[ Memories of their shared lives hardly ever stay buried. While perhaps not as in touch with the memories as she had once been? Phya is aware of certain details regardless. She can recall ways to heal him as Aymeric de Borel, not just the man she has loved over countless lives. She believes she can even recall where items are in the home if things have not changed too much in their time apart.
There is one thing that remains slightly illusive to her no matter how hard she tries to grasp onto the memories that are on the edge of her mind. Something of Aymeric that is important to his person. Estinien had made mention of a "condition" and that she ought to know how to treat it. Yet, for the life of her, Phya cannot think of what it might be.
He calls her by name and her eyes raise to his.
A name that had been one she used in her previous life. Not her true name, but a name that she still recognizes as her own even now. She is painfully aware then in that moment she must be nothing like the woman in his memories. Her appearance does not match and perhaps other details of her personality have been changed as well. Things that remain unique to her as Phya and in the world of Corethas after the Calamity. ]
I'm here.
[ She continues to hold his hand until the grip loosens. Her own small squeeze is given before she stands. His hand is gently placed on the bed before she quickly moves to the bathroom. Part of her still reels at the fact she can open doors and know where it will lead to. Has anything changed within the decades they have been apart? Has he wanted to change anything?
Surely, the household staff is different. Age catches up to all in the end.
She returns with a small towel damp with warm water. Within moments she is once more at his side, draping the warm cloth over his forehead. Then, she tucks her large robe and skirt beneath her and sits once more at the floor beside the bed. Her hands gently rest over his single. Phya is aware she can be quite forward and stern with her decisions. She had to become that way in regards to her own health. So many different healers and doctors had different opinions and ideas on how to cure her ailments. Eventually she had to pick her own path. ]
Once you've rested? I shall see to changing the bandages again. They will... most certainly need to be changed frequently. With the infection taken care of you can start to heal properly from the dragon's bite. [ A pause. ] Hopefully you have no engagements for the next few days. If you are called upon? Then, something will have to be done. Perhaps they can come here for you as you recover.
[ Phya pauses once more. Her gaze settles on their hands as her ears twitch slightly. ] Your Temple Knights would see something of a miracle to see you returned by Starlight Celebration. Even I heard of their fondness for the Lord Commander where I lived and traveling here. No matter how far they are from Ishgard, they speak highly of their Lord Commander. Now knowing that it is you? I can see why. You have always inspired the best in others.
[ A gentle smile more at herself then. ] Which is to say I will need to do my utmost to get you on your feet to return to duty. It was always important to you, no matter which life I found you in.
[ If Phya were to look around the manor, she would see that very little has changed at all. Aymeric had no desire to alter the appearance of the family home, and many, if not all of the possessions that belonged to them are still where they'd been placed so long ago now. Of course, there's a layer of dust on said belongings, in spite of the efforts of the household staff who remained or who joined later on. They do their best, of course, but sometimes some battles are not meant to be won.
As for that one thing that remains elusive and escapes Phya's grasp, perhaps that is for the best, at least for now. It is a topic that Aymeric does not like to speak on nor dwell on, and he has yet to even consider how to broach the topic with her.
He remains still, lying on the bed where he was placed, even as Phya bustles about obtaining a towel that has been dipped in water or perhaps placed in a basin beforehand. She places it on his forehead, and in response, his eyes briefly open, revealing their icy blue color, before they close once more.
She begins speaking, explaining her intentions and her plans, and even as she speaks of engagements that will most likely have to be postponed, he remains motionless but still listening to every word. He can hear her without issue; his power of speech is limited at present, as is his ability to keep his eyes open. But his ears function just fine.
And because of that, when she mentions the Temple Knights by name, going on to talk about the Starlight Celebration, and the opinion that others hold for him as Lord Commander, his posture stiffens immediately. It is hardly a strong gesture, but there is a tension in his frame that was not there mere seconds ago.
A look of consternation settles on Aymeric's face, betraying the doubt he feels that he can inspire anyone as he is now. Perhaps the days of him leading soldiers and being an inspiration are long gone, just as the man he was is also long gone now.
His eyes slit open once more, and they lock onto what he can see of Phya's face. It takes a significant amount of breath to form words, but he does his best. ]
What duty I once had- it has surely passed from me and to others in my absence. [ Perhaps that is for the best. ]
[ Her eyes catch his icy blue and her heart stops for a brief moment. Then, it pounds. A blush comes to her cheeks. Despite the state that he is in currently? She cannot help but find him so incredibly attractive. Not just because of his looks but his person as well. Perhaps saying her soul stirs at seeing him is hyperbolic. Yet, she feels the incredible sense of longing and desire to reach out and touch him. Not merely hold his hand, but to brush her fingers through his hair. Hold his face in her hands.
Things she has yet to earn in this lifetime... or earn at all to do.
The tension becomes obvious in his frame.
She gently squeezes his hand. ]
It has not. [ Phya shakes her head. ] They adore you. Your leadership. They trust you... and trust is not easy to come by in the world now, Ser.
[ Her tiny hands once again curl around his. ] You should not give up on them. Or yourself. For many? The Lord Commander is someone who makes sense in this world that no longer what it once was. The Calamity was decades ago, and yet, I still spoke with people who had memories of a time when Corethas was green. Ishgard standing and her Temple Knights are things people look to for stability and hope.
You may not feel it due to your current condition, but that does not change the truth. You have already proven yourself to the others around you. [ A shy look downwards is given. ] I heard many Knights speak highly of you over the years.
[ Then, a small sigh comes from her. She stands, squeezing his hand once more. ]
You need to rest. Sleep. I'll wake you when your bandages need changing. It may be easier for you to speak then.
[ If he was strong enough to get up from this bed, he would move to stand next to her and take hold of her hands properly. He would look at her, taking in her appearance and memorizing it so that he would not ever forget it. And there would be words too... so many words: apologies, stories he wished he could tell her but was unable to, but most of all... apologies. Heartfelt ones. Ones that are carved into his entire being now.
It seems to him that he owes a great many people many apologies, but he has to start with Alkaid... no, with Phya. With... What was the name she trusted him with? It was her family name, or clan name, not the name she had adopted. The tension in his frame does not even begin to disperse, not even when Phya takes him to task for what he has said.
He can't summon up the strength to speak, but he manages to shake his head from side to side. No, it can't be what she says. I know what the people must be thinking. I know what thoughts have run through the minds of the Knights. They may have trusted me once, but how could they do that now?
I am not giving up on them, as I am confident they will rise above this. Perhaps by now, a new Lord Commander has been appointed. I suppose she is correct in saying I have given up on myself.
He feels himself recoiling from her words, wanting nothing else but to soundly reject them. But of course, in his present state, he does not have the strength, and what words he has managed to speak, combined with the twisting thoughts of his mind, has brought him closer to exhaustion once more.
She tells him of his need to rest, and while he would protest, he finds that he cannot. His eyelids are heavy, and he feels the need to sleep beginning to pull him down. But there's something else that overrides that exhaustion and causes him to push it aside for just a few moments longer. Suddenly, there is a strange fear that's gripping him, and while he feels he has no right to ask her for assurance... He draws a shaky breath and manages to form a few more words. ]
Will you still be here when I awaken? [ Will I awaken to find this was only a dream? ]
Yes, of course. You've asked me to stay. [ Phya gives an affirmative nod even if he cannot see the notion. ] Now, please. Rest.
[ She continues to hold his hand until he finally does manage to drift into slumber. Her hands let go of his before quickly moving to the door. There, she is greeted once more by the steward and head maid. She quickly explains the situation. Their surprise and slight confusion can be felt rather than seen. Phya merely looks down. She has no proper way to explain a potential ancient bond between her and their lord. An arrangement is regardless struck on what is needed to keep Aymeric on the mend.
Then, she is left to her own.
Phya walks through the master suite. Certain items--paintings, decorations--all stand out to her. A soft bell or chime in her mind rings in familiarity even if she cannot pull the full memories to mind. Her ears tilt down and she twists her fingers together. How is she ever to stand against the memory of... herself?
More than once she looks at herself in the mirror in the room. How dainty she is, how small, how... nearly wild she must look compared to a neat and kept woman of the court. A type of woman he surely deserves and should be with given his station. Not only a knight, a Lord of Ishgard, but the Lord Commander. No wonder remains her mind then as to why her knight never appeared. He had far too many pressing matters and things in a life to command. They out rank her reborn into such a sickly body. Even if now is one of her better spells.
