Work Text:
A Private Meeting
It was half past eleven in the morning when it occurred to him that he had never been so nervous in his life. Pragmatic in nature and focused in his career, Aymeric de Borel had rarely allowed himself to fuss over emotions. While traditionally experiencing them, sometimes with fervor, it was better to remain stoic in his field, and so composure became his norm. He felt that expertly crafted mask slip, however, in the face of a particular ally. The Warrior of Light had entered his life one fateful day in Coerthas; upon his own request. The charming young woman was as clever as she was kind, and her optimism in the face of everything she had suffered was inspiring. Despite being fascinated by her since before their introduction, he had never expected his interest in her to progress in the way that it had. He had become infatuated with her, and that worried him.
He had written a summons to House Fortemps for her that morning; A polite request to speak in private. Zumi had become a faithful companion and friend to him over the last several months and the final stand of the Dragonsong War loomed on the horizon. While he hoped it wouldn’t be his swan song, death was always a possibility. It was as good a time as any to express what he had kept private since the first moment his heart urged him to take her hand in his own. Whether or not these feelings were unrequited made no difference to him, really. He regarded her highly and would continue to support and aid her cause regardless of response. Yet he felt this was something he could not, and would not, leave unexpressed. The mask had fallen, and he was resolved to live honestly and without regret.
Lost in thought, he found himself pacing in his bed chambers. He knew she would show; she always did when he asked to meet. She spoke with him often and enthusiastically, regardless of the topic at hand. Knowing she was on her way made him increasingly aware of his heart rate; pulse ringing within his head. He reprimanded himself for making a fuss over this meeting. He would speak, she would respond in kind, and they would move on to beseech Hraesvelgr for aid; likely with some frame of reference for the future. He would thank her for her understanding and assure her that their friendship would not falter as a result of his deepening feelings. In the event that those feelings were requited he would assure her that no amount of time or distance would dissuade him from pursuing a romance with her. He had it all mapped out, so why then, did he feel as though his heart would burst through his chest as he made the repeated stride from one end of his room to the other.
She had never been to his home before. In usual circumstances, they met to speak in his office or somewhere in town. He felt as though this conversation demanded privacy; both for her sake and his own. He hoped that she wouldn’t take his invitation as something improper, noting that it could certainly appear that way. Banishing the thought, the young man continued on his path, working to reduce his nerves. Just as he had turned heel yet again, his door guard came to retrieve him. “Master Aymeric, Miss Zhawan is here. I’ve had her take a seat in the den.” His pulse quickened again and he nodded in response, drawing a breath to steady himself. “Thank you Oldaric, please enjoy the rest of your day; we’ll be headed to Dravania after our conversation” the older man nodded and bowed, thanking his patron for the early dismissal.
Zumi, having moved through the brightly lit awning, found herself in a sparsely decorated, yet charming living area. The walls were lined with bookshelves, neatly organized with little space for anything more. It looked as though tomes were moved in and out frequently as each spine had some wear. The young mage found herself glancing over several titles as she awaited her host. This private meeting was sudden and impromptu. It was unusual for such a busy man to call upon anyone in this manner. Her mind raced with thoughts of their upcoming confrontation with Nidhogg’s Shade and intrigue over her friend’s urgency.
After taking a moment to reign in his heart, Aymeric made his way to the aforementioned den. The sight of her was simultaneously comforting and terrifying at that moment. She smiled up at him, nestled comfortably in a vintage loveseat, a remnant of his adopted mother’s style choices. She was dressed in a well-fitted blouse tucked into a skirt, draped elegantly against her upper thighs. She wore his favorite colour, dragoon blue vibrantly contrasting her fair skin and lavender hair. He felt his eyes widen involuntarily, as he fought to keep his gaze from lingering on her legs. Blinking once and recollecting himself, he thanked her for showing up on short notice, returning her smile in kind. Zumi hadn’t missed his unusual attire either, but her curiosity kept her single-mindedly focused on hearing him out. In stark contrast to his familiar gold and blue armor, her companion was dressed in a white dress shirt with an umber vest and necktie. His attire was decidedly handsome, and she wondered to herself whether he had done so for her.
