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Coerthas was quiet. The trees did not creak in the winds, animals had withdrawn, and even the snow made little noise as it fell in heavy flakes. One would call it peaceful. A time to stop, take in a breath, and allow the crisp air to clear your soul. But the silence held a note of tension in spite of it.
A lone figure stood atop a high, spindly branch, surveying the land amidst clouds of steamed breath. A low rumble and sharp crack suddenly shook the perch and a silver head snapped to the west. Hands covered in brilliant scarlet curled in a squeal of leather and metal, followed by a grunt, before long legs bent and then pushed. The branch gave with a snap below the Azure Dragoon as he launched himself into the air in a blur of color and growled curses and landed below in a spray of snow.
His feet carried him quickly, foregoing the trees above to charge through the loose drifts towards his target. The rumbling grew as he neared until the ground beneath him began to shake violently. Small hills rose and fell like the sea, sending debris and trees tumbling in a way they should not. A sure sign he was closing in.
When the trees at last parted, his steps slowed and stopped at the edge of a large crater. A raw, jagged thing, covered in boulders that easily dwarfed even himself. Boulders that were exploding in sprays on dust and gravel, one by one. Estinien braced against another small quake as a particularly large one was lifted and slammed into the ground. Once, twice, then stopped. He waited a moment for the dust to settle down before taking one last leap to the uneven bottom of the crater.
A soft whisper could be heard once silence fell again, drawing him around to find the woman he sought. The Warrior of Light stood with both hands pressed to the other side, head bowed as she continued to whisper. Not a single acknowledgement was given.
Estinien sighed and reached out, only to freeze at her voice raising. “Leave me,” she rasped, shoulders hunching, but staying where she was.
“No,” he replied flatly and clamped a hand on her shoulder.
She jerked away from him and stumbled back, head turned to the side. “Please don’t do this.”
“Do what?” he snapped, stepping after her. “Stop you from doing something more foolish than this?” His hand swept at the destruction. “I’m not so thick to lack the most basic understanding of magic, little mage.” The woman cringed and he took the moment, lunging forward to trap her against him with an arm clamped around her waist and her jaw in his hand. “Even the Warrior of Light has her limits. You cannot keep this up.”
Red-rimmed emeralds blazed up in mad grief when he forced her to meet his gaze. She was absolutely filthy with dust and dirt, making the clean streaks left from her tears all the more obvious. “What does it matter?” she whispered, blinking slowly. “Tis the least I deserve after I let him-”
“ Don’t !” The word came out a feral growl and he tighten his grip enough to make her gasp. “Don’t you even dare try to blame yourself! You did everything possible-”
“You don’t know that!”
“And you do?”
The tears welled up and she closed her eyes, forcing a few free. “What do you want, Estinien?” she asked quietly, ignoring his question.
Accepting her dismissal of the subject, he sighed and released her jaw. “To bring you back.”
“And if I refuse?”
Without hesitation, he scooped the woman up and slung her over his shoulder, careful to avoid any points on his pauldron. “That is not an option,” he said over her outraged squeal and sudden struggle against his arm.
“Put me down, you bastard!” she screamed, vainly trying to kick at his chest.
“No.”
“Estin-IEN!” The dragoon ignored her, crouched down, and jumped away in an explosion of snow and profanities.
She gave up. The Warrior of Light hung limply over Estinien’s shoulder, no longer fighting. Tears ran down into her hairline as she swayed and blankly stared at his worn armour. What was left of her anger had fizzled out. With nothing to distract her, the aching knot in her chest became overwhelming.
Why had he not just left her? What use was a Warrior of Light with no light? A healer that could not save a life? All the faith he had placed on her and she had failed him . And now he was gone. Never again would she see his bright smiles, hear his encouraging words, or feel one of his warm embraces.
A sudden jerk of her captor smacked her face against his back, ending all thoughts with a smarting nose. She cried out, trying to brace herself, only to have him duck down and dump her off. The movement sent her head spinning, barely able to take in jewel like blues and dark gold. She closed her eyes to the nauseating sight and let her head fall back onto whatever plush surface was under her.
“By the Fury, Estinien! Where did you find her?”
Oh, gods, she knew that voice. Hands were on her face, pushing back hair and turning her head. Large and hot, such a drastic difference from the sting of cold wind. But she pulled away, curling in on herself.
“Best I not say,” Estinien said, sounding far. “The others will want word. I’ll return.” A door opened, letting in a gust of freezing air. “Take care of her.” The wind cut off, followed by a heavy sigh from her new would-be captor.
Again, a hand was on her, touching her shoulder hesitantly. “Full glad am I to see you whole, my friend.”
The words drove the shame in like a hammer. Whole only at the sacrifice of a most noble man. The knot twisted and she choked on it, struggling to pull a breath in. It-it just couldn’t be! She had already lost so many. Any more and-
“ Dearest hero .”
The pleading tone forced her eyes open, meeting Aymeric’s glacial blue under drawn brows. She regretted it, taking in the still healing evidence of the Vault and clear exhaustion upon his face as he knelt. His left cheek had a blooming bruise to match the ones under his eyes, feathery locks standing almost on end, and hard lines along his mouth.
His expression softened for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, before drawing thin. “I-” Aymeric began, only to stop and grimace in pain.
She reached out without realizing it, freezing at the soft glow of healing magic on her finger tips. Panic screeched up through her and she gasped, drawing back into herself. She could still feel it. Hot blood on her hands, her face, pouring what meager amount of aether she had left to seal the wound. A final plea for a smile. Soft blue changed to glacial, gaping hole to long gashes, fingers breaking and rehealing, and searing burns. Trapped helplessly in the Echo and being forced to watch every lash and blow, and his stubborn refusal to say a word. Image after image, twisting to new faces, new pain.
The sudden feel of arms around her startled her, flinching and jerking her head back when they lifted her up. Aymeric shushed her panicked muttering and took her place before pulling her across his lap to cradle her. “Tis over, my dear,” he whispered as he curled around her, taking comfort as much as he gave.
The white mage gave into his embrace, fisting handfuls of his shirt and burying her face in his shoulder. His heat seeped into her, chasing away the chill and easing the invisible vice on her chest. The pain poured out, hot tears soaking into the blue fabric, and his hands coaxing her sorrows free. On and on until there was nothing left.
She finally slumped fully against him with a heavy sigh, releasing his shirt to absently smooth the wrinkles. The pain was still there, just behind her heart, but her mind was clear once more. His gentle hand took her chin and tipped it back, the other brushing her hair back from her face. She forced gritty eyes open and blinked heavily when they shifted to cup her jaw and wipe at her cheeks. So very careful.
“Better?” Aymeric asked quietly, corners of his mouth tipping up slightly. She managed a nod, sighing and leaning into his touch. It was easy to relax with him. How he managed to take care of her while so hurt himself…
The thought jarred the woman and she sat up. “By the Twelve,” she yelped, trying to slide from his lap through their tangled limbs. “Aymeric, I’ll hurt you!”
He grunted, not letting go and making her stumble back into him. “I am well enough,” he said lowly with another grimace and steadied her with hands on her waist. “It is you I worry for.”
“I-I…” The words were lost as she thought back over the past day. She had left his office so quickly without a word, reliving his torture through the Echo breaking what sanity she had left after the Vault. Hot shame crept up her throat at the thought of how worried Alphinaud and Tataru must be. She scrubbed the remaining wetness from her face and sighed, before pressing a hand to her still aching chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I can’t say what took over me, but I just…”
“Understandable.” Emerald returned to darkening blue. Aymeric swallowed heavily and pulled her closer. “What I would not give to have kept that memory from you,” he murmured, “My foolish actions lead us down this path-”
“No,” she said firmly and took his face in her hands. “He’s your...father.” The word felt like acid on her tongue. “If there was anyone that could reach him, it would be you alone. But to have done this to you… He is beyond hope.”
It was wrong what they had done. Not because he was the Commander of their knights, but that he was such a pure and good soul… To his only son . Aether tingled at her fingertips without a thought as she smoothed them over his bruised cheek. The light glow sank into his skin, pulling a sharp breath from him, but cleared the ugly mark.
As soon as she eased the aether back, her vision swam. Oh, that had been a very poor idea. Aymeric was up as soon as her balance wavered, easing her to lay on what she now realized was a chaise.
“I see I’ll have to do as our friend recommended,” he said quietly, tone rough as he avoided her gaze. “Rest. I shall fetch something to warm you.”
The warrior tried to protest amidst the room slowly steadying, but growled at the sound of a door closing. Frustration of her own welled up. No longer fueled with frantic emotions, her exhaustion was all the more obvious. Aether a feeble whisper, muscles aching, and covered in shallow scratches filled with filth. A pathetic mess.
