[ his body aches badly by the time they reach the knights' headquarters, and aymeric is equal parts annoyed by and grateful for the feel of it. it is a distraction from important things, problems he should be sorting and solving, and that is both frustrating and relieving all at once. for all he knows he must, it is a welcome reprieve to focus on something simple, something easy, and the soreness and smarting is an easy enough focal point.
suffice it to say, by the time they reach his closed office he is all but dead on his feet, and the way he folds into his chair like a collapsed house of cards bespeaks of more than mere physical trauma - he is exhausted in all ways, shame and betrayal and fury and sorrow all warring for govern of his heart, twisting like snakes in his belly. it's a level of vulnerability he would never have wished for anyone to see. but these two -- estinien, and lucia -- he trusts them fully and entirely, and truth be told it is like as not that they are the only two who shall ever lay eyes upon a sight like this. aymeric prides himself on his self control, but if it must begin to fray, best that it is beside the those he trusts and values most highly.
still, it is all he can do to keep his hands from shaking as he rests his elbows on his desk and promptly presses his face into his palms, long fingers grasping loosely in his dark, tousled hair. he hears receding footsteps, and the sound of the door opening, and shutting again crisply, and a brief silence soon broken by the rough, familiar sound of estinien's voice. the answer is, as all the rest, scripted, automatic. ]
I am --
[ -- fine. but he halts, unable to finish. what need is there to keep face, when they are alone? there's a stammer in his voice, before he exhales in a long, slow, rattling sigh, as if he has been holding his breath. his words are tremulous. ]
.. I do not know. I hardly know where to begin. I was so.. so certain I would be able to persuade him, to bring him to see reason. I was wrong. It is due to my error that house Fortemps has lost a son, and we a staunch and steadfast ally and friend. And my father..
[ the humiliation of his failure, and this subsequent weakness, tastes bitter as bile in the back of his throat and aymeric grimaces, closing his eyes against his palms. ]
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Date: 2015-07-08 08:31 am (UTC)suffice it to say, by the time they reach his closed office he is all but dead on his feet, and the way he folds into his chair like a collapsed house of cards bespeaks of more than mere physical trauma - he is exhausted in all ways, shame and betrayal and fury and sorrow all warring for govern of his heart, twisting like snakes in his belly. it's a level of vulnerability he would never have wished for anyone to see. but these two -- estinien, and lucia -- he trusts them fully and entirely, and truth be told it is like as not that they are the only two who shall ever lay eyes upon a sight like this. aymeric prides himself on his self control, but if it must begin to fray, best that it is beside the those he trusts and values most highly.
still, it is all he can do to keep his hands from shaking as he rests his elbows on his desk and promptly presses his face into his palms, long fingers grasping loosely in his dark, tousled hair. he hears receding footsteps, and the sound of the door opening, and shutting again crisply, and a brief silence soon broken by the rough, familiar sound of estinien's voice. the answer is, as all the rest, scripted, automatic. ]
I am --
[ -- fine. but he halts, unable to finish. what need is there to keep face, when they are alone? there's a stammer in his voice, before he exhales in a long, slow, rattling sigh, as if he has been holding his breath. his words are tremulous. ]
.. I do not know. I hardly know where to begin. I was so.. so certain I would be able to persuade him, to bring him to see reason. I was wrong. It is due to my error that house Fortemps has lost a son, and we a staunch and steadfast ally and friend. And my father..
[ the humiliation of his failure, and this subsequent weakness, tastes bitter as bile in the back of his throat and aymeric grimaces, closing his eyes against his palms. ]