He shifts on the bed at one point and Phya races over. He turns away in his sleep and that is when she catches something that she should have remembered on her own. A fang is visible as he groans and she feels her body freeze. A cold spell takes her. Of course there are always rumors of what voidsent roam in the night--especially the kind she finds herself in realization of seeing before her.
Then, the guilt truly settles in her.
Not only had she died and left her beloved behind... she left him in a miserable existence. Not being a lord or a knight.
As a vampire.
Her hands lower, she looks at the ground. Ears press to her head and her tail stills. Everything seems to make sense in her mind then. How an Elezen can look so young after so long. Why guilt and loneliness consumed her. Why he would refuse so many healers... and why Estinien had believed her to be the only one to understand his "condition" as he called it.
Phya closes her eyes. Hands curl into her robes for a moment before she turns and heads to the door to the bedroom. Potions and alchemy will only aid his recovery to a point. She will need to do something else, even as she is certain any healer she had ever met would be horrified. She opens the door and calls for the head maid, asking for a cup to be brought. Confusion lingers on the staff once more but a cup is brought regardless. Phya thanks her before setting to the other side of the room.
The cup is placed on the mantle. A knife is pulled from her robes. The silver blade pierces her arm and blood drips into the cup. Something tells her that he will refuse it no matter how much she insists. Still, she must at least try.
Her fingers graze the wound and seal the injury. No trace of it is left. She cleans the knife with a towel then returns once more to the bed. The cup is placed on the bedside table and her hands raise to his shoulder. Then, a hand to Aymeric's face. She guides him back to her. ]
Ser, [ she still feels he has yet to give her permission to even call his name, ] I need to change your bandages... and you need to eat.
[ He falls asleep, mainly due to the injured state he finds himself in and his need for rest, but it is not done entirely willingly. Of course rest is something he requires at the moment, but it is not something he draws any particular pleasure from. He finds he does not dream while he sleeps, not that that makes a particular difference either. Sleep is something purely functional and he would insist he does not require much of it.
His injuries would say otherwise, however, and he ends up in a deep sleep that, if nothing else, will help with his recovery from the dragon bite. Still, even though he doesn't dream, some form of thoughts seem to spin themselves around in his mind... thoughts of Alkaid, thoughts of Phya as she is now. Thoughts of longing and feeling a need to apologize for what he sees as his own failure to protect her.
She might notice if she is looking that his mouth seems to move even as he sleeps, forming wordless sentences of apology. Then, he shifts on the bed, a sudden bout of agitation taking hold of him, and his mouth falls open slightly, revealing a visible fang. If he had been in control of himself, he would not have let her catch sight of it, but in his sleeping state, the motion happened on its own.
Still unaware of what has happened, he continues to sleep until he feels a hand on his shoulder, and then on his face, and he hears the sound of someone speaking quietly but with direction.
He stirs on the bed once more, and again, his eyes slit open just enough to let him see her. Alkaid... except she is different now. What does she call herself now? The thought enters his still sleeping mind, trying to take root there.
He hears her say something about bandages, which he understands, but then... she says he needs to eat, and instinctively, he recoils, wincing as the sudden motion pulls at his wound.
Whether she meant it that way or not, his reaction is clear: he does not respond well to the notion of eating. Of course, he remains unaware that she caught a glimpse of his fangs as he slept, but his opinion on the matter of feeding remains the same. ]
[ The wince causes her ears to stand on end. Not from the motion itself but how it most certainly pulls at his wound. Both hands move to his shoulders in an attempt to keep him still. Their height and weight difference makes the attempt laughable, but, she must try regardless.
Somehow, his reaction to eating is hardly surprising. ]
Ser, please don't move as such. Your wound is still healing. [ She glances down at it, then looks back to his face. ] I... I know I am far from the position to ask anything of you, but, you need to eat. It is the only way you will truly recover. Your body is far too weak.
[ A small smile shows on her face. ] Trust me, Ser. I won't have you do something so very untasteful.
[ Phya first turns her attention back to his bandages. She begins to change them. Her nose scrunches in a familiar way at the smell, however, the signs are there that the healing process has truly begun. Thus, she sets about to continue applying the potions and new bandages.
Now, for the next part, she gives an unconscious inhale of breath. ]
It will hurt, Ser, but let me help you sit up as much as possible. [ Her arms move to help support him despite he is nearly a foot and more taller than her. ] You may lean on me as much as you need.
[ Phya aids Aymeric to sit as much as he finds himself able. Her hand then reaches out to grab the cup that still sits on the bedside. She holds it up to him in order for him to smell and at least attempt to hold the glass with her own hand. That way he may set the pace of his own feeding.
It would be a lie to say she was not nervous. Not because of his nnature, but, because her blood will certainly expose her. He would be able to tell how sickly of a woman she has been reborn into in this life. He may reject her because her blood does not taste the same as it once had. He will truly know how far she is from being Alkaid--K'lantaa. Yet, she does not realize how much of her remains the same that he should surely notice as well. ]
[ He regrets the sudden movement, but he could not stop the immediate reaction to the idea of needing to eat. He resolved that he would not attack others in order to feed from them, but that hardly addressed how he was supposed to receive the nourishment he needed.
There seemed to be no other way to accomplish it other than to go after the rats that lingered in the woods. It was still distasteful, and he had to be careful so as to not deplete the entire population of rats, but it was enough to get him by.
Once he sustained the injury, however, he was no longer able to venture out to find the rats he needed, and the lack of food contributed to his weakness. One eye slits open to look at her, and then the other slowly opens as well. He finds his voice after a few more seconds, although it sounds rough to his ears. ]
Rats. Rats in the woods. [ He manages a small shake of his head; he won't ask her to go hunt rats for him. Maybe later when he's stronger, he'll go in search of one or two.
Then he quiets as she sets to work on changing the bandages and cleaning the wound. The smell reaches his nose too, and he'd recoil from it if moving wasn't an issue. But then he feels her arms around him, and he glances at her, wondering what she intends to do now.
He receives his answer once she attempts to help him sit up, and while he doesn't resist, he can't quite hide the look of discomfort as he tries to position himself into a sitting position with her help.
Once he comes to a stop, he takes a few moments to try and compose himself and wait for the ache from the wound to subside as well. While he's doing that, he sees Phya moving something towards him, and once he realizes what the cup she's holding contains, his attention focuses on it almost immediately.
Blood.
It's distasteful to him, what he has to do to survive. He would rather not drink from rats, but to drink from a human or other individual who has hopes and dreams and aspirations is unthinkable.
But the difference here is one that even he can't ignore; this isn't just a random sampling of blood. This blood belongs to Phya, someone he has known for a very long time now. He can feel it even if her appearance has changed. It isn't only the appearance that matters, after all. ]
Y-yes. [ Her shoulders curl. ] You can't very well do it yourself.
[ "Gathered" is certainly a way of phrasing it. A way she wouldn't necessarily phrase it herself. Suddenly, she is keenly aware that he would disagree with how she went about preparing the cup. He detests blood of people, and barely manages to live off the blood of animals. Hadn't he made the exception for her before?
Would he keep making the exception?
She shifts the cup in her hand to hold it properly for him. ]
You need to drink.
[ The ability to compelling has gone away with her previous life. Now, it is only a request. A plea. She may not be his healer after this spell, so she must make due with what time she has been given.
Phya gently shifts him to help his head tilts back. The hesitation and worry of how he will react to the taste of her blood. What he might learn of her from it. Regardless, he must eat. ]
[ He does not immediately respond, allowing silence to fall between them once more. Of course, she is right. He is in no condition to look for his own food, not even when said food consists of rats. Truthfully, he has been neglecting himself, and the injury he sustained has not helped with that one bit.
He can hardly pretend that the scent of the blood in the cup is not stirring something up inside him, something he would rather not feel nor have awakened. But it is a part of him now, and he can't very well turn it off. ]
Do I? Should I, knowing that... that you had to spill your own blood to prepare this? I-
[ He hears her plea and understands it, and he wants to drink without hesitating. Perhaps he will drink in the end, but he can't allow himself to just grab it and ingest it like some mindless animal. ]
I imagine whatever hurt you had to cause yourself, you have since healed. [ Since he is at least somewhat certain that Phya is someone he knows, and knows very well indeed, even if her appearance is different. ]
I suppose that this time... [ The words trail off as if he forgot what else he was going to say. And by then, she is helping move him again, preparing him to drink from the cup.
