dutyroulette | The Next Morning (Francel & Aymeric)

[francel makes himself comfortable in his own seat, taking aymeric's hand and letting their laced fingers rest between them. below them — in the non-balcony seats — other nobles are filing in to see the show; once everyone is seated, francel supposes, the show will begin.

that gives him the opportunity, though, to lean in and whisper directly into aymeric's ear:]

Later, I will do whatever you please...

[he pulls back, smirking.]

But for now, let us enjoy the performance of this talented company.

[His breath hitches and he turns to Francel with a lustful look in his eye.

The house lights dim, and Aymeric is no longer able to see Francel's face properly. As the show begins he tries to concentrate, but finds it difficult as his imagination interrupts the dialogue over and over. Intermission catches him completely off guard.]

It can't be over-

[francel, for his part, seems to spend the entire first act spellbound. his hand does not move from within aymeric's, no — but he never takes his eyes off the leading man, he gasps at appropriate surprises, and he laughs at appropriate jokes. he's about to turn to aymeric and gush over how adorable the hero and heroine are when the man's utterance catches him off-guard.]

Hmm? Well, of course not! It's only intermission.

[considering that the nobles beneath them are filing out to use lavatories and fix their makeup and other such things, francel hesitates a moment before leaning in to give aymeric a quick peck on the cheek.]

Would you like me to go out and fetch anything for us, dearest?

[Aymeric presses his hand to his mouth. He needed to be more careful. Saying such stupid things would lose their charm quickly.

He gives francel what he hopes is a charming smile, standing and stretching. "Dearest", eh?]

I will go with you. It has been a while since I have mingled during intermission.

[He places a hand on Francel's upper back, leading them down into the lobby.]

Are you enjoying yourself, Lord Francel?

Oh, yes, absolutely! I did not expect to be so invested in this play! But Lord Ilvaux is such a very dashing man, and his love interest — the maidservant, Hatione, I think — such a charming woman! I do so wonder how he will escape his betrothment to that — whatever her name was. The brunette. If 'twere me, I would propose marriage to Lady Echette instead. She is Ilvaux's childhood friend, you see, and seeking to escape a betrothment of her own — it would be such a simple matter to arrange a faux union...

[on and on francel prattles about his speculations regarding the play's outcome — likely very convenient for aymeric, since he hasn't been paying attention. now that they've entered the throngs of nobles buying food and drink, however, they've become public spectacle.

"is that ser aymeric?" one woman says, quite loudly, to another. "by the fury, who is that at his side?"]

Edited 2016-12-30 05:37 (UTC)

[Aymeric was trying his damnedest to listen to Francel and ignore the commentary. By the Fury he was. His ears were too keen and the talking was too sharp. He decides to turn to her and her company.]

Good afternoon, my lady. I am surprised that you don't recognize House Haillenarte's youngest son. May I acquaint you to Lord Francel? [His hand slides to his shoulder, pressing his weight into Francel into an even more difficult-to-discern set of body language.]

Pardon my brevity, but I would like a refreshment before the show resumes.

[It strikes him that he probably knew her name and could have done a proper introduction.

But what use was that? Such a charmless woman would make a terrible friend. And a woman would make a useless lover for Francel- Anyway.]

I heard a shipment of exotic beastmen spirits has come in from Gridania. I've never had anything of the sort in my life, have you?

[He says, just barely artlessly changing the topic.]

Edited 2016-12-30 05:52 (UTC)

[francel, for his part, seems taken aback by the entire exchange, not least because he didn't hear the comment that prompted it in the first place. he doesn't terribly mind not being introduced to the sharp-tongued lady, but he manages only a weak smile before aymeric sort of... whisks him away.

oh well. things to talk about some other time.

it doesn't entirely surprise him that few people in ishgard recognize his face.]

I, er — [what was that about? he almost wants to ask...] — B-Beastmen... spirits? Do the Ixal craft beers, now? Or is it the Qiqirn? I suppose the Qiqirn would make more sense, though I thought there were more Qiqirn traders in Ul'dah and Limsa Lominsa...

Ixal beers! I would like to try that. It is a Qiqirn made liquor. You've jogged my memory. [he offers a slight smile.] I suppose our less treacherous trade routes come through Gridania, so they could have been rerouted.

[Aymeric's mind was still in that last conversation. Why did he do that? That was definitely weird. And rude. He orders the liquor for them, his mind still elsewhere. He knows that he's coming off strangely. He presses the glass of clear liquid into Francel's hand, trying to come back into the present.]

[An absent minded sip of the firewater does it]

Oh, Fury- that burns.

[having already put aymeric's strange parading of him out of his mind, francel looks at his glass and sniffs it delicately, pursing his lips as he takes a sip. he wrinkles his nose rather cutely and squirms as it goes down.]

Ooh, it does! I'm none too sure that I like this...

Novel, sure... But I think I prefer something sweeter. [He takes Francel's drink gently from his hand and sets the two glasses on the bar with an apology. The bartender nodded and seemed to offer some polite, cheerful apology in turn, putting up two pre-made cocktails onto the bar. Aymeric turns back with the champagne flutes of lavender liquid with twists of lime peel hanging delicately from the lip.

An attendant comes by with a chime, and the people slowly start walking back to their seats. Aymeric tipped his head towards Francel with a smile. He put the glass into Francel's hand as naturally as before, wanting to free his hand to hold him again.

He glances towards the women still gossiping as he places his left hand on Francel's lower back.]

