The Next Morning (Francel & Aymeric)

[heiresy]

[The crisp morning brought out the flush in Aymeric's cheeks as his hot breath hung in the air in front of him. He smoothed his coat and brushed a piece of hair from his face before he rapped on the House Haillenarte's front door. He supposed that he could have sent a courier to deliver the costume piece, but that would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?

He was a little confused with his actions, but nevertheless. It was too late to turn back now... And it wasn't as if he was afraid or that this could be a bad idea...

He greeted the surprised manservant at the door with a warm smile and a politely worded request for Lord Francel.]

Comments

[haillenarte]

[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."]

[heiresy]

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.

[haillenarte]

[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!

[heiresy]

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?

[haillenarte]

Saint Urrix! It has a reassuring ring to it.

[aymeric's order looks so picturesque that francel is tempted to order a plate for himself. as things stand, though, he settles for blinking up at aymeric, surprised — and then he acquiesces to the offer.]

I would love to have a bite. Aah.

[francel opens up his mouth and closes his eyes, a little pink slip of tongue visible past his straight white teeth.]

[heiresy]

[Aymeric has to steady himself. He shames himself for his immediate thought about something else to put in his mouth. He wedges off a piece with the side of his fork. It flakes easily- and he places it into francel's waiting mouth.]

[he cuts a piece for himself too to share in the sensation.]

Magnificent, truly. [he looks serenely at his plate, glancing back at Francel. It's hard to truly take his eyes off him.] What do you think, my dear?

[He catches himself off guard with the pet name, quickly busying himself with his eggs.]

[haillenarte]

Mmmm.

[serenely unaware of aymeric's impure thoughts, francel chews slowly, relishing both the taste of the salmon in his mouth and the sweet sound of aymeric's pet name for him; he has a little smile on his lips by the time he swallows and opens his eyes.]

...It tastes the way you make me feel.

[is there really a higher compliment between lovers?]

[heiresy]

[Aymeric bites his lip, pushing his thoughts down further. they'd be no good to him right now.]

And it is exquisite.

[He was at a small loss for words. He was caught off guard by this. hit doubly by Francel's innocent allure and his heartfelt feelings. He didn't want to leave his young lover in the dark, so he just smiled as he rubbed his calf against Francel's. It was a bit immature as far as flirting went-

But it would suffice. He ate just a bit more quickly than he meant to. He knew they were trying to catch the theater, but part of him wanted to just take Francel directly to his home. Which reminded him of another... small... issue]

Should I tell your father properly that I am courting you?

[haillenarte]

[at that, francel promptly chokes on his champagne.

at least that probably helps dismiss some of aymeric's less-than-innocent leanings! by the time he resurfaces, panting and wheezing, he's half-hiding his face behind his hands and looking... um, rather hot and bothered.]

Y-You were courting me?!

[heiresy]

[Aymeric puts his own glass down, his face flushes completely in a rare display.]

You couldn't tell?! [He leans forward to pat Francel's back through that coughing and sputtering.]

[haillenarte]

W-Well, I did not think it in — in quite those words —

[stuttering and stammering like a nervous preschooler, francel finally takes enough patting on the back to hold up one hand in indication of his good health. i'm alright. please don't worry. as bad an idea as it seems, he takes another sip of champagne to soothe his sore throat, and then puts the glass back.]

I... I suppose... my father might like to know, but... I feel he has never been terribly interested in my affairs...

[heiresy]

Surely he would be interested in your courtship.

[He leans back to give francel space again. he sips his champagne and takes another few bites, contemplating.]

Regardless, it would be strange for a man in my position to act as if my actions could go unnoticed. I must live my life publicly, whether I want to or not. I've simply grown used to the idea, is all.

[haillenarte]

Would... would it not be better for a man of your position to take a wife?

[out of nothing more than a desire to occupy his hands, francel anxiously butters a second loaf of bread, suddenly unable to meet aymeric's sky blue eyes.]

Of... of course I very much enjoy being... being courted by you. I... like you very much. But, being in the public eye... would this not constitute something of a conflict of interest? Some might accuse you of being soft on House Haillenarte because of your interactions with me... and so forth.