It isn't what he wants to do, but he needs to eat, and so when she helps assist with tilting his head back, the blood in the cup slides slowly down his throat. His eyes flash red briefly as he drinks, but even as he fills his need, he does not drink greedily or deeply. In fact, he would rather not be doing this at all, not where she can see him.
Feeding is something he does in private, where no eyes can observe him. Now, he has no such luxury of hiding, and that's enough to make him feel as though his throat is closing up even as he feeds for the first time in who knows how long. ]
Yes... I have. [ Phya nods to confirm his assumption. ] I'm fine.
[ As fine as one can be with her record of poor health. No injury or scar remains of the deed. It would normally please her as a sense of skill in her craft, and yet, seeing his reaction to the whole state of affairs simply causes her ears to tilt and then press to her head. Her tail stills from its gentle sway.
Her eyes turn away as he drinks. Not from disgust of him or his condition. Far from embarrassment as well. She can simply sense he would prefer to not drink her blood--regardless of the circumstance. The notion is only fair. Not only has she already abandoned him once, but surely the quality is also far from enjoyable. If she were healthier would he be more willing? Most likely not. It is clear he hates his existence.
Once he has finally finished the cup, she turns and places it on the table beside the bed once more. One arm still aids him in sitting, while the other hesitates before simply allowing it to hang at her side. She has hardly earned the right to call him by his name, let alone wrap her arms around him and pull him close. Not only that, Phya remains mostly a stranger to him.
She glances to his face and looks away once she feels he would rather her not look at him. ]
You are fine to rest more now. Between the potions and feeding... your recovery should take less time.
Are you certain? [ He is hardly in a position to worry or fret, but he can't seem to stop himself from looking at her with what would have been a pointed, focused gaze, if not for his still-recovering state. ]
What experiences you have had... what challenges you faced... I can only guess at what those might be, and that does not sit right with me. [ He can tell that she is not of the strongest constitution, and that troubles him suddenly and quite strongly. ]
I might be who I am now, but I still know my way around a kitchen. When I am fully recovered... [ A look of resolve slides into his eyes then. ] The kitchens have gone unused for too long. Perhaps it is time to rectify that.
[ But he finds himself slightly winded from speaking so much, even after finally drinking from the cup and having his fill. He feels her arm around him that's aiding him in sitting up, but he has noticed the way the other simply moves to hang at her side. That won't do. ]
If it does take less time, it is because of your assistance. And so...
[ Slowly and almost hesitantly, as if wondering if she will reject his advances, he reaches for her and carefully pulls her in closer. It is hardly a fast movement nor a rought one, as he wants to give her the chance to pull away and out of his reach. But somehow, he has guessed that she wishes she could be closer, or that she could hold him, but something is keeping her from doing so.
Perhaps she will express dislike for the way he moved her, but if she acts in such a way that indicates displeasure, he knows he will not argue, as he can imagine he's hardly desirable now because of his condition. ]
I am when it comes to this. [ A pause is given. ] My--it's not uncommon for those who grew up in the settlements as mine. We have what we can in order to survive in the eternal winter that Corethas has become.
[ In truth, she will not say it, but she is lucky to be alive after all of her health complications. Her sister had her own as well--especially as twins. She merely had more due to being the smaller of the two to begin with. Her condition is hardly different from other children. Some never saw the days beyond their childhood. Things have progressed since the initial years following the Calamity, but, it is still hard for any settlement to truly flourish.
Especially when the gates of Ishgard and the Holy See remain shut. ]
Y-you hardly need to repay me, Ser. This my talent as well as my profession. [ Phya glances down and her voice drops to hushed tones: ] Although, you most certainly already knew that.
I could do more to aid. This is simply healing the grievous wound and infection with alchemy and food. Healing, I... I do not have permission and I would not assume I would be allowed. Regardless of the Azure Dragoon's opinion. I would need your allowance. If you would even want me to use aether.
[ Her ears gently twitch at his sudden motion. Before she can even scold him for moving in such a manner, he has pulled her to him. Her forehead comes to his chest and she stills--not freezes. A beat passes before her trembling arms reach up to circle around him. Her face presses into his chest and a shaking exhale leaves her. Her tail relaxes. She simply sits besides the bed.
How many years have I dreamed about this...?
While not exactly as her dreams. He's unable to fully wrap his arms around her and hold her close. No dramatic claims of missing her for years and that they have been reunited. Perhaps those things are unneeded as they seemingly understand that without speaking the words. ]
The settlements. [ Aymeric says the word slowly, turning it over in his mind a few times; of course he is aware that not all have the luxury of homes, grand or otherwise, to live in. If he could, he would welcome all into Ishgard proper, seeing that each one of them has a place to live in. But then, he supposes, that such a thing is how the Brume came to be.
He is certain that those who are less fortunate view him and others as overlords who care little for the state of the poor, but he knows that is not the case for him. If it were up to him, he would use his own personal funds to see the Brume turned into a proper place to live, expanding upon it as necessary. After all, there are a great many buildings within Ishgard that could be repurposed, if only their owners would agree to such a thing. ]
It is not merely speaking pretty words when I say that I would welcome all who live in the settlements into Ishgard, if the decision rested wholly with me.
I do need to repay you, however. [ And while he is in no condition to really think up how he might repay her, much less act on it, his mind is already at work thinking about how to do that very thing.
But then she continues speaking, and now that Aymeric has some of his wits about him, he can actually ask the question on his mind: ]
Why do you say you do not have permission? [ Perhaps he needs to state it, but he realizes that she does not need permission, as she already has it. She could do whatever she wanted to him, and he would not protest. ]
Perhaps I did not have the chance nor the opportunity to say as much, but you have no need to ask. As you are the healer here, the decisionmaking ought to be left to you.
[ He finds himself content to simply hold her and feel her, thinking of nothing but how they have managed to find each other again when he thought such a thing was impossible. ]
What would I have you do? [ He shifts so that he can get a little closer to her. ]
[ The settlements have built themselves into small towns, outposts, anything they could manage. Her own was something more of a town one would pass through on the way to Ishgard. That was how Ardbert had found she and her sister so easily. It was how she had received what medical care she had as well as training. While not the size of Mor Dhona and farther into Corethas? Her settlement had seen a fair bit of hustle.
Especially as the Lord Commander had asked the Warrior of Light to help with the Heretics known as Saint Shiva.
A small smile tugs to her face. Those would be sentiments her knight would have in any life. A warrior made one to protect his people no matter who they might be. He may not see it as a sentiment to why he was chosen as Lord Commander, but, she can see it as clear as day. ]
Many would rather aid be sent to them instead of feeling as if they had been cut off from their citystate.
[ Phya gently presses into his hold, doing her best not to aggravate his wound. Her face hides in his chest to listen to his breathing and heartbeat. She had dreamed of this, imagine it even, holding the stuffed fox to her as she would sleep. Especially on days where illness took her harshly. A small gift, one she hardly can keep or deserves, as she is so certain he will dismiss her once his mind clears. ] I will stay as long as you'd have me.
[ Her shoulders curl inwards then. A silence fills the room. Shame and guilt rise to the surface once more. How could she ever earn the permission once again? After she hurt him so? He has been left in this miserable state for nearly a hundred years because of her... ]
I left you here. Alone. [ Her voice is soft and older tones leak into her words. Phrasing and sentiments from her ancient soul in ancient days. ] I hurt you deeper than any could by dying... how could... I barely have the right to say your name, let alone be your healer as I was before...
[ It's then that Aymeric remembers that reports still arrive for him, delivered to the house from the headquarters of the Temple Knights. By rights, he should be in said headquarters himself, receiving the reports directly, but circumstances have not lended themselves well to that.
He is confident that his second in command has things well in hand; perhaps by now, she has taken the position of Lord Commander in his stead. He would not begrudge her that, nor see it as usurping his position. ]
Perhaps you can tell me more about these settlements, and I will see about ensuring that aid is sent to them as you suggested. We- I have been rather amiss in keeping apprised of certain affairs. The settlements are just one of those affairs.
