dutyroulette | The Next Morning (Francel & Aymeric)

[he grins and lowers his head to stifle a laugh.] I promise that he's the sweetest man, especially to children.

[He listens to Francel as he looks over the menu himself.]

Sounds like an excellent choice. I know for fact that he has the mushrooms delivered from the Shroud by the fastest fleet of chocobos gil can buy. The hogs he raises himself!

[He flips the menu over to a blank side out of habit- the paperwork has gotten to him in recent moons.]

I will be happy with my usual, fillet of salmon with eggs Benedict. No one in Ishgard makes a better Hollandaise than Master Urrix...

[As if on cue, the hawkish chef comes back a little sooner than he said. He takes up the champagne and pops the cork expertly into a napkin, then pouring each man a generous glass. He smiles coyly at Aymeric's compliment and nods as he peers toward Francel. "My Lord, is your desire set still on the omelette?"]

[naturally, the first thought in francel's head is oh dear halone did he hear me talking about him making children cry. he jolts and looks around in a panic, like a nutkin that's been caught eating from a hoard of acorns.]

E-Er — ah — y-yes, yes it is!

[he's going to have a heart attack one day if they keep eating here. ...that, or he'll get used to lord urrix.]

[Urrix lets out a hearty laugh. "My Lord, there is no need for you to be so tense and nervous. I am unaware if Ser Aymeric told you, but we have long cleared the racks and tools from our basement. Would you care for some warm bread?"

Aymeric laughed along with him, reaching across the table to give Francel's hand a squeeze.]

We would be more than pleased, Master Urrix- Oh! Have you any of that wonderful beer butter still?

[Urrix offered a nod and a polite bow as he left again in an odd sort of silence- as if he were wearing just his socks.]

Pray, don't fret, Francel. He is a self-aware man of good humor. He takes a pleasure in his presentation.

[the odd silence with which urrix slinks around his restaurant definitely does not escape francel's notice — but he's soothed by the warmth of aymeric's hand on his, and he laces their fingers together with a tiny little smile.]

I apologize. I must seem terribly disgraceful. I, er... am simply rather used to hearing the clinking of mail, or heels on tile, when men walk...

[he sighs.]

...It is lovely to see the ease with which you speak to people, however.

'Tis all in my line of work. There is nothing here that was born without practice. [his eyes go half lidded as he glances toward his bubbling glass.]

As I said, there is nothing to worry about. Inquisitors are used to this sort of talk; I do so believe that they enjoy it with their constant participation. Master Urrix knows how to walk with his heels on the stone, but he chooses not to.

[ Even so, Aymeric's voice was quiet, his usual projection lowered greatly for their private conversation. Aymeric pets Francel's thumb with his own as he takes up his glass of champagne in his other hand.]

Anyroad, let us make a toast- to wonderful company.

[francel smiles and lifts his own glass, clinking it delicately against aymeric's, as a noble lady might.]

To excellent company — and the very best of Lord Commanders.

[he takes a sip of his champagne and gives aymeric's hand a little squeeze. sappy as it is, he can't seem to find it in himself to want to let go.... but it occurs to him once more that he has known aymeric only one day and yet bedded him twice, and he colors slightly as he takes a second, longer sip of champagne.]

...Aymeric? May I ask something... rather untoward?

[he sips his drink, smiling into his glass at the flattering little toast. ]

But of course. You needn't restrict yourself around me.

[he smiles at francel's hand, really enjoying this fast youthful romance they've decided to play out. It's new and exciting and probably kind of a bad idea but. This minor reckless act gives him some of the careless youthful vigor he can almost remember. ]

You don't, ah...

[his fingers twitch in aymeric's, and when at last he finishes his thought it is in a very quiet voice.]

...you don't do this with everyone you bed, do you?

[he almost spits his drink, making an awkward half sip-choke,setting his glad down more firmly than he meant to. ]

Heavens, no! [his face is all concern and slightly hurt as he squeezes his hand tighter]

Lord Francel, what sort of man do you take me for?

[ahh, that injured look hurts francel, too! he was afraid this might happen.]

I-I did not mean to imply anything about your character! Only...

