[ It is only just beginning to sink in for him, but he has not been living since he lost her and since he was turned. He had no interest in living without her, but he wasn't about to simply die. He simply was just going to exist.
Now, he feels something that has been missing for these last long years that he's spent alone: a spark. Something has come back to life, even if only slightly, and he has not felt that in a very long time.
He notes how she sits back, and he slowly reaches out to her, trying to take hold of her hand or arm or anything he can reach. He does not want her to be so far away, unless she really is that uncomfortbale around him. ]
I have much to make up for. [ It's stated simply and quietly, but Aymeric believes it to be the truth. ]
Yes, even though we have just met. But it hardly feels like our first meeting. [ Their ancient souls seem to be calling out to each other, and he is more than eager to respond. ] This time, I intend to do everything that I can to protect and defend you. Always.
[ He looks at her, and something happens that has not happened in a very long time. His eyes soften, and his lips turn up into a half-smile, and he feels the love he has for her all but radiating from him. Perhaps it is only in his mind, but it feels stronger than ever.
The squeeze of her hand on his makes his smile grow even more, and if he could do it, he would sit up again and pull her in for a longer hug. ]
What is a few more days, after all? I should endeavor to return to my duties as soon as I am able, as the people have been kept waiting for too long as it is, but I imagine that pushing myself too soon would hardly be of use to them or you.
When I am recovered, I will see to ensuring you are repaid for your efforts.
[ Her hands squeeze his once more. A gentle look takes her face. No, it's most certainly not their first meeting. They have met again and again through lives by design. Bound together in hopes of finding the other in their next lives.
He smiles and her heart pounds. ]
I would say you have nothing to make up for, but I can see it will be a losing battle. [ She instead smiles at him. They will need to work to heal one another from the wound of her death. Simply being alive can't heal the damage done. ] You do not need to repay me. Allowing me to even heal or care for you again is more than enough. More than I thought...
[ That I would ever be able to do again.
A hand hesitantly reaches over to rest on top of his head. The other places his down in order to hover above his wound. ]
Oh, but I must repay you. But as for the rest, you have my full permission to do whatever it is you desire. I am simply relieved to have you here once more.
[ He can't recall the last time he even felt anything like relief or a feeling of contentment, and yet having Phya here with him, regardless of what she is doing, gives him a great sense of calm.
She places her hand on his head and his eyes close briefly before opening once more. ]
Of course. If it is uncomfortable, I can manage.
[ It can't be worse than what he has dealt with so far, or worse than her experiencing death. ]
The only thought that comes to mind is simply to be held. Protected. So many nights in the cold dark true winters of Corethas had gone by and all she wished for was to be in the arms of the person she had wanted to spend every life with. Such a thing had hardly happened as often as she had wished. She can tell because that is the feeling from deep within her. ]
Very well.
[ She fears it may be quite painful.
A hand raises over the wound once more and she closes her eyes. First, she merely feels his aether. It is wild and chaotic as rushing water down a mountain when nothing obstructs it. Umbral--darkness. Not in terms of lacking light or evil. No, simply, that light is static. He is so vastly swung in one direction that she would almost have thought he to be tempered if she was simple at reading aether.
Her fingers delicately attempt to weave through the strands of aether. She hopes to simply nudge them into place so that they might weave on their own. Yet, she can tell that she will need to aid him. Not that it will not heal on it's own. The fact is far more that it will need to be directed to heal properly.
Thus, she gets to work.
Knots of aether are undone. Healing that has already begun is undone and rewoven. The work is meticulous, and yet, she seems so skilled at it. Almost as if she has always done such a thing. Especially with his aether. ]
[ Aymeric's only desire is to be with Phya and make up for the time that they both have lost. If her desire is to be held and protected, then he is more than willing to oblige. He has missed her, a thing that does not need to be said, and so it seems that their desires are by and large the same.
But before they can be as they were, he must be healed and recovered so that he can be the leader and provider and partner that he needs to be. And so he grits his teeth, anticipating an unpleasant experience as she sets to work healing his injuries.
What follows is something even he was unprepared for. Her feeling his aether is not what hurts; it isn't until she begins working to undo the knots of aether that have formed, undoing the healing that has started, that the full meaning of her warnings crashes down on him.
It feels as though he is being cut apart with a knife as she undoes what healing has started. Suddenly he can see nothing except a blinding white pain, and his hands grip the blankets beneath them, turning the skin of his knuckles white as well.
Eventually, as the minutes seem to pass, some of his vision clears and the pain becomes less sharp but still uncomfortable. He finds himself trying to latch onto anything that he can think of to distract from the discomfort, but as she works, his mind only conjures up memories of the day he was bitten by the dragon, which hardly lends to a state of ease.
