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A knock at the door wasn't enough to pull Aymeric away from his paperwork. As his quill continued to scratch against the parchment, he called out, "Come in." Normally, a Temple Knight is stationed outside his office, but he had sent him home given how late he needed to remain in office tonight. This was his work, not the knight's. He shouldn't bear a burden the Lord Speaker had placed on his own shoulders.
The large doors creaked open as Artoirel stepped into his office, sighing at the sight of Aymeric working late into the night. The doors closed behind him as he stepped forward to the desk. "Ser Aymeric?"
Recognizing the voice, his hand stilled. There was little that could pull Aymeric away from his duty, but the presence of the elezen he cherished deeply always captured his attention. "There is no one nearby aside from the two of us. There is no need to be formal around me."
Relieved, Artoirel relaxed his posture. "Pardon the formality, but I find it has become a habit."
Aymeric chuckled, "An apology isn't necessary. I understand the need to show respect. It's what Ishgard was founded on, after all, and I expect it will take time to change."
Years of tradition and culture wouldn't change overnight, or even within a few years. A society as old as Ishgard was far too complacent in its old ways. Perhaps it wouldn't happen in his lifetime, but so long as they could lay the foundation for lasting change, Aymeric was more than fine with that.
"I suppose you are correct on the aspect of displaying proper respect," Artoirel replied with a smile. He pushed aside a stack of paper to make space on the desk, and took a seat on the newly cleared space. "Is this casual enough?"
"Perhaps a touch more."
Artoirel crossed his legs at the ankles.
"Perfect."
The count rolled his eyes, but took advantage of the position to peek at the paperwork on the desk. "Issues with the Ishgardian Church again?" Artoirel sighed. They had once been in the seat of power and nearly commanded the daily lives of everyone who called Ishgard home. The stripping away of their power was never going to sit well. Especially with the older generations still overseeing much of the church.
Aymeric set his quill down and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Try as we might, many still demand to have their administration reinstated." He set his hand in his lap, slouching in his chair. "Few noble houses, those with strong connections, are in favor, but the majority appear to favor the separation of church and government."
"I doubt for beneficial reasons," Artoirel replied with suspicion.
"Aye, your assumption is correct. Under the rule of the church, every citizen was expected to pay a tithe. As a count yourself, you are probably aware of the hefty sum noble houses paid to remain in good standing."
Far before inheriting the title of Count from his father, Artoirel had pored over every official document to prepare for the role. When it came to tax records, he had noted the amount of gil given to the church. He doubted anyone would have been content to pay such an exorbitant sum, but that was life in Ishgard. No one questioned the will of Halone. Or, rather, what highest highest-ranking members claimed for the goddess.
Needless to say, with the church out of the picture, the nobility could keep their coffers full.
He hopped off the desk and made his way to Aymeric's side. Thankfully, he wasn't wearing the large pauldrons that usually adorned his armor, and Artoirel was able to massage his tense shoulders. In a heartbeat, Aymeric sighed as all the tension left his body. "Thank you, Artoirel..." he pleasantly sighed.
"It's the least I can offer you in your hour of need. While the church will continue to be a nuisance, at the very least, the steps needed to build a better future have been taken."'
"I only hope the changes made will remain long when you and I walk Halone's halls."
A pessimistic thought, but it was correct all the same. Better times followed worse times, and worse times followed better times. They were connected. What came up will come down, and what fell will rise again.
Umbral and Astral. All the same, there wasn't any reason to give up hope.
"As do I."
Aymeric perked up in his seat as a realization came to mind. "Forgive me," he turned around in his seat to meet the other elezen's eyes, "I never did ask what brought you into my office tonight."
"I had an inkling you hadn't returned home, and it appears I was right," he admitted smugly. "I should reprimand you, however, it would be hypocritical of me to do so, given I only finished my fair share of work not long ago."
"It seems neither of us is willing to relent."
"I find it difficult to relax when there's much to be done. Now, before you say anything," Artoirel gestured to the papers on the desk, "I recommend you take a look at yourself."
Both men were silent as they took in the sight of papers stacked into several piles, only to burst into laughter not a moment after. There really was no helping it, but at least they had one another to rely on when the stress became too much. Well, only if they asked for help, which admittedly they found difficult to do.
There was no danger being seen as lesser, but asking for help was still beyond them. Unless one of them took the plunge to break the cycle, nothing would ever change.
"You bring up a fair point. I hate to ask this of you as you only finished tending to your own duties, but could you lend a hand?" Aymeric asked.
Artoirel's eyes glinted with the smallest spark of joy. "I would be more than happy to alleviate any amount of your workload. I will gladly assist you in whatever it is you need of me."
"If it isn't too much to ask, I could use a small bit of help organizing these documents. A few of these are agendas with items to be discussed in upcoming meetings, and it would be helpful to compile them by date. The rest are basic documents for raw material purchases, petitions, and other legal matters. I hope I'm not asking much."
"You ask too little of me," Artoirel replied, eyes rolling. "Don't be afraid to ask more from me. You know very well I can handle it."
Aymeric chuckled as he pushed a stack of papers in Artoirel's direction. "I shall bear that in mind the next time you drop by to check in on my well-being."