She folded her hands politely in her lap after gesturing to the open seat at her side, “You seem unusually unnerved.” Was she teasing him? He frowned slightly in response, tilting his head down. “Oh. I’m so sorry, is everything alright?” She had begun to rise from the seat, hands extended in front of her, concern painted across her delicate features. He mirrored her response, hoping to alleviate her worry, “No, no. I’m quite alright, thank you. I’m just unsure of how to properly convey my thoughts.” He watched her countenance relax, and with it, her petite form fell back into the loveseat. She was still curious, yet satisfied that her companion was passably unshaken. He gradually made his way to the spot she had patted at her side and noted that sitting down, their height difference was far less jarring. She was smiling up at him and he felt himself grow more confident.
He laughed soundlessly, just a short burst of air really. Zumi eyed him inquisitively just before he began to speak, “You and I will be facing Nidhogg soon.. We will have no forewarning and embarking to beseech Hraesvelgr is a last ditch effort. One or both of us may very well fall in this final stand.” She nodded slowly, accepting that death was always a possibility. Her brow furrowed slightly as she pondered the meaning behind his speech. “I’ve always lived my life to the best of my ability; to push for what I believe in, often knowing when it would spark rancor amongst my fellow citizens. With that being said, I don’t wish to die with lingering regrets.” He glanced up from his hands and back to her. Zumi’s lips parted slightly as if deciding whether to respond, when he tenderly placed his hand upon her own and gently shook his head. Her eyes widened, bewildered. He noted that her hand was dainty and soft; a mage had no need to work them to the bone. He felt himself simper when she didn’t pull away.
The young woman’s thoughts raced. He’d spoken to her gingerly and for a while had regarded her with a certain tenderness; but the weight of his hand on her own was an unexpected sensation. She tilted her head upward as he began to speak again, “I wanted peace for my people and a change in regime if they could consider it. You’ve selflessly aided me in ways I can never properly thank you for on both fronts.” He appeared reflective and looked down at their hands; his fingertips ever-so-subtly curling around her own. “That would leave me with one remaining regret if I were to fall.” Zumi, watching his action, had caught the rushing of her heart against her chest and felt her breath hitch in surprise as he spoke to her delicately. She had grown accustomed to advances and turning away would-be suitors as a household name. What she found she was not equipped to handle, was the sudden influence of her own curiosity and ardor. The Elezen at her side spoke once more, “As you’ve no doubt caught on, I’ve found myself becoming quite fond of you over the last several months”
The ringing in her ears grew louder. He was undoubtedly correct. She had noticed. While she thought through the several moments they had shared, flush began to manifest on her porcelain skin. She recalled the way his ice blue eyes glistened when she spoke, the moment he first properly smiled at her, and how he subsequently beamed her way daily. She reflected on their conversations, private and otherwise; and his attentiveness. Morning walks to his place of employ had become a common occurrence they both took pleasure in. Overheard words rang in her mind, jabs on his inability to stay composed with her and Knights knowing daily work was easier on days she was present.
Zumi had caught on. She silently wondered how he hadn’t discerned her own growing fondness. It was not unusual for him to call upon the Miqo’te to simply hold a conversation or ask her opinion on various affairs. For the first time since she had become a renowned warrior who worked to aid those in need, Zumi felt like someone approached her more for the sake of kinship than business. She was glad to know him and thankful to be more than the Warrior of Light in his midst. While her immoral dreams of him taunted her, what she truly loved most was how he regarded her. She worried that it was a projection of her own developing feelings when, just a few days prior, he had expressed interest in having a drink with her when all was said and done. She refused to relish in his statement despite color bursting from her cheeks upon processing his request.
Zumi had spent so much time chastising herself for her developing feelings. Her duties always took precedence and an adventurer had no time for infatuation. But there she was, close enough to touch, and being touched by the very same man in the midst of spilling his heart: Verbalizing that saying nothing would be his final regret. He wasn’t the sort of man to attempt seduction before the paramount clash of war. Zumi, however, was unsure if she was the type of woman to do so. Head spinning in an all consuming heat, she reflected on Thancred’s words to her. “Just get it over with”. If only it were that simple. Regardless of his intent, he used words alone and graced her with the most innocent of actions... yet she was feverish. She started to consider the ramifications of acting rashly when his face turned to concern.