[ He knows that he has work to do, and a great deal of it, but he is certain she'll insist he must wait a little while longer before resuming his duties.
For now, he contents himself with holding her, paying little or no heed to his wound, even if she does. He wants to hold her, wants to comfort her... wants to tell her that he loves her just as much now as he did before. And he knows without a doubt that that is the truth. ]
Forever? Until- [ Until they part again and are weaved back into the story with new lives but the same souls. ]
What of how I hurt you? [ His voice deepens as the pain and regret and guilt that he tried but failed to bury takes hold of him once more. Oh, yes, he tried to bury it, but it refused to let him go. It's weighed on him these past many years, and he has been unable to forget it. ] You would have survived if I had known- if I had been there to defend you.
[ His gaze lowers and his shoulders fall. ] When I think of what you must have experienced... [ She might notice his hands beginning to shake as his mind brings to life what he imagines her final moments were like. ]
I imagined that if you returned, you would only despise me.
I will... my sister could be of help too. Ardbert as well. He has seen more of the world and Corethas than I have. I wasn't able to make leave of our settlement until recently. [ Her eyes fall shut. ] I am certain you could tell why... just as you can tell my abilities.
[ Her blood must give all of that away. Signs of how she is far from strong and a sickly woman. Perhaps not the intricate details, but enough to show that she is not as he knew her before. ]
Forever. [ Phya repeats the phrase. ] Until you no longer wish to be bound.
[ As surely even his ancient soul must tire of how they part. How she must disappoint him. Hurt him. ]
You didn't hurt me. I may not have survived even if you were there. [ She can't be certain what it is, but she has the deep feeling that even Aymeric could not have saved her. Something dark rumbles in her memories but she can hardly pull it to mind. ] You were performing your duties. As you always do in any life. That has always come first and... I have known and accepted it. It wasn't your fault.
[ If she had been quicker, faster, able to defend herself. Would she have lived? ]
I could never hate or despise you. It was my fault. I wasn't strong enough or fast enough. You did nothing wrong. I was the one that left you.
[ A grim thought occurs to him then, and with it, Aymeric's expression darkens slightly. ]
Perhaps... perhaps I should not ask it of you. Of any of you. Your time is better spent elsewhere, and that applies to the Warrior of Light and your sister both. I shall have to send representatives in my stead to take account of the state of the settlements and report back to me, so that I may then address what needs the people may have.
And if I cannot utilize what is available to me, then I will call upon others who may be able to lend their aid.
[ His gaze focuses back on hers for a moment. ] Your abilities? [ He pauses briefly so that he might focus on the lingering taste from the drink she gave him. ] There is a difference, but it is still you. You are still you. And, I am confident that it is possible to see you regain strength.
Why would I no longer wish to be bound? [ His own tone shifts then to something older... more ancient. ]
Do you wish to be free of this bond? [ He asks in earnest, wondering if the bond chafes her now after so many years. ]
What sort of partner... protector... What sort of person am I if I was not able to save you? My duties should not have come before my duty, my responsibility to you.
[ His gaze lowers, as does his posture, and he seems to sink in on himself just a fraction as the guilt weighs on him once more.
Of course he hears her words, but he finds it difficult to truly digest them, much less believe them. ]
Ardbert has come to help... and my sister and I followed for our own reasons. Still, I want to help. Even if I lack the strength to heal as I could before? I know alchemy. I can still be helpful. If you want me to tell you about the settlements--even putting them on a map for you? I will.
[ Phya's tail twitches slightly. ] How could I even taste the same as before? Illness and weakness aside... everything about me should be different. How is there enough that is the same?
[ His tone shifts. Her ears stand on end. Breath catches in her throat. Eyes widen. Her heart pounds loudly in her chest and ears. Surely, he can tell how her heart beats faster and louder now. Aymeric and her ancient love are the same being--the same person. Yet, hearing the age in his voice has always made her weak at the knees. A stoic wall that lifts to show the love they've shared despite the many rebirths and time that has passed. ]
No! [ Her answer is immediate. Tears come to her eyes. That longing feels as if it will consume her. But, she hasn't been forgiven. She hasn't yet been told she may call him by his ancient or current name. Let alone the affectionate names. ] No, I don't. But, how could you stand to be with me after all the hurt I've caused you?
[ She stands then. Arms move from around him to encompassing his shoulders. Hands guide him to rest her head against her bosom. One hand rests on the back of his head. Hopefully he will not be angry. ]
Your duties have always come first. I know it and accept it in any life. Your people, no matter who they are, mean the world to you. How could I ask you place me ahead of them?
[ Even if it had led to their parting in more than one life.]
If that is the case, and all of you are offering your assistance, of course I will not turn it down. To have the aid of one such as Ardbert, and that of yourself and your sister? I am not foolish enough to think that such aid is anything but invaluable.
And... I think you have more strength than you realize. Of course, for now, a map of the settlements is more than enough.
[ Aymeric tilts his head to one side as if considering her and her words carefully. ] Some things do not change. Appearances may change; the state of one's health may very clearly change. [ He gestures to himself as if to underline his point. ]
You are still you, and I would know you anywhere.
[ His eyebrows lift in surprise at the sudden speed and force of her answer. It surprises him, but it pulls him away from his thoughts that are trying to take a darker turn. ]
How can I stand to be with you? There is no one else that I would rather be with, even after everything that we have gone through.
[ He feels her arms move to circle his shoulders, and then he feels her hands on either side of his head, guiding him until he's resting against her. He doesn't pull away or resist her movements, simply letting her guide him where she will. He's far from angry; instead, he just wants to stay like this, to rest against her and be with her. ]
I may always have responsibilities, duties, tasks that must be fulfilled... But by that same token, I will always have a responsibility and a duty to you that must be seen to as well, if not above everything else, when the situation calls for it. When it does not... it is about finding that balance, but I must say that you will always be slightly above it all, in my mind.
I have enough to do my duty. There's not much beyond that. [ Her tail stills once more and ears press to her head again. ] Once you're back on your feet? I will reach out to my sister and Ardbert. House Foretemps has taken us in while we're here in Ishgard. I'm... not certain what Ardbert will plan to do.
[ Her gaze softens at his answer. Her heart skips a beat. He truly is her ancient lover; her knight. Not that any doubt had been in her mind about it at all. Still, it proves that he can be who he is despite the illness from his injury and the darker turn of his thoughts and personality. All stay of her own doing in her mind despite what he says.
Her fingers gently brush along the strands of his hair. It's oily, and long. Dirty and in need of cleaning. That will be once his wound has closed and he can bathe properly. If he will wish her aid in that act remains to be seen. ]
It rarely allows for a balance of such things: life. [ Phya's eyes close and she can recall instances from other lives. Things that torn them apart. Moments in which they were so close to being together and were still unable to have the realization of the life they longed for in ancient days. ] First... we must see to your health now. I can heal your wound through aether if you'd like. You will need to eat once more after you've rested...
I find that difficult to believe. In fact, I rather think that I might be bold enough to beg to differ. [ For reasons he is still beginning to understand, he feels a certain confidence in Phya, perhaps because he knows her and knows that she contains a great strength inside her, regardless of her current condition. ]
Again, whatever assistance you offer is appreciated and it is more than enough.
[ When she brushes against the strands of his hair, he feels slightly embarrassed, as he knows he has not taken care of himself one bit. His hair is unwashed, as is the rest of him, and he is quite certainly not a desirable sight to behold at the moment. Still, he finds he does not wish to pull away, even though he knows it must not be pleasant, touching his uncared for hair.
Instead, his eyes slide closed for a moment as exhaustion sweeps over him. He still feels weak and tired and the wound still gives him discomfort. He was able to conjure up enough strength to speak with her and exchange words, but it seems as though his condition has caught up to him once more.
He wishes only to rest against her, perhaps to even rest his head against her shoulder, granting her permission to heal him with whatever means she feels are necessary. Perhaps he is in worse shape than even he realized, as now all he wishes to do is simply drift off to sleep. Perhaps to not wake again? No, I will not do that, not now that I have found her. I must live. ]
I- I have spent too long in this diminished state. There are things that need my attention, and more importantly, you are here now, and I must... I wish to be able to stand on my own so that I might welcome you properly.