[his teeth fret at his peachy bottom lip.]

I — I cannot imagine why you are being so... so kind to me. No one is... no one has ever before paid me such careful attention, so I...

[he pulls his hand off the table to place a couple kisses on his knuckles. ]

You became a man unbeknownst to all of Ishgard within your home's walls and upon the hills of the Skyfire Locks. Do not mistake how easily it is to overlook you as you've bloomed in the shade.

[his expression softens back out as he rio's his glass and swirls it slowly. ]

And besides, there is no accounting for good taste.

[with that additional demonstration of affection, francel turns a lovely shade of scarlet, ]

I... I just meant... i-it is not as though I expect others to notice me! But — but a man of your caliber could easily have someone else, and — I never even dared to even dream that a-anyone would take me out to, to have breakfast or see a show at the theater or —

[he breaks off abruptly as he suddenly finds that his eyes are moist, and he has to wipe them on the back of his nice new silk sleeves.]

...I...

I thought perhaps you were somehow trying to buy my silence with your kindness. Only... only you would not have shown yourself at Haillenarte Manor or walked with me through the Crozier if that were the case...

[he laughs quietly into his glass of champagne.]

...I'm sorry. I suppose I was just being a fool. And... and I did doubt your character, did I not? I... I should trust you more.

[He drops Francels hand, but immediately leans forward over the table, wiping Francels cheeks with this thumb. ]

I suppose I have been acting strangely. It would be stranger for you not to doubt my motives. I admit I don't fully understand them myself yet. Though I have given permission to just go and live a bit on my own terms... And to seek the things I want for myself.

[his hand sinks and he folds them on the table. He looks at them for a moment. ] I suppose it is true that I can court anyone I want. And that's the beauty of it- you're the youngest man of the high house of Haillenarte. While I may outrank you, I'm hardly of noble birth like you.

I will earn your trust, don't worry terribly about producing it for me.

Edited 2016-12-29 06:25 (UTC)

[small droplets of moisture still cling to francel's eyelashes as he lowers his gaze to his lap. it's hard for him to believe that aymeric is really this good — this handsome, this pure, this sympathetic to his concerns.

how could all of this happen to someone like him?]

...I am sure all who look upon you find it hard to believe you are not of noble birth.

[almost as if to emphasize his feelings, francel reaches out to take one of aymeric's hands with both of his own. he bringsaymeric's knuckles to his lips; he presses his mouth against the hard bone, softly, and then slides slowly over the back of aymeric's hand, like some servant at worship before his master's feet. slowly, francel pulls back and looks aymeric squarely in the eyes.]

If... if you are certain that you want this... then that is all I need to hear.

By The Fury's grace, I promise you that it is.

[electricity courses through his spine with the kisses and the innocent look on the sweet blond's face. Is there a man of purer soul in all of Ishgard? A gentler one?

He bit his lip unconsciously as he pressed his thumb to the lips that were already so close to his hand.

... As they were interrupted awkwardly by a basket of bread and a generous rammican of butter. Urrix retreated wordlessly, eyes averted and head bowed. Aymeric had to chuckle] Look at as, I was so swept up that is forgotten entirely where we were.

Edited 2016-12-29 06:52 (UTC)

[francel jolts apart from aymeric to make room for the bread and butter.

immediately, he suspects that lord urrix has been lurking in the shadows for some time now, and probably heard everything — nevertheless, if an inquisitor can be trusted with anything it is to keep secrets, and so francel decides that it won't do any good to worry about what the man may or may not have heard.]

Y-Yes... I apologize...

[red-cheeked, francel attempts to take up some bread and butter it.]

...It tastes good...

All is well Francel, we've been served Master Urrix's bread.

[Aymeric, too, is blushing a little about that. He jokes his joke helps them surface from that mood somewhat. He takes up bread and butter of his own, smiling as he smells the sweetness of the beer and honey in it. Master Urrix was a genius. He took a bite, unable to mask the food bliss on his face. He swallows his bite before he speaks]

I could just eat this as my entire meal. Basket after basket, and be delighted.

[francel laughs at the expression of glee on aymeric's face — he looks like an especially satisfied fox — and he chews and swallows slowly, more content to dine on aymeric's every little smile than on the bread and butter.]