His eyes softened as she relaxed again upon recognizing she had been silent, “You are the most incredible person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. To fell primals by oneself with nary a scratch is remarkable in and of itself. Yet you have also managed to successfully parley with the Dravanians to effectively stop our centuries of war. It’s beyond all reason.” He fixed his gaze onto her pale green eyes as though peering into her soul and his smile grew subtly. “And if I may add.. you are as striking as you are formidable. I am eternally grateful to have met you, Zumi” The blush that had slowly spread throughout the young woman’s visage was no longer inconspicuous. She felt lost for words; registering what he had expressed again and smiling as she looked down at their hands, now joined together. Zumi was not a shy woman, but at that moment, she felt more anxious than her adolescent self ever had. He lightly squeezed her hand, stirring her from silent reverie. She looked back up to meet his gaze; his eyes like mystifying pools of ice. “You haven’t noticed then.” Her voice was soft; it was a statement of fact rather than a question. “And would that be your only regret?”
A soft laugh escaped him as he gazed upon her with utmost kindness in his eyes; “If we both survive the coming events, I would very much like to court you.. if you’ll have me? I cannot ask for anything more.” Try as she might have, she wasn’t able to conceal the widening of her eyes in surprise. Though he himself wouldn’t entertain it, a quick romp would have been a more expected request. His desire for courtship stirred her. As an adventurer, she came and went; following where people needed her strength and guidance. Zumi knew she couldn’t stay in Ishgard; as much as she wished she could. “Aymeric...” sadly escaped her lips as her head angled down from his gaze. She tentatively placed her other hand on top of his, her body following to face him. “I’m an adventurer, a Scion even. You know I can’t stay here forever.” While she had meant this to be a matter of fact, her ability to hold back emotion was faltering. It would have been clear to anyone that this simple truth ached.
She suddenly felt a hand lightly touch her chin and delicately move her gaze to meet his eyes yet again. “I know.” He spoke plainly, but adoration embraced his tone. “That’s perfectly alright. I will wait for you. As long as it takes”. Zumi felt her heart fighting to beat through her chest at his touch, pink tinting her features yet again. The mage felt powerless as her heart and mind raced in tandem. She had been forcing her own affections back and the charade was tearing at its seams. Her reservations were simple: Ishgard did not look kindly upon interracial “mixing” and the implications for someone of his station would be disastrous. She fought back against the flurry of thoughts as none of that mattered in the moment. Her desire was also simple. “I would like that...” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She feared there wasn’t much more she could say between feeling feverish from his touch and lauded from his words. She was reduced to her adrenaline from so little and had never allowed herself to give the scenario much thought; always pushing back against that lingering and latent hope.
She had buried the dreams and brushed away her feelings. Zumi wanted nothing more than to break the distance between them and run her hands through his tousled hair. The air was thick and time felt still. His face was peering... hopeful even; he wondered if there was anything more he could say until he resolved to stop thinking. “May I?” Not fully understanding his intention, she silently nodded, anticipation igniting a flame within her. Leaning towards her, his fingers delicately urged her chin closer until their lips met. Zumi instinctively brought one of her hands to meet his face and then his hair, pulling herself closer still. An involuntary murmur of approval escaped her. It had been an age since the young woman had last allowed herself to indulge in anything amorous and it took every ounce of self control to not give in to her enthusiasm. The kiss began softly, reverent, as if he intended to convey her significance in silence. It was a series of small, calculated motions as his fingers moved from her chin to her cheek, and then to her hair. Despite secretly wishing for this outcome, the Miqo’te hadn’t considered their predicament as a genuine option. She took delight in his tenderness despite her growing hunger, and appreciated the gentle way he caressed her.
He was careful, yet he lingered almost expectantly. Neither party had intended it, but the kiss grew more ardent as lips parted and hands explored new terrain fervently. His free hand began to run it’s way through her smooth lavender locks and down to her neck. His fingers moved elegantly and with each passing touch, Zumi’s nerves were set ablaze. Unthinkingly, she felt herself slowly climb into his lap, breaking what little distance remained between them. He shuddered at her boldness but didn’t resist the advance. Absent-mindedly yet lightly, she bit his lip, then pulled away for a moment as if to assure herself she was experiencing reality and not another of her lascivious dreams. She found herself met with his piercing eyes, darkened with desire. They had lost the internal war.