[ He pushes aside the feelings of weakness that are trying to pull him down so that he can respond appropriately. ]
Will it tax you overly if you use aether to do your work?
[ She offers a smile he can't truly see pressed against her chest. No, she rather doubts her strength is not in physicality. Healing, alchemy, and perhaps even a stubbornness are her strength.
Regardless of his appearance or condition, Phya continues to brush through his hair. The motion is soothing for both of them. A part of her longs to simply be held and shielded--a childish dream that she does not deserve to see happen yet. Maybe once he has forgiven her and given permission she will have that without guilt plaguing her. ]
No. I can rest while you sleep. [ A nod to reaffirm her statements. She will be fine. ] Lay down, Ser. I'll help and then I will get to work.
[ Well, if her strength is not in her physical attributes, perhaps even then, all is not lost. Of course, Aymeric loves her as she is and how she is, and so if she is resigned to her state of being, then the best thing he can do is simply continue to love her as he has done for so long now.
As she continues brushing her hands through his hair, he feels his eyelids growing heavier as the need for sleep continues to pull on him. How long has it been since he really slept well? His wounds might continue to trouble him, but for the first time in a very long time, he feels almost peaceful. Not that he believes someone like him deserves peace. ]
All right. [ He imagines she would not simply tell him something to appease him, and so he decides to simply take her at her word. Perhaps in doing so, she will also know that he trusts her and believes her.
It takes some movements once more to position himself properly, and he frowns and winces as the wound protests, but he manages to return to a prostrate position after a short while.
He has to stop and catch his breath because of the exertion of moving, but he still manages to say in between breaths: ]
I spent many hours looking for you, hoping that one day, I might see your face passing by, either as a lone traveler or with a group. I would have ventured out searching for you if I had been able.
[ Phya aids him in moving how she can. It still takes a small amount of time as well as care given their size difference and his wound. She guides him to rest on his good side so that she might pull his shirt up and begin the process of healing him. A sharp inhale is given before her ice-blue eyes move back to his face. ]
I waited. [ A small beat is allowed to pass before she looks down at his side once more. ] I was unable to leave when I was younger. I was either ill too often or weak due to the illness. Especially as Corethas is bathed in eternal winter. The Temple Knights would often come through our settlement on patrol or to find shelter when blizzards would come through. I thought... that one day I might see you. It had been to the point that I knew when new recruits had joined the ranks and when others had left for other positions.
[ Her head tilts slightly. ] Knowing that you had become the Lord Commander, however, it makes sense as to why I never saw you. You wouldn't have come to a decent sized settlement without reason. I should have tried to leave sooner.
[ She sighs and raises her hands to hover slightly above his wound. ] May I begin?
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synthneon2024-11-25 02:03 am
no subject
There is one thing that remains slightly illusive to her no matter how hard she tries to grasp onto the memories that are on the edge of her mind. Something of Aymeric that is important to his person. Estinien had made mention of a "condition" and that she ought to know how to treat it. Yet, for the life of her, Phya cannot think of what it might be.
He calls her by name and her eyes raise to his.
A name that had been one she used in her previous life. Not her true name, but a name that she still recognizes as her own even now. She is painfully aware then in that moment she must be nothing like the woman in his memories. Her appearance does not match and perhaps other details of her personality have been changed as well. Things that remain unique to her as Phya and in the world of Corethas after the Calamity. ]
I'm here.
[ She continues to hold his hand until the grip loosens. Her own small squeeze is given before she stands. His hand is gently placed on the bed before she quickly moves to the bathroom. Part of her still reels at the fact she can open doors and know where it will lead to. Has anything changed within the decades they have been apart? Has he wanted to change anything?
Surely, the household staff is different. Age catches up to all in the end.
She returns with a small towel damp with warm water. Within moments she is once more at his side, draping the warm cloth over his forehead. Then, she tucks her large robe and skirt beneath her and sits once more at the floor beside the bed. Her hands gently rest over his single. Phya is aware she can be quite forward and stern with her decisions. She had to become that way in regards to her own health. So many different healers and doctors had different opinions and ideas on how to cure her ailments. Eventually she had to pick her own path. ]
Once you've rested? I shall see to changing the bandages again. They will... most certainly need to be changed frequently. With the infection taken care of you can start to heal properly from the dragon's bite. [ A pause. ] Hopefully you have no engagements for the next few days. If you are called upon? Then, something will have to be done. Perhaps they can come here for you as you recover.
[ Phya pauses once more. Her gaze settles on their hands as her ears twitch slightly. ] Your Temple Knights would see something of a miracle to see you returned by Starlight Celebration. Even I heard of their fondness for the Lord Commander where I lived and traveling here. No matter how far they are from Ishgard, they speak highly of their Lord Commander. Now knowing that it is you? I can see why. You have always inspired the best in others.
[ A gentle smile more at herself then. ] Which is to say I will need to do my utmost to get you on your feet to return to duty. It was always important to you, no matter which life I found you in.
no subject
As for that one thing that remains elusive and escapes Phya's grasp, perhaps that is for the best, at least for now. It is a topic that Aymeric does not like to speak on nor dwell on, and he has yet to even consider how to broach the topic with her.
He remains still, lying on the bed where he was placed, even as Phya bustles about obtaining a towel that has been dipped in water or perhaps placed in a basin beforehand. She places it on his forehead, and in response, his eyes briefly open, revealing their icy blue color, before they close once more.
She begins speaking, explaining her intentions and her plans, and even as she speaks of engagements that will most likely have to be postponed, he remains motionless but still listening to every word. He can hear her without issue; his power of speech is limited at present, as is his ability to keep his eyes open. But his ears function just fine.
And because of that, when she mentions the Temple Knights by name, going on to talk about the Starlight Celebration, and the opinion that others hold for him as Lord Commander, his posture stiffens immediately. It is hardly a strong gesture, but there is a tension in his frame that was not there mere seconds ago.
A look of consternation settles on Aymeric's face, betraying the doubt he feels that he can inspire anyone as he is now. Perhaps the days of him leading soldiers and being an inspiration are long gone, just as the man he was is also long gone now.
His eyes slit open once more, and they lock onto what he can see of Phya's face. It takes a significant amount of breath to form words, but he does his best. ]
What duty I once had- it has surely passed from me and to others in my absence. [ Perhaps that is for the best. ]
no subject
Things she has yet to earn in this lifetime... or earn at all to do.
The tension becomes obvious in his frame.
She gently squeezes his hand. ]
It has not. [ Phya shakes her head. ] They adore you. Your leadership. They trust you... and trust is not easy to come by in the world now, Ser.
[ Her tiny hands once again curl around his. ] You should not give up on them. Or yourself. For many? The Lord Commander is someone who makes sense in this world that no longer what it once was. The Calamity was decades ago, and yet, I still spoke with people who had memories of a time when Corethas was green. Ishgard standing and her Temple Knights are things people look to for stability and hope.
You may not feel it due to your current condition, but that does not change the truth. You have already proven yourself to the others around you. [ A shy look downwards is given. ] I heard many Knights speak highly of you over the years.
[ Then, a small sigh comes from her. She stands, squeezing his hand once more. ]
You need to rest. Sleep. I'll wake you when your bandages need changing. It may be easier for you to speak then.
no subject
It seems to him that he owes a great many people many apologies, but he has to start with Alkaid... no, with Phya. With... What was the name she trusted him with? It was her family name, or clan name, not the name she had adopted. The tension in his frame does not even begin to disperse, not even when Phya takes him to task for what he has said.
He can't summon up the strength to speak, but he manages to shake his head from side to side. No, it can't be what she says. I know what the people must be thinking. I know what thoughts have run through the minds of the Knights. They may have trusted me once, but how could they do that now?
I am not giving up on them, as I am confident they will rise above this. Perhaps by now, a new Lord Commander has been appointed. I suppose she is correct in saying I have given up on myself.
He feels himself recoiling from her words, wanting nothing else but to soundly reject them. But of course, in his present state, he does not have the strength, and what words he has managed to speak, combined with the twisting thoughts of his mind, has brought him closer to exhaustion once more.
