Aymeric finished writing his comments at the bottom of one piece of parchment, before putting it to one side, and pulling the next towards him, switching his focus from military strategy to economic concerns.
His throat itched a second before he had to raise a hand to his mouth to catch the dry cough that rattled around the study. Hm smothered a second, reaching out for the pot of tea that he kept at one corner of the desk, and realised as soon as he picked up the handle that it was empty, the last dredges drained with his previous cup.
The Twelve appeared to be smiling at him however, as there was a knock at the door, and a familiar Hyur appeared in the crack, “Tea?”
“By the Fury, yes.” He croaked out, only realising now how long he had been in his study. He leaned back, quill dropping from his hand, closing his eyes to rub them, and ease his hands out of their cramped states.
The sound of china against wood, glugging water, and the aroma of Coerthan tea leaves hit his senses, and he reached out, eyes a little blurry, to take the cup from her and gulping down the first few sips, caring not for the scalding temperature.
“No birch syrup?” Her tone was fond, if teasing, “You must be thirsty.”
“Parched.” He agreed, leaning back in his chair.
The warmth of her body came in close as she leaned on one of the armrests, one hand going to the back of his neck, lazily stroking up and down, brushing his hair ends about. Between that and the warm cup of tea in his hand, Aymeric was most content to close his eyes and lean back into the comfort.
He went through three cups of tea before Iscara leaned in, her head resting at the back of his shoulder, nose just brushing his neck, her breath warm and tickling, “Better?”
“Much.”
“Olbont says you’ve been here since the seventh bell of the morning.”
“Do I want to know what the bells tolls now?”
“Probably not. But it’s certainly late enough for you to be done for the day. More than a day, in fact.”
“Far be it for me to cast aspersions on the one who has graced me with salvation this hour, but you are known throughout Eorzea for working all hours of the day and night.”
She chuckled, “At least I get out the house. Change things up a bit. Take a break every now and then. You’ll meld to the chair before long.”
He couldn’t help but groan an agreement, “A change of pace then. The sparring grounds?”
“That’s one option.”
It was the tone that shot straight through him, hitting low and hard, as Aymeric opened his eyes to look at her, but didn’t get further than the edge of the armrest. She was wearing that dress again. The one in pale blue, that looked so elegant with its high neck and silver edging, until she moved and it revealed slits all the way up. Of course, sitting down, as she was now, they were almost impossible to keep closed.
She was still hovering at his shoulder, midnight eyes dancing at him, playful and suggestive. Suddenly, he couldn’t think of much else.
“I believe I would be very interested in seeing what option you would pick for us tonight, my dearest.”
Iscara smiled at him, finally moving in those few inches more so that she could seal their lips together
Princess of Dragons 