He had not accounted for this as a possible outcome of their conversation. His thoughts raced in tandem with the rapid beat within his chest, as he felt waves of lavender between his fingers. Perhaps overzealous, the fingers of his left hand grasped precariously close to the edge of her skirt and he noted she was on her knees hovering over him; on top of him. He feared he was being indulgent, too lost in his own longing to think clearly. When she pulled away, he gazed into her soul, unblinking. Her arms were around his neck, and her nose brushed his own from their proximity. “Is this alright?” He mustered, hands moving to trace a line up and down her back and settling cautiously on her hips. “Should we be— I mean to say: Do you want this?“ he was answered by the woman in his arms. She adjusted her hold to press a single finger to his lips, before smiling devilishly, “Yes, I do.” Her response was delivered dulcetly, and certainly more sultry than she had intended. She noticed that her skirt had been hiked up in her movement and silently chastised herself for considering this to be an overwhelmingly good thing.
They took one another in for what felt like hours in the den seat when she felt his hands reach under her to lift her as he stood. She beamed with enthusiasm, reflecting his own manner as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She had given him express consent but he contemplated his haste and worried he was capitalizing on their urgency in wartime. They made the short distance across the hall, but his fears began to consume him. He had set her down on his bed gently, when she noticed his pensive look. “Aymeric…” her head was slightly tilted and her countenance was one of concern; far removed from the hunger from just moments ago. She reached for him and he knelt down in front of her, allowing her to caress his face gently.
The corners of his mouth turned upward at her touch. “You are truly breathtaking. It would be dishonest of me to say I wasn’t eager to make love to you…” he looked away embarrassed, realizing what he had just expressed aloud. Zumi had brought her hands back to rest in her lap as she listened intently. Her face lit up at his comment but she made no immediate response. “I just want to assure you that I have no intention of exploiting you in a tumultuous time” she laughed soundlessly and shook her head. “Aymeric I would never think that of you. I climbed into your lap.” She smirked playfully and he relaxed, placing his hands on each of her thighs, the rest, folded daintily underneath her. “You did.” She beamed at him, leaning over to press a gentle peck to his lips. “I assure you, no part of me feels coerced, rushed, or otherwise influenced by anything other than my own desire.” He noted the change in her eyes at the last word and his heart fluttered within his chest.
“We were being quite hasty…” he watched her back up a bit as he spoke, one hand wrapping itself around his upon her leg and the other gripping his disheveled tie. “We still could be…” she eyed him expectantly, tip of her tongue lightly grazing her bottom lip. His mind was on fire once again. She was propositioning and no part of him wanted to resist. Her hand, nestled in his own, began to pull him towards her and he followed as if bewitched. Zumi backed herself further towards the headboard, smiling deviously, tugging him along with her. They both laughed as she pulled a bit too hard and they found one another rolled back, face to face on his bed. He hovered over her, gently touching her cheek as the other arm held him still, “You’re absolutely certain?” Conviction graced her visage as she nodded, “I am. No lingering regrets, remember?” He pursed his mouth in a self-satisfied smirk, realizing she’d used his own words, before she broke the distance between them. He returned her kiss ardently, moving the hand from her cheek to hold her wrist back over her head.
In one swift motion, they were back to enjoying one another with decadence. He moved to kiss her neck, eliciting a moan of approval. She ran her free hand through his wavy black tresses as he tasted down to her collarbone. His actions were tender but intently amorous; Simultaneously fearful he’d break her and consumed by his desire to. He pulled her up with him as he sat up, kissing her all the while. She began clumsily pulling her tights off from under her skirt, he laughed, moving to assist her, bending over to lightly peck her nose. He had just tossed the article to the side, when she climbed into his lap once more; eagerly capturing his lips with her own. He tentatively ran his fingers along her bare thighs and up her skirt to rest on her hips as she tugged on the buttons and intricate fabric of his camise. He obliged, helping her to shrug it off of his body; feeling her icy hands against his freshly revealed skin. Shuddering at her touch, partially from the chill and in part from ardor, he lifted the hem of her shirt with his free hand. She took his silent direction, removing her own article.