She tells him of his need to rest, and while he would protest, he finds that he cannot. His eyelids are heavy, and he feels the need to sleep beginning to pull him down. But there's something else that overrides that exhaustion and causes him to push it aside for just a few moments longer. Suddenly, there is a strange fear that's gripping him, and while he feels he has no right to ask her for assurance... He draws a shaky breath and manages to form a few more words. ]
Will you still be here when I awaken? [ Will I awaken to find this was only a dream? ]
no subject
[ She continues to hold his hand until he finally does manage to drift into slumber. Her hands let go of his before quickly moving to the door. There, she is greeted once more by the steward and head maid. She quickly explains the situation. Their surprise and slight confusion can be felt rather than seen. Phya merely looks down. She has no proper way to explain a potential ancient bond between her and their lord. An arrangement is regardless struck on what is needed to keep Aymeric on the mend.
Then, she is left to her own.
Phya walks through the master suite. Certain items--paintings, decorations--all stand out to her. A soft bell or chime in her mind rings in familiarity even if she cannot pull the full memories to mind. Her ears tilt down and she twists her fingers together. How is she ever to stand against the memory of... herself?
More than once she looks at herself in the mirror in the room. How dainty she is, how small, how... nearly wild she must look compared to a neat and kept woman of the court. A type of woman he surely deserves and should be with given his station. Not only a knight, a Lord of Ishgard, but the Lord Commander. No wonder remains her mind then as to why her knight never appeared. He had far too many pressing matters and things in a life to command. They out rank her reborn into such a sickly body. Even if now is one of her better spells.
He shifts on the bed at one point and Phya races over. He turns away in his sleep and that is when she catches something that she should have remembered on her own. A fang is visible as he groans and she feels her body freeze. A cold spell takes her. Of course there are always rumors of what voidsent roam in the night--especially the kind she finds herself in realization of seeing before her.
Then, the guilt truly settles in her.
Not only had she died and left her beloved behind... she left him in a miserable existence. Not being a lord or a knight.
As a vampire.
Her hands lower, she looks at the ground. Ears press to her head and her tail stills. Everything seems to make sense in her mind then. How an Elezen can look so young after so long. Why guilt and loneliness consumed her. Why he would refuse so many healers... and why Estinien had believed her to be the only one to understand his "condition" as he called it.
Phya closes her eyes. Hands curl into her robes for a moment before she turns and heads to the door to the bedroom. Potions and alchemy will only aid his recovery to a point. She will need to do something else, even as she is certain any healer she had ever met would be horrified. She opens the door and calls for the head maid, asking for a cup to be brought. Confusion lingers on the staff once more but a cup is brought regardless. Phya thanks her before setting to the other side of the room.
The cup is placed on the mantle. A knife is pulled from her robes. The silver blade pierces her arm and blood drips into the cup. Something tells her that he will refuse it no matter how much she insists. Still, she must at least try.
Her fingers graze the wound and seal the injury. No trace of it is left. She cleans the knife with a towel then returns once more to the bed. The cup is placed on the bedside table and her hands raise to his shoulder. Then, a hand to Aymeric's face. She guides him back to her. ]
Ser, [ she still feels he has yet to give her permission to even call his name, ] I need to change your bandages... and you need to eat.
no subject
His injuries would say otherwise, however, and he ends up in a deep sleep that, if nothing else, will help with his recovery from the dragon bite. Still, even though he doesn't dream, some form of thoughts seem to spin themselves around in his mind... thoughts of Alkaid, thoughts of Phya as she is now. Thoughts of longing and feeling a need to apologize for what he sees as his own failure to protect her.
She might notice if she is looking that his mouth seems to move even as he sleeps, forming wordless sentences of apology. Then, he shifts on the bed, a sudden bout of agitation taking hold of him, and his mouth falls open slightly, revealing a visible fang. If he had been in control of himself, he would not have let her catch sight of it, but in his sleeping state, the motion happened on its own.
Still unaware of what has happened, he continues to sleep until he feels a hand on his shoulder, and then on his face, and he hears the sound of someone speaking quietly but with direction.
He stirs on the bed once more, and again, his eyes slit open just enough to let him see her. Alkaid... except she is different now. What does she call herself now? The thought enters his still sleeping mind, trying to take root there.
He hears her say something about bandages, which he understands, but then... she says he needs to eat, and instinctively, he recoils, wincing as the sudden motion pulls at his wound.
Whether she meant it that way or not, his reaction is clear: he does not respond well to the notion of eating. Of course, he remains unaware that she caught a glimpse of his fangs as he slept, but his opinion on the matter of feeding remains the same. ]
no subject
Somehow, his reaction to eating is hardly surprising. ]
Ser, please don't move as such. Your wound is still healing. [ She glances down at it, then looks back to his face. ] I... I know I am far from the position to ask anything of you, but, you need to eat. It is the only way you will truly recover. Your body is far too weak.
[ A small smile shows on her face. ] Trust me, Ser. I won't have you do something so very untasteful.
[ Phya first turns her attention back to his bandages. She begins to change them. Her nose scrunches in a familiar way at the smell, however, the signs are there that the healing process has truly begun. Thus, she sets about to continue applying the potions and new bandages.
Now, for the next part, she gives an unconscious inhale of breath. ]
It will hurt, Ser, but let me help you sit up as much as possible. [ Her arms move to help support him despite he is nearly a foot and more taller than her. ] You may lean on me as much as you need.
[ Phya aids Aymeric to sit as much as he finds himself able. Her hand then reaches out to grab the cup that still sits on the bedside. She holds it up to him in order for him to smell and at least attempt to hold the glass with her own hand. That way he may set the pace of his own feeding.
It would be a lie to say she was not nervous. Not because of his nnature, but, because her blood will certainly expose her. He would be able to tell how sickly of a woman she has been reborn into in this life. He may reject her because her blood does not taste the same as it once had. He will truly know how far she is from being Alkaid--K'lantaa. Yet, she does not realize how much of her remains the same that he should surely notice as well. ]
no subject
There seemed to be no other way to accomplish it other than to go after the rats that lingered in the woods. It was still distasteful, and he had to be careful so as to not deplete the entire population of rats, but it was enough to get him by.
Once he sustained the injury, however, he was no longer able to venture out to find the rats he needed, and the lack of food contributed to his weakness. One eye slits open to look at her, and then the other slowly opens as well. He finds his voice after a few more seconds, although it sounds rough to his ears. ]
Rats. Rats in the woods. [ He manages a small shake of his head; he won't ask her to go hunt rats for him. Maybe later when he's stronger, he'll go in search of one or two.
Then he quiets as she sets to work on changing the bandages and cleaning the wound. The smell reaches his nose too, and he'd recoil from it if moving wasn't an issue. But then he feels her arms around him, and he glances at her, wondering what she intends to do now.
He receives his answer once she attempts to help him sit up, and while he doesn't resist, he can't quite hide the look of discomfort as he tries to position himself into a sitting position with her help.
Once he comes to a stop, he takes a few moments to try and compose himself and wait for the ache from the wound to subside as well. While he's doing that, he sees Phya moving something towards him, and once he realizes what the cup she's holding contains, his attention focuses on it almost immediately.
Blood.
It's distasteful to him, what he has to do to survive. He would rather not drink from rats, but to drink from a human or other individual who has hopes and dreams and aspirations is unthinkable.
But the difference here is one that even he can't ignore; this isn't just a random sampling of blood. This blood belongs to Phya, someone he has known for a very long time now. He can feel it even if her appearance has changed. It isn't only the appearance that matters, after all. ]
You gathered this for me?
no subject
[ "Gathered" is certainly a way of phrasing it. A way she wouldn't necessarily phrase it herself. Suddenly, she is keenly aware that he would disagree with how she went about preparing the cup. He detests blood of people, and barely manages to live off the blood of animals. Hadn't he made the exception for her before?
Would he keep making the exception?
She shifts the cup in her hand to hold it properly for him. ]
You need to drink.
[ The ability to compelling has gone away with her previous life. Now, it is only a request. A plea. She may not be his healer after this spell, so she must make due with what time she has been given.
