He had at least some knowledge of the tribulations the pair had been through. Sapho'li at the least, was hardly shy about discussing the source of his scars. He had always been a rather open person, though a bit cursed to be met with disbelief often. J'tomo was a bit more of an enigma, perhaps lending him to his role as Azure Dragoon.

Estinien withdrew as though the blow had been a physical one. The words burned like ice, like water thrown on you in the depths of a pleasant slumber. In his mind, he couldn't return. He couldn't bear the memories of the pain he'd endured, the years of abuse used to forge him into a weapon. He would live and die for Ishgard, but he couldn't bear her walls any longer-- even for Aymeric.

He knew that if he returned, that if he looked into that soft azure gaze for more than a fleeting instance that he would never be able to leave; never be free of those walls that Aymeric was bound to ever again.

In the end he said nothing, but looked away, jaw clenched. There was little he could do. Nothing he could say would right it-- all the same, he felt that now was a particularly bad time to be discussing this. All the same, the phrase played over in his head, an awful echo:

"Gave up...?" He found himself repeating, weak and small.