The thin black lace of her brassiere sat taut against her pale breasts. He took in her form, dazed. She was ethereal: lips red from overuse, seafoam eyes glistening as she gazed up at him with adoration. Zumi’s hand, still on his bare abdomen, moved to his face; her eyes never moving from his own. She had noted his physical condition with gratification yet was wholly distracted by the way he was looking at her. He never dropped that adoring gaze as he ran his free hand through her breast length lavender hair. Kissing her palm and lightly squeezing her hip, he murmured that she was beautiful. She blinked up at him, awe-stricken. In her 27 years of life, no man or woman had watched her in this manner, and she was utterly smitten as a result.
After what felt like being in a stupor, she moved to embrace him once more. He lightly rolled her onto her back mid-kiss. While she was keen to allow him to puppet her in any way he desired; she toyed with the idea of taking back control. Amidst wandering thoughts, the young woman relished in his touch and shuddered as he reached to undo the closure on her skirt. She tugged down at it and he lightly laughed at the enthusiasm, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
In the wintery climes of Coerthas, it was rare to see much skin. The pair individually delighted in knowing they were one of very few who had gotten to witness so much of the other. Moving to kiss down her neck once more, Aymeric hummed in pride at the thought while his lover effortlessly kicked the last of her skirt to the side. In admiration, he continued his exploration of her body. With his lips and his free hand, he surveyed every scar and curve. He pulled his lips from her stomach, to each breast, and back to her neck while his hand traced the inner curve of her left breast down to the seam of sheer lace pantalettes. Zumi trembled with anticipation and he laughed lightly into her neck, “patience, beloved”. Her own hands wandered from his arms, to his chest, unable to reach the closure in his trousers. While their height difference piqued her interest, it did come with its upsets. He noticed the struggle and pulled her up onto her knees once more, smile daring, yet tinged with appreciation. It was her turn to traverse his form. While her hands worked to undo the closure, she kissed his neck, allowing fangs to ever-so-slightly bite into him. A slight appreciative groan escaped his throat and she continued to make a trail down his neck, grin bearing into his skin between each peck.
His hands, all the while, had found their way back to her waist. He played with the seam of her lingerie; tracing it around the back curvature and to her inner thigh causing her focus to completely waver. Upon regaining composure, she eagerly pulled down at his unclasped bottoms and ran a finger delicately over him, pushed tight under the fabric. He shuddered at her touch before tracing his own digit from inner thigh to the dampened center of her smallclothes. He slipped underneath the fabric to find the saturated culprit. In a teasing move he moved ever closer without quite touching her center, eliciting a moan equally wanting as it was frustrated. He lifted the finger to his mouth to taste and she about lost her mind. She desperately tried to pull the remaining clothing off of her body, when he assisted graciously, all the while running his unoccupied fingers along her right thigh, looking positively bold.
She was ravenous and his remaining fabric was begging to be removed. While lightly maneuvering her lacy garment off the end of her foot, she obliged in freeing his arousal. He briefly feared that he would harm her inadvertently but his thoughts were quickly banished as she playfully pushed him back down into the bed, crawling on top of him. He allowed her control of the situation with zeal as she captured his lips with her own once more. Her lips parted, shamelessly moaning as he teased her again. Running his fingers just short of where she wanted them as they embraced one another. “Aymeric, please” she whined desperately against his mouth; eliciting a devilish grin. He chose to comply, fully grateful that he did when her breath hitched and her body greeted his touch with fervor. The tip of her tongue lightly traced his own before wanting became too much to bear and she brought herself against his manhood. She rubbed herself against him, slick with desire, driving them both further into lust.
