[ Her gaze falls entirely to the floor then. Fingers dig into the black and gray colored coat, picking at threads that have gone loose in battle. How many people has she been able to save? Or course, one healer cannot save them all, regardless of her strength in white magic. The knowledge and fact is hardly a comfort as she has seen so many of Eorzea fall, Haurchefaunt, and now so many people on the First. Lives saved and souls saved to be reborn in the aetheric sea, and yet, she feels as if she is no hero at all. In fact, she rather feels as if she merely is a cutout of their beloved Warrior of Light. While inside is not hollow, she cannot help but wonder how much more of Lantaa Pahsh will be stripped away for the heroic Warrior of Light.
Alkaid's shoulders curl upwards and her hands ball into tight fists. She can feel the short nails push against the skin, but is not enough go break or damage it. The near crippling loneliness she felt on the First returns like a tidal wave, and she the rock that it breaks against. The tears well under her closed eyes and she does not let them fall. Aymeric surely must be tired of seeing her cry now. ]
How much of me must be lost... h-how much more of myself am I expected to sacrifice for it all? [ Her voice breaks despite her best attempts. A sad sound forces it's way from her throat. Gods, no. Please. She does not need to cry in front of him again. ] I...
[ I never wanted to be a hero. I never wanted this life.
Her hands begin to shake once more, yet she reaches out for him. They share the same space, but he feels so far away. She only wants to go home. Home is him, with him, and the city he loves so very much.
Why will the First not relenquish it's hold on her? Why can she not put it all behind her as she had with so many other things? She had seen death before, and malformed beings. So, why...
Alkaid takes the half step needed to be in front of him. Then, unceremoniously, she crumbles to her knees. Her forehead rests against his knees as she refuses to let the sob that builds in her out. ]
I missed you... so much... [ Surely the parting only hurt her this deeply. Aymeric is stronger than her and he always has been. Especially now, in this moment. He is her foundation, and yet she is falling to pieces in front of him. ] My knight who can always find me... a-and care for me... and I couldn't even write a letter to you as I had before. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...
[ She inhales, trying her damnedest not to cry. ] I don't want to be a Warrior of Darkness, or of Light. I don't want to be a Scion... I only want to be your wife... at your side. T-they keep taking me away: all of them. Until I'm ... I'm...
[ Only a hero; their mend to fix the world. Their soldier. Their weapon. ]
You deserve so much more than me... whatever of me they haven't taken away...
no subject
[ Her gaze falls entirely to the floor then. Fingers dig into the black and gray colored coat, picking at threads that have gone loose in battle. How many people has she been able to save? Or course, one healer cannot save them all, regardless of her strength in white magic. The knowledge and fact is hardly a comfort as she has seen so many of Eorzea fall, Haurchefaunt, and now so many people on the First. Lives saved and souls saved to be reborn in the aetheric sea, and yet, she feels as if she is no hero at all. In fact, she rather feels as if she merely is a cutout of their beloved Warrior of Light. While inside is not hollow, she cannot help but wonder how much more of Lantaa Pahsh will be stripped away for the heroic Warrior of Light.
Alkaid's shoulders curl upwards and her hands ball into tight fists. She can feel the short nails push against the skin, but is not enough go break or damage it. The near crippling loneliness she felt on the First returns like a tidal wave, and she the rock that it breaks against. The tears well under her closed eyes and she does not let them fall. Aymeric surely must be tired of seeing her cry now. ]
How much of me must be lost... h-how much more of myself am I expected to sacrifice for it all? [ Her voice breaks despite her best attempts. A sad sound forces it's way from her throat. Gods, no. Please. She does not need to cry in front of him again. ] I...
[ I never wanted to be a hero. I never wanted this life.
Her hands begin to shake once more, yet she reaches out for him. They share the same space, but he feels so far away. She only wants to go home. Home is him, with him, and the city he loves so very much.
Why will the First not relenquish it's hold on her? Why can she not put it all behind her as she had with so many other things? She had seen death before, and malformed beings. So, why...
Alkaid takes the half step needed to be in front of him. Then, unceremoniously, she crumbles to her knees. Her forehead rests against his knees as she refuses to let the sob that builds in her out. ]
I missed you... so much... [ Surely the parting only hurt her this deeply. Aymeric is stronger than her and he always has been. Especially now, in this moment. He is her foundation, and yet she is falling to pieces in front of him. ] My knight who can always find me... a-and care for me... and I couldn't even write a letter to you as I had before. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...
[ She inhales, trying her damnedest not to cry. ] I don't want to be a Warrior of Darkness, or of Light. I don't want to be a Scion... I only want to be your wife... at your side. T-they keep taking me away: all of them. Until I'm ... I'm...
[ Only a hero; their mend to fix the world. Their soldier. Their weapon. ]
You deserve so much more than me... whatever of me they haven't taken away...