[inwardly relieved that aymeric, too, likes sweeter drinks, francel sips happily at his new cocktail with no further complaints about the liquor burning his chest.

he does, however, stiffen somewhat at aymeric's touch to his lower back. not because the touch is unwanted, no — but merely because he wonders if this isn't a little too intimate for public display.]

A-Ah... Aymeric? Is that not rather... bold?

[the women across the room have lapsed into a stunned silence as they follow the line of aymeric's arm to francel's back; they conceal their open mouths behind lace fans and arched brows.]

[His momentarily very serious expression melts into a joyous fox-like expression. He pulls Francel a bit closer, glimpsing back over his shoulder one last time.]

Between lovers I find this to be rather mild.

[He guides Francel back up the stairs toward their seating.]

[oh, the things that smile does to francel's poor little heart... whatever worries the lordling has are dismissed in an instant as he practically melts into aymeric's side, blond hair fanning out against aymeric's coat.]

...You really are such a perfect man.

[well. maybe not so perfect to the belles of high society, now that those garrulous ladies (and quite a few foppish dandies) have seen them canoodling. but at any rate francel happily reclaims his seat beside aymeric, ready to watch the rest of the show.]

And you are the sweetest lover I have ever had the joy of courting.

[He wonders if he's trying to set his lately uninteresting little public persona fully ablaze. Did he crave this attention without realizing it?

As he sits he moves his arm to casually place his hand on Francel's knee.]

To be honest with you, I have never courted anyone before.

[objectively, it could be worse. tongues would wag so much more if aymeric were seen with someone like emmanellain. francel, at least, has the benefit of being known as a proper and pious man — albeit one with few accomplishments to his name.

but thoughts of gossip and controversy are far from francel's mind as he looks in surprise at the hand on his knee — then, smiling shyly, he places his hand atop aymeric's.]

Never? But — Ser Aymeric, surely you must know how fervently you are desired by... certain men and women in our fair city. Have you... truly never felt tempted towards another?

Tempted, of course. But I've never found anyone worth my while. I have never met a man who has captured me so. I have danced and taken others to bed, but...

[He looks down at their hands at as the house lights dim again.]

You have changed things for me.

[As the room goes dark to their unadjusted eyes, Aymeric leans forward to place a kiss on his lips.]

[oh.

oh.

the second act starts with a musical number that francel really should watch and listen to, given that his beloved lord ilvaux is singing and dancing on stage, but this kiss from aymeric is far more important, and he closes his eyes to savor every second, as if it's their first. aymeric's lips are wonderfully warm, and it takes all the self-control that francel has in his body to stay perfectly still as those soft, plush lips pull away.]

...I do not understand what it is that draws you to me. But I am... so very drawn to you, Aymeric, I...

[simultaneously greedy and innocent, francel ignores the voices and the sound of strings from below in favor of leaning close for another kiss.]

[Aymeric reciprocates the second with enthusiasm, allowing the music to color his own love story.

He pulls after a moment, placing a fingers softly to Francel's lips. ]

I think it may bother you if you miss the handsome lord's song. We can resume at my home.

...Your song is sweeter.

[but on that lustful note, francel sighs and makes himself comfortable leaning on aymeric's shoulder to watch the play.

lord ilvaux and his many romantic woes distract him from his pressing lust for aymeric soon enough; eventually, he gets back to being engrossed in the comedic courtship of ilvaux and hatione. in the end, ilvaux does not fake-marry echette the way francel had hoped — instead, it turns out that hatione has been a noble lady in disguise all along, which rather defeats the whole purpose of the play being about a lord and a maidservant...]

[Aymeric places his head upon Francel's, finding it easier to pay attention now.

Sadly, there's hardly anything that controversial in the theaters. He had heard of some nobleman writing a ballad about the dragonsong war, but surely they would be waiting many, many moons for that. He was a little curious who would play him in it...]

Did you enjoy it, Lord Francel?

[He asks with a small smile as he finishes the last drop of his drink. He sets it down on the tiny seat-side table. He offers his hand to Francel to assist him in standing.]

[francel stirs as if from a long slumber, holding tightly to aymeric's hand and allowing the older man to pull him to his feet. the drinks were rather more strong than he was expecting, also; feeling vaguely dizzy, he continues leaning on aymeric's arm as they walk out.]

...I was rather hoping Hatione would not turn out to be a noblewoman in disguise. But — yes, aside from that point, I thought it was a lovely show.

Oh, I wonder if I should speak to the actor who played Lord Ilvaux...

A terribly safe choice, wasn't it? [Aymeric gives him a momentary knowing sideways smile.]

[He pulls Francel up much more easily than he thought he would. He is still unused to Francel's light frame.]

It is not unusual to pay compliments to the actors. [Aymeric is very slightly tipsy, his constitution much higher than his partner's.] Shall we find him?

Edited 2017-01-02 02:21 (UTC)

With the both of us so dizzy?

[francel laughs — at least he's self-aware enough for it.]

Oh, he will think us a pair of terrible drunkards! Let us not, let us not. I am much too shy.

[He pulls Francel in close against his side, wrapping his arm around the back of Francel's middle.]

Are you sure? He likely deal with worse.... Though I am eager to take you home.

[He walks them down to towards the lobby, firing serious looks to onlookers.

[being so close to aymeric is absolutely ruining francel's sense of propriety. he giggles again, breathlessly, and — heedless of the fact that they're now in the heart of the throng — leans forward and talks to aymeric in a flirtatious voice.]

Will you be angry if I go to say hello?

[his nose touches aymeric's ear when he croons:]

I love a jealous man...

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