[heiresy]

Better, perhaps. [He takes a slow breath.] But not a choice that I am particularly interested in.

[He thinks a moment.] Were I to court your sister, I doubt that very many people would accuse me of such a thing. It's aspirational to marry into the high houses anyroad. Who could blame me as a bastard with an empty manor?

[He knew he went a bit too cold there, but what choice did he really have? He wanted to move back to the more important reasons.]

Most of all, Francel, I am acting as I desire. We are all freer men than we were. I see not why I shouldn't benefit as well. I am pleased that you touched on my next question. You accept my courtship?

[haillenarte]

I... of course I do! I can think of naught I want more. Only...

[francel hesitates, and finally puts his bread knife down.]

Only... I feel afraid to take your outstretched hand.

[heiresy]

Please tell me why, so that I may be of some use.

[he picks up his empty glass to hold it nervously in both hands.]

[haillenarte]

Because...

[it is with a great effort that francel manages to keep his voice from shaking.]

...because the last time I wanted anything this badly, it was taken from me...!

[heiresy]

[He loses his air, his shoulders falling in sympathy. He places his glass on the table to take his hands.]

No one can take me from you, Francel. I won't allow it.

[He squeezes his hands, then presses them together as if in prayer, clasped between his own.]

I will do all that is within my power.

[haillenarte]

...Can you... can you promise me that? That you will not...

[francel squeezes back, but tightly this time, like a desperate man clinging for dear life.]

I... I know this is sudden... and that we have not begun this courtship long. But I...

...I don't wish to be left alone again. That's... that's all I ask...

[heiresy]

[He considers saying something about Ishgard having to behead him but figures it's probably thematically scary. He takes a breath]

I, Aymeric de Borel, Lord Commander and Speaker of the House of Lords, promise that will not leave you alone. That is my most solemn oath.

[Urrix comes by to refill their glasses, almost startling Aymeric.

"He's a man of his word, Lordling Haillenarte. Rest easy and eat before it goes cold." He says this with no ill intent to be found on his face or tone.]

[haillenarte]

[despite the fact that he knows that urrix bears him no ill will, it's still francel's instinct to jump apart whenever the owner of the dungeon comes around; he slips his hands out from aymeric's as fast as he can.]

A-Ah... yes, I understand!

[he musters an apologetic smile, both for lord urrix and to ser aymeric.]

It would be a terrible shame to let such excellent food go to waste...

[heiresy]

[Aymeric does as Francel is told as well and gets to eating his sumptuous brunch.]

We will have plenty of time to discuss this at my home after the play.

[He says this so, so casually as he continues to eat with his balance between efficiency and luxuriating in the flavors. Still, he's a pretty fast eater, demolishing his plate without effort.]

[haillenarte]

Y-Yes...



[the rest of the meal passes with pleasant conversation about how delicious and perfectly prepared the eggs are (and francel closes his eyes in food-pleasure likely too many times for aymeric's comfort). urrix dons his preferred mask, that of the intimidating inquisitor, and arranges aymeric's payment with the same relish as one might expect him to arrange murders.

francel decides he likes the man.

by the time they are done eating and back out on the street again it is a little warmer, at least by ishgardian standards, but all the same, francel snuggles up to aymeric's arm with a comfortable intimacy.]

Shall we to the theater, then, my lord?

[heiresy]

It is time already, isn't it?

[He looks fondly down at his young lover, guiding him to the play house. It is a marvelous feat of architecture, as is everything in Ishgard- But the playhouse especially so in that it wasn't terrible large but it's acoustics and design were superb.

Aymeric took Francel up to the Lincoln seats. The guarding attendant seemed surprised to see Aymeric. He clearly wasn't that regular of a patron with his duties. The balcony held only four seats, all empty.]

Wherever you will, Lord Francel.

[haillenarte]

I am... unsure. The last time I visited the theater, I must have been a boy... it all looks so different as a man grown.

[granted, an additional twenty or thirty ilms of height would make anything look different. fortunately, this is where having wildwood eyes comes in handy; it doesn't matter at all to francel where he sits, so he takes the most comfortable, plush-looking chair.]

I was thinking — [oh. oh no. he shouldn't finish that thought.]