ishguardian | and she broke your throne and she cut your hair

and she broke your throne and she cut your hair

[ his mind feels a blur, his ears numb, stuffed with cotton, his body so unfeeling that the pain no longer exists, or else it is compacted somewhere far away where his senses cannot find it. it will be back, he is sure. he has known shock before, and distantly he knows now that this is shock again, a rattling deep in his core that has naught to do with the wounds and bruises and cracked ribs.

the scent of haurchefant's blood seems to linger in his clothing, the acrid scent of aether burned flesh and mail, coppery and sickly sweet, clinging to his hair and skin, suffocating, muffling. and the image of his father turned away, out of reach as he has always been, the spectre that has haunted his life and harried his steps since boyhood. there is movement - the body being lifted, transported, estinien and lucia shuffling nearby, and perhaps he is giving weak orders while he stands still half-crumpled on his feet, or perhaps that it only the noise of his mind pulling itself back together.

but time waits for no man, and haurchefant is quickly hurried away, and aymeric finds himself staring at the dark stain left behind on the smooth, perfect marble. there should be more, he thinks, carelessly. the spear of aether must have cauterized the wound. these quick, morbid thoughts fill his mind and he is repulsed by himself though he can no more press them away than he can to crowd out the insistent, continuous buzzing in his ears. everything has moved so quickly, and now that it is over it feels as if he has been pulled into a vacuum with no sound, no wind. he clutches his arm with his free hand, where the ache is beginning slowly to bloom again, the words turning over in his mind that he cannot bring himself to give voice to.

it is my fault. ]

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[estinien had watched the entire thing unfold with both horror and helplessness, unable to move fast enough once the realization of what was happening sank in. a fraction too late had the dragoon caught movement in the corner of his eye, turning to see the knight commander with aether spear in hand. there wasn't even enough time to shout out and in the blink of an eye it was all over, the fortemps son dying in the warrior of light's arms without preamble or fanfare. everything was going sour and quickly at that.

the sound of aymeric shouting at his father snaps estinien out of his daze, looking up from the corpse to watch the archbishop boarding the airship and leaving. that rat bastard. of all the things that they unearthed in the current goings on, the things regarding the holy see were the worst. war was blatant, war hid nothing in it's onslaught. the holy see were hiding a lot of things, and in that were doing more damage than war ever could and for once estinien wishes things were simple again, uncomplicated from the desires of knights and bishops.

the dragoon turns his attention to aymeric the moment the airship leaves, taking note of the way the other has said very little as the body is taken away. they're still not even sure what exactly had happened during aymeric's interrogations, though needless to say estinien knows they'd be wrong if they assumed no violence. the knights put on a good show but there was no doubt they were brutes on the best of days. lucia is the first one to make a move, almost as if reaching out to put a hand on aymeric before thinking better of it. whatever holdups the blonde has, estinien doesn't care for nor does he even want to know. instead he'll take charge, putting a hand on aymeric's good shoulder and keeping his voice low.]

We need to leave. Now. Standing around in the open here will do us no good.

[ the strong clasp of estinien's mailed hand snaps him from his reverie and aymeric looks up, as if he is blinking away a veil. the words tumble around in his head for a moment before at last they begin to fall together. ]

.. yes.

[ autopilot engaged. there are things to be done, obligations that must be fulfilled, and when it comes down to brass tacks aymeric is a commander, a leader - proper panic reaction is essential, even while his heart feels numb and heavy as a stone in his breast. he nods sharply, turning his eyes at last away from the stain left by lord haurchefant's passing; now it is just another lasting image with all the rest, a loss among so many that did not need to occur. this war is an infection.

aymeric turns, speaking automatically, and his tongue feels thick in his mouth but the words come easily all the same. his ribs ache, and he's ginger as he turns; it takes all of his self control to keep from stumbling. ]

We must see to it that Count de Fortemps is notified immediately. We must needs do all we can to track my father immediately; there is.. there is precious little enough time to waste.

[estinien can't help but feel some relief when aymeric decides they need to move; the idea of being attacked from above is a real threat. dragons were bad enough for that, estinien sure didn't want the holy see to start in on that kind of action. he looks to the others that are hanging back, giving them a small nod on mention of them speaking with Count de Fortemps. the conversation won't be easy but estinien knows that it would be best coming from those who were present at the very least. the latter though... tracking the archbishop down was going to be a problem. they would have more chance of finding a moogle in a snowstorm.

the archbishop wasn't going to be too much of a problem when the warrior of light nods. that particular issue would be looked into. in the meantime there were more immediate things to be looked into; estinien had caught that brief pause from aymeric and heard the other repeat his words. things were not right and in all fairness no-one would be able to blame aymeric for feeling out of sorts. the mere idea that the lord commander considered the archbishop to still be a father, even though the man had been everything but.... well it just makes estinien all the more determined to put a spear through the archibishop and shut the elezen up permanently.

right, immediate things first, vengeance later. estinien casts an eye over aymeric, wondering if the other can walk or if he's just being too stubborn. aymeric's poker face is too good to tell.]

The others will see to it. For now we should get you back so that you can.... [so aymeric could what? estinien isn't even sure where he's going with the comment. the other elezen doesn't look too injured....] ...take stock of things.

[ though he's certain estinien does not mean it in such a way, necessarily, the words are a dart to his pride. there is no time, no time to take stock, to convalesce, to even sit down - what his father plans to do is unholy and horrific, and all measures must be taken to put it to a stop. once already he has been forced to sit on his hands, and though estinien had surely had the right of it it had chafed him sorely. it chafes him worse, now, as it is happening again - and it shows as much in the brief grimace that flashes over his features, the fine crease between his dark brows.

but for all of his harshness, estinien had never lied to him, never voiced an opinion that was not necessarily for his benefit. and aymeric trusts him now, notably so when he knows that he cannot trust himself. ]

I -- [ he very nearly begins to argue. it feels shameful to back down, most especially now - this has become deeply personal. rational or not, aymeric feels personally responsible for everything his father does, has done; if he could lift up ishgard with his own two hands, protect her with the shield of his body, he would offer himself in a heartbeat. that is, after all, what he had expected to come of all this to begin with. in many ways, aymeric had stepped into the vault carrying the knowledge that he very well may never step out of it again.

but the very fact that this is personal is what lets him know that he is wrong. curse his acute self awareness - it would be so much more gratifying to deny estinien, to leave them all behind and cut a path to his father without delay, with his own hands and blade if he must and the fury damn anyone who dared to stand in his way. briefly, his eyes flash toward lucia; concern is writ clearly in her face. almost visibly, aymeric yields. it's so difficult to stand tall, to keep up the mask. never before has it been so hard. ]

.. very well.

[the dragoon can't help but keep an eye on aymeric as they decide on what to do, grateful that the helm he wears masks the direction he's looking in. aymeric would probably not appreciate being watched already but there was just something in the way the lord commander was acting that was starting to concern estinien. it was legitimate concern, the kind that just screamed someone was due to do something very stupid in the immediate future. ishgard was already in trouble, she could not afford to have one of her more prodigious children to vanish.

was aymeric truly going to argue it? was the lord commander really going to stand there and disagree right in the middle of all things? the situation was both dire and heinous; estinien knows that things are urgent right now. there is so much to do and so little time that even his own confidence is starting to take a hit. how could such a small group of people achieve such large scale things? but then he has to remind himself of what they had done, nidhogg was gone and that had been a handful of people. this they would have to see through to the end.

if aymeric could get behind it. right now the other elezen looks like he's ready to only hit the floor and even though the other simply agrees to taking stock estinien knows that there's a lot going on. the lord commander always had something to say. three words was simply not good enough.]

We shall go back to your office near the Forgotten Knight. Regardless of it's proximity to the Bume, I doubt the Ward would be quick to start a fight there for the second time. It would not end well for them with such a large audience which for now remains on our side. [estinien doesn't need to say it, but someone needs to talk in the silence that is starting to prevail. lucia doesn't seem to feel the need to say anything, and estinien is already finding it grating on already frayed nerves. just what was it she even did again?!] The way will already be cleared, some men have gone ahead to make sure no-one will be on our path.

Yes, of course.

[ he's parsing estinien's words, but his answers are automatic, stock replies that fall easily off of his tongue without thought; it's a long developed response made habit by being a leader of men. ]

We must make haste. There is no time.

[ every moment wastes is a moment in his father's favor, a step closer to his goal, to whatever terrible thing he is planning in the name of justice and protection. already a thousand threads of thought are roiling in his mind and he is chasing them relentlessly, his gaze unfocused and distant even as he turns to move past them all, back into the vault again, so they may navigate their way out.

and it is a long trek indeed through the vault and into the pillows and down, down to the forgotten knight again. it is a long trek and with every step the ache comes back to his body, the numbness fading at long last until he can feel every bruise and welt and scrape, his cracked ribs protesting, and his gait is awkward, limping, but he will not accept help. not in this. he has been beaten down in all other ways - failed in his attempt to persuade his father, failed in his attempt to stop his escape, failed in his ability to set hot on his trail immediately -- this, at least, is something that aymeric has control over, however small, however trivial. he will stand on his own two feet, if he has to claw his way back to the brume on hands and knees. already he has leaned too much on others, and though he values his own dignity far less than many, there is only so much shame he can suffer in one blow. ]

[that sounded more like the lord commander, but even then it's still not enough to set estinien's mind at ease. no, this was still going to go sour and in a small way the dragoon knows there is nothing anyone can do to stop it doing so. he just knows the feeling of a parent figure winding up being a betraying asshole, but it barely compared on this kind of scale. he would maybe speak to aymeric about it later.

the trip back to the lodgings was pretty much uneventful, lucia and estinien's contacts having cleared the way well and truly. a single civilian had crossed their paths and been sent scurrying fast enough by the glare and bared teeth they got from estinien. no-one was going to mess with that and no-one dared ask questions. it was perfect. if only everything else could be solved so neatly. there would be no offer of help from estinien on the way back, or words spoken out loud; it's clear to all and sundry that aymeric won't accept help and they don't need to ask to know it.

it feels like an eternity before they get back to the small base of operations that aymeric had been running. there had been a single moment where estinien had been tempted to just scoop aymeric up and make a mad jump dash for the place. that wouldn't have ended well and estinien knows lucia would have simply gone bald from watching that happen.]

Someone shall fetch you a healer to look you over very soon. [estinien gives no fucks as to if aymeric wants that or not, and as he speaks the words the dragoon stares over at lucia. she should go get the healer. there's only the three of them left in the room and right now there is a silent, unspoken war going on between estinien and lucia as to who should be the one to leave. lucia is the one to crack first, huffing in the dragoon's direction before leaving to find a healer. there's a scowl from the woman promising pain later.

finally. now it was just the two of them and estinien folds his arms and glances over at aymeric. should he say anything at all? it's a rare point in estinien's life where he feels unsure of something and that feeling is the worst, he would turn on it and kill it if he could.] Are you holding up?

[ 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. ]

[estinien silently watches long fingers twining through dark hair as the lord commander finally seems to settle off of his feet. it's a small start at the very least and enough to allay the worry that aymeric would simply drive himself into the ground through working. physically things were going to be fine. mentally? estinien doesn't know. the loss of haurchefant was a devastating blow. the elezen had been cocksure and a rambunctious person. estinien knows that the loss will be felt for a long time to come, though personally he will be quick to put that aside for more important things. haurchefant had been a big help, but he had not been around for the majority of things, was not up to speed with the actual goings on that were happening. as cold as it sounded in his own mind, estinien knows that it could have been much worse. they would be able to avenge haurchefant in due course, but estinien suspects that it would not be the most important thing on their plates for a while yet.

even if he does want to strangle the shit out of the archbishop. just looking at the way aymeric is sat has the dragoon's stomach sinking, feelings of sympathy starting to truly sink in. how must it feel to know that the one looked up to the most was the one destroying everything held dear? estinien had been so angry at alberic for causing the ruin of ferndale, but that was something that had happened so far in the past that the impact was not what it could have been. this? this was fresh for aymeric, this was something that was happening right now and all they could do was ride the wave and work on setting right the wrongs.

nothing would take away the pain of it though, nothing would lessen the gaping wound that caused so much hurt. all aymeric would be able to do, if anything, was learn to live with it. the dragoon can't help but wonder if aymeric would manage that when he hears what the other has to say, cringing inwardly at the tremor in the normally firm voice.]

Aymeric. What happened was not your fault but that of the archbishop and the knights. None of us could have even foreseen what happened today, yet it still happened. We did not know how that man would have reacted to what you had to say, nor did we suspect that Zephirin would have been ready and waiting. [estinien pauses, mulling his next words over.] That man is not a father, does not act as one, and you should stop looking at him as one.

[ his head feels heavy in his hands, his entire body a sluggish weight that pulls down, down, down, and aymeric would love nothing more than to retreat, to climb into his bed and trap himself beneath the darkness of the covers to lick his wounds in peace.

estinien is right, he knows, objectively, when it comes to the matter of haurchefant. what the young lord had done had been on his own terms, it was his choice to risk himself in defense of what he believes in, and yet aymeric cannot shake the guilt. he's not certain that he shall ever entirely forgive himself for it, but that is the hard truth of commanding men in a land at war. this is not the first man he has watched give his life for ishgard, nor shall it be the last, but it is perhaps the most personal. ]

I know.

[ the words are breathless as a defeat; part of doing what it is that he does is learning what is necessary to carry around, and what is not, and though the wound is still fresh he knows he cannot afford himself the time to mope about like a maid, lest he abandon ishgard at her time of need. the matter of his father, however.. breaches a topic that is delicate to them both. aymeric knows full well about estinien's past, about how sensitive the subject of family might be to either one of them; this is an argument he's not certain he has the energy to breach. he's worked so long and so hard for his father's approval, that he might somehow achieve something he might find worthwhile, that some connection might be had between he and the man who did not want him, yet was too merciful to see him put down.

he can't argue it. not now. the wound is still too fresh. aymeric at last sits back in his chair with a heavy sigh, one hand slipping to gently finger a spot of soreness at his ribs. his voice is at last beginning to even out, though there is a weariness there now that drags at his words. ]

Azys Lla.. [ he sounds the words as if he is feeling them on his tongue. ] I feel I have heard the words before, though I cannot say where..

Alphinaud is already looking for information on it, along with the lalafell. If there is anything out there on Azys Lla they will find it. I would suspect the lalafell more than Alphinaud to find it first; she can talk a goblin into giving it's treasure over.

[really, tartaru disturbs estinien in the way she so easily extracts information. that's a talk for another time though, right now the dragoon is going to keep his attention on aymeric and make sure the other stays strong. should the lord commander falter, his men would falter and that alone would cause problems. estinien has no doubt that the knights of heavens' ward and the archbishop would be a rocky and drawn out path to be taking for all of them; aymeric was going to need to steel himself for what would come. the best case scenario would be to kill the archbishop and estinien isn't even sure if the other elezen can even come to terms with the idea of patricide. not yet.

estinien tilts his head a little, ear cocked towards the door as if listening for something. there is no creak of floorboards or sounds of any others outside the office and that would do for now. most looked upon estinien as a cold being, someone who was aloof and rarely gave a damn beyond the next dragon. estinien knows what they say and simply ignores it, for anyone with that kind of chocobocrap rattling around their heads were not worth his time. no he wasn't cold, estinien simply knows a moment of weakness was enough to let nidhogg get a hold through the eye. considering the dragon was dead.... well, there's no-one around to see as the dragoon crosses the room to stand next to aymeric, placing a hand lightly on the other's shoulder.]

You don't need that man when you have your own men who look up to you. You have friends and comrades who will follow you to the ends of the world. It is the archbishop who is missing the better things here.

[ he should have known better than to think he could divert the topic; estinien is ravenous as a bloodhound when he's on the scent of something, and there is no budging him when he has decided to dig in his heels.

still, he.. does not entirely expect it when he hears the approaching footsteps, and feels the weight of estinien's mailed hand clasping his shoulder. what they say about him - his coldness, his distance - aymeric knows better, has always known better. beneath his stiffness a fierce heart burns, and aymeric is not unaware of it. he knows the exacting cost of bearing the eye of nidhogg, what toll it demands of its owner, the difficulties involved with the heavy title of azure dragoon. despite what they say, estinien has been nothing less than a good friend and a fiercely loyal comrade, and for that aymeric will always be grateful, but he has learned what to expect of him, and what not to.

there's a moment of tension when his shoulders stiffen, though it is less out of distaste than surprise, and aymeric lifts his head. bewilderment flashes over his expression before it begins to collapse, his brows drawing tightly together, and there is a raw anguish in his eyes that is rare and fleeting and so very unlike what most might have come to expect of the image of himself that aymeric has worked so hard to uphold. at last he lifts a hand, his gloved palm coming to rest over estinien's knuckles, fingers grasping tightly in a show of acceptance, camaraderie, and gratitude. ]

.. thank you, my friend. It is good to know that I have those who would stand by me, even -- even now, when I am less myself than I would like to be. This.. this shall pass.

[estinien isn't sure what to expect from aymeric with the hand on his shoulder, quietly stunned when he feels the other's hand over his and giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. sometimes aymeric surprised even him and right now it's taking everything within the dragoon not to just stand there and stare in mute shock. the look in aymeric's eyes is almost despair, enough so that estinien can feel it like a cold dagger twisting in his stomach. what pain was the other suffering to drag such a look from the lord commander? what thoughts were taking root right now that would do nothing but torment from a distance in the quiet of the night?

whatever it was, estinien never wants to see it again, helpless in the knowledge that it isn't something that he can defeat in battle yet wishing bloody vengeance on it anyway.

estinien quickly realizes that he's allowed his own thoughts to wander, that he's been staring at aymeric in silence for a good, solid few moments. the realization is swift enough to have the dragoon straightening back up, looking away with thinning lips as he bites some terse words out with only half of the usual vehemence.]

You should act more like yourself and not what other people expect you to be. Tsk, as long as you think it will pass.

[ estinien's reaction is almost amusing, had aymeric had the heart to be able to feel it at the moment, but still a certain bemused fondness warms his core. for all of his faults, estinien is a good man, and aymeric will not forget this favor, however small it might seem. the weakest of smiles is hinted at the corners of his eyes, and it does little enough to chase away the shadows consuming his heart, but it is, at least, something.

once estinien has drawn away aymeric drops his hand with a low, slow sigh, settling against the tall chair with his head resting back and his eyelids low. one conversation is not enough to knit the gaping wound of haurchefant's loss, or fill the hole left behind by the betrayal of his own blood and sire, but he is, at least, more whole than he had been, at ease enough to begin to peel away the veil that clings to his eyes and heart. ]

You know full well that things shall always be expected of men like us.

[ his voice is weary, but gentler, and there is little enough room for argument. when one becomes a soldier, a representative of his people, he must give up something of himself to the cause. aymeric knows full well that he must divide himself into two people if he is to succeed in this role, if he is to give all he has in ishgard's defense. to usher in reform is no small or simple matter, and he shall need to become exactly what is expected of him if he is to realize his dream. but it is a sacrifice he is willing to make, and he does not plan to burn away the man beneath the mantle in order to do it. still, it makes the burden no less heavy, but with extra hands to help him carry it, he is at ease. ]

.. but I will be fine. Most especially after a good long rest, I think.

[ and some patching up. and a nice hot bath. these all sound excellent. ]

[there's visible relief in the pull of estinien's lips as he notices some shadows starting to fade away from the lord commander's eyes. there is still the idea that aymeric may be tempted to do something stupid but then estinien has to wonder if he's simply projecting himself into that. he understands the pain of a parent turning out to be a back-stabbing worthless excuse, though the scales of their scenarios are both vastly different the pain is still the same. the question of "why" will be ringing in aymeric's ears for a long time to come and for now all estinien can do is nod at the comment about things being expected. everyone has a role to play and aymeric is not exempt from that no matter how much they wished it.

the dragoon huffs, showing both his agreement with the comment and how he actually feels about it.]

We shall have to make sure no-one interrupts your recuperation. Between Lucia and myself I believe we're sufficient to scare even the most stalwart of people away.

[if he was a mindreader estinien would most likely agree with the hot bath thought. everyone needed that after a shit time, and almost as if thinking about things that would make him feel better.....] What order do you want us to deal with those Knights in? There are twelve and killing them all in one go would not be satisfying enough.

[it's a lame attempt at humor, though with a helmet covering his face most would find it hard to discern the humor from the truth.]

[ doing something stupid has certainly crossed his mind without a doubt, but thankfully aymeric is not particularly prone to following up with such inclinations -- his near martyring sacrifice at the vault notwithstanding. his self-control is maddeningly restrictive sometimes, but he supposes at least, it has helped him to get where he is today.

with estinien's huff, however, a haze seems to lift from the room, and there is a lightness in the air that was not there before, however faint. he aches still, body and soul, but the fit of despair seems to have passed - or at the very least, leveled out into something controllable. a rueful smile touches the corners of his mouth, though it does not quite reach his eyes, and aymeric sighs as he sits back in his chair. ]

.. ah, if wishes were chocobos, I suppose.

[ if only torture for the fun of it were something aymeric could get behind. alas. ]

If wishes were chocobos? There's enough of those feathered fiends in the forelands for everyone.

[it's obvious estinien isn't a fan of chocobos. for whatever reason it's as if dragoon and bird simply cannot co-exist within a few meters of each other and generally ends in a great big bird-kick to someone's side. normally estinien's. and those breaks are sharper than they look too, and the claws.....

no, people could keep their wishes, they were foolish anyway. estinien would probably rethink that stance one day, wishing he had never set his sights upon the eyes of nidhogg.]

If there's anything you need.... [estinien trails off, not even sure how he means to finish that sentence. there's not much he can offer in his opinion, simply a shoulder. and there are more comfortable shoulders than his own.] I'll be outside making sure no-one disturbs you for now.

[ aymeric lifts his eyes from his desk again, and they are hooded and distant still, but his body language is smoothed over and softened, and there is obvious appreciation in his expression, and his voice. ]

.. thank you.

[ because he knows what it means, the true weight of estinien's words, and for all of their playful bickering, and estinien's forced distance, aymeric understands him well, and he knows what it means to be given such words, however brief. there is no doubt in his mind or heart that this man, for all his belligerance and combativeness, is loyal and true to his core. aymeric trusts him, and he is more grateful for this than words can express, though he does what he can to write it into his smile, however weary it might still seem. there are few enough men, these days, that he feels he may entirely rely upon. ]

I'll be glad of the privacy.

Hmph. You'll be sure to get some.

[aymeric gets another glance over as estinien tries to accept that thanks and smile. a part of him wants to linger, hover around the lord commander and just simply keep watch yet estinien knows it'd be counterproductive. not only would aymeric get nothing done but he'd also start getting annoyed at someone constantly being right there. that and estinien suspects lucia will want to do just that. further down the line there will be a few furious and heated arguments in the room outside as estinien makes sure that even aymeric's right hand doesn't disturb his friend.

for now though estinien simply nods and goes to stand outside aymeric's door. there will more than likely be complaints much later from nobles who have born the brunt of estinien's temperament but at least it means that no-one will be bothering aymeric for a good few hours. that is, of course, until the first round of estinien versus lucia kicks off.]

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and she broke your throne and she cut your hair

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