πΌπ½πͺπ»πΌ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hobbitholmes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
synthneon2021-11-19 12:58 am
hobbitholmes) wrote in synthneon2021-11-19 12:58 am
Entry tags:
FF PSL | β for those we can yet save. β
AFTERGLOW
β hear, feel think. β
βοΈ HEAVENSWARD
β
Ever Heavensward (3.0)
β Ishgard Meetings, Part 2
β As Goes Light, So Goes Darkness (3.1)
β Unfleeting Emotions
β The Gears of Change (3.2)
β Heavy Hearts, Part 2
β Revenge of the Horde (3.3)
β Starlight Festival (Alkaid)
β Starlight Festival (KP)
β Ishgard Meetings, Part 2
β As Goes Light, So Goes Darkness (3.1)
β Unfleeting Emotions
β The Gears of Change (3.2)
β Heavy Hearts, Part 2
β Revenge of the Horde (3.3)
β Starlight Festival (Alkaid)
β Starlight Festival (KP)
π₯ STORMBLOOD
β
IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
β IC Permission
no subject
It is a confusing blur of scenes that he dimly remembers, such as being carried from the street to the healers, interposed with her talking to him as she continues her ministrations. Wanting to dislodge those memories and focus on what is actually happening in the present, he shakes his head once, hoping to clear the fog swirling in his mind.
But she continues speaking, the flow of her words washing over him, and it seems as though his mind is determined to ensure he relives the moments following the attack. He cannot remember all of it with any sort of clarity, but one thing stands out to him as she continues with the stream of words. It is only in his mind, of course, but as her fingers press against the scar, even though the action is quick, it feels to him that a flame has just burst from the scarred area. The one thing he remembers clearly from that night is the moment the healers drew the knife from him, and it seems that that is what his mind has chosen to replay for him.
Instinctively, he tenses, moving to curl in on himself as if that will lessen the pain his mind is forcing him to experience again. It is not only a physical pain from the wound, but something deeper, more internal and quite personal. He has never spoken of it to anyone, but the more Alkaid speaks, the more his repressed thoughts and feelings seem to be drawn from him. But even as he wrestles with his fears and feelings, one thing still stands out to him: my love, she said. In the swirl of emotions that he is doing his best to navigate, he clings onto those words as if they are a lifeline.
His voice is low, the words hushed, but the room is relatively quiet, except for any sounds she might make and the sound of his quiet but slightly labored breathing. ]
I have never wanted anything but to protect Ishgard and her people, whatever the cost to me personally. [ She might notice the way emotion threatens to choke the words he is trying to say, but he does his best to push through and continue giving voice to what caused him fear then, and hurt as well. ] Although the healers did their work quickly and as well as anyone could hope for, I- When I was able to stand once again, I feared going before the people once more, not because I feared another attack, but because...
[ His free hand clenches into a fist, and a mist forms unbidden in his eyes that he wishes he could hide from her. ] Were my own decisions so misguided and focused on the wrong things that the people felt the better outcome was to see me removed from the leadership entirely?
[ He only did what he thought was in the best interests of the people, and although he cannot speak to the motivations of the one who attacked him, he wonders if perhaps that was not a representation of the people's thoughts as a whole. Would they rather have another in power? ]
One person may not always be representative of the thoughts of a whole, but what if that was the message they were trying to convey, and I, caught up in what I thought was the right course of action, failed to see it before? Ishgard is made up of more than simply nobles and those with vast fortunes to their names.
[ This responsibility does not land solely on him, because the delineation between the rich and the poor has existed for far longer than he has held his positions, but he cannot help but feel as the present leader, it is also a failure on his part that he has done nothing to see to the needs of everyone, noble and commoner alike. ]
no subject
She pulls herself to sit up properly once more as he shifts to his side. She positions herself so that her hand may still be on his wound, but he can curl around her if he so desires. His head might find a place in her lap once more as her fingers still curl through his dark locks to try and ease him through speaking his fears. There are no words she gives to try and put proof against his worries and fears. He needs to speak all that this wound seem to embody - both physically and in his mind - and speaking to immediately soothe the words would do little good for him. She is to listen and heal, not to speak in his defense or abash what causes the fears. ]
Oh, Aymeric... my poor knight. [ Her fingers ease at his healed wound just enough to remove the pressure. ] You place so much on yourself... you internalize it... and all it does is swirl and swirl... knotting you up on the inside... until it cannot fathom being inside any longer.