Zumi wanted him desperately and her body ached to have him inside of her. She obliged her own wish by lining herself along his girth and delicately sliding him into her, slowly at first, to test herself, then with more confidence as she found herself too desperate to continue to tease. He groaned in ecstasy and her body trembled at the sensation of him slipping further into her, ilm by ilm. Her nails dug into his abs as she settled herself down completely on his member, beginning to buck her hips forward. He quickly adjusted himself underneath and held her up from the small of her back as she rocked against him, fully experiencing his length. Being joined this way was unlike anything he had ever experienced. She was petite, masterful, and utterly breathtaking; her chorus of gracious sounds emboldening his drive. He had sat himself up and brought a hand down to toy with her core as she rode him, working to keep himself from giving in. Gasping at his touch, she whimpered his name while quivering and losing herself to euphoria. He struggled to verbally express that she was divine as he pushed himself upward against the flow. She gripped desperately onto his strong shoulders, fighting to regain composure. The ache was good. Almost too good. His reverent touch only amplified her rapture.
Her nerves were aflame from stimulation and she could have been satisfied to fall limp post orgasm; but her determination outweighed the flurry of pleasure and ache. She steadied herself, holding onto his back, and began to rhythmically grind against him, working to tighten herself around his length. He sighed as she kissed his neck and gripped his skin with her nails in desperation. He reveled in bringing her pleasure; and she was addicted. He tenderly touched her again as he followed her cadence, thrusting into her; her appreciative whine into his neck finally breaking him. She felt the pulse within her and continued to move herself against it; frenzied and exhausted all the while. The all-encompassing euphoria left her dizzy and delighted.
He allowed her to pull herself off of him slowly, dripping wet, before turning and pulling her back into his lap. He kissed the top of her head and guided his hand back to her folds, gently caressing her as she writhed in ecstasy. He begged in the most indulgent voice for her to come for him again, all the while kissing her neck as his fingers worked to coax her into another finish. She collapsed backwards onto him, as he let himself fall into the mattress, wrapping his arms around her naked body. He laughed quietly and sighed with satisfaction. Utterly exhausted, the young woman spun slowly and curled up against his side still in his embrace, laying her head on his chest. He traced the pattern of her curves delicately and she sighed; content, fulfilled, and wracked with bliss.
Her entire body shivered in delight and she couldn’t help herself from smiling widely into him. He purred contentedly, “I had not anticipated my meeting with you going this well” She laughed and nuzzled against him. “No more regrets” he moved his hand from her hip to stroke a strand of hair. “I’m very much serious about courting you, Zumi Zhawan.” She propped herself up on her arms to look at him, “I promise to visit whenever I can.” He beamed. “I shall very much look forward to your arrivals.. I take it you’re agreeing then?” She nodded. “I am concerned... however.. about how the public will react. I don’t want to effect your role or work” He propped himself up on one arm and brought the other hand to her cheek. “You need not worry about others, my beloved” She smiled softly at his words but mused regardless. “.. I think it’s an important conversation nonetheless”. He nodded. “We shall address it post war obligations then. For now, let me enjoy your company for a while longer.” He lifted his lover onto him and kissed her warmly. She smiled into his lips and returned his gesture. Survival was expected regardless.. but now it was essential.
Another intoxicated, soft peck or two and he sighed, musing over something. Zumi cocked her head slightly before realizing they had to be somewhere. “Hraesvelgr” It was stated practically, but there was an inescapable tinge of disappointment in her timbre. Shifting off of his chest and sitting up on the edge of the bed, she began to scan the room for scattered clothes. He laughed as he did the same and tossed her the blouse she’d been wearing. “A pity our time was cut short. I hadn’t anticipated our discussion get so... involved.” She shook her head and laughed along, a pleasant flash of rose filling her cheeks. Things had played out quite rapidly, that much was true, however, in the wake of dire circumstances she felt anyone would have done the same. Imminent danger had a way of accelerating decisions and she only hoped he would not come to regret not holding back.
He was a Knight and an honorable man. Eliminating regrets in the face of death had been the purpose, and in Zumi’s eyes, they had done just that. A taste of what their affair could have been had death not been so cruel. He had bared all to her and she had done the same.. fledgling lovers on the brink of danger, allowing an exception to general courting etiquette. While an adventurer need not follow such societal constraints, a Lord and politician must, and her consideration for his future weighed heavy on her heart. Knowing he was a realist, she mused over whether or not she should have restrained herself and her own desