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You hadn’t expected the weather to change so abruptly. In fact, you anticipated the oncoming blizzard to hold off until you managed to reach Fortemps manor. Instead, you end up pulled into the Borel estate, its head manservant seeing your figure dash across the Pillars through the window and urging you inside. How will you explain to Lord Edmont you’ll be missing for the rest of the evening?
You ruffle the frozen flakes from your hair and your clothes. The warmth bathes you like a hot spring and does wonders to your frozen fingers. As soon as you remove your coat and boots, you find yourself gravitating towards the closest source of heat - which just so happens to be coming from the den.
You curl up to a ball before a burning hearth and rub your palms together before bringing it closer. The interior walls were a dazzling shade of sapphire with gold detailing creating royal patterns across the design. It certainly reminded you of the outfit Aymeric wears as the lord commander, which only served to make you ever more curious to what he was like in casual attire.
Aymeric appeared before you in half a bell and you were mildly disappointed to find him in his alpine coat. You can tell that he had dressed himself and combed his hair, making you (almost) painfully aware that he was perhaps tucked into bed prior to your entrance and you missed the chance to sneak a peek.
No matter.
You stand to greet Aymeric and he smiles with one of his own. The lord commander notices how comfortable you seem to be by the fire and moves to sit by the closest couch. He asks you if you are alright and he praises Halone for bringing you to safety before you fell victim to the onslaught of the Fury's ire. You laugh and explain that you had finished your latest dungeon and was returning to Fortemps manor for a brief respite.
He asks you to regale him of your tale. While it would be ideal for him to have joined you, reality decided his fate was not to be. Thus would he be satisfied with a simple imagining of how your battles turned out. The sight of your muscles flexing as it weaves between attacks or takes the brunt of a blow, an expression of adrenaline contorting your face from the thrill of adventure, the beads of sweat running down the sides of your temple as you cheer in victory…
Your voice pulls Aymeric from his small fantasy, your eyes dark with concern with how lost he seemed to be. With certain bashfulness, Aymeric admits how his inner wanderlust had him carried away and he was rewarded with the sound of your giggle. How he wished to hear more of it.
The greater part of the evening was used simply talking. Speaking of day-to-day activities, asking of their health, bidding each other to rest; because both of you give so much to that which you are committed to and it takes others to serve as a reminder so that neither of you collapse from exhaustion. That’s just how both of you work. There wasn’t anything wrong with that.
Then, silence falls when your gazes meet.
Neither of you are aware of the hush in the room or the lull in the conversation. You are both quiet, you admiring how his eyes sparkle with the reflection of the flame and Aymeric adoring how your memory of the tale is brightening your own. You both stay like this, comfortable in the silence.
Someone holds me safe and warm.
Aymeric reaches out to take your hand in his. You allow him this and allow him to pull you closer to his person. Off from the ground and into his lap. You feel his body heat and when bare skin met bare skin, your heart fluttered at the sensation of his erratic beat.
Horses prance through a silver storm.
The winds outside seemed to pick up and, in the far corners of your mind, you hear the rustling against the walls and window. It goes unspoken, for your body is indulging in the feel of his hands exploring just as you are unconsciously chasing after his warmth with slight flinches and head tilts. His fingers are gentle, his caress delicate - as if you are both a porcelain figurine on the verge of shattering and an unknown deity that the Twelve kept hidden this entire time.
Figures dancing gracefully across my memory.
Aymeric leans his head towards you, closing the gap enough that your lips were an ilm away from his. You can feel his breath and it only made your heart fit to burst. Your cheeks burned, but so did his. That is, if the lighting wasn’t betraying your eyes.
“You are still chilled overmuch, my friend,” he whispered in a husky voice. “With the storm, it seems wise for you to remain here for the night…”
You gulped and nodded. From excitement, understanding or obedience...who knows?
Far away, long ago…
Aymeric released a soft hum and soon enough, he had closed the gap. His lips were soft on yours and you question for but a breath how he managed to maintain its smoothness in spite of the dry cold of winter, but the thought is pushed aside the more he pulled you to him. To him and with him, down to the lake of need and throwing the chains of restraint across the shore, the life raft being the secure embrace of the other. Both your hands were everywhere and nowhere at once - across arms, threading through hair, brushing against cheeks, sinking lower and lower.
Aymeric picks you up then, causing you to sigh as he breaks the kiss. Even when he is carrying you to his bedchambers, he peppers kisses along your forehead, to the top of your head, anywhere he could as he twirled you in his arms.
Glowing dim as an ember.
When he places you on his bed and retreats to close and lock his door, you notice that his own personal fireplace was losing strength. The candle on his nightstand was melting and a book was half-heartedly tossed across the surface in a rush. Aymeric was excited to see you and it added a certain emotion into the already overflowing melding pot that was whirling in your chest.
Even greater was the thrill when you see he had shed his coat, revealing a plain button tunic that he wore in his colors. Despite the fading light, his expression was clear as day and it was focused solely on you like a predator to its prey.
Things my heart used to know.
Your arms open to welcome Aymeric into your embrace and he collapses into it, your body a temptation that all his years of faith in the Fury could not steer him away from. He hears the muffled chuckles and smiles all the same. Smiles as his lips roam your skin to paint an array of kisses. On your neck, on your collarbone and on your bare chest once he removed your top from you. He hopes you like raspberries.
Things it yearns to remember.
When was the last time you felt like this…?
To feel so safe in someone’s hold, to feel the warmth of their love against your own, the affections evident in each and every brush of skin on skin. You have spent so many moons remaining strong for Eorzea, for the people that plead for your assistance. You’ve bitten back a remark when a merchant was rude and suppressed tears for the ones you were unable to save.
Yet here, right now, you are being cared for. You are being loved in the way you deserve and, oh, how absolutely sublime it is to be reminded of such a sensation.
And a song someone sings…
Aymeric mutters your name like a prayer, a chant. You, in turn, call out to him as if it was the only thing you knew how to say. He was your focus, he was what your heart desired and, by the Twelve, would you level an entire nation if he was taken away from you. For when a heart loves, it knows no bounds. When a heart bleeds, it knows no end.
So, both of you sing. Sing a chorus of each other’s names in the shadowy corner of Aymeric’s bedchamber. Neither of you notice when the hearth’s light finally goes out; the moonlight was bright as it pierced through the glass panes and the warmth of each other’s bodies was enough to stave off the cold. Even more so when the fabrics that separated the intimacies between you two were peeled off.
Once upon a...
Faeries tales often have a willing hero and an eager love interest. No one really knows what occurs after ‘the end,’ only knowing the story begins with a ‘once upon a time.’ In this same notion, you don’t know what the future holds or where it will take you, but at least you know your story began with love.
With love amidst a silver storm on a cold winter night.