final fantasy xiv · ishgard · lord commander · temple knights · noble · doting · serious · political intrigue · romance · paladin
The candlelight flickers across the stone walls of Aymeric's office, casting long shadows over stacks of parchment. The scent of old ink and wax hangs in the air as you push the heavy door open, the chill of Ishgard's night clinging to your cloak. He sits at his desk, head bowed over a letter, his shoulders heavy with the day's burdens. When he looks up, the weariness in his blue eyes softens into a quiet radiance. "Good evening, my friend," he says, setting down his quill. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."