With her host gone, she took his words to heart; letting herself sink into the cushions and eyeing the odd combination of what she assumed to be his quarters. What had once been a room of extravagance was now one of cozy comfort. All the furniture was simple and well used and covered in evidence of his life. Stray rolls of parchment, stacks of tomes, the scent of armour polish and sandalwood, and even what appeared to be a clumsily made doll.
It was charming and brought a slight smile to her face.
A click perked her up, tilted her head back towards the sound, only to squeal and huddle against a sudden howling burst of cold air. It ended quickly, followed by a growled curse she knew all too well.
“He’s stepped out for a moment,” the hero said quietly, turning to watch the Azure Dragoon, simple clothes now replacing his signature armour, step away from the tall glass windows.
Estinien scoffed and strode to her, dropping a large pack nearby before kneeling down. “He best have food with him,” he said gruffly and narrowed his eyes in scrutiny when she huffed. “I see you have calmed.”
Shame heated her cheeks and she looked away. “I have my wits, yes,” she admitted. His eyes burned into her and she struggled against the urge to squirm.
His rough fingers on her jaw forced her to face him again, locking her in place, and he leaned into her space. Night blue wavering with emotions she couldn’t place. “You daft woman,” he said softly before sealing his lips to hers.
The kiss seared through her as he took his time in tasting her, letting his own fears pour through. Hands moved to cradled her face to tip her head back and his lips grew more gentle, fear turning to relief. Pressing to savor, then pulling back just an ilm. She could feel his lips twist before he spoke. “Ugh, you smell disgusting,” Estinien growled.
The sheer audacity of his words dragged a faint laugh from her. One that was followed by another and another until she could scarce breath between shrieking laughter and tears. He clamped a hand over her mouth, scowling despite his red tipped ears.
“What madness has you now?” he demanded.
The white mage pried a few fingers free, gasping in air. “Y-you! Telling someone else that they smell! The man who went near a fortnight without foregoing his armour! You had a stench strong enough to chase away gnath!”
The blush spread across his whole face, only making his scowl all the more entertaining. He covered her mouth once more. “Need I remind you I was lone shepherd to a herd of soft mages! There was never a moment to- Will you cease with that noise !”
Her giggles were impossible to contain, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging slightly to annoy him more. It did not take much to rile him and he soon grew fed up with her antics. She half expected it when he scooped her up under one arm and hauled her to him like a sack. It was barely noticeable when he stood and moved, too overtaken with the sheer joy of laughing.
The dragoon grumbled under his breath as he easily traversed the halls, throwing open another door and dumping her into something. It was a complete shock to have water suddenly come pouring down over her head, sending her into wet sputters.
Estinien barked out a laugh and danced away when she lashed out at him. “Clean yourself, little one,” he chided, backing out and closing the door behind him.
The irate woman shoved sopping hair from her face and glared at the door. Bloody git. Even if it was true. The warm water was turning the layer of dust to mud, caking her hair and robes into a heavy, wet mess. She quickly peeled her layers off, tossing the ruined leather and fabric into a pile, and then did her best to scrub it off.
It burned the numerous cuts she hadn’t realized she had, but it was centering. Watching the water gradually run clear, smelling the sharp mixture of rosemary and soap, untangling her hair. When Estinien returned, she had sank to the bottom of the tub to just sit under the spray. She lifted her head when the water turned off to find him holding out a towel with his head turned away. Ears once again red.
She took it with a roll of her eyes and climbed out. “ Now you avoid leering?” she teased and started rubbing her hair. “I never thought you to play gentleman.”
A hand grabbed the towel, snagging on her hair, and pulling her head back with a sudden yank. She squeaked, feeling lips on her neck. “Tis not to be a gentleman ,” Estinien rumbled and nipped the skin. “If I let my eyes linger, I would take you where you stand.” A shiver jolted up her spine and she bit down a whine at the intent. Tired as she was, his near feral tone had her nerves crawling with anticipation.
“Unfortunately, our host would frown upon that seeing as you are recovering.”
He let go suddenly, pushing a wad of cloth in her face, and left her reeling in sudden licks of lust and confusion. He was right, of course, but the man was an insufferable tease. She sucked in a deep breath and huffed it out, throwing a glare at his back before shaking out the bundle. It was a long white tunic. The lingering scent of pine and sheer length of it told her it was his.
The white mage pulled it on without thought, rolled up the sleeves, and went to where he was digging through the earlier pack. He absently offered her a bottle over his shoulder, ignoring her still narrowed gaze. “What is this?” she asked, taking it and peering around him.
