(no subject)

[mostheavenly]

It's not that he ever thought that plotting Ishgard's future was going to be easy or that he thought his work would ever be done or even that he thought the end of the Dragonsong War was going to mean the end to his troubles. Far from it. Peace was always more difficult and exacting than war, and this has been no different. Nevertheless, he's really always seen himself as more soldier than politician and he's aware he's more used to the politics of war than the politics of peace on top of that. Still... Ishgard has need of one and not the other, and he has always gone where Halone has guided him.

So. It's been a bit of a day. Meetings with the rest of the elected officials all day and now his stack of neglected paperwork tonight. He's aware that he could stop. There's nothing on his desk that couldn't wait for tomorrow. But there would just be new things tomorrow as well, piling up in a snowdrift on his desk, and he has nothing in particular waiting for him at home to capture his attention this evening, so better to plow through it now before exhaustion sets in.

The knock on the door of his public office is a welcome distraction,

"Come in," he calls out, not looking up right away from the document he's finishing signing.

Comments

[heart_of_the_wood]

The door was pushed open enough for dark laquered claws to hook around it, nudging it open silently as the magus stepped inside, a tray laden with two steaming mugs of spiced cocoa laden with marshmallows balanced on her other hand. When she saw him still bent over papers, her ears flicked back, tail lashing as she let out a sigh.

"When I heard that the Lord Commander worked tirelessly to restore the city since my departure, I had hoped 'twas little more than exaggeration." Though her words are thick with her accent, her fangs gleamed in the light of the candles when she smiled, purring as she teased him. "I would ask if you missed me, but I see they have kept you busy overlong. The bell for the final meal tolled some time ago, my friend. Please tell me you've at least eaten?"

Crossing the room with silent steps, she had always taken great care to muffle her passage, lifting one mug from the tray, she raised it in mock salute as she waited for him to set aside his quill before she laid it on a bare spot on his desk. A scholar of any sort never let her papers come under threat, after all.

"I brought you something, as a sort of celebration of my return from the far east, should you be willing to cast aside your duties for a moment?" Her smile was as mischievous as it was understanding, though her eyes seemed to capture all the light in the room, peeking at him through her hair.

[mostheavenly]

He looks up in a way that's mostly distracted when she first enters the room, expecting someone come to see him on business, but he's delighted to see that is not and even moreso to see that it's her. He just has to stare for a moment, as though making sure she is not some kind mirage, brought to life by aching eyes and fervent hopes.

He feels a bit struck dumb when he realizes she is real. Here. It renders him a bit unhelpful with setting aside his own papers, a bit slow on his greeting and he fumbles the quill just slightly in his haste to set it down.

"I have eaten," he answers automatically, though he has to add, "... at some point. Is it truly that late?" he stretches just slightly, feels something in his back pop, and wraps his fingers almost automatically around the hot mug as she sets it down. His brain finally manages to catch up to the reality of her being here and his expression softens,

"There is little in my current duties that could not wait for you, my friend, much less some paperwork. Please, have a seat. I fear now only that if I let myself start asking questions about your journeys, I will not stop." He rarely ever favors even Mykha with a full smile, but his eyes sparkle just a little bit in that way she often sees from him.

[heart_of_the_wood]

"Aymeric..." She sighs, though her despairing sigh is not without fondness. At least she was used to this, Alphinaud had also been prone to losing track of time when he was nose-deep in matters. Shaking her head, her ears flatten against her scalp before they flick upward again. "I suppose that is fair enough, though it does mean I'll be fetching you something to eat. You must remember to take care of yourself, after all. One cannot expect to be able to stay on top of these beasts without the energy and presence of mind to do so." She waves at the mountains of paperwork, wishing she could help him somehow, but she has been gone for far too long to be of any assistance.

Instead, she rests her hand upon her hip, leaning against the edge of his desk to watch him through her lashes, tail curling and flitting from side to side as she basks in the faint ghost of a smile and the warmth of his gaze. It was not the smile of unbridled joy that had originally warmed her to Ishgard, but the quiet pleasure of someone who always had to guard himself from politics. It was still enough to chase the Coerthan chill from her was her heart warmed at the sight. She had missed his smile in her absence.

"Well, you are in luck, for it is those very journeys that brought me back to darken your doorstep." Her chuckle is soft, waving a hand as she toys with the second cup. Normally she would happily curl up in the offered seat, yet today she brought more than just a warm drink and her company.

"Have you heard word of what has happened in Ivalice? Or of the new allies we made there in addition to the Domans?" She regarded him carefully as she lifted her cup to her lips, savoring the warmth as well as the flavour.

[mostheavenly]

He can't help but smile a bit more at the first, though he shakes his head,

"I need not slay any more beasts this evening nor would I have you trouble yourself on my account," he holds up a hand, because he knows she's going to protest. Everyone around him has always looked after his health far better than he ever has, he knows. "If anything, allow me to be the one to treat you for a change. It will hardly be a formal dinner this late and on such short notice, but let House Borel shoulder the burden of feeding you for a change and I'll gladly eat as much as you wish." It's formal, always formal, but there's a subtle warmth to him and such an invitation is... maybe actually a little bit scandalous, if she thinks overlong about it. Certainly inviting any typical young woman back to his house this late in the evening would be suspect. Perhaps since they both are who they are, the rules do not apply to them.

Perhaps, for once, he simply doesn't care.

He takes a sip of the chocolate, cautious of the temperature and blinks in surprise at the spice, takes another sip on the heels of the first, pleased, and turns his attentions to the present,

"I... seem to recall some small details, though Ala Mhigo has occupied more of my thoughts of late than Doma," he can't help but curve his lips just slightly, a bit helplessly, "It still seems strange to me, to need consider other countries at all, even though I have spent the better part of my life fighting for it."

[heart_of_the_wood]

That draws a chuckle out of her, her ears twitching with her delight as she purrs happily into her mug.

"I should like that very much, as long as we are not interrupted mid-meal this time. It is not often I get to enjoy a meal with a close companion after all, and I sorely missed your company." It could not hurt to give voice to it, after all the struggles in Ala Mhigo and the far east, she had grown bone weary and needed rest, yet trouble had never waited for her. There were so few times she could simply find a moment to herself anymore, and it was one of the reasons she had set her sights for Ishgard once her most recent battles had been won. She needed rest, and by the Twelve she was going to have it. Even if one of the reasons for her visit gave her a strange fluttering sensation in her chest, and she was forced to admit it was nerves. Beasts and false gods she'd felled without a sweat, yet it was the truth that would bring her to toying with her mug and clothes like a bashful maiden admitting to wrongdoing.

"Fair enough, I do not fault you for it, you've enough on your plate as it is. I had simply wondered, as one of those new alliances has brought new adventurers in its wake." Her gaze fell to her mug, then she looked to him, her head cocked. "What do you know of the viera, my friend? I should think they are but ghosts and legends in these lands, if spoken of at all." An odd question, to be sure, but there was an intensity about the way she watched him now, though she tried to keep herself relaxed. Yet hooded as her gaze was, she stared, and her tail flicked with an agitation that she'd never once been able to master. It was always her tail that gave her away when her emotions ran high like the fire she commanded.

[mostheavenly]

"Not much," he takes a sip of his chocolate, considers, "and most of that only recently. Anything I know seems like it would be more suited to a book of fairy tales than a history lesson, certainly. And yet I do know that it seems they were real." He can see that she is nervous, but there is nothing he can see to be a reason for it. He examines her for a long moment,

"You do not seem as though you are a neutral party to whatever news you have for me," he points out, curious, but gentle, "Did something happen? If these new adventurers represent some kind of threat, surely it would be better to gather the other leaders and speak not only to me."

[heart_of_the_wood]

Her nose wrinkled slightly at the thought of her sisters being threats, lowering her mug with a swift shake of her head.

"Nay, not a threat. They are stalwart defenders of their lands, and their loyalty to their kin has been what has kept them in their wood and mountain homes, fiercely defending them from outlanders who would do them harm. It is not their skills nor their intentions that I question, but rather I have realized that my eldest of secrets now should no longer be a secret." She takes another sip of her cocoa, then cradles the mug in her hands, soaking up the warmth of the ceramic as she steadied herself.

"'Twas something of a lie when I said I hailed from the Twelveswood, though I said it to protect my companions. Long have I traveled in these lands, since before the Calamity. Yet I knew, in a place where my presence could bring misfortune to my compatriots should I be easily discovered by our enemies, I chose to hide in plain sight. Please know I had no ill will in my deceptions, but rather I had nothing but all your safety in mind when I lied and hid myself among a people so common no one would bat an eye should they pass among a crowd." Taking a deep breath, she set her cup aside, pushing off of his desk and smoothing out her coat.

"I would cast a small magick, to undo one I cast long ago, if it would not trouble you. I have found myself in want of someone to confide in since I left Ivalice, and I would rather it be someone I dearly trusted. The Scions are in need of aid now more than ever, and I would not allow my past actions to create a divide amongst our allies. Would you allow me this?" She cocks her head as she watches him, her tail curling nervously behind her, the tip flicking as she waited.

[mostheavenly]

Aymeric is quick to pick up on the thing she's not quite saying, used to a politician's way of speaking around what one wishes to say, having to read word choice and inflection at a moment's notice. But the very idea is so preposterous that even so, he doesn't think to believe it, not fully. Still, she can read at least somewhat on his face that he at least suspects the truth, a slight widening of his eyes.

And, too, he picks up on a second revelation in her words, perhaps unintended. She could have chosen anyone in the world to tell about this, and she is here, with him. Dearly trusted, she says, and he would sooner spend another night in the Vault than let such a trust be misplaced. He takes a longer drink of the chocolate, as though it were something stronger, to steel his nerves, but also in a show of trust, care. He does not answer out of hand and he doesn't think to refuse what she's brought him, even when she is admitting to lying to him.

"I would allow much more of you," he says, evenly, means it, though perhaps not in a way she is aware of, "To be your confidant is an honor, not something to be counted as a trouble," he nods, "Please."

[heart_of_the_wood]

"You have my thanks, Aymeric." She smiles, her ears twitching. Admitting to her charade had been most of her worries, as she had not been certain if she should. Yet after what happened in Ivalice, she had found her heart aching for home. And if she could not return to one, she would take solace in her second home.

Closing her eyes, she stilled herself, pushing down the nervous flutters still beating within her breast, and focusing on the currents of aether in the air around her. Unraveling her disguise would take hardly any time at all, compared to the work that had gone into creating it. With a word, the aether circle lit the ground around her and enveloped her in light, unmaking the form she'd woven around herself and falling away as easily as a flower opening to sunlight after a harsh winter.

She could feel the magicks dissipating into the air, rolling her shoulders as she tossed her head, and feeling the way her hair fell back into place. Over a full fulm taller than her Moon Keeper form, Mykha's tufted ears folded back for a moment, the delicate beaded chains that hung from them catching the light as she cocked her head, meeting Aymeric's gaze with a quiet anticipation. The green of her tattoos was still the same as the face paint she'd worn, though where her hair had been streaked with cream, it now was tipped with gold, a similar color as the freckles that dusted her dark cheeks. Her boots were revealed to be high heeled to support her ankles, and the toes had wicked metal claws that she took care not to catch on the carpet or stone floor.

"My homeland is of Ivalice, my village lies within the heart of Golmore Jungle. Illusion and deception are how my sisters and I long kept our land hidden from the outside. Though I am no longer welcome there. My choice to follow Hydaelyn's call and leave my Wood has marked me an outlander, and I cannot return. So I returned home as soon as I could, please forgive me my long absence." Bowing her head to him, she lifted her cup from his desk in salute before finally taking the seat he'd offered her, taking great care to fold herself into the chair that no longer dwarfed her frame. Only then does she disguise the nervous wriggling of her nose by drinking, hiding behind the cup as she awaits his judgement. If there was one thing that had not changed about her, it was the color of her eyes; brown and green like the forests she'd lived in and loved with all her heart.

[mostheavenly]

This is a great deal to take in all at once and even a statesman like Aymeric is silent for perhaps a beat too long in shock. Even though he had suspected this from her earlier words, it is still monumental and also quite another to see proof. But he is a statesman, and he is almost speaking automatically, to not leave silence hang in the air,

"Though Ishgard is a long way from a jungle, you have nonetheless secured yourself a place here, always. Welcome home, Mykha. Full glad am I to see you," if that's maybe warmer than he intended it to be, well, shock does things to people, right? Still, he is absolutely sincere in that, glad that she is here and that she has chosen him of all people, to reveal this to first.

And then, because statesman or not, he is still a man and subject to the curiosities of one, he studies her a bit more,

"Your hair is the same," mostly, but she will know what he means, "and your eyes... I think you may be taller that me now, though." She likely isn't quite, but it's clearly mean to be something of a joke, "It will take some getting used to."

[heart_of_the_wood]

"It is good to be home." Her eyes narrowed to happy slits as the words rumbled out of her. It was a sound not unlike her full-throated purrs, a more subtle sign of her contentment. Odd to finally be within her own skin and not have to play act every waking moment, she delicately crossed her legs at the ankle, managing not to catch the sharp armored plates on one another. The scrutiny she had expected, though her cheeks still warmed a little at being the sole focus of his undivided attention.

The tension in her frame bleeds away at his words, her ears falling back to a more relaxed angle and the twitch leaving her nose, a low chuckle escaping her.

"I should think not, my friend. 'Tis simply the length of my ears that fools the eye. Though I am quite charmed that you should think so, perhaps it is simply my reputation that makes my shadow seem so vast." Her grin was playful and lopsided as one long ear flicked, the jeweled chains catching the light. "Mayhaps I shall simply have to darken your doorstep more often until you grow sick of the sight of me." If she had still had fangs, they would have gleamed with how hard she smiled, masking it with a drink of her cocoa. It seemed her penchant for playful teasing still stayed strong even without her mask.

[mostheavenly]

He catches himself looking at her nose when she twitches it. It looks lightly furred, maybe, and he imagines reaching his hand out to find out the truth of that until it catches up with him how intimate such a thing would be beyond his innocent curiosity, and buries the flush in another deep sip of the hot chocolate.

"Your shadow was plenty vast before," he points out, "so I'm more inclined to blame the ears," he takes a more casual sip of the chocolate. It is still strange to look at her, but the more they talk, the more he is very quickly adjusting (though she will still likely startle him with her appearance for some time, if she catches him unawares) "It would delight me to see you try," he returns, with just the smallest hint of a smile.

It's always hard to see where her teasing lands and doesn't. On another man, she might say that was flirtatious, but Aymeric is hard to read and his tone is often both so formal and so thoughtlessly warm with all his friends, both that picking apart his intentions has always proven impossible.

[heart_of_the_wood]

Her laughter is deeper now than it had been, though the joy that shines in her face is as bright as ever. Reaching up, she grooms the tufts of fur at the base of her ear before running her hand up the length of it. Mykha had never been one for vanity, though she did pride herself on the sleekness of her ears, toying with one of the many hoops that pierced it.

"At least they are quite lovely, perhaps I might even let you touch them one day." She preened, a hint of mischief tugging at the corners of her lips. "Why, my dear Lord Commander, is that a challenge I hear? Do not tempt me, for I might take you up on it and then poor Handeloup will surely grow tired of me attempting to beat down your door at all bells of the day. They might toss me out simply to make certain you at least get some work done without my presence causing undue distraction." While she rolled her eyes at the last, her voice was warm with the hint of laughter.

While he may not have been as forward or open with his teasing as Haurchefant had been, Mykha certainly held little back when she spoke. While she afforded all her companions with the warmth of her affection, there were fewer who saw the playful side of her that adored wordplay, and fewer still that she used it so pointedly. Not that she ever expected much to come of it, but her delight was present in her gaze and smile, even if she no longer had a tail to give all her hidden thoughts away.

[mostheavenly]

For some reason that actually gets a slight but visible blush out of him, though he hides that behind the chocolate mug almost immediately. (Elezen ears are sensitive, it's why a number of them favor cuffs over piercings and surely she didn't mean anything by it, but just the thought of someone casually touching someone else's ears has his cheeks pinking)

It is not at all helped by the way she says Lord Commander and what is wrong with him, tonight? It's not that he hasn't been attracted to her, previously, but it's an attraction grown out of her personality, her wit, her skill on the battlefield. He's not utterly immune to a pretty face or a bit of skin, but he's also wholly able to disregard that entirely when necessary. So it isn't really that he suddenly finds her more attractive, like this, so much as there's something utterly disarming about her looking so different. It's like meeting a beautiful stranger and a comfortable old friend all at once and he's finding himself flustering far more easily than he's used to.

In either form, she could undoubtedly find a lover in any corner of Eorzea. That she is here means she wants a friend, all of her teasing aside, and he'd be a poor one to let something happen to that trust.

"You know I would hardly count myself beleaguered by your presence if you chose to stay more frequently in Foundation. But perhaps you might think of poor Handeloup's feelings, if nothing else. There is enough stress to go around as it is," he can't help but let the smile grow fractionally larger as they banter. He's missed getting to do so without having to worry about what political matter is at stake.

[heart_of_the_wood]

Oh ho! Was that a flush staining dear Aymeric's sculpted cheeks? An air of smugness settled about her at the sight of the normally unflappable commander gone pink in the face. It was a look that suited him, and she made a mental note to see if she could tease it out more frequently in future days. There was just something about him maintaining such a calm presence when the blush crept across his cheeks that made her feel far more accomplished than even felling a primal.

Perhaps it was because it was a very personal sense of satisfaction rather than a hard won battle. One that she could keep to herself, committing the sight to memory over her cup that she might fondly recall it later. Stroking the rim of her mug with a claw, she let out a throaty hum, letting her head fall back as she considered the high ceiling.

"Mayhaps I shall simply have to make it up to him. His daughter's nameday is soon, is it not? I have not let any of my skill with a needle go to waste, and I should think a fanciful toy or coat for the young one would not be remiss." It was not quite bribery, no. She would never admit to stooping to bribing any of the Temple Knights to have them turn a blind eye to the way she skulked about. Not that she skulked to begin with, of course.

[mostheavenly]

"I am certain both he and his daughter would be thankful. Truthfully, I cannot think of anyone in Ishgard who would not thrill to the thought of a present from the Warrior of Light, much less one made from her own hands." Once she's no longer actively teasing him, it's easier for him to fall into more comfortable routines. It's always so nice to just talk to someone, after a day of having to fight for everything, measure every word. He cannot wholly stop doing so, not anymore, but it's good to know he doesn't have to, all the same.

"Will you tell the others?" he asks, always a bit more impulsive in private than in public, "Or am I to be a keeper of your secrets for a while yet?"

[heart_of_the_wood]

"Truly that seems to be heaping far too much expectation upon me, yet I shall endeavor to do my best. After all, I found some creatures in the far east that were quite charming, I should like to try my hand at recreating them." Caught up in thoughts of what would best weather the Coerthan cold, it took her a moment before she let out a soft hum, her brows arching.

Only for her gaze to fall once more.

"I entrust you with my secrets for now, my friend. Trouble has beset the Scions and I cannot bring myself to add this development upon them. I do not wish to burden you with my woes, yet I have no one to confide in." She took a deep breath, rubbing her brow as her ears pinned back against her scalp. "My heart is troubled, and I do not know who to turn to. A strange sickness spreads amongst them, leaving them as dead. True, they merely sleep, but I do not know what will become of them. Krile has lent us her aid for the moment, and the best healers in the Alliance as well, yet I cannot help but worry if it will take more of them before long."

True she had her suspicions of the origins of the illness, but she could not be certain, and did not wish to cause undue alarm.

[mostheavenly]

"If your woes be a burden, it is one I accept gladly and with joy. Your compatriots were mine as well, for a time, and heroes of all of Eorzea besides. You know I will do everything in my power to assist all of you, whatever the need," he speaks when she pauses, but falls silent in shock when she continues. It is rare to see him express open shock and dismay at something, but he does now,

"How many have fallen ill? Is there any aid we might provide? Do you know what is causing it?" It's fairly clear what they answers to the last two are and that there is nothing he can do, but he has to ask, at least.

[heart_of_the_wood]

"Thank you, Aymeric. Truly. I know I come bearing far too many revelations at once, yet as always your words bring comfort."

"Thancred, Y'shtola, Urianger, and most recently Alphinaud. Alisae was beside herself when her brother was returned to us after a battle." From the look on her face, Mykha blames herself for their current conditions. Always she had treated the twins with great care as if they were her own kin, and the loss of her oldest companions as well had been a blow to her heart she had not been prepared for.

"As for aid I cannot be certain, Krile works tirelessly to find a cure, but I know not what she might need. My lack of skill in healing arts continues to be a knife between my ribs even to this day. I can only watch and wait for word from the Rising Stones." A bitter unhappiness twisted her mouth, and she shook her head. Not once when she had begun her journey had she regretted her inability to master healing magicks, save for the day at the Vault. Since then it had haunted her, and she had poured days of effort into trying, yet the art had always slipped through her fingers. Her magicks ran too dark, and she could not summon the aethers needed to bolster her comrades more than offer them protection even when she took up sword and shield after that dark day. Always, it felt as if she were little more than a weapon; a knife in the dark, a sledgehammer to strike where needed and nothing more. Why she could not protect those she loved when it mattered most, she could not say, but it was a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Their losses were preceded by a strange voice in our minds, and it felt as if something threatened to tear my very heart loose from my chest. I cannot explain it, and I fear the worst that it may be another Ascian attack, yet I have no evidence and those I would seek counsel from..." She shook her head, her eyes screwed shut. Urianger and Y'shtola were the first she would have asked, but they had fallen before anything could be discovered.

"I do not know what to do, only that I must carry on until Krile finds a cure." Her words were soft, almost a whisper, as she stared into the depths of her mug.

[mostheavenly]

He is silent as she speaks, heart clenched at the anguish he can feel from her and suddenly, the space between their two chairs seems impossibly and unfathomably vast. It is a strange thing, to realize that there is an obvious, human, essential reaction to hearing all of this, and yet it is not one he feels he can offer or knows how to navigate. How isolated they both are, how heavy the weight of years and habits and necessity. How smothering it feels to realize he has no idea what the right things are to say or do to bridge that gap.

Still, they are seated close enough for this: to reach out his hand and lay it over hers on her mug. It still feels too much, invasive, for a man who touches almost no one, but he cannot stand another moment of seeing her nearly half again as tall, it seems, and still looking as small as he's ever seen her in his chair. In his office. She came here.

"Such matters are beyond me," he admits, quietly, "I know little and less of magic, beyond what might be some small use on the battlefield. But I..." for once, words fail him, not because he doesn't know the words, so much as that he doesn't even know what he's trying to put into them. Years of watching soldiers under his command fall on battlefields. Skirmish after bloody skirmish where he's sent people he cares about off away from him, to a place where he cannot protect them, and simply has to trust that they will find their way back to his side. Days and nights spent in the infirmary, watching life slip away from good men, knowing he cannot stay at their side, because there is yet a war to be fought, won, and he will save more lives on the battlefield than standing vigil over a still-breathing body destined for the ground. He can bear it, he has borne it, will continue to do so, but seeing it reflected in her...?

He cannot stand it a moment longer.

"Please, I beg of you. Let me offer what meager comfort I can while you are here. I understand that you often must do what you do alone, that you are the only one who can. But you need not stand alone, nor suffer to walk all paths that way."

[heart_of_the_wood]

The warmth of his touch is a welcome one, and she covers his hand with her other, her fingers calloused from multiple lifetimes of training with weapons and decades of crafting. Without a thought her thumb strokes his knuckles, the dark lacquer of her long claws carefully matched to her outfit as always, the black gleaming a deep red when it catches the light just so. A small thing that she had joked once that a true artisan must always think of the finest details, though in truth it had always been to keep her claws strong even when the tips grew blunt from battle and hard labor. Claws that she always took the greatest care not to catch on her companions, her touches keeping the tips well away from skin and cloth. Always as if a part of her had worried she might break those around her should she not treat them with kid gloves.

"Thank you, Aymeric." There is a weight to those words that mere words can not fully express, or at least not in the languages of Eorzea. Perhaps in her own she might have been able to fully explain herself, what his offer means, how she had felt a growing weight of loneliness and despair weaving through cracks she had not known were in the armor of her heart. How she had always needed to be a beacon of hope and a bastion of strength to those around her to rally armies and nations under one united front and fight enemies that seemed beyond them all, cutting them down to size and hopefully bringing peace where there had been none.