[ Her fingers start to move gently again to encourage his aether to flow through the injury once more. She can still sense the aches and pains deep down. However, she can see how labored his breathing is and how his mind tugs away. Should this be enough? The pull from his aether still tugs at her own, begging for more. ]
The conference has caused you to fear too , hasn't it? [ Her eyes close once more as her fingers move in circles. Listening, hearing, making conjectures. ] You're afraid of yet another wound; a strike that would find its way once more through your armor... one that you feel you could not bare...
But, my love, you have another layer of armor. One that Nidhogg, Ishgard, the world, would have to pierce to harm you again... [ Her free hand reaches for the one of his that is curled ever so tightly. Fingers slide in between the space of his own and his palm, guiding his hand to rest gently over her heart. The shoulder of the borrowed shirt has once again slipped off her own, but she has yet to notice the near revealing nature of it all. ] I should have been there when they struck you... insisted more that they allow me to heal the man I love... now, all I can do is ease your knotted heart and help your wound... and never let them hurt you like this again.
[ Her tail lifts to drape around his frame as if to further cement what she has said. Estinien is not there to be Aymeric's sword, and thus, she will be the armor he so desperately needs. There is no doubt in her mind that K'thisru would agree as well, even if her affection for the Lord Commander is quite different.
Her head tilts to the side as she continues to listen to what he might need that he would not say. ]
There's more ... isn't there? Something else that knots up inside that keeps you from easing entirely... what is it?
no subject
But at the same time, if she believes that this will help, he has no reason to think otherwise. He curls further in on himself as the pain crests, finally seeming to break like waves on the shore, but he remains positioned with his head in her lap. Her presence and her touch is still comforting, and he cannot help but reach out for more.
His words momentarily fail him as he struggles to navigate the swirling storm of emotions and fears, and his head dips lower as his breath hitches. The absence of the pressure on the wound draws a deep exhale of breath from him, but he still cannot tell if any of the aches deep in the wound have lessened.
The conference... The tension in his shoulders reforms as he recalls how events at the conference rapidly swirled out of his control. She is not wrong in saying that he fears sustaining another wound, but more than that, he fears mishandling the trust that has been handed to him as Lord Commander and acting leader. It seems to him that that trust is already on a knife's edge, and all he has to do is make another wrong decision for it all to fall apart, either to his detriment or that of Ishgard's.
She speaks of another layer of armor, and he knows what it is she means, but he finds himself shaking his head even though he cannot properly verbalize the words. Perhaps the swirling of his aether will carry enough of the meaning for her to grasp it. She is far more important to Eorzea than he is, and he will not risk her safety or her life simply to protect his. Another leader could rise up in his place, and who better to assume that position than Lucia, or perhaps Artoirel, if either of them so desired?
She, on the other hand, is irreplaceable, as is her sister, and the thought of harm coming to either of them causes an even deeper pain to form in his heart. The hand that she has drawn to rest over her heart tightens against hers, and against his will, his shoulders begin to shake with a rush of emotion that he cannot manage to hold back. ]
no subject
The fingers at his scar spread out, moving so that her hand may gently rest against the site. She can feel that the contention inside has peaked and broken, finally allowing the muscles to relax. The aches are still present, but now perhaps due to fatigue of being tense for so long. Alkaid lets out a long exhale as she allows her whole hand to be enveloped in the green white tinged light. She gently massages his side with her fingers, channeling her own aether now into the site of the wound. She aims to further relax him and now ease his pain of all forms he is in. Now, perhaps, he might be more responsive to her healing with the wound -- metaphorically -- is open. ]
I know it is difficult to think that things will work themselves out... and that things certainly must be at their bleakest. [ She fingers continue to move side to side, her palm gently resting above his scar. ] Yet, deep down, past all this pain... is the hope you have for the city you love so much. There's the strength to see that hope manifest into reality... but we must get through the pain first with that strength...
Don't feel as if you are weak because you bleed, or because you are human. Understand that you are, and use that to your benefit. While your leadership is temporary... lead them with not just the stone and steel that Ishgard is made of. Remind them of the heart that beats behind the walls--your walls--and teach them the emotions that drive one to protect and fight outside of merely the loss, the suffering, the pain.
[ Her eyes half-open again once more, eyes going down to his with a gentle smile on her face. Her hand squeezes his as the other continues to gently rub his side. ]
no subject
When she begins to massage the site of the injury, he also lets out a long exhale. The sharp pain that threatened to pull him away from her has finally subsided, replaced by a duller sort of pain. At the very least, it is easier for him to bear. Once again, her words wash over him, but this time, he is able to focus on what she is saying and how she says it. Her voice has a way of comforting him, of easing the tension that has been a constant companion, and he wishes that they could be together like this always.
He would even shoulder the worst pain imaginable if it meant that he could hear her voice and feel the touch of her hands. ] I have no doubts that things will work themselves out, and that Ishgard will be free of this war and strife. But-
[ His brow furrows, and his expression shifts into a frown. ] Although I wield a sword, and although there are those who will follow my lead, I believe that Ishgard's salvation will not come because of anything that I have done or will yet do.
[ Some of the tension that he has been carrying has begun to fade, thanks to her touch and the aether she is channeling into his wound, but he still feels a current of inadequacy and doubt swirling around him. ]
You speak of strength and heart, but when I look to the future, although I have no gift of foresight, I do not see Ishgard's salvation resting in my hands, but in the hands of others.
[ He has suspected previously that it will not be him who brings peace to his people, but others who came to Ishgard driven by need, and along the way, became staunch allies and even greater friends. ]
no subject
The exhale makes her smile. That, to her, is a sign that the healing is working as it should. He no doubt will feel tired from it all, but, perhaps that will finally let him rest and not merely sleep. Her healing, as thorough and helpful as it might be, cannot truly ease or erase the doubts and pains in the mind. She can offer to help shoulder his burdens but that is truly all she is capable of doing. ]
The one who paves that path for heroes to walk is equally as important as the heroes themselves. They will do what you cannot, and in turn, you will continue to lead and help those that remain once the heroes are called forth elsewhere into the world.
Do not diminish your own role in all of this, my love. Your part and place in it is just as important. I wouldn't see you demean yourself so much simply because Nidhogg took advantage of a weakness.
[ Despite the odd positioning, she leans forward to press a kiss to the hands above his scar. She would kiss him proper if they could position themselves differently, yet, she can tell where his wound requires just a bit more aether... ]
no subject
And not for the first time, he finds himself wondering why she would ever love him, because of the two of them, it is clear in his mind who the stronger one is.
Protests and counter arguments form in his mind, and he would speak of them, but he feels as though she has heard all of them before. So instead of repeating himself once more, he decides it is time to throw all caution and hesitation to the winds, and do something that he wishes he could do more often.
Ignoring the twinge of protest in his still-sensitive side, he shifts position so that he can rise up from his position on the bed, propping himself up on one arm, and press a deep kiss onto her mouth. ]
no subject
He moves to sit up and her ears stand on end with the tip of her tail following soon after. Her eyes are wide with the expression on her face that he ought to remain laying down. When it is clear he will not, she shifts to try and support his weight as much as she could. The hand at his side gently moves once again to try and help the twinge she can feel under her fingers.
The kiss takes her by surprise for only a moment before she is returns the motion. She parts her lips for him, inviting him in further if he so wishes. The hand entwined with his gives a squeeze. ]
no subject
The longer that he remains in his propped up position, the more his side protests, some of the ache beginning to resurface, as if protesting his reckless actions. Still, he ignores it, wishing only to take what he sees as his bold first steps in bridging the gap between propriety and desire.
When she parts her lips for him, he hesitates for the briefest of moments, but he decides to let instinct take over, momentarily pushing caution away. The action is tentative and brief, but he slides the tip of his tongue to meet with hers, as if testing how far she will allow him to go. ]
no subject
While he may be hesitant, she meets his action with a sense of confidence--and a hit of shyness. Her tongue meets his to welcome the motion. Then, she parts only enough to lie down, the hand entwined with his tugging him to join her. There is a hint of redness to her cheeks as she smiles before kissing him again open mouthed.
The hand at his side continues to gently rub to encourage his own aether to move into the wound.]
no subject
When she moves to lie down, he follows, but he still has not fully resumed lying down himself. Encouraged by her response, he leans into the kiss, and this time, his tongue lightly grazes the tops of her teeth.