Phya gently shifts him to help his head tilts back. The hesitation and worry of how he will react to the taste of her blood. What he might learn of her from it. Regardless, he must eat. ]
no subject
He can hardly pretend that the scent of the blood in the cup is not stirring something up inside him, something he would rather not feel nor have awakened. But it is a part of him now, and he can't very well turn it off. ]
Do I? Should I, knowing that... that you had to spill your own blood to prepare this? I-
[ He hears her plea and understands it, and he wants to drink without hesitating. Perhaps he will drink in the end, but he can't allow himself to just grab it and ingest it like some mindless animal. ]
I imagine whatever hurt you had to cause yourself, you have since healed. [ Since he is at least somewhat certain that Phya is someone he knows, and knows very well indeed, even if her appearance is different. ]
I suppose that this time... [ The words trail off as if he forgot what else he was going to say. And by then, she is helping move him again, preparing him to drink from the cup.
It isn't what he wants to do, but he needs to eat, and so when she helps assist with tilting his head back, the blood in the cup slides slowly down his throat. His eyes flash red briefly as he drinks, but even as he fills his need, he does not drink greedily or deeply. In fact, he would rather not be doing this at all, not where she can see him.
Feeding is something he does in private, where no eyes can observe him. Now, he has no such luxury of hiding, and that's enough to make him feel as though his throat is closing up even as he feeds for the first time in who knows how long. ]
no subject
[ As fine as one can be with her record of poor health. No injury or scar remains of the deed. It would normally please her as a sense of skill in her craft, and yet, seeing his reaction to the whole state of affairs simply causes her ears to tilt and then press to her head. Her tail stills from its gentle sway.
Her eyes turn away as he drinks. Not from disgust of him or his condition. Far from embarrassment as well. She can simply sense he would prefer to not drink her blood--regardless of the circumstance. The notion is only fair. Not only has she already abandoned him once, but surely the quality is also far from enjoyable. If she were healthier would he be more willing? Most likely not. It is clear he hates his existence.
Once he has finally finished the cup, she turns and places it on the table beside the bed once more. One arm still aids him in sitting, while the other hesitates before simply allowing it to hang at her side. She has hardly earned the right to call him by his name, let alone wrap her arms around him and pull him close. Not only that, Phya remains mostly a stranger to him.
She glances to his face and looks away once she feels he would rather her not look at him. ]
You are fine to rest more now. Between the potions and feeding... your recovery should take less time.
no subject
What experiences you have had... what challenges you faced... I can only guess at what those might be, and that does not sit right with me. [ He can tell that she is not of the strongest constitution, and that troubles him suddenly and quite strongly. ]
I might be who I am now, but I still know my way around a kitchen. When I am fully recovered... [ A look of resolve slides into his eyes then. ] The kitchens have gone unused for too long. Perhaps it is time to rectify that.
[ But he finds himself slightly winded from speaking so much, even after finally drinking from the cup and having his fill. He feels her arm around him that's aiding him in sitting up, but he has noticed the way the other simply moves to hang at her side. That won't do. ]
If it does take less time, it is because of your assistance. And so...
[ Slowly and almost hesitantly, as if wondering if she will reject his advances, he reaches for her and carefully pulls her in closer. It is hardly a fast movement nor a rought one, as he wants to give her the chance to pull away and out of his reach. But somehow, he has guessed that she wishes she could be closer, or that she could hold him, but something is keeping her from doing so.
Perhaps she will express dislike for the way he moved her, but if she acts in such a way that indicates displeasure, he knows he will not argue, as he can imagine he's hardly desirable now because of his condition. ]
What will you do now?
no subject
[ In truth, she will not say it, but she is lucky to be alive after all of her health complications. Her sister had her own as well--especially as twins. She merely had more due to being the smaller of the two to begin with. Her condition is hardly different from other children. Some never saw the days beyond their childhood. Things have progressed since the initial years following the Calamity, but, it is still hard for any settlement to truly flourish.
Especially when the gates of Ishgard and the Holy See remain shut. ]
Y-you hardly need to repay me, Ser. This my talent as well as my profession. [ Phya glances down and her voice drops to hushed tones: ] Although, you most certainly already knew that.
I could do more to aid. This is simply healing the grievous wound and infection with alchemy and food. Healing, I... I do not have permission and I would not assume I would be allowed. Regardless of the Azure Dragoon's opinion. I would need your allowance. If you would even want me to use aether.
[ Her ears gently twitch at his sudden motion. Before she can even scold him for moving in such a manner, he has pulled her to him. Her forehead comes to his chest and she stills--not freezes. A beat passes before her trembling arms reach up to circle around him. Her face presses into his chest and a shaking exhale leaves her. Her tail relaxes. She simply sits besides the bed.
How many years have I dreamed about this...?
While not exactly as her dreams. He's unable to fully wrap his arms around her and hold her close. No dramatic claims of missing her for years and that they have been reunited. Perhaps those things are unneeded as they seemingly understand that without speaking the words. ]
What would you have me do?
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He is certain that those who are less fortunate view him and others as overlords who care little for the state of the poor, but he knows that is not the case for him. If it were up to him, he would use his own personal funds to see the Brume turned into a proper place to live, expanding upon it as necessary. After all, there are a great many buildings within Ishgard that could be repurposed, if only their owners would agree to such a thing. ]
It is not merely speaking pretty words when I say that I would welcome all who live in the settlements into Ishgard, if the decision rested wholly with me.
I do need to repay you, however. [ And while he is in no condition to really think up how he might repay her, much less act on it, his mind is already at work thinking about how to do that very thing.
But then she continues speaking, and now that Aymeric has some of his wits about him, he can actually ask the question on his mind: ]
Why do you say you do not have permission? [ Perhaps he needs to state it, but he realizes that she does not need permission, as she already has it. She could do whatever she wanted to him, and he would not protest. ]
Perhaps I did not have the chance nor the opportunity to say as much, but you have no need to ask. As you are the healer here, the decisionmaking ought to be left to you.
[ He finds himself content to simply hold her and feel her, thinking of nothing but how they have managed to find each other again when he thought such a thing was impossible. ]
What would I have you do? [ He shifts so that he can get a little closer to her. ]
Stay. Please.
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Especially as the Lord Commander had asked the Warrior of Light to help with the Heretics known as Saint Shiva.
A small smile tugs to her face. Those would be sentiments her knight would have in any life. A warrior made one to protect his people no matter who they might be. He may not see it as a sentiment to why he was chosen as Lord Commander, but, she can see it as clear as day. ]
Many would rather aid be sent to them instead of feeling as if they had been cut off from their citystate.
[ Phya gently presses into his hold, doing her best not to aggravate his wound. Her face hides in his chest to listen to his breathing and heartbeat. She had dreamed of this, imagine it even, holding the stuffed fox to her as she would sleep. Especially on days where illness took her harshly. A small gift, one she hardly can keep or deserves, as she is so certain he will dismiss her once his mind clears. ] I will stay as long as you'd have me.
[ Her shoulders curl inwards then. A silence fills the room. Shame and guilt rise to the surface once more. How could she ever earn the permission once again? After she hurt him so? He has been left in this miserable state for nearly a hundred years because of her... ]
I left you here. Alone. [ Her voice is soft and older tones leak into her words. Phrasing and sentiments from her ancient soul in ancient days. ] I hurt you deeper than any could by dying... how could... I barely have the right to say your name, let alone be your healer as I was before...
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He is confident that his second in command has things well in hand; perhaps by now, she has taken the position of Lord Commander in his stead. He would not begrudge her that, nor see it as usurping his position. ]
Perhaps you can tell me more about these settlements, and I will see about ensuring that aid is sent to them as you suggested. We- I have been rather amiss in keeping apprised of certain affairs. The settlements are just one of those affairs.
[ He knows that he has work to do, and a great deal of it, but he is certain she'll insist he must wait a little while longer before resuming his duties.
For now, he contents himself with holding her, paying little or no heed to his wound, even if she does. He wants to hold her, wants to comfort her... wants to tell her that he loves her just as much now as he did before. And he knows without a doubt that that is the truth. ]
Forever? Until- [ Until they part again and are weaved back into the story with new lives but the same souls. ]
What of how I hurt you? [ His voice deepens as the pain and regret and guilt that he tried but failed to bury takes hold of him once more. Oh, yes, he tried to bury it, but it refused to let him go. It's weighed on him these past many years, and he has been unable to forget it. ] You would have survived if I had known- if I had been there to defend you.
[ His gaze lowers and his shoulders fall. ] When I think of what you must have experienced... [ She might notice his hands beginning to shake as his mind brings to life what he imagines her final moments were like. ]
I imagined that if you returned, you would only despise me.
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[ Her blood must give all of that away. Signs of how she is far from strong and a sickly woman. Perhaps not the intricate details, but enough to show that she is not as he knew her before. ]
Forever. [ Phya repeats the phrase. ] Until you no longer wish to be bound.
[ As surely even his ancient soul must tire of how they part. How she must disappoint him. Hurt him. ]
You didn't hurt me. I may not have survived even if you were there. [ She can't be certain what it is, but she has the deep feeling that even Aymeric could not have saved her. Something dark rumbles in her memories but she can hardly pull it to mind. ] You were performing your duties. As you always do in any life. That has always come first and... I have known and accepted it. It wasn't your fault.
[ If she had been quicker, faster, able to defend herself. Would she have lived? ]
I could never hate or despise you. It was my fault. I wasn't strong enough or fast enough. You did nothing wrong. I was the one that left you.
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Perhaps... perhaps I should not ask it of you. Of any of you. Your time is better spent elsewhere, and that applies to the Warrior of Light and your sister both. I shall have to send representatives in my stead to take account of the state of the settlements and report back to me, so that I may then address what needs the people may have.
And if I cannot utilize what is available to me, then I will call upon others who may be able to lend their aid.
[ His gaze focuses back on hers for a moment. ] Your abilities? [ He pauses briefly so that he might focus on the lingering taste from the drink she gave him. ] There is a difference, but it is still you. You are still you. And, I am confident that it is possible to see you regain strength.
Why would I no longer wish to be bound? [ His own tone shifts then to something older... more ancient. ]
Do you wish to be free of this bond? [ He asks in earnest, wondering if the bond chafes her now after so many years. ]
What sort of partner... protector... What sort of person am I if I was not able to save you? My duties should not have come before my duty, my responsibility to you.
[ His gaze lowers, as does his posture, and he seems to sink in on himself just a fraction as the guilt weighs on him once more.
Of course he hears her words, but he finds it difficult to truly digest them, much less believe them. ]
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[ Phya's tail twitches slightly. ] How could I even taste the same as before? Illness and weakness aside... everything about me should be different. How is there enough that is the same?
[ His tone shifts. Her ears stand on end. Breath catches in her throat. Eyes widen. Her heart pounds loudly in her chest and ears. Surely, he can tell how her heart beats faster and louder now. Aymeric and her ancient love are the same being--the same person. Yet, hearing the age in his voice has always made her weak at the knees. A stoic wall that lifts to show the love they've shared despite the many rebirths and time that has passed. ]
No! [ Her answer is immediate. Tears come to her eyes. That longing feels as if it will consume her. But, she hasn't been forgiven. She hasn't yet been told she may call him by his ancient or current name. Let alone the affectionate names. ] No, I don't. But, how could you stand to be with me after all the hurt I've caused you?
[ She stands then. Arms move from around him to encompassing his shoulders. Hands guide him to rest her head against her bosom. One hand rests on the back of his head. Hopefully he will not be angry. ]
Your duties have always come first. I know it and accept it in any life. Your people, no matter who they are, mean the world to you. How could I ask you place me ahead of them?
[ Even if it had led to their parting in more than one life.]
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And... I think you have more strength than you realize. Of course, for now, a map of the settlements is more than enough.
[ Aymeric tilts his head to one side as if considering her and her words carefully. ] Some things do not change. Appearances may change; the state of one's health may very clearly change. [ He gestures to himself as if to underline his point. ]
You are still you, and I would know you anywhere.
[ His eyebrows lift in surprise at the sudden speed and force of her answer. It surprises him, but it pulls him away from his thoughts that are trying to take a darker turn. ]
How can I stand to be with you? There is no one else that I would rather be with, even after everything that we have gone through.
[ He feels her arms move to circle his shoulders, and then he feels her hands on either side of his head, guiding him until he's resting against her. He doesn't pull away or resist her movements, simply letting her guide him where she will. He's far from angry; instead, he just wants to stay like this, to rest against her and be with her. ]
I may always have responsibilities, duties, tasks that must be fulfilled... But by that same token, I will always have a responsibility and a duty to you that must be seen to as well, if not above everything else, when the situation calls for it. When it does not... it is about finding that balance, but I must say that you will always be slightly above it all, in my mind.
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[ Her gaze softens at his answer. Her heart skips a beat. He truly is her ancient lover; her knight. Not that any doubt had been in her mind about it at all. Still, it proves that he can be who he is despite the illness from his injury and the darker turn of his thoughts and personality. All stay of her own doing in her mind despite what he says.
Her fingers gently brush along the strands of his hair. It's oily, and long. Dirty and in need of cleaning. That will be once his wound has closed and he can bathe properly. If he will wish her aid in that act remains to be seen. ]
It rarely allows for a balance of such things: life. [ Phya's eyes close and she can recall instances from other lives. Things that torn them apart. Moments in which they were so close to being together and were still unable to have the realization of the life they longed for in ancient days. ] First... we must see to your health now. I can heal your wound through aether if you'd like. You will need to eat once more after you've rested...
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Again, whatever assistance you offer is appreciated and it is more than enough.
[ When she brushes against the strands of his hair, he feels slightly embarrassed, as he knows he has not taken care of himself one bit. His hair is unwashed, as is the rest of him, and he is quite certainly not a desirable sight to behold at the moment. Still, he finds he does not wish to pull away, even though he knows it must not be pleasant, touching his uncared for hair.
Instead, his eyes slide closed for a moment as exhaustion sweeps over him. He still feels weak and tired and the wound still gives him discomfort. He was able to conjure up enough strength to speak with her and exchange words, but it seems as though his condition has caught up to him once more.
He wishes only to rest against her, perhaps to even rest his head against her shoulder, granting her permission to heal him with whatever means she feels are necessary. Perhaps he is in worse shape than even he realized, as now all he wishes to do is simply drift off to sleep. Perhaps to not wake again? No, I will not do that, not now that I have found her. I must live. ]
I- I have spent too long in this diminished state. There are things that need my attention, and more importantly, you are here now, and I must... I wish to be able to stand on my own so that I might welcome you properly.
[ He pushes aside the feelings of weakness that are trying to pull him down so that he can respond appropriately. ]
Will it tax you overly if you use aether to do your work?
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Regardless of his appearance or condition, Phya continues to brush through his hair. The motion is soothing for both of them. A part of her longs to simply be held and shielded--a childish dream that she does not deserve to see happen yet. Maybe once he has forgiven her and given permission she will have that without guilt plaguing her. ]
No. I can rest while you sleep. [ A nod to reaffirm her statements. She will be fine. ] Lay down, Ser. I'll help and then I will get to work.
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As she continues brushing her hands through his hair, he feels his eyelids growing heavier as the need for sleep continues to pull on him. How long has it been since he really slept well? His wounds might continue to trouble him, but for the first time in a very long time, he feels almost peaceful. Not that he believes someone like him deserves peace. ]
All right. [ He imagines she would not simply tell him something to appease him, and so he decides to simply take her at her word. Perhaps in doing so, she will also know that he trusts her and believes her.
It takes some movements once more to position himself properly, and he frowns and winces as the wound protests, but he manages to return to a prostrate position after a short while.
He has to stop and catch his breath because of the exertion of moving, but he still manages to say in between breaths: ]
I spent many hours looking for you, hoping that one day, I might see your face passing by, either as a lone traveler or with a group. I would have ventured out searching for you if I had been able.
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I waited. [ A small beat is allowed to pass before she looks down at his side once more. ] I was unable to leave when I was younger. I was either ill too often or weak due to the illness. Especially as Corethas is bathed in eternal winter. The Temple Knights would often come through our settlement on patrol or to find shelter when blizzards would come through. I thought... that one day I might see you. It had been to the point that I knew when new recruits had joined the ranks and when others had left for other positions.
[ Her head tilts slightly. ] Knowing that you had become the Lord Commander, however, it makes sense as to why I never saw you. You wouldn't have come to a decent sized settlement without reason. I should have tried to leave sooner.
[ She sighs and raises her hands to hover slightly above his wound. ] May I begin?
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