dutyroulette | The Next Morning (Francel & Aymeric)

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.

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.]

[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?

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.

[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.

[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???]

[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.

[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.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject