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

[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.]

[heiresy]

[He gives a soft laugh] Really? I had thought that the young men of the High Houses could go to the theater whenever they pleased. I don't believe I've set foot in here since before I took office.

[He sits next to Francel and leans over.]

Mm? What were you thinking?

[haillenarte]

My... my apologies, I...

[francel... covers his face in shame.]

I meant to say that — that if the portraits on the posters hold true, then the man playing the protagonist of this comedy is a very handsome actor indeed. But, ah... I don't mean to think such things in your presence, Aymeric, I...

Y-You must think me a terrible lech.

[heiresy]

[His face went from concern to bewildered laughter]

Oh, Francel, truly? [he places a hand on Francel's thigh. He lowers his voice to a whisper, though the hall was loud enough with the murmur of the nobles.]

I could show you a lech, if that concerns you so. We could be leches together.

[haillenarte]

[the blond frowns — or rather, he pouts, fixing aymeric with reproachful blue eyes that have likely won him many plates of pudding in the past. he doesn't even try to swat aymeric's hand away, though, and instead squeezes his thighs together as if to guide aymeric closer to where he should be.]

Aymeric! Not here!

[...implying anywhere else is fine???]

[heiresy]

[he laughs and pats his leg, going to withdraw his hand, but not before running it a bit further up.]

Mine apologies. [he sat back in his seat offering his open hand instead.] I can wait.

[haillenarte]

[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.

[heiresy]

[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-