How it weighed on her at night when she feared she could not voice how tired she was becoming after so long. There were always greater dangers, greater threats, enemies hidden in shadows whose names and faces she still did not know, but who she must guard others against without fail. Mykha did so willingly, without doubt in her heart that to protect them was why she had given up her name and home and everything she had once been, yet it was when she lifted her head to meet his gaze, felt the earnestness in his words, that the fears of her heart were soothed. So she smiled, a soft sound, not unlike her purrs of before though it was distinctly different from the chest-deep rumble she had made in her disguise as she let herself relax fully.

"As always, you seem to find the very thing to say to put my heart most at ease." The words were soft with something not unlike wonder, her smile faint yet no less sincere for it. "I had not realized how much I needed to hear it said. I have grown too accustomed to walking these paths seemingly alone, suppose I had forgotten how to ask for help." Asking for aid in battle was one thing, but for this? For matters of the heart and mind? It seemed she had long forgotten how to go to others though she always offered them the very comfort she unintentionally denied herself. Had she not been so grateful she could have laughed at herself.

[mostheavenly]

He has to fight himself to not react when she lays her hand over his, though he's unsure whether he's fighting to not jerk his hand away, so unused to touch that he has to fight hiding from it, or fighting against tangling his fingers further with hers, stroking back against her hand. Either way, he holds himself still, though it may be noticeably so.

"Full glad am I to hear it. You know that I would do anything at all to assist you in your endeavors," it's formal, but his tone is warm. He considers everything for a moment, and then lets his lips curve just slightly, "Perhaps it would be best to see about that dinner, first. I think there should be an extra cloak if you didn't wish to be seen but were more comfortable like this," he withdraws his hand, finally, brings the conversation back somewhere where he is a bit more at ease for the moment, enough so to even joke,

"After all, if there are going to be rumors about a woman staying the evening at my house, I think it's a better tale if she were mysterious, don't you?"

He's masterful enough to not make it feel like he's making light of the things she's said, or like the conversation is over. It's simply a better one had in complete privacy, with the rest of the world put away and perhaps with an open bottle of wine and a fireplace.

[heart_of_the_wood]

Her ears flick as she senses the tension in him, twitching back as she lets her hand fall away. While she might crave the closeness, she would not let herself make others uncomfortable for her own benefit. The warmth of his hand touching hers is enough she tells herself, she need not grow greedy at Aymeric's expense.

"Truly, I could not ask for a more stalwart companion outside the Scions. As always, you have my thanks and my gratitude." While she bows her head to him, an ear flicks at the mention of dinner and stealing away through the city in a borrowed cloak. It had a playful sort of simplicity to it, and one that reminded her of the half-gil novels she'd grown to secretly adore. The sort with dashing heroes in disguise, mystery and intrigue. A lovely distraction from the tense political tangles she always seemed to find herself dragged into when she had no head for politics before she'd taken up the mantle of Warrior of Light.

"Ah, that is a clever plan, and I do so enjoy being mysterious." She smiles, chuckling softly. "With the proper hood I should think I could pass for an elezen lass in the dark. I suppose I shall have to keep an ear out for what sort of rumors might spring up about the beloved Lord Commander and what sort of company he keeps." After all, much of what she learned was from listening to the right rumors, and had spent enough time in the Brume and the Crozier to know where the gossips lurked most frequently. All the better to amuse herself later and nip any illicit comments amongst the rumor mills in the bud.

[mostheavenly]

It is perhaps a pity that they both keep seeing past one another. So much of his indecision regarding her touch has to do more with how much he wants it than how little he does, and how ill-prepared he feels to offer more of it.

"Who knows? I might benefit from a tiny bit of scandal with things as they are," it takes him time, moreso when the start of things was so sudden and so serious, but he does always find himself growing less formal around her, warmer and freer just for being in her presence. "I feel there are likely more rumors about how cold I am than being prone to indiscretions, but I have never cared to find out for certain."

He stands and moves about, procuring the mentioned cloak and setting about closing up the office for the evening. It is the work of minutes, the motions sure and familiar.