Still, he tries to simply force himself to lie still so he does not cause her trouble as she continues to work. ]
[ The memories that come to mind of his attack also come through his aether. She can see the dragon attack. How it latched onto his side and meant to kill. He would have died, if he were not a vampire, and had the ability to heal faster than a normal being might.
It brings to mind, for her, another time entirely. A cave and a dragoon--a familiar one at that--bringing Aymeric to her to heal. A large dragon's claw had gone to his back. Recognizing who he was on the spot, but fearing that he would not only not know who she was... but also reject her for what she had been at the time. Phya's ears stand on end and she jolts from the sudden unearthed memory that should not have carried over to this life.
None of her memories should.
Things repeat in odd ways.
Her fingers gently brush through the strands of his hair as he attempts to clutch onto the bed below him. She can do little to comfort as she heals. Truthfully, she had not expected his aether to fight her so much. It wishes to bend and twirl it's own way. Then again, he has always been a particular type of stubborn in all of his lives.
Will his aether recognize her as she continues to work?
Phya gently begins to brush along the bandage in hopes of guiding his aether more directly. Showing it where to connect and mend as opposed to injecting her own into the wound. It would be lost amongst the chaos. ]
[ Something else springs to mind: not a recollection of another time in which he was injured, but one that hurts far more. He remembers a messenger arriving with news for him; the person was grim-faced and serious, and it instantly made him stand up and ask what had happened.
What he heard next rendered him weak at the knees and he dropped back into his chair, stunned. No, he was more than stunned, he was in shock. Frozen, unable to even speak or think about anything except for what he had learned: the person he loved most, who he opened himself up in so many ways... she was dead. Gone. Forever, he thought, if not for what little he knew about souls and aether. Those thoughts were hardly reassuring in the moment.
All he felt then was numbness. And right now, in a way, feeling nothing would be better than feeling a knife's blade cutting him apart. As Phya works, the pain seems to dull a little at a time until it becomes something more tolerable. He can't tell what the difference is, as he is hardly a master of aether and its manipulation, but where his entire frame was tense and rigid, now it seems to be relaxing and unclenching as Phya continues her task.
Instead of the blinding pain, now all he feels is exhaustion. Weakness. Healing someone requires something from the healer and the person being healed, as far as Aymeric understands, and that something seems to be strength. At least, he feels as though his strength was siphoned away with the aether used to heal his wounds.
If someone wished to harm him, now would be the time to do it, as he faintly recognizes he is in quite the vulnerable position right now. He trusts Phya to do her work and to do it well, and while he would feel something of apprehension because of his vulnerable state, he is just too tired to do it.
His eyes slit open and search for hers, trying to lock onto them and convey without words that he's putting all of his trust in her. Some ancient echo from the past tells him she's never steered him wrong before, so why should he stop trusting her now? ]
[ Phya's eyes open ever so slightly to meet his. A small smile is given, her tail swaying gently side to side. While his aether is still rather stubborn? The idea she had is working. It travels in a way to reattach itself in a way that will certainly exhausted him, but, will lead to properly healing. Within a few days he will be properly on his feet. The strength will come in the days following that event. Then, he will be able to lead his people and face the Holy See as needed.
Not that she desires praise or to even be shown off to the public. Far from it. She simply wishes to live quietly with him--as quiet as one can with the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights. No doubt her sister will still wish to travel and continue to look for her long lost friend. The sights she will see and the travels she will have... they will truly be a thing of wonder. A wonder that her sister will rush back to tell.
Phya has no desire to see the world anymore. She simply wishes for what she has always wanted: a life with her other half. ]
I'm tired. [ Her voice rings of old tones despite her youthful appearance. Blue eyes fall slightly to the wound to make certain the aether flows. ] I don't wish to adventure or to see the world anymore. I simply wish to be here... with you.
[ He does his best to focus his gaze on hers, wanting to look only at her as she works at healing his wounds. It distracts him from the discomfort and reminds him that she's here, she's with him. They have a chance of being together as both of them continuously long for.
He finds words difficult to form in the moment, but his eyes open just a little wider in response to her own words expressing how she feels and what her wishes are concerning them. His hand relaxes its hold on the blankets and shifts to try and find hers so that he can lightly brush his fingers against the back of her hand. It might seem like a curious action, but it's meant to communicate that he wishes the same. They are both tired, and older, no matter how they might look, and all he wants is to just be with her.
Maybe they don't have lofty dreams anymore, but there's things that he still wishes to do with her now: little things like taking walks, holding each other's hands, talking about anything that comes to mind... It doesn't matter what it is, so long as they are together.
His fingers move, lightly brushing her hand once more. ]
[ Her gaze shifts to his at his light tough. A small smile is given, but still filled with worry and doubt he will decide to have nothing to do with her by the end. A fear that he would have spent enough of his soul's existence waiting to be with her. Perhaps it is best if she finds a way to reverse it--simply for his sake.
