and she broke your throne and she cut your hair

[ishguardian]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[estinien]

[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.