[ If Jill was any of those things, now she is resolved that the girl who once had a relatively happy life as the daughter of a chieftain might as well be dead. Poise, grace, posture... none of those things seem to matter now, although they may still cling to Jill like shadows of her old life. Not that she remembers very much of it, but it was happy, and she had a family.
Now... She isn't certain what she has. Clive is here, and that means the world to her, and that is why she is determined to have Phya do whatever she needs to, to save him. ]
Please. Clive ought to be the one giving you the permission, but as he cannot right now... Please, do whatever you need to. Save him, and I'll find a way to pay you, even if you insist that payment is not needed. If guiding his aether is what will save him, please...
[ Jill wonders when she became so emotional; can it be because of Clive and her concern for him? Or could it be a result of everything she has done up until now? She thought herself hard because she had to be, but there are times when she feels anything but hard. Perhaps she's the weak one here, and hasn't been able to see it.
But none of this matters; what matters is that Clive lives. ]
Please, do whatever you can, and I- I will owe you a great debt.
Her gaze shifts from Jill to Clive. It reminds her of how she had reunited with the Lord Commander of Ishgard... and how she had met him in a life before. Something of the two before her strikes a resemblance. Not in appearances, but, something far deeper. She feels as if there is a connection that mimics her own to the Lord Commander. Then again, perhaps she is simply projecting.
Her hands raise and rest gently above Clive's back. Eyes slip shut. Her fingers move up and down his back as if to guide the red feather like aether that clings to him. She can feel warmth, but not of his person. Warmth of fire. His aether is charged with fire almost as the Lord Commander's is charged with darkness and thus making it chaotic. However, that does not mean temperment. No, this is more simply as if the aether is naturally aligned more in one direction than it is neutral.
Her head tilts slightly. Eyebrows knit together.
She returns to work.
Ardbert looks to Jill. ] That wing that came from him does not resemble any normal avian wing.
[ Jill finds herself pausing for a moment as Phya continues her work and Ardbert seemingly continues to examine her. Perhaps it is only in her imagination, but she feels his eyes on her and she can all but hear his musings and wonderings as if spoken aloud. She is certain that they are all curious about her and Clive, and she can hardly blame them for it.
To them, they must resemble quite the puzzle... and a mystery. ]
You would be correct in your statement, ser. [ Jill pauses and takes a breath, eyes traveling back over to look at Clive before returning to focus on Ardbert. ]
Aye. The tales say that they take on aspects of large beings. Ones that most would believe to be Primals. [ Ardbert glances to Mya. Has she heard of the term before? ] Only one Primal has that particular sort of wing...
This is not enthrallment, Ser Ardbert. [ Phya tilts her head in direction of the other two in the room. ] His aether is not aspected to the element of fire. "Aligned" is a far better term. However, it flows through him naturally in his aetheric current. Nothing claims or takes hold of him as one would see in a manner of enthrallment. [ An eye opens to meet Jill's gaze as if to say that she would speak with her later, but not with the others around. A discussion of healer to the one that speaks for a patient. ] There is hardly any need to inform the Holy See...
[ The door suddenly slams open. Phya jumps slightly, ears atop her head standing up. Ardbert looks over towards the Temple Knight that has joined them. The knight looks around the room then his eyes settle on Phya. ]
My lady, the Lord Commander will be here shortly! Shall I escort him in...
I'm no lady. [ Still, Phya nods and looks to Jill. Then, to Ardbert and Mya. Her gaze settles on her sister where an embarrassed smile settles on her face. ] I have been caring for the Lord Commander's wounds as Ser Estinen asked me.
[ Clive remains motionless. A gentle moan of pain escapes him now and again, but he does not shift nor move. ]
So you know, then; at least you know enough to recognize... [ She hesitates for a moment before continuing. ] You recognize what we are. [ At least, they recognize what Clive is, but she feels as though she can hardly reveal Clive's secret while concealing hers. To do so would be cowardly in her mind. ]
I expected that you would inform whoever it is you answer to about us. [ She eyes Phya with some level of apprehension, but there is resignation to it as well. Still, if she intends to not inform on them, even if it is only temporarily, Jill intends to take it for what it's worth.
She opens her mouth to say something more, but they are interrupted by the sudden slamming open of the door. Jill jumps a little herself, not managing to stop herself in time.
At the mention of the Lord Commander's arrival, Jill straightens herself up as much as she can, while still remaining as close to Clive as she dares. She is not about to abandon him, even if danger or death is what awaits them both. Who knows what this Lord Commander wants or intends? Part of her reasons that he must not be a cruel sort, or the feeling in the room would be far more tense than it is, but she does not know these people nor their intentions, and that is what makes her wary. ]
Aye, I am. Maybe not in entirely or with knowledge my fellow Scions would have. [ Ardbert frowns more. There is clearly a difference between tempered, what Clive and apparently the woman beside him are, and the eikons around them. ] THAT wing, however...
[ Phya simply gives the look of apprehension a smile. She is certain the Lord Commander would see someone similar to himself in Clive. People who are aligned aetherically to one element and yet not tempered. It would do him good to have another to relate.
She turns once the knight introduces the Lord Commander and salutes. Phya stands as formally as she can. Ardbert simply gives the Elezen a smile and a nod. The blood is still bright on his Dragoon armor. However, the turn of events have been pressing that he hasn't thought of needing to clean them. ]
That wing belongs to the Phoenix, as you have evidently guessed. [ There is increasingly less reason to hide the truth, as the signs of it are fairly obvious, and so Jill discloses that particular detail. As to how much Ardbert knows or has guessed, she is still trying to determine. ]
Clive and I are Dominants, but Clive can also access and use the abilities of other Eikons as he sees fit.
[ She pauses there, wondering if she ought to divulge how exactly Clive became able to use those other abilities. ]
[ Ardbert blinks in surprise, but any more conversation is quickly quieted the moment the Temple Knight shows in the Lord Commander. The smile is still given to Aymeric, as well as an informal nod. Phya gives a small curtsy despite their romantic connection. She has yet to tell her sister in detail about the information, let alone inform Ardbert of the situation. As far as they know? She is his healer. ]
Ser Aymeric. [ Phya steps to the side to show the unconscious Clive on his front. His brand is obvious for all to see. ] The Temple Knights found him with his companions in the frozen tundra and asked that I heal him...
[ Ardbert stands taller. ] My lance strayed and hit him. I know he's in the garb of a Imperial soldier, but...
[ Ardbert looks to Jill and Torgal. The hound stands and walks over to Aymeric. With a quick sniff the hound barks and begins to wag his tail. He recognizes the Elezen. The question is if he recongized them. ]
[ Jill remains silent for a few moments more, her arms folded tightly across her chest as though bracing against more than just the cold of the tundra. She can't seem to stop herself from looking at Clive, only glancing away for just a few seconds at a time. Of course she's worried about him; what if he does not survive, even with the efforts from the healer? But Aymeric's arrival causes her no small amount of concern bordering on fear, even though the Lord Commander is a stranger to her.
She moves slowly, not wanting to cause anyone to react out of alarm, wishing only to position herself closer to Clive, as if her closeness will protect him if anyone decides to harm him. Surely they wouldn't, so soon after Phya said she had been requested to heal him, but she can't help but be wary. ]
He is not an Imperial soldier, at least not a willing one. Neither of us have been able to make our own decisions for quite some time. What we have done and who we have become was not done willingly, although I understand you will not believe my words.
[ She forces herself to breathe, feeling the sting of cold air as she does, but she needs to calm herself and calm her nerves as well. ]
Your honesty does you credit, Ser Ardbert.
[ His tone is even, just measured and leveled, as he is used to offering neutral observations. ]
You did not need to speak of your lance, yet you did, and that speaks to a sense of honor I would not overlook.
[ His attention flicks briefly to the armor Clive wears, then to the hound now at his feet. Torgal’s tail wags. A low bark breaks the silence, and it draws a faint crease between Aymeric’s brows: not of suspicion, but of contemplation. He lets him draw near, tilting his head slightly. ]
The hound seems to recognize me. Strange, given we have never met. [ At least, not to his recollection. ]
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Now... She isn't certain what she has. Clive is here, and that means the world to her, and that is why she is determined to have Phya do whatever she needs to, to save him. ]
Please. Clive ought to be the one giving you the permission, but as he cannot right now... Please, do whatever you need to. Save him, and I'll find a way to pay you, even if you insist that payment is not needed. If guiding his aether is what will save him, please...
[ Jill wonders when she became so emotional; can it be because of Clive and her concern for him? Or could it be a result of everything she has done up until now? She thought herself hard because she had to be, but there are times when she feels anything but hard. Perhaps she's the weak one here, and hasn't been able to see it.
But none of this matters; what matters is that Clive lives. ]
Please, do whatever you can, and I- I will owe you a great debt.
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Her gaze shifts from Jill to Clive. It reminds her of how she had reunited with the Lord Commander of Ishgard... and how she had met him in a life before. Something of the two before her strikes a resemblance. Not in appearances, but, something far deeper. She feels as if there is a connection that mimics her own to the Lord Commander. Then again, perhaps she is simply projecting.
Her hands raise and rest gently above Clive's back. Eyes slip shut. Her fingers move up and down his back as if to guide the red feather like aether that clings to him. She can feel warmth, but not of his person. Warmth of fire. His aether is charged with fire almost as the Lord Commander's is charged with darkness and thus making it chaotic. However, that does not mean temperment. No, this is more simply as if the aether is naturally aligned more in one direction than it is neutral.
Her head tilts slightly. Eyebrows knit together.
She returns to work.
Ardbert looks to Jill. ] That wing that came from him does not resemble any normal avian wing.
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To them, they must resemble quite the puzzle... and a mystery. ]
You would be correct in your statement, ser. [ Jill pauses and takes a breath, eyes traveling back over to look at Clive before returning to focus on Ardbert. ]
Are you familiar with the term "dominant"?
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This is not enthrallment, Ser Ardbert. [ Phya tilts her head in direction of the other two in the room. ] His aether is not aspected to the element of fire. "Aligned" is a far better term. However, it flows through him naturally in his aetheric current. Nothing claims or takes hold of him as one would see in a manner of enthrallment. [ An eye opens to meet Jill's gaze as if to say that she would speak with her later, but not with the others around. A discussion of healer to the one that speaks for a patient. ] There is hardly any need to inform the Holy See...
[ The door suddenly slams open. Phya jumps slightly, ears atop her head standing up. Ardbert looks over towards the Temple Knight that has joined them. The knight looks around the room then his eyes settle on Phya. ]
My lady, the Lord Commander will be here shortly! Shall I escort him in...
I'm no lady. [ Still, Phya nods and looks to Jill. Then, to Ardbert and Mya. Her gaze settles on her sister where an embarrassed smile settles on her face. ] I have been caring for the Lord Commander's wounds as Ser Estinen asked me.
[ Clive remains motionless. A gentle moan of pain escapes him now and again, but he does not shift nor move. ]
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I expected that you would inform whoever it is you answer to about us. [ She eyes Phya with some level of apprehension, but there is resignation to it as well. Still, if she intends to not inform on them, even if it is only temporarily, Jill intends to take it for what it's worth.
She opens her mouth to say something more, but they are interrupted by the sudden slamming open of the door. Jill jumps a little herself, not managing to stop herself in time.
At the mention of the Lord Commander's arrival, Jill straightens herself up as much as she can, while still remaining as close to Clive as she dares. She is not about to abandon him, even if danger or death is what awaits them both. Who knows what this Lord Commander wants or intends? Part of her reasons that he must not be a cruel sort, or the feeling in the room would be far more tense than it is, but she does not know these people nor their intentions, and that is what makes her wary. ]
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[ Phya simply gives the look of apprehension a smile. She is certain the Lord Commander would see someone similar to himself in Clive. People who are aligned aetherically to one element and yet not tempered. It would do him good to have another to relate.
She turns once the knight introduces the Lord Commander and salutes. Phya stands as formally as she can. Ardbert simply gives the Elezen a smile and a nod. The blood is still bright on his Dragoon armor. However, the turn of events have been pressing that he hasn't thought of needing to clean them. ]
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Clive and I are Dominants, but Clive can also access and use the abilities of other Eikons as he sees fit.
[ She pauses there, wondering if she ought to divulge how exactly Clive became able to use those other abilities. ]
What do you intend to do with us?
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Ser Aymeric. [ Phya steps to the side to show the unconscious Clive on his front. His brand is obvious for all to see. ] The Temple Knights found him with his companions in the frozen tundra and asked that I heal him...
[ Ardbert stands taller. ] My lance strayed and hit him. I know he's in the garb of a Imperial soldier, but...
[ Ardbert looks to Jill and Torgal. The hound stands and walks over to Aymeric. With a quick sniff the hound barks and begins to wag his tail. He recognizes the Elezen. The question is if he recongized them. ]
no subject
She moves slowly, not wanting to cause anyone to react out of alarm, wishing only to position herself closer to Clive, as if her closeness will protect him if anyone decides to harm him. Surely they wouldn't, so soon after Phya said she had been requested to heal him, but she can't help but be wary. ]
He is not an Imperial soldier, at least not a willing one. Neither of us have been able to make our own decisions for quite some time. What we have done and who we have become was not done willingly, although I understand you will not believe my words.
[ She forces herself to breathe, feeling the sting of cold air as she does, but she needs to calm herself and calm her nerves as well. ]
Your honesty does you credit, Ser Ardbert.
[ His tone is even, just measured and leveled, as he is used to offering neutral observations. ]
You did not need to speak of your lance, yet you did, and that speaks to a sense of honor I would not overlook.
[ His attention flicks briefly to the armor Clive wears, then to the hound now at his feet. Torgal’s tail wags. A low bark breaks the silence, and it draws a faint crease between Aymeric’s brows: not of suspicion, but of contemplation. He lets him draw near, tilting his head slightly. ]
The hound seems to recognize me. Strange, given we have never met. [ At least, not to his recollection. ]