Much of her ancient soul has truly given up on the concept that life would allow their bond to remain.
He has always been the stronger of the pair of them. One isn't meant to remember things from lives gone past. Yet, somehow, she knows quite a few many things. For some reason, her ancient soul refuses to let go of the memories of lives in which they failed to be together. The feeling of losing him again bubbles to mind, but Phya pushes it to the side for now. Healing him is what matters the most at the moment.
She gently moves her fingers along the wounds to continue guiding his aether. The worst of the damage has been lightly linked, making it so his natural healing can properly heal. Rest and food will be what he needs next. Thus, her hand lifts and gently brushes along his. ]
I will reexamine after you rest... but it should be able to heal properly on its own now.
[ Simply lying here holding her hand is hardly enough for him. Of course, he knows he should not push himself when she has only just finished tending to his wound, but he has done nothing but lie down unable to move for too long. Before, he had no reason to wish to move, but she is here with him, alive and well except for how she appears small and unhealthy. But if he has anything to say about it, he'll do what he can to see that she catches up on everything that she has missed because of the war.
She keeps guiding his aether along, but he already feels stronger than before, so he tries to shift on the bed, attempting at least some sort of movement. She may not allow him to sit up, but he wants to move, to position himself into something as close to sitting as possible.
After a moment, he finds his voice again, because there are words that he wishes to say. ]
Then- allow me to forestall rest for a moment longer. [ His voice does not sound as strong as he would like, but it will have to do for now. ] I imagine you have had enough of silence, and- [ He hesitates briefly, wondering if he should say this next part. But he sees no reason to withhold it. ] I have missed the sound of your voice. It still is your voice, even now.
[ He shifts again, trying to push himself up just a little by leaning on one elbow, but he knows that moving too much will cause him to tire too soon... sooner than he wishes, so he pauses there. ]
The moment he attempts to sit, the hand at his side moves to his chest and lightly presses. The intention behind the motion is clear: lay down. Should he wish to lay on his back and speak until he sleeps? She will oblige. However, he is far from the condition to sit.
It is still YOUR voice, even now.
Phya's ears lift slightly. Her hands tremble. Her ancient soul seems to cry out inside at the recognition. Intuition tells her that he realizes more than when they met in her previous life. He has somehow come into more of an understanding of their ancient relationship. Perhaps it was time or the fact they had parted ways.
A blush forms on her cheeks before she shyly looks down. Her tail sways ever so slightly. ]
What... what would you like to discuss, Ser?
[ She can't even think his name. Not until given permission. She must earn that right back. ]
[ His expression shifts to one of clear discontent, as he wants to sit up and speak properly with her. There is much he wishes to say, some of which has been lost to the intervening years, but he still wishes to tell her all the things he has been unable to until now.
She will not allow him to sit, and while he wishes to protest, with a reluctant sigh, he lowers himself back down until he's resting against the bed once more.
Still, he does not look away from her, even as she blushes and looks down. ]
First... [ He manages a half smile for her benefit, to illustrate that he is amused rather than put out. He hopes she recognizes this as saying she never lost the right to address him by his name. ] My name is Aymeric, not Ser.
[ An apologetic expression settles on her face. She knows he wishes to be moving and doing all that he may normally do. Yet, he is still healing, and those things will simply make it more difficult to heal. He has never been one to wish being out of commission in any of his lives.
Her hand gently lifts from his chest, almost as if shying away from touching him out of turn. Out of place.
Then, it lowers into her lap. It begins to twist with her other hand. A nervous tick in any life. ]
I know your name. [ Her gaze quickly moves to his to show she saw his smile. ] That hardly means I've earned the permission back to say it... let alone think it. Not after leaving you here.
[ He is supposed to be a capable leader, directing soldiers when they are needed, and of late, he has all but failed at his duties. In a way, he feels as though he ought to be considered disgraced, his reputation in shambles. Perhaps it is. Perhaps when and if he is able to return to his post, he will only be turned away. If that is the case, then surely Phya will not wish to remain with him, a disgraced man.
Such thoughts nearly cause him to recoil, already feeling the shame of the imagined scenario, but he manages to force himself to refrain. He does not wish her to think he is recoiling from her, after all. ]
On the contrary, you never lost the right to say it. It has always been yours and it has never been revoked. The circumstances of your leaving were not of your own making, after all. I do not begrudge you for them.
[ Instead, he despises himself for failing to see them circumvented. ]
[ Phya meets his gaze once more. The expression is clear as day on her face. The feeling of disgrace. The feeling that she had done opposite of what she should do. She is meant to heal him and yet she hurt him. He may insist another is at the cause of her death and that may be true. Yet, she knows the damage it has done to his mind and his heart. Years worth of pain and suffering she should have been there to heal if not prevent.
She raises her hand to reach out to him but stops short once more. Phya's gaze falls. ]
... Ser Aymeric. [ She says it gently. Almost hesitantly. As if saying the words loud enough may shatter what she sees around her to reveal it all to be merely a dream. ] Aymeric.
[ Her beloved, her protector, her knight. Not that she believes to have the right to call him hers any longer.
Ice blue eyes remain on the bed with the space between them. He would have her name now. Formalities and pleasantries. She would rather he see her as she was before. Stronger, more powerful. More broken than resigned. Broken has the implications of being able to be fixed. ]
My name from before. My real one. [ A gentle nod. ] You coul keep referring to me by that name.
[ His eyes and gaze lack their customary sharpness, having been dulled by his injury and years of being alone, and yet when he looks at Phya, there is nothing in them but love. Of course he still loves her. Nothing in their star or beyond the star would make him stop loving her.
It may take time for him to heal from the years of their separation, but he imagines she needs to heal as well. Perhaps now they can begin to heal together. ]
It feels good and right to hear you say that again. [ That is rather understating matters, but Aymeric is simply relieved that she is here with him at all. ]
If that is the name you wish to use, then of course, I will use it. [ He has not forgotten her name; how could he, after all? He thought that perhaps she wished to use another name now that she has been born as someone else: another form, but the same soul. ]
Lantaa. [ His tone of voice deepens as he says her name, and the look in his eyes grows even more intense than before. ]
[ A part of her even wishes that he would refer to her by her ancient name. However, she feels as if that knowledge has been lost to time. Or, rather, that time has made it so very much that she is not that person any longer. In her mind? She is far from the woman he fell in love with all those lives ago.
Perhaps he should not call her by her ancient name.
A smile tugs at her lips with his approval of her using his name. Not doubt it sounds different with her new voice.he approves of the sound and calling. That is what truly matters to her.
Then, he says her previous name.
Her eyes snap up. Hear pounds. Ears stand on end. How she wishes she were still "Lantaa." A stronger woman. Broken, but not resigned. Someone who was not cursed with illness despite being a healer. Someone who could walk with her head held high and confident in her abilities. Learn from the stars...
Perhaps by being called the name again she can pretend to be her former life. A life she should have had with him.
She slides from the bed in order to sit beside it. Then, she rests her head next to his arm. A hand rests raises to lay across his own. Her larger tail sways. ]
[ Truthfully, he would call her by whatever name she gave him, as long as it meant having her still with him. There is a part of him that expects she will take her leave as soon as he is able to stand and walk on his own. She has no obligation to stay, and he is not about to force her to if she wishes to leave.
It makes him smile in return to see the smile tugging at her lips; and then he sees the way her eyes and ears both seem to snap to attention, and his eyes meet hers immediately. As far as he is concerned, she is Lantaa, and Phya, and her ancient self, and he loves each one of them as parts of what makes her who she is.
She may be different now, but he can still see her as the woman he fell in love with and continues to love even now. That is one thing that he does not see changing.
His eyes follow her as she slides from the bed, moving to sit beside it, and he smiles once more when she rests her head next to his arm. He would move to place his hand on top of her head, but moving would also mean disturbing her, and so he decides against it. ]
Then I shall have to do it more, won't I? [ The smile he gives her is his widest one yet, and it is filled with all the love that he can manage to summon. ]
[ She would much rather lay beside him. However, he needs the space for his wounds to heal in her mind. Curling around her could simply aggravate it all more. That is the last thing she wishes to have happen. He needs to heal properly.
Her fingers gently brush along the back of his hand. The touch is light enough that she could pull away in a moments notice if it was undesirable. ]
I-if you would chose to do so... and if you would truly wish for me to stay once your wounds are healed.
[ In Aymeric's mind, any discomfort or aggravation would be worth it to have her close to him once more. He would not push her away if she moved to lie beside him. A part of him wants to reach for her, to take her by the hand or arm and invite her to lie down with him.
Still, he smiles when she touches the back of his hand with her fingers lightly brushing against it. He has missed being touched, and specifically, being touched by her. ]
Why would I not? Who else would I rather have nearby but you? As long as you wish to remain, I am happy you are here.
Perhaps you may not be so elated to be with me the more you know of me in this life.
[ Weak. Unable to have the feats she surely once had. Small. Broken on the inside--deep to her soul.
How can he look at her and not see how she is not the same woman he had fallen in love with those many lives ago. At least, she feels as if she is someone entirely different. Someone who had been determined and headstrong, yet now is afraid the very soul she tied herself to may throw her to the street and from his life seemingly eternal. ]
However, for now, you need to rest. Once you awaken again I will tend to the bandages and reassess the wound. I will feed you and... we can go from there.