“Master Alphinaud’s terms for my keeping you here,” the dragoon said, lips quirking slightly. “He spoke of how prone you are to taxing your aether. I am to ensure you drink it.” When her nose wrinkled in distaste, he nudged her lightly with his elbow.
It was not a pleasant thing to ingest, if she remembered correctly. Not giving her a chance to think on it more, she pulled the cork free and drained the bottle as quickly as she could. The taste was horrible, acrid with aether and bitter herbs, but the palpable feel of energy racing through her was instant. Healing magic gathered in her hand when she held it out, smiling slightly at the soft glow before clenching a fist and dissipating it. It would be enough to carry through with the small plan she had been considering.
Putting the empty glass down, she leveled a serious look at Estinien as he closed the pack up and turned to her. Brows rising, he asked, “Dare I ask what thoughts are running through your mind?”
She pulled in a breath and let it out heavily. “Aymeric,” she said plainly. “It’s obvious your chirurgeons could only do so much and with the clergy siding with Thordan, there are no healers available to him. You know him much better than I. Would he allow me to heal the rest of his injuries?”
His mouth twisted into a pensive frown, brows drawing down over eyes that flickered over her face. The emotions were unreadable. “Why?”
The question surprised her. “Wh-why wouldn’t I?” she huffed. “Not only is he essential to saving Ishgard, but he’s a good, kind man.”
“...And?”
“And what?”
Whatever Estinien was hinting at, she couldn’t grasp. Those pitch blue eyes sparked with mischief as they pierced into her. “Nothing, little one.” Turning, he put a hand on her back and began to lead her out.
The Warrior’s heels dug into the carpeting, for what little good it did, and tried to look up at him, only to have his hand jump from her back to clamp onto her head. “ Estin -”
The dragoon heaved out a sigh and continued to push her down the hall ahead of him. “Aymeric would be a fool to refuse your succor,” he muttered with an odd tone. “Tis not something you should worry over.” She nodded reluctantly against his grip, trying not to imagine how Aymeric had pulled from her touch before.
The fingers on her head dropped and grabbed the back of her tunic, pulling her to a stop. Estinien threw the nearest door open and pushed her unceremoniously in. It sent her stumbling over her own feet, reaching out to catch herself, only to have her arms caught and steadied. Her face flushed as Aymeric pulled her straight and threw an unamused look at Estinien, who swaggered in and kicked the door closed.
“She no longer smells of dung,” he said with a grin, wandering around them to a table holding steaming mugs.
“Oh, shut your gob, you arse,” she growled and immediately snapped her mouth closed when Aymeric let out a strangled noise.
Oh, hells. Her face only grew hotter, regretting her crude words. But, to her surprise, he laughed! Clear as a bell, ringing in the room and filling it. Her lips curled on their own and she huffed out a laugh as well. It was impossible not to share in it, allowing it to further soothe the pain in her chest.
He calmed after a moment and flashed her a sparkling smile. “I never knew you to have such a sharp tongue,” he said, releasing her arms and gesturing to the table. “It’s quite...refreshing.”
Estinien snorted from his seat, sprawled out and taking up far too much space. “That was but the dull side,” he teased with a smirk of his own as she sat beside him.
“For you, perhaps,” she groused, giving his leg a light kick.
A mug was pushed in front of her, filled with hot, fragrant tea. She took it gladly, cupping it in both hands and breathing in the steam. A sip revealed just a hint of birch syrup, sweetening the bitter black. The warmth filled her, from the drink, but also Aymeric’s endearing love of the sweet syrup. It had her relaxing fully into her seat and letting her eyes drift closed just to savor it.
As she went to take another, Estinien nudged her foot with his own, startling her and making her fumble her mug. She jerked a glare at him, only to blink in confusion when he scrunched his face up and flicked his eyes towards the other elezen. Her own followed and her stomach twisted to see him grimacing in pain with a hand pressed to his side. It had to be immense for him to fail at hiding it. The stubborn idiot!
Patience gone, the Warrior slammed her mug onto the table, pushed herself up, and marched around the table. Aymeric started to rise, free hand out to stop her, but she refused to give him the chance to flee. She snatched his hand up and reached out with the barest touch of aether. What she felt set her blood burning with fury.
“Stupid,” she hissed, standing to her full height and pushing him back into the chair. “What are you even doing moving! You should be resting, you-you-” She stopped and bit her lip hard. “Let me heal you.”
He shook his head, but didn’t pull away. “You have done enough already. Please, do not waste-”
“She’s not asking.” Estinien unfolded from his seat and gave Aymeric an indecipherable look when he lifted his head. “She’s going to heal you, Aymeric,” he said lowly.
