It seems a victory of sorts to celebrate. Pray lead the way at your leisure.
[ Now Zephirin stirs, inclining his head to nod his assent as Aymeric looks up. He does so with a smile of his own in return, small but genuine — it settles across his lips easily enough. Of late, he feels a sense of newfound peace, absent in days past when much seemed in vain. It might yet piece his heart back together, lighter in the end.
For Ishgard's sake, they have their roles to play.
Aymeric appears to have taken to his duties, at ease behind his new desk, before those seeking the Lord Commander's ear. Zephirin himself has laid to rest the reservations that weighed upon him when he was invited into the ranks of the Heavens' Ward.
He waits for Aymeric to join him, falling into step with the other man then to make their way through the Congregation's familiar halls, and soon outside, across the plaza. Saint Valeroyant's statue wears a cap of snow.
Unmistakably, a few curious glances follow them. ]
...If I may ask, are tensions among the Temple Knights resolved?
[ Ser Aymeric's promotion did not meet with unanimous support, this they all know, and some of his detractors likely hope to undermine his authority. ]
[ Aymeric stands and moves about the edge of his desk, keeping his smile. Zephirin's own is an expression Aymeric feels he is beginning to see more often, which is a pleasure in and of itself. Ever stoic when they first met, Zephirin seems more at ease when the occasion allows for it and Aymeric does not feel the need to force his own practiced smiles, normally used to placating others and garnering for good will.
There is doubtlessly some surprise at seeing them in each other's presence outside of the Congregation after their respective appointments. Though being accepted into the Heaven's Ward is a high honor in and of itself, whispers of their supposed rivalry do not die down quickly enough. Aymeric pays them no mind, seeing fit that their actions alone will speak for their conduct. At some point Ishgard will find something else to gossip about.
Aymeric bows his head, gladly leading the way out of his office and out towards street level. He trades a few nods with knights as they pass, all of whom salute on cue. They, at least, have the benefit of hiding their own straying gazes behind mail and helms. ]
They are mending.
[ Which is a kind way to put it. Aymeric takes them down the cobblestone, facing forward but glancing back at Zephirin as he speaks. ]
Ser Handeloup's support has been nothing short of instrumental in keeping most of the ire at bay, but complaints should not be writ off right out, for many only want what they see is best for Ishgard. I would hear them should they grace my doors. Some may take time, some may never be placated. I only hope that I am able to earn their trust through genuine action.
[ The knights at their posts, no matter their stares and their thoughts, know to reveal nothing of it out in the open. Ere long, they fade into the distance, out of earshot and gone from view — and perhaps what they have witnessed will serve to hush the persisting whispers. Perhaps, as Aymeric and Zephirin walk through Ishgard's streets, the capacity for peaceable collaboration is made plain.
Some paces behind Aymeric now, allowing him to take the lead on the way to Madame Rouwene's, Zephirin meets the other man's gaze, contemplative then. Abruptly, the conversation calls to mind words exchanged weeks prior; he hears the echo of Aymeric's deflections, readily humble, and of his verdict as they fought side by side.
What they face within Ishgard is not so different. They might aid Ser Handeloup to see it mended by means of a deliberate, coordinated effort. ]
Lending them your ear may be a first such step taken.
[ Like as not, those who believe Aymeric undeserving of his new title expect to be dismissed, silenced, or else they risk the loss of their own rank. ]
...'Tis my hope that you will call upon me as well, should you require it. I would offer what assistance I can provide.
no subject
[ Now Zephirin stirs, inclining his head to nod his assent as Aymeric looks up. He does so with a smile of his own in return, small but genuine — it settles across his lips easily enough. Of late, he feels a sense of newfound peace, absent in days past when much seemed in vain. It might yet piece his heart back together, lighter in the end.
For Ishgard's sake, they have their roles to play.
Aymeric appears to have taken to his duties, at ease behind his new desk, before those seeking the Lord Commander's ear. Zephirin himself has laid to rest the reservations that weighed upon him when he was invited into the ranks of the Heavens' Ward.
He waits for Aymeric to join him, falling into step with the other man then to make their way through the Congregation's familiar halls, and soon outside, across the plaza. Saint Valeroyant's statue wears a cap of snow.
Unmistakably, a few curious glances follow them. ]
...If I may ask, are tensions among the Temple Knights resolved?
[ Ser Aymeric's promotion did not meet with unanimous support, this they all know, and some of his detractors likely hope to undermine his authority. ]
no subject
There is doubtlessly some surprise at seeing them in each other's presence outside of the Congregation after their respective appointments. Though being accepted into the Heaven's Ward is a high honor in and of itself, whispers of their supposed rivalry do not die down quickly enough. Aymeric pays them no mind, seeing fit that their actions alone will speak for their conduct. At some point Ishgard will find something else to gossip about.
Aymeric bows his head, gladly leading the way out of his office and out towards street level. He trades a few nods with knights as they pass, all of whom salute on cue. They, at least, have the benefit of hiding their own straying gazes behind mail and helms. ]
They are mending.
[ Which is a kind way to put it. Aymeric takes them down the cobblestone, facing forward but glancing back at Zephirin as he speaks. ]
Ser Handeloup's support has been nothing short of instrumental in keeping most of the ire at bay, but complaints should not be writ off right out, for many only want what they see is best for Ishgard. I would hear them should they grace my doors. Some may take time, some may never be placated. I only hope that I am able to earn their trust through genuine action.
no subject
Some paces behind Aymeric now, allowing him to take the lead on the way to Madame Rouwene's, Zephirin meets the other man's gaze, contemplative then. Abruptly, the conversation calls to mind words exchanged weeks prior; he hears the echo of Aymeric's deflections, readily humble, and of his verdict as they fought side by side.
What they face within Ishgard is not so different. They might aid Ser Handeloup to see it mended by means of a deliberate, coordinated effort. ]
Lending them your ear may be a first such step taken.
[ Like as not, those who believe Aymeric undeserving of his new title expect to be dismissed, silenced, or else they risk the loss of their own rank. ]
...'Tis my hope that you will call upon me as well, should you require it. I would offer what assistance I can provide.