Why would I not be? I- [ He pauses to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts and to put his feelings into words. ] I wish to know all about you, everything you wish to share... and perhaps the things you need time before you can share them. One day.
[ He has no intention of pushing her or rushing her into anything. He loves her, and he wishes to stay with her, for as long as she wishes to stay with him. If one day she decides she does not wish that any longer, he has already resolved that he must let her go. He does not want to let her go for any reason, but if it is better for her... wouldn't it be selfish of him to insist? He believes that to be the case.
And perhaps they might find they are similar at heart, more similar than either of them could have guessed. After all, he is hardly whole anymore, not as she once knew him. ]
You should rest too... Lantaa. [ The name still seems to fit her, even though her appearance has changed. Perhaps it is his own memories that insist on matching the name to the individual who has somehow returned to him, even though he had thought such a thing impossible. ] If this bed is unsatisfactory, the staff can prepare one for you.
[ He is certain the rooms are in need of cleaning, but he still retains confidence in what remains of the household staff to prepare a room for her. ]
[ Her eyebrows draw together as her brilliant blue eyes raise to his steel coated ones. Her heart pounds. She loves him so very, very much. The statement feels redundant to make somehow. Obviously she does, as it had been suggested they bind their souls together for every incarnation they might ever have.
Yet, something about this life feels unique. Almost as if he is the closest to the man he once was when she fell in love with him. If only she were close to the woman she surely had been.
A shake of her head. No, she would not wish any other bed. ]
Is it... truly alright I share your bed?
[ Phya could curl into his uninjured side. However, allowing him the bed so he might move is the best idea. ]
[ He can't help but feel some force that's drawing him in, making him feel as though he's being pulled towards her. It's love, or fate, or both, and he has no intention of resisting that pull. He has waited for her, longed to find her again, longed to apologize. And more than that, he's longed to have a life with her again, as they have over the many times they have been reborn in other forms and other lives. ]
Of course it is. I would have it cleaned and the linens changed, of course, but for now-
[ His gaze travels to the covers on the bed. They are at least a little cleaner than the rest of it, but he wonders if she minds that. It would hardly be comfortable. Perhaps he could even move with assistance to another location while the bed linens are replaced. ]
If I asked to have the staff replace the linens, I could move to the couch, at least temporarily. It should not take long.
[ Better than her having to contend with an uncared for bed. ]
It will always be all right for you to share the bed. Our bed.
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synthneon2024-11-25 02:03 am
no subject
Now, he feels something that has been missing for these last long years that he's spent alone: a spark. Something has come back to life, even if only slightly, and he has not felt that in a very long time.
He notes how she sits back, and he slowly reaches out to her, trying to take hold of her hand or arm or anything he can reach. He does not want her to be so far away, unless she really is that uncomfortbale around him. ]
I have much to make up for. [ It's stated simply and quietly, but Aymeric believes it to be the truth. ]
Yes, even though we have just met. But it hardly feels like our first meeting. [ Their ancient souls seem to be calling out to each other, and he is more than eager to respond. ] This time, I intend to do everything that I can to protect and defend you. Always.
[ He looks at her, and something happens that has not happened in a very long time. His eyes soften, and his lips turn up into a half-smile, and he feels the love he has for her all but radiating from him. Perhaps it is only in his mind, but it feels stronger than ever.
The squeeze of her hand on his makes his smile grow even more, and if he could do it, he would sit up again and pull her in for a longer hug. ]
What is a few more days, after all? I should endeavor to return to my duties as soon as I am able, as the people have been kept waiting for too long as it is, but I imagine that pushing myself too soon would hardly be of use to them or you.
When I am recovered, I will see to ensuring you are repaid for your efforts.
[ And now it is a case of "when" and not "if". ]
no subject
He smiles and her heart pounds. ]
I would say you have nothing to make up for, but I can see it will be a losing battle. [ She instead smiles at him. They will need to work to heal one another from the wound of her death. Simply being alive can't heal the damage done. ] You do not need to repay me. Allowing me to even heal or care for you again is more than enough. More than I thought...
[ That I would ever be able to do again.
A hand hesitantly reaches over to rest on top of his head. The other places his down in order to hover above his wound. ]
May I begin? It... it may be very uncomfortable.
no subject
[ He can't recall the last time he even felt anything like relief or a feeling of contentment, and yet having Phya here with him, regardless of what she is doing, gives him a great sense of calm.
She places her hand on his head and his eyes close briefly before opening once more. ]
Of course. If it is uncomfortable, I can manage.
[ It can't be worse than what he has dealt with so far, or worse than her experiencing death. ]
no subject
The only thought that comes to mind is simply to be held. Protected. So many nights in the cold dark true winters of Corethas had gone by and all she wished for was to be in the arms of the person she had wanted to spend every life with. Such a thing had hardly happened as often as she had wished. She can tell because that is the feeling from deep within her. ]
Very well.
[ She fears it may be quite painful.
A hand raises over the wound once more and she closes her eyes. First, she merely feels his aether. It is wild and chaotic as rushing water down a mountain when nothing obstructs it. Umbral--darkness. Not in terms of lacking light or evil. No, simply, that light is static. He is so vastly swung in one direction that she would almost have thought he to be tempered if she was simple at reading aether.
Her fingers delicately attempt to weave through the strands of aether. She hopes to simply nudge them into place so that they might weave on their own. Yet, she can tell that she will need to aid him. Not that it will not heal on it's own. The fact is far more that it will need to be directed to heal properly.
Thus, she gets to work.
Knots of aether are undone. Healing that has already begun is undone and rewoven. The work is meticulous, and yet, she seems so skilled at it. Almost as if she has always done such a thing. Especially with his aether. ]
no subject
But before they can be as they were, he must be healed and recovered so that he can be the leader and provider and partner that he needs to be. And so he grits his teeth, anticipating an unpleasant experience as she sets to work healing his injuries.
What follows is something even he was unprepared for. Her feeling his aether is not what hurts; it isn't until she begins working to undo the knots of aether that have formed, undoing the healing that has started, that the full meaning of her warnings crashes down on him.
It feels as though he is being cut apart with a knife as she undoes what healing has started. Suddenly he can see nothing except a blinding white pain, and his hands grip the blankets beneath them, turning the skin of his knuckles white as well.
Eventually, as the minutes seem to pass, some of his vision clears and the pain becomes less sharp but still uncomfortable. He finds himself trying to latch onto anything that he can think of to distract from the discomfort, but as she works, his mind only conjures up memories of the day he was bitten by the dragon, which hardly lends to a state of ease.
Still, he tries to simply force himself to lie still so he does not cause her trouble as she continues to work. ]
no subject
It brings to mind, for her, another time entirely. A cave and a dragoon--a familiar one at that--bringing Aymeric to her to heal. A large dragon's claw had gone to his back. Recognizing who he was on the spot, but fearing that he would not only not know who she was... but also reject her for what she had been at the time. Phya's ears stand on end and she jolts from the sudden unearthed memory that should not have carried over to this life.
None of her memories should.
Things repeat in odd ways.
Her fingers gently brush through the strands of his hair as he attempts to clutch onto the bed below him. She can do little to comfort as she heals. Truthfully, she had not expected his aether to fight her so much. It wishes to bend and twirl it's own way. Then again, he has always been a particular type of stubborn in all of his lives.
Will his aether recognize her as she continues to work?
Phya gently begins to brush along the bandage in hopes of guiding his aether more directly. Showing it where to connect and mend as opposed to injecting her own into the wound. It would be lost amongst the chaos. ]
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What he heard next rendered him weak at the knees and he dropped back into his chair, stunned. No, he was more than stunned, he was in shock. Frozen, unable to even speak or think about anything except for what he had learned: the person he loved most, who he opened himself up in so many ways... she was dead. Gone. Forever, he thought, if not for what little he knew about souls and aether. Those thoughts were hardly reassuring in the moment.
All he felt then was numbness. And right now, in a way, feeling nothing would be better than feeling a knife's blade cutting him apart. As Phya works, the pain seems to dull a little at a time until it becomes something more tolerable. He can't tell what the difference is, as he is hardly a master of aether and its manipulation, but where his entire frame was tense and rigid, now it seems to be relaxing and unclenching as Phya continues her task.
Instead of the blinding pain, now all he feels is exhaustion. Weakness. Healing someone requires something from the healer and the person being healed, as far as Aymeric understands, and that something seems to be strength. At least, he feels as though his strength was siphoned away with the aether used to heal his wounds.
If someone wished to harm him, now would be the time to do it, as he faintly recognizes he is in quite the vulnerable position right now. He trusts Phya to do her work and to do it well, and while he would feel something of apprehension because of his vulnerable state, he is just too tired to do it.
His eyes slit open and search for hers, trying to lock onto them and convey without words that he's putting all of his trust in her. Some ancient echo from the past tells him she's never steered him wrong before, so why should he stop trusting her now? ]
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Not that she desires praise or to even be shown off to the public. Far from it. She simply wishes to live quietly with him--as quiet as one can with the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights. No doubt her sister will still wish to travel and continue to look for her long lost friend. The sights she will see and the travels she will have... they will truly be a thing of wonder. A wonder that her sister will rush back to tell.
Phya has no desire to see the world anymore. She simply wishes for what she has always wanted: a life with her other half. ]
I'm tired. [ Her voice rings of old tones despite her youthful appearance. Blue eyes fall slightly to the wound to make certain the aether flows. ] I don't wish to adventure or to see the world anymore. I simply wish to be here... with you.
As we've tried to so many times before.
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He finds words difficult to form in the moment, but his eyes open just a little wider in response to her own words expressing how she feels and what her wishes are concerning them. His hand relaxes its hold on the blankets and shifts to try and find hers so that he can lightly brush his fingers against the back of her hand. It might seem like a curious action, but it's meant to communicate that he wishes the same. They are both tired, and older, no matter how they might look, and all he wants is to just be with her.
Maybe they don't have lofty dreams anymore, but there's things that he still wishes to do with her now: little things like taking walks, holding each other's hands, talking about anything that comes to mind... It doesn't matter what it is, so long as they are together.
His fingers move, lightly brushing her hand once more. ]
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Much of her ancient soul has truly given up on the concept that life would allow their bond to remain.
He has always been the stronger of the pair of them. One isn't meant to remember things from lives gone past. Yet, somehow, she knows quite a few many things. For some reason, her ancient soul refuses to let go of the memories of lives in which they failed to be together. The feeling of losing him again bubbles to mind, but Phya pushes it to the side for now. Healing him is what matters the most at the moment.
She gently moves her fingers along the wounds to continue guiding his aether. The worst of the damage has been lightly linked, making it so his natural healing can properly heal. Rest and food will be what he needs next. Thus, her hand lifts and gently brushes along his. ]
I will reexamine after you rest... but it should be able to heal properly on its own now.
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She keeps guiding his aether along, but he already feels stronger than before, so he tries to shift on the bed, attempting at least some sort of movement. She may not allow him to sit up, but he wants to move, to position himself into something as close to sitting as possible.
After a moment, he finds his voice again, because there are words that he wishes to say. ]
Then- allow me to forestall rest for a moment longer. [ His voice does not sound as strong as he would like, but it will have to do for now. ] I imagine you have had enough of silence, and- [ He hesitates briefly, wondering if he should say this next part. But he sees no reason to withhold it. ] I have missed the sound of your voice. It still is your voice, even now.
[ He shifts again, trying to push himself up just a little by leaning on one elbow, but he knows that moving too much will cause him to tire too soon... sooner than he wishes, so he pauses there. ]
I have always liked the sound of your voice.
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The moment he attempts to sit, the hand at his side moves to his chest and lightly presses. The intention behind the motion is clear: lay down. Should he wish to lay on his back and speak until he sleeps? She will oblige. However, he is far from the condition to sit.
It is still YOUR voice, even now.
Phya's ears lift slightly. Her hands tremble. Her ancient soul seems to cry out inside at the recognition. Intuition tells her that he realizes more than when they met in her previous life. He has somehow come into more of an understanding of their ancient relationship. Perhaps it was time or the fact they had parted ways.
A blush forms on her cheeks before she shyly looks down. Her tail sways ever so slightly. ]
What... what would you like to discuss, Ser?
[ She can't even think his name. Not until given permission. She must earn that right back. ]
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She will not allow him to sit, and while he wishes to protest, with a reluctant sigh, he lowers himself back down until he's resting against the bed once more.
Still, he does not look away from her, even as she blushes and looks down. ]
First... [ He manages a half smile for her benefit, to illustrate that he is amused rather than put out. He hopes she recognizes this as saying she never lost the right to address him by his name. ] My name is Aymeric, not Ser.
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Her hand gently lifts from his chest, almost as if shying away from touching him out of turn. Out of place.
Then, it lowers into her lap. It begins to twist with her other hand. A nervous tick in any life. ]
I know your name. [ Her gaze quickly moves to his to show she saw his smile. ] That hardly means I've earned the permission back to say it... let alone think it. Not after leaving you here.
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Such thoughts nearly cause him to recoil, already feeling the shame of the imagined scenario, but he manages to force himself to refrain. He does not wish her to think he is recoiling from her, after all. ]
On the contrary, you never lost the right to say it. It has always been yours and it has never been revoked. The circumstances of your leaving were not of your own making, after all. I do not begrudge you for them.
[ Instead, he despises himself for failing to see them circumvented. ]
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She raises her hand to reach out to him but stops short once more. Phya's gaze falls. ]
... Ser Aymeric. [ She says it gently. Almost hesitantly. As if saying the words loud enough may shatter what she sees around her to reveal it all to be merely a dream. ] Aymeric.
[ Her beloved, her protector, her knight. Not that she believes to have the right to call him hers any longer.
Ice blue eyes remain on the bed with the space between them. He would have her name now. Formalities and pleasantries. She would rather he see her as she was before. Stronger, more powerful. More broken than resigned. Broken has the implications of being able to be fixed. ]
My name from before. My real one. [ A gentle nod. ] You coul keep referring to me by that name.