The white mage nodded and tightened her grip on his hand. “Please,” she pleaded.
His ears grew red, eyes darting from Estinien to his hand in hers. After a moment, he let out a heavy breath and nodded. “Alright,” he relented and cleared his throat.
She sighed in relief and gave him a firm look. “Good.” With renewed determination, she stood and glanced around the room. She would need more room for this. Spotting a stool, she moved it before the fire, and beckoned him over.
Aymeric slowly pushed himself up, face pinched in concentration, but hesitated, glancing at Estinien. A firm stare was his only response. Accepting his defeat, the Commander crossed the room and sat.
With patient finally in place, she held her hands out and focused on her aether. The damage was severe. Hairline fractures along his fingers and ribs, torn muscles in his back, deep bruising external and internal, and several misaligned joints. The wounds on his back and arms were mostly healed, but sloppily. It would take some time, but it was well within her skill to fix. Her lips thinned as she circled him, trying to decide the best place to begin. Perhaps the most delicate work.
Ignoring the burn of his gaze on her, she stopped before him, took his right hand, and closed her eyes. Her aether flowed along his fingers, slowly coaxing the bones to knit together properly, soothing small tears and strains, straightening any joints. Washing away any pain and stiffness. His own aether made the process easy, to her surprise; curling with her own languidly.
Her confidence grew as she healed, allowing more of her aether to flow into him. Once his hand was finished, she followed up his arm, fingers pressing into flesh in search of deeper injuries. His other arm had less damage, thankfully. But when she got to his shoulders, she frowned.
This was the main source of his pain. Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the raised lines of scars, still radiating heat as they healed on their own. A whip then. It had cut deep, tearing muscles and tendons.
She pulled back, lips pursed. “The shirt will have to come off,” she said, giving a tug at the material.
Aymeric tensed from head to toe, back snapping straight and the red on his ears grew darker. “Pardon?” he asked quietly, voice cracking slightly.
“You heard her, de Borel,” Estinien retorted for her, moving over to lean against the mantle and flash a grin at Aymeric. “Strip.”
Throwing the dragoon a glare, she added, “Tis only to allow easier access to your injuries.”
“Eh, yes, of course...” the Commander stuttered and fumbled to pull it over his head.
The woman sucked in a sharp breath when his skin was revealed. Her fingers trembled as they reached out to trace red, angry lines. There were dozens, overlapping enough that she could scarce make out his skin in places. The only blessing in that they were precise. Someone had taken great pains to hurt him as much as possible without crippling him. Her chest ached at the thought of it.
“Little one.”
She jerked from her trace at Estinien’s soft call, looking up to find him watching her with concerned eyes. Of course. She couldn’t get distracted. Another deep breath calmed her mind once more then she began.
Their aether blended together easily again and followed the path of her hands. She pressed her fingers into tense muscles to sooth the deepest, urging the aching wounds to heal faster. Massaging away strains and tears beneath the skin. Red faded to pink and the scarred flesh smoothed. Her hands kneaded down and around to feel along his ribs. Though she paused when she began to feel him tense more, breathing growing faster.
“Are you alright?” she asked, straightening to try and peek over his shoulder.
“He’s fine,” Estinien answered, pulling her attention to him. Heat curled in her stomach at the hungry look on his face. Eyes black with blown pupils bored into her, his face flushed, and the grip on his crossed arms was tight.
Her mouth opened to question why Aymeric couldn’t just answer himself, but she stopped when he raised a brow. The two had spent enough time together for her to know when he wanted her to stop talking. As to why, she couldn’t say. Instead, she frowned, but nodded. She would just have to trust him.
Shaking off her thoughts, the Warrior returned her hands to his shoulders. They were still stiff with the faintest of tremors. A touch with her aether showed no further injuries, but he was obviously suffering from some discomfort. She let it spread out to search, but the farther she reached, the worse he grew.
After a minute, she released her aether and stepped back. Something wasn’t right. Both men were eerily silent and still, staring at each other. Her frustration peaked, fueled by worry and confusion at their damned secrecy. She had had enough!
The white mage growled and went to move around, to get Aymeric to speak for himself, but the dragoon was faster. He lunged up from his slouch, grabbed her around the waist, and pinned her to his chest.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, trying to push from his grip.
“Do you want to see, little one?” he asked lowly, voice just a bit strained. His hands slid to her shoulders, slowly turning her.