I should like to see that! Ser Aymeric, devourer of worlds. And baskets of bread.

But mind you don't ruin your appetite for our omelettes later. [halone help him, he sounds like a wife.]

I couldn't if I wanted to. [He admitted with slight shame.]

If you were to ask me at any point in the day if I would like to eat, even if it were directly after dinner, I would happily agree to it.

[Aymeric took a slightly larger than polite bite, having some difficulty with his enthusiasm.]

Surely you have a more restrained appetite with your slim frame. [he said this as he picked up his champagne glass to rewet his palate.]

Well... I have always had more passion for dessert than for dinner.

[that's not really why he's so thin. sometimes francel forgets to eat unless he has his knights to remind him — and other times, like now, he would rather watch aymeric eat than do any eating. he forgets the half-eaten loaf in his hand as he watches aymeric chew and swallow.]

I oft heard it said that you had few indulgences, and that you preferred to dine on soldier's fare... I never dreamed I would see you like this.

[so gluttonous... so vulnerable. so cute.]

Ah, pray do not misconstrue me. I am not disappointed. On the contrary.

[He grinned as he buttered his second piece.]

As I said, I usually only come here on very special occasions. But my responsibilities have changed with the end of the war. And our soldiers are no longer starving as they did in our most difficult days-

[His head snaps up to look from the bread] Not to say that I don't consider this a special occasion!

[a slight pause] On the contrary?

[francel laughs and serenely continues his first loaf.]

On the contrary... I enjoy seeing you at such ease.

[he could watch aymeric devour three whole baskets of bread if the lord commander stayed this happy the whole time.

it's just then that lord urrix drops by again, completely unannounced, like some sort of voidsent vampire materializing from the shadows. "your mushroom omelette, lord francel," urrix purrs, setting it on the table before him — perhaps he's come by with a distraction because he's assumed from the slow way that francel's been eating that the lordling isn't too fond of the bread and butter.

the ex-inquisitor bows in aymeric's direction, maintaining steely eye contact. "your salmon will be just another moment, ser aymeric."]

I suppose I am at ease, aren't I? You are easy to be relaxed around, then. [he takes a thankfully small bite so that he can speak to Urrix without being too rude-]

For your cooking? I will wait as long as it takes. [He offers him a smile and a raising of his glass.]

Look at it, Francel. It's beautiful. Master Urrix is truly an artist.

[urrix laughs the way one might expect a serial killer to laugh, but the man's peculiarities are beginning to grow on francel. he smiles, bows, and takes his leave; francel waves after him, then turns back to aymeric.]

It does look delicious, does it not? I almost wish I could have an artist preserve its image.

[he takes up his knife and fork and begins digging into it. the young lord finds his eyes fluttering and closing shut, as if because he has to brace himself against the wondrous flavor.]

...My word, this is marvelous! I never knew mushrooms to have such harmony!

He's picked the best in Eorzea, I know for certain. Had I the wealth of Dzemael, I would hire him to cook all of my meals... Even this champagne was hand-picked by him! We are blessed that he found his calling at the stove.

[Aymeric sits back, watching Francel as he eats. The mid-morning light reflected through the snow comes through the window, desaturating their small world in the most picturesque way. He watches the light fall across Francel's round cheeks and emphasize his delicate features. He really did have rather large eyes, didn't he? It all made for a portrait of a maiden, really.]

[While he was lost in thought, Urrix brought his plate, setting it down with such weightlessness that the food could have been an illusion. Four handsome halved muffins were opulently dressed with poached eggs and salmon with a generous amount of hollandaise. Directly next to these lovely stacks were a fillet of salmon, wrapped and lightly baked with pancetta and hollandaise. springs of watercress were laid atop.]

["The Lord Commander should never want for his next meal. Do you agree?" He gave the widest smile he could, still looking like a wolf with a rabbit in its maw. his smile pressed at the bags beneath his eyes that he had had as long Aymeric could remember.]

["Tell me what you think, Ser Aymeric. I am considering for new week's menu."]

I hope they canonize you, Urrix.

Francel, would you care to try this with me?

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