It's then that he realizes that any hurts he's sustained could protest as loudly as possible, and he would just completely ignore them in favor of sharing these intimate times with her. ]
no subject
A pleased sound comes from her as he grazes along her mouth. The edge of her tail sways as her breathing hitches slightly. She shifts just slightly to nibble at his lower lip. The instincts at the back of her mind battle to take over, wanting to pull him in further and push the boundaries more. She tempers herself, of course, determined to let him set the pace and how far they go. ]
no subject
He continues his careful exploration, moving past her teeth and a little further in, but as always, the thought that this is not what she wants is lingering in the back of his mind.
Momentarily withdrawing, he asks: ] Is this all right with you? [ He supposes they should check in with each other along the way. ]
no subject
Her eyes open when he pulls away, almost a dazed look of confusion in them. His question takes a moment to register in her mind. Then, her head tilts to the side as she wonders why be might ask it. Perhaps she has not been clear enough in her advances?
Their joined hands move as she directs them back to her chest. The night shirt is still pulled down on one side, exposing a fair amount of her breast. She then moves her hand to press his against the exposed area. A playful smirk takes her face as she cannot stop the edge of her tail from flicking side to side.
Well, she is certainly direct now. ]
This is very all right with me, ser knight. [ Her eyes flick to the side in a playful ponder. ] It may even be a situation in which I may find myself biting...
no subject
He knows full well that her advances have spoken quite clearly, but he still remains apprehensive and almost fearful that either his actions do not line up with what she desires, or that they are simply inadequate due to his lack of experience and practice with such intimate things.
But before he can further explain himself, she moves their hands and places them atop her chest. And he cannot help but notice the way her clothes have fallen or what has been revealed.
She might notice a slight tremor in his hands, not because of displeasure or nerves (although they are certainly in an elevated state at the moment), but because his desire to just give full rein to his passions is stronger than ever. ]
Biting, is it? [ He marvels that he is able to respond without a stammer or a shake in his voice. ] I see.
[ Lest she think that he does not welcome such a thing, he moves carefully, being mindful of both of their respective positions, leaning down just far enough to plant a kiss beside where she has placed their hands. ]
no subject
Her hand gently brushes along the top of his own as she feels the tremors. She does not mean to push or even demand he drop his barriers or step where he is not ready. All she wishes for him to know is that she desires him and hopes he does the same for her.
She moves to explain that very notion when his lips press against her chest. There is a sharp inhale, and he might notice how the knee at his side presses into his. Gods, how she would not mind him exploring her, but...
Alkaid swallow the sudden lump of desire in her throat. ] If you would rather rest...
no subject
For a moment, when her knee presses into him, he lets out a sharp exhale in response, and that part of him that wants to cross that threshold and finally begin to truly explore her does its best to make itself known. ]
As long as you are here, I do not think I could rest. [ And lest she misunderstand him and interpret his words to mean that she is being troublesome and keeping him awake, his expression shifts into a smile that is equal parts beckoning and teasing all at once. ] I wonder if anyone has told you that you manage to catch the eye in a way that is quite distracting.
no subject
Would he think less of her or come to resent her if she did?
He is right to presume her thoughts as her eyes open with that very question in mind. Should she leave so he might find sleep? If she is pulling him from a much needed reprieve, then...
His smile causes her breath to catch in her throat and a blush to take her cheeks. The statement he proposed blanks for but a moment as she lays almost entranced by the expression alone. Her eyebrows turn upwards as she feels herself quietly losing the battle within.
Oh, yes. He had made an inquerey. How does she speak again--let alone breathe? ]
N-not as such, [ Her voice is lower than she thought. ] Several adventurers complimented me... but most sought to ask my hand in keeping them alive. This... you, I, I...
[ Words utterly fail her as she tries to put thoughts together. However, he is incredibly distracting, as the day she met him in Camp Dragonshead.
Seven hells. Does he have any ides what he does to her?
The hand covering his own trails lightly up his arm to rest on his cheek. The other at his side continues to gently rub the site of the wound. Her body shifts under him to encourage him as her control becomes a fleeting thing. If his look beckons her, then her look is simply begging him to move forward ... ]
no subject
And, to answer her question, he has very little idea of the effect he is having on her, because he is doing his best to navigate his own churning thoughts and desires, some of them far more daring than others. ]
Ah, I see. I imagine that if they had, and they were still present, or at least nearby, we might have had to have a talk. [ His smile edges just a fraction towards something akin to mischief, because he would not begrudge anyone who wished to compliment Alkaid or her sister. And, naturally, he is not the jealous sort, but given how he wishes for a closer relationship with her, he fears that he may very well have to have words with any who harbors notions of wooing her. That spot has been taken, or so he would like to think. ]
Tell me, so that I might do all I can to ensure this is a pleasing experience for you- Is there anything that I ought to consider off-limits?
[ He would just as soon as explore unchecked, but he imagines he would not be a very good partner if he did not attempt to determine anything she does not like or places she does not wish to have touched. ]
no subject
There is something particular about how he phrases his statement that makes her cheeks flush and her heart clench. The idea of him looking sour at any who may wish to woo her is thrilling in some manner. While the term ownership is one that implies things she would not mean? Something inside her desires to be his... which, he has already offered his home, his room, his bed...
The usually bright tinted mint-green eyes darken as her breathing deepens. Gods. What has she become around him? Surely, it is an unseemly image and one that would not please him. ]
A stern talk... I would hope. [ She's practically breathless as well. How did that happen?
Then, a shake of her head to his question. She squeezes his hand still at his chest. The voice that stammered just seconds ago is strong and direct. ] Nowhere is off-limits. I'd have you everywhere if you would want it.
no subject
He watches her reactions carefully, looking for any signs of displeasure or discontent, but all he sees is what he believes to be desire, and he takes that as an encouragement to continue. ]
Oh, a very stern talk, as I must make my position and my feelings clear, lest anyone think I am not wholly resolved in my commitments to you.
[ And at her next words, his eyes seem to darken with a desire of his own, and a look of anticipation crosses his face. ] And I would say the same for you, should that be your desire. [ He sees no reason why any part of him would be considered off-limits to her, and he hopes that she understands that.
And again, he leans in for a kiss, wishing to pour all of his love and affection for her into it so that there cannot be even a shred of doubt for either of them that he considers himself hers, and no one else's. ]
no subject
Her eyes flutter shut and she returns the kiss just as hungrily. She wants to be hisI, for no one else has caught her attention like he has. No one has ever made her stop to consider staring a life in a place not where her clan is. There has been no one else to make her accept there are paths outside those that lead her back to her childhood home...
The hand at his side finally begins to move, searching for the edge of his nightshirt while her knee still rests to his other give him support. Her hand finds its mark hesitantly slipping underneath to be able to touch his skin properly. Then, her fingers gently touch the scar from the knife wound. ]
no subject
He is about to reach for the knee that is resting against him, intending to let his hands wander and caress her thigh, but that is before her hand slips beneath his shirt and he feels her fingers come to rest on the place where he was hurt.
It is a sensitive spot, of course, but even if it were not, he knows he would always feel a spark or a tingle where her fingers brush against his skin. She just has that effect on him, and now is no different.
And then, as if his body has a mind of its own, being mindful to not overbalance and land ungracefully upon her, he lightly presses the front of his hips against hers. At first, he just holds that position for a moment, unmoving, but after a moment's hesitation, he tries an experimental shift up and then back down, all the while keeping his eyes locked on hers, looking for any signs of displeasure.
This feels like the most intimate action he has ever initiated, given his previous lack of intimate encounters with anyone, but he has decided to let instinct direct him where to go and hope that the outcome is pleasing for both of them. ]
no subject
Then, she gasps breathlessly as his hips push into hers.
Alkaid's eyes shut for only a moment as she tries desperately to keep the last shred of propriety in place. Her tail, draped to the side, sways quickly as if to express how she truly feels. Then, he moves, snd her eyes lock onto his. Instinct and passion fully takes ahold then as she presses her hips in return. A soft moan leaves her--albiet she still tries to control the volume so it might not draw attention to them.
The hand at his spine begins to move upwards again, in search of a place that he might enjoy. The other moves down this arm by gently grazing the tips of her fingers along his skin.
If she let's go now? She is unsure of how far her passions would demand the go. Would that be alright with him? Her hips move against his as if to test the question.]
no subject
But when he is with her, he finds that he does not have so much pressure to uphold his public persona, a fact that has become quite apparent given what the two of them are presently doing.
With their hips still pressed together, he shifts upward and then down again, creating a little friction between them, hoping that the action is as pleasurable for her as it is for him.
The thought occurs to him that perhaps they could cross the threshold that he has been hesitant to even approach, but they have come this far, after all. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
/rounds this as done!