Aymeric let out a sound of panic, finally gaining his voice. “Estinien! Don’t-”
“I may have forgotten to mention that our friend has a rather unique problem,” he continued, cutting him off. “Healing magic causes an interesting reaction in his body.”
As he spoke, he snapped her around and locked her against him again with one arm; the other taking her chin and forcing her to look at Aymeric. It hadn’t been discomfort that had made him so tense. It had been...pleasure. He was flushed from his ears down to his collarbones, lips thoroughly bitten, and eyes dazed in pleasure. A glance down showed obvious evidence of just how aroused he’d become. Her eyes didn’t know where to stop, taking in his white knuckle grip on his knees, heaving chest, and fire lit skin, before meeting his gaze. Dark with need and locked onto her. Heat flared in her face and coiled in her gut.
The hand on her chin tilted her head back and Estinien pressed his mouth to her jaw. “He is in need of your succor,” he murmured, hot breath sending shivers down her spine. “Will you grant it to him?”
The true meaning behind such a simple question sent her mind churning. What Estinien was offering was something she had scarce thought of. She had admitted to her attraction for the Commander to him during a few of their late night watches in the past. But for it to lead to this, a night with both them to ease her aching soul...
With a deep breath, she looked straight into Aymeric’s eyes and nodded. She could feel Estinien’s lips curl against her skin and he slowly walked her closer to the other man. Each step sent a skitter of tingles up her spine. His arms loosened and nudged her forward the last one, sending her right into Aymeric’s.
Her heart leapt to her throat when instead of bringing her close, he only held her arms. His expression was drawn with concern and fear, but he gave her a small smile despite it. “My dear,” he murmured with a rough voice, looking up at her. “Is this what you truly desire? I do not wish for you to feel pressed into a hasty decision.”
She fought down the urge to laugh. Instead, she reached out and brushed mussed hair from his face. “Do you ever stop being so noble?” she asked, pushing closer to him against his hold. When he didn’t react, she sighed and shook him off completely before winding her arms around his neck. “Since you seem to require it... Yes. I do desire this. Very, very much.”
And that was all he needed. Aymeric wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her down into an urgent kiss. She meet it with her own rushed need, lips parting quickly under his. Gods, he was sweet. She could taste syrup on his tongue, smell it on his breath with quick pants between. She couldn’t get enough of it.
Estinien curled around her from behind, brushing her still wet hair to the side to nuzzle the back of her neck. Suddenly there were hands everywhere. Gripping in her hair to tilt her head to the side, down her hips to squeeze her thighs, on her stomach to push her lower half back, then to slide under the oversized tunic she wore.
She broke away with a needy whine at the feel of callused fingers cup her ass, leaning back more as Aymeric moved to trailed open mouth kisses down the center of her neck. Her skin was hot, growing more so with every touch, and soon the fabric became too confining. The frustration must have been felt by the other two as well. Estinien was quick to push the tunic up, roughly yanking it over her head, and leaving her completely bare.
A long, low groan rumbled from the Commander, already returning his hands to her. “Breathtaking,” he murmured as he slowly dragged them up her sides, stopping just beneath her breasts. “Never have I seen such beauty.”
The healer wanted to deny such silly things, but the thought died at another hand delving between her legs. “Aye,” Estinein growled, hunching over her for a better angle. Fingers ran over her dampening folds, teasing in their brief contact and pulling another whine from her. “Sweet as well.” A nudge to the small of her back had it arching forward to present.
Taking the unspoken offering, Aymeric finally moved to fully cup her breasts. Tracing the undersides with feather light caresses, thumbs circling painfully close to her nipples, soft and careful. She strained for more, earning a hot, breathy chuckle before his mouth sealed over the left one. It was impossible to stop the moan that ripped from her and she pulled her trapped arms free to tangle her fingers in his hair. His wet tongue swirled over the hardened bud and teeth bit down lightly while his other hand teased the unoccupied one. The sensations turned her muscles to jelly and she began to sway in their hands.
The mouth released her breast, lapping lightly then dragging to the other. “Perhaps,” Aymeric whispered breathlessly against her skin. “A change to a more comfortable-”
She was lifted up before he could finish his sentence, gasping and grabbing onto the arms that wrapped around her waist suddenly. A grunt of agreement from Estinien was her only warning before he took three long strides across the room and dumped her onto a bed hidden behind the lone partition. She could make out breathless laughter approaching behind, but she was focused on the man before her as she turned over to lay on her back. He was on her before she could register the hunger in his dark eyes.
Hot lips everywhere, teeth biting down none to gently, fingers possessively digging into soft flesh. Sweeping her senses away in a whirlwind of breath taking pleasure. It was all she could do to cling to his still clothed shoulders as he moved down. Silken hair pooling and sliding along her burning skin, body vibrating rumbles of satisfaction after every drag of tongue, and oh, gods, his head was between her legs and he was nuzzling her core -
Gentle fingers in her hair ripped her attention away, head falling back to find Aymeric beside her. He was propped on his side, watching her with half lidded eyes and a warm smile as he let his touches drift to tracing her lips. Then there was a tongue on her cunt. Her mouth dropped open in a silent gasp, body arching up with the levin lighting her nerves.
Her open mouth was covered with another and she threw herself into the kiss mindlessly. Estinien’s damned clever tongue swirling around her clit and her own tangled greedily with Aymeric's, hands frantically locked into feathery black tufts and twisting against the immovable arm holding her hips down. Even now, Aymeric was still sweet, still so careful and slow. Tracing the inside of her mouth as if he had no other care on the star and swallowing her ragged pants like they were a succulent feast. But it wasn’t enough.
Using her hold on his hair, she pulled his mouth from hers and tasted along his jaw. The sharpness of sweat and something darker mixed with the sweetness as she followed the line of his throat, sucking at the skin over his adam’s apple. Down and down, pushing him onto his back and straining to finally feel what his armour had hidden. Her nails grazed over old scars, ghosting over his nipples, feeling his stomach muscles jump. Lower and lower-
A sharp nip to her clit ripped a cry from her, her whole body twitching at the jolt of searing heat that rocked through. The bastard grinned against her mons, moved his hands to grip her hips, and tugged her to the end of the bed before easily flipping her over again. It only sent her tangling with Aymeric’s legs and her own hair.
“Prick!” she cursed, kicking out at the laughing dragoon that had yet to release her. “What in the bloody hells are you doing?!”
“Assisting the lady with sating her thirst,” he teased back. He easily pulled her hips up, forcing her onto her knees and planting face first into a silent and still Aymeric’s stomach with a squeak. She kicked out behind blindly, only managing to graze his tunic and listen to his bark of laughter.
The warrior struggled to push herself up, shoving a wave of hair from her eyes and blinked to find her nose just a hair's width from what her fingers had been searching for. She lifted her head and found Aymeric staring back at her raw need in his eyes. A shudder fought its way up her spine, eyes rolling slightly, before she gave him a wicked smile of her own and dipped her head back down.
By the Twelve, he was big . She shifted down and nosed along the length of him that rested on his stomach. Long and heavy and flushed red, twitching under her breath as she breathed him in. He gasped and tensed when she took him in hand, enjoying the silky skin before trailing the tip of her tongue along the bottom. Base to tip, flattening and swirling around his head, then swiftly dropping down to take him in her mouth.
Aymeric’s hands flew to her head, fisting in her hair as he let out a guttural grunt. She could feel a tremor run through him and pushed down on his hips to keep him from bucking. Her mouth lowered, tongue sweeping broad strokes, and sucked. The most wonderful noises began to pour from him, forcing him from clench jawed silence. Rumbling groans, whispers of sweet encouragement, and hissing curses. His entire form was taunt, straining to keep still, but his hands remained gentle on her head.
The task was one she savored. Taking her time to drag her lips up and off him before setting back to lath the underside of his head. She relished his little jerks at the sensation before swallowing him completely in one swift move. Aymeric shouted in a mixture of surprise and bliss, hips straining against her hold. She hummed around him, peeking up to admire the lines of his throat up to his thrown back head.
A sharp smack to her ass jerked her forward, making her moan around the cock in her mouth. “ Oh , little one…” She pulled her head back with a gasp and tensed at the feel of Estinien’s hands running up the backs of her thighs. His teeth scraped over the curve of an ass cheek, hands stopping to cup and knead. “Do you want both of us?” he growled, thumbs spreading her open, but nothing more.
She pinched her eyes closed as he continued to massage her, fuzzy mind trying to grasp the words. Of course she wanted them both! Was she not already clearly showing that? What in Nophica’s bloody breath did he me-
His tongue swept up along her slit, dipping into her, then out and up more to swirl around her rear entrance. Twisting, gentle pressure enough to push slightly past the muscles. The realization struck her with the violent clench of her inner walls. Her mouth fell open in a breathless keen of pleasure, lips brushing against the length still before her. Oh, gods, he-he meant both at once . The thought alone sent a wave of heat through her.
Aymeric’s hands moved to cup her jaw, tilting her head back and gently leading her up his body. Even through the obvious haze of lust, he gave her a soft, warm smile once she was face to face with him.
“You have fought for so long, taken no rest of your own,” he breathed, fingers feather-light as they brushed sweaty fringe from her eyes. “Will you accept our succor?”
“Y-yes!” the warrior panted, leaning heavily into his hands.
His lips split into a dazzling smile before he leaned up and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was searing, but sweet. Filled with emotions she was too addled to discern, but fell into it with abandon. Their actions became hurried. Positions shifted between teasing touches and Estinien’s gods-be-damned tongue continuing on her. Soon, she was straddling Aymeric’s hips with shaking thighs.
The dragoon was very obvious with his appreciation, letting out a growl before oil slicked fingers began to press into her. She didn’t bother to stop her strangled moan as she pushed back into his touch. More hands joined; stroking along her folds, teasing her clit, pinching at a nipple. Bruising grips guiding her hips down and Aymeric’s length dragged over her dripping slit. Taunting, testing, winding her up to the very edge. One finger became two, reaching farther into her, scissoring to stretch.
A fervent whisper pierced her haze of pleasure, pulling her attention up. Lips moved, the question registering vaguely, her wordless agreement, and then he pushed into her. The white mage’s strangled cry was a chorus with his moan, pitching up when Estinien curled the fingers in her ass.
He filled her to the brim as she settled down atop him. The head of his cock strained her very limits, nocking right against a spot that sent shivers all up through her with every twitch. Then the bastard added a third finger from behind and touched Aymeric through her. All three groaned, pausing for a moment before they were swept away in the rush.
The fingers were withdrawn with a wet noise, position shifted once more, Estinien’s feverish chest against her back, and arousal nudging her rear. He pressed a chaste kiss behind her ear before sinking in. The slow burn as he hilted stole her breath even as she gasped out senseless pleads to be captured by Aymeric’s lips once again.
Then they both began to move. Just a tense tilt of their hips to pull out an ilm and back to feel at first. The quivering of her walls in response spurred them on. Testing rolls slowly became strong thrusts as they found a rhythm. One pulling out as the other filled, never leaving her a moment to regain her senses.
The tension that had been growing steadily snapped suddenly, sending her spiraling into an orgasm before she had even realized it was nearing. A scream ripped from her lungs as she bowed and shook, body trying to clamp down on their lengths even as they refused to stop. No, they grew more forceful. Snapping their hips to slam into her with open mouth kisses and ardent words moaned into her ears.
She fell into her burning hunger with reckless abandon. Kissing and scratching and trying to roll her hips back into their thrusts once her muscles stopped shaking. Estinien snarled like a beast when she reached back and yanked a fistful of his hair. Clenching her cunt to drag a deep moan from Aymeric.
Fingers pressed to her clit in time with a savage thrust from both at once and she saw stars. Their pace was lost soon after as they neared their own peaks. Devolving into brutal, seeking slams and filling the room with desperate cries.
More and more until Aymeric came with a shout. Stiffening and spasming hard enough to draw Estinien with him. They flooded her with molten heat and she shattered. Her entire body bowed, shaking from head to toe, ringing ears and faded vision with the sheer intensity of it. Wave after wave of euphoria until her muscles gave out.
A bark of laughter was the first thing she heard when her sense began to come back. “Halone’s tits, you brilliant little mage,” Estinien rasped into her ear.
“Wha…?” The warrior barely managed to crack an eye open, realizing they were now sprawled together over the bed.
Aymeric took one of her hands and pressed it to his ribs. Right where a scar had been. “It would seem your healing is more potent when in the throes of passion,” he said, grinning widely when she gaped at him.
She sat up with a sudden burst of energy, mind scrambling to beat back the post-coital fog. It was true. She traced her hands over his skin and marveled at the smoothness of his back. Free of each and every stroke. Relief overtook her and she blinked back sudden tears.
Estinien turned her head back to him with gentle fingers, staring into her with warmth and awe. “You continue to astonish me,” he murmured, drying her cheeks with his thumbs. “So strong, my little one.” He pressed a sweet, soft kiss to her lips before easing her down between them. Their lean forms curled around her protectively.
Oh, how her heart ached with the tenderness. She melted into them, arms wrapping around her dragoon and legs tangling with her Commander. Exhaustion swept over her. Languid in satiation and shielded from her heart break, she let herself drift off.