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It may take time for him to heal from the years of their separation, but he imagines she needs to heal as well. Perhaps now they can begin to heal together. ]
It feels good and right to hear you say that again. [ That is rather understating matters, but Aymeric is simply relieved that she is here with him at all. ]
If that is the name you wish to use, then of course, I will use it. [ He has not forgotten her name; how could he, after all? He thought that perhaps she wished to use another name now that she has been born as someone else: another form, but the same soul. ]
Lantaa. [ His tone of voice deepens as he says her name, and the look in his eyes grows even more intense than before. ]
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Perhaps he should not call her by her ancient name.
A smile tugs at her lips with his approval of her using his name. Not doubt it sounds different with her new voice.he approves of the sound and calling. That is what truly matters to her.
Then, he says her previous name.
Her eyes snap up. Hear pounds. Ears stand on end. How she wishes she were still "Lantaa." A stronger woman. Broken, but not resigned. Someone who was not cursed with illness despite being a healer. Someone who could walk with her head held high and confident in her abilities. Learn from the stars...
Perhaps by being called the name again she can pretend to be her former life. A life she should have had with him.
She slides from the bed in order to sit beside it. Then, she rests her head next to his arm. A hand rests raises to lay across his own. Her larger tail sways. ]
I missed hearing you call me.
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It makes him smile in return to see the smile tugging at her lips; and then he sees the way her eyes and ears both seem to snap to attention, and his eyes meet hers immediately. As far as he is concerned, she is Lantaa, and Phya, and her ancient self, and he loves each one of them as parts of what makes her who she is.
She may be different now, but he can still see her as the woman he fell in love with and continues to love even now. That is one thing that he does not see changing.
His eyes follow her as she slides from the bed, moving to sit beside it, and he smiles once more when she rests her head next to his arm. He would move to place his hand on top of her head, but moving would also mean disturbing her, and so he decides against it. ]
Then I shall have to do it more, won't I? [ The smile he gives her is his widest one yet, and it is filled with all the love that he can manage to summon. ]
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Her fingers gently brush along the back of his hand. The touch is light enough that she could pull away in a moments notice if it was undesirable. ]
I-if you would chose to do so... and if you would truly wish for me to stay once your wounds are healed.
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Still, he smiles when she touches the back of his hand with her fingers lightly brushing against it. He has missed being touched, and specifically, being touched by her. ]
Why would I not? Who else would I rather have nearby but you? As long as you wish to remain, I am happy you are here.
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[ Weak. Unable to have the feats she surely once had. Small. Broken on the inside--deep to her soul.
How can he look at her and not see how she is not the same woman he had fallen in love with those many lives ago. At least, she feels as if she is someone entirely different. Someone who had been determined and headstrong, yet now is afraid the very soul she tied herself to may throw her to the street and from his life seemingly eternal. ]
However, for now, you need to rest. Once you awaken again I will tend to the bandages and reassess the wound. I will feed you and... we can go from there.
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[ He has no intention of pushing her or rushing her into anything. He loves her, and he wishes to stay with her, for as long as she wishes to stay with him. If one day she decides she does not wish that any longer, he has already resolved that he must let her go. He does not want to let her go for any reason, but if it is better for her... wouldn't it be selfish of him to insist? He believes that to be the case.
And perhaps they might find they are similar at heart, more similar than either of them could have guessed. After all, he is hardly whole anymore, not as she once knew him. ]
You should rest too... Lantaa. [ The name still seems to fit her, even though her appearance has changed. Perhaps it is his own memories that insist on matching the name to the individual who has somehow returned to him, even though he had thought such a thing impossible. ] If this bed is unsatisfactory, the staff can prepare one for you.
[ He is certain the rooms are in need of cleaning, but he still retains confidence in what remains of the household staff to prepare a room for her. ]
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Yet, something about this life feels unique. Almost as if he is the closest to the man he once was when she fell in love with him. If only she were close to the woman she surely had been.
A shake of her head. No, she would not wish any other bed. ]
Is it... truly alright I share your bed?
[ Phya could curl into his uninjured side. However, allowing him the bed so he might move is the best idea. ]
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Of course it is. I would have it cleaned and the linens changed, of course, but for now-
[ His gaze travels to the covers on the bed. They are at least a little cleaner than the rest of it, but he wonders if she minds that. It would hardly be comfortable. Perhaps he could even move with assistance to another location while the bed linens are replaced. ]
If I asked to have the staff replace the linens, I could move to the couch, at least temporarily. It should not take long.
[ Better than her having to contend with an uncared for bed. ]
It will always be all right for you to share the bed. Our bed.
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