#truthblood

     his  smile  falls  for  a  moment , and  aymeric  looks  aged . the  people  rally  in  shadows  for  his  disposal  and  the  annihilation  of  the  dravanians , they  say  he  speaks  heresy  &  has  committed  acts  as  disgusting  as  laying  with  their  natural  enemy : lord  aymeric  says  they  are  of  dragons  blood , all  of  them , and  for  that  they  would  have  his  throat .      he  clears  it  to  push  all  his  thoughts  away , finally  taking  a  sip  of  his  drink .

    𝘢  𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘶𝘮  𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴  𝘵𝘰  𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬  𝘵𝘩𝘦  𝘢𝘪𝘳  𝘰𝘶𝘵  𝘰𝘧  𝘵𝘩𝘦  𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 , a  sharpening  of  his  senses  making  him  suddenly  aware  of  an  electric  current . her  words  set  a  deep  unease  in  his  heart , turning  his  head  away  from  her  and  towards  the  moonlight  bleeding  into  the  infimary  room  from  the  window . late  night  visits  had  become  regular , the  weighted  load  of  paperwork  not  so  heavy  when  mitigated  by  her  company .     there  was   an  itch  in  the  back  of  his  mind , or  something  more  akin  to  a  scab , that  demanded  to  be  scratched . he  knew  deeply  the  work  she  put  into  revealing  a  long  buried  truth , how  her  convictions  were  strong  enough  to  make  decisions  aymeric  himself  never  would  have . for  the  sake  of  what  she  believed  was  right . for  the  chance  to  foster  peace , right  wrongs , and  make  amends  she  had  chosen  paths  and  alleyways  that  aymeric  would  never  choose  to  make .     does  that  make  his  convictions  weaker  than  hers ? does  that  make  his  sense  of  morality  superior  to  hers ? he  pursed  his  lips  in  the  silence  he  created , something  distant  and  haunting  behind  his  eyes .     how  many  ishgardian  citizens  would  have  died  for  her  idea  of  peace ? how  many  heretics  would  aymeric  have  had  to  slaughter  to  safeguard  the  innocents  within  ishgard’s  sacred  walls ? and  would  it  not  have  been  seen  as  necessary  by  the  both  of  them ? who  was  wrong ? who  was  right ?      he  thinks  of  the  children  orphaned  when  the  wards  protecting  ishgard  fell . of  their  shaking  bodies , held  together  by  the  arms  of  priests  alone , crying  for  their  parents , for  their  homes , for  their  peace . was  ysayle  ever  able  to  stand  so  close  to  dragon  fire  that  it  singed  her  hair ? did  the  stench  of  the  burned  dead  linger  on  her  clothes  for  days , months , years  after  the  battle ?     what , exactly , was  the  necessity  in  that ?     bitterly , aymeric  set  his  quill  down  before  it  snapped  in  his  fingers , and  leaned  back  into  the  shabby  wooden  chair  that  had  begun  to  grow  well  worn  from  his  visits .      ❝    my  lady , i  am  not  the  man  to  decide  when  killing  is  or  is  not  okay ,    ❞    a  diplomatic  answer , but  it  hardly  does  anything  to  satisfy  the  discomfort  in  his  heart . he  looks  up  at  her  through  eyelashes , mouth  parting , then  closes  his  mouth  again  before  finding  something  more  mundane  for  his  eyes  to  look  upon .      ❝    logically  i  understand  that  there  will  always  be  nuance  to  such  strenous  situations , and  i  am  not  the  man  who  decides  if  those  justifications  are  correct , but  they  are . . . justifications .    ❞    fingers  curl  tightly , throat  tightening  up  strangely , and  words  rise  like  vomit  as  the  guilt  inside  his  heart  trembles .    ❝    the  things  we  tell  ourselves  to  help  us  sleep  at  night . the  things  we  have  to  justify , in  any  way  possible , in  order  to  go  on  and  survive .         ❝    thordan  the  first  most  likely  thought  his  actions  justifiable  when  they  ate  of  ratatoskr’s  eye . nidhogg  thought  his  actions  justifiable  when  he  killed  countless  innocents  in  revenge . my  own  father  thought  his  path  to  be  true , even  when  he  had  been  corrupted  and  devoured  into  a  god  king .     ❞      he  pauses , uncurling  his  fingers  to  scratch  gently  at  the  paper  beneath  them . he  hummed , trying  to  collect  his  thoughts  better , and  sighed  deeply .     ❝    you  can  say  that  it’s  necessary  to  yourself  all  you  please , my  lady . but  have  you  looked  upon  the  victims  of  your  necessary  killings ?    ❞

@truthblood​:  pray , stay with me a moment longer .

 Beyond  the  frosted  panes  is  a  nation  that  crumbles  through  the  days.  

 Or  so  he  has  been  told.  

 Were  he  to  judge  the  progression  of  his  beloved  Ishgard  from  what  he  spies  beyond  his  window  then  he’d  believe  the  star  halted  to  a  standstill.  Naught  changes  save  for  the  passage  of  day  to  night  to  day.  Here  in  this  quiet  corner  of  the  infirmary,  time  loses  meaning  when  all  that  is  within  remains  as  it’d  been  afore.  Though  from  tales  whispered  from  the  excited  breaths  of  his  companions  to  the  gossip  dripped  between  his  minders,  he  is  to  believe  that  revolution  has  swept  through  the  city.  A  millennia  of  tradition  dashed  again  and  again.  

 And  he  a  man  frozen  and  breathless,  stood  tremulous  before  it  all.  

 Healed  enough  to  walk  though  still  lingering  on  the  edge  of  full  recovery,  Estinien  regains  his  privileges.  He  has  the  blessing  of  that  damned  Abel  to  roam  without  supervision  and  in  this  idleness  does  his  feet  oft  take  him  to  her  room.  More  often  than  not  does  he  find  her  asleep,  silver  hair  fanning  about  her  as  a  halo  that  shines  in  the  faint  morning  light.  In  these  quiet  moments  does  he  become  a  thief,  stealing  the  memory  of  the  moment  for  himself  for  but  a  breath  and  then  he  is  away  as  silent  as  whence  he  came.  

 Superstition  hangs  heavy  through  these  halls  that  lends  to  fearful  whispers  of  ghosts  haunting  the  shadows.  He  thinks  himself  near  as  one.  Half  sundered  and  scraped  away  from  the  inside  out,  the  hollow  shell  of  his  being  still  echoing  in  the  wake  of  a  dread  wyrm’s  raging  fires.  He  only  lives  when  in  the  company  of  others,  in  those  brief  moments  when  his  companions  manage  to  slip  as  mistral  winds  to  his  bedside  and  though  they  promise  to  return  anon,  Estinien  is  ever  left  wanting  for  more,  the  unspoken  cry  that  sinks  within  his  chest.  Don’t  go.  Please  stay.  

 From  the  bed  does  she  stir  close  to  waking.  From  his  post  at  the  door  does  his  mouth  tighten  into  a  thin  hard  line.  These  brief  snatches  are  all  that  he  allows.  He  has  to  wonder  why.  Why,  when  he  no  longer  has  the  excuse  of  the  Eye  to  continue  this  distance.  He  is  free.  And  pathetic  being  that  he  is,  Estinien  knows  not  what  to  do  with  this  freedom.  

 He  straightens  and  makes  ready  to  leave,  thinking  of  the  travel  sack  he  keeps  hidden  beneath  his  bed.  Ishgard  is  in  the  midst  of  celebration,  the  Lord  Commander  at  a  public  assembly,  all  eyes  turned  to  he  and  the  bright  shining  future.  ‘Twould  be  no  task  at  all  to  slip  away  unnoticed.  

 Save  for  the  voice  that  calls  to  him  from  the  bed.  His  fingers  tighten  around  the  rough  frame  of  the  door.  He  doesn’t  turn,  though  he’s  certain  he  could  see  her  now,  awake  and  seated  in  bed,  still  pale  and  ethereal  in  the  gloom.  A  goddess  still,  having  snatched  the  light  of  the  moon’s  reflection  off  sheets  of  ice  and  taken  it  for  her  own.  

 ❝ You  should  rest, ❞  he  says  through  the  painful  lump  in  his  throat.  A  dozen  pleas  disguised  as  platitudes  and  lies  tumble  through  his  mind.  Sleep.  Rest.  You’ll  find  me  in  the  morn.  And  so  forth  and  so  forth.  There  is  a  journey  that  must  be  made  and  he  has  never  been  one  for  farewells.  Only  he  hears  the  thump  of  unsteady  footsteps  from  behind  and  Estinien  whirls  about,  ready  to  admonish  the  fool  woman.  He  sees  her,  framed  by  the  windows,  not  a  goddess,  but  a  woman.  She  repeats  her  entreaty.  An  echo  of  familiar  words.

 Teetering  on  the  edge  of  indecision,  he  falls  at  last.  Several  steps  taken  forward  to  catch  her  in  his  arms  lest  she  fell  with  him.  Time  begins  to  move,  the  ticking  of  a  distant  clock  that  he  could  but  hear  if  he  would  only  listen.  Estinien  holds  her  close,  as  though  he  could  sink  into  every  part  of  her  being,  allow  the  chill  of  her  to  seep  into  his  soul  and  fill  those  empty  caverns.  

character development questions !

10. Do they believe in love at first sight?

OH BOY DOES SHE. i dont htink caeda is like. the best person to go to for romance advice because. she's never really truly been in love. she's a romantic though, through and through. i don't think she expects others to also instantly fall in love with her she's not. a weirdo but i think that. romance is very important to her. court her, even if it's in small ways she'll love it.

21. how do they display affection

DEPENDS ENTIRELY ON WHO SHE'S BEING AFFECTIONATE TO. make no mistake she is affectionate, but she's also very good at reading people. with younger kids she's definitely showing them affection through maternal gestures, like patting them on the head or squishing their cheeks or picking them up and swinging them around.

for people older than her or who aren't kids and don't really wanna be coddled... when she's in a playful mood she might be more physical. jumping on their backs, getting on their tip toes to try and hug people, lighthearted stuff.

for when the affection comes from a need to comfort, it's subtle. people don't think she can be subtle, but she's better at reading people than one might think. she'll place a hand on a shoulder (if she can reach), she'll just check in on people, ask if they're alright. if they're in a bad/tough spot she'd ask if she can hug them.

SSPEAKING OF HUGS, that's like. universal constant for her. hugging is super important to her, and while i don't think she's touch starved i think she definitely is a person who will hug you for minutes. she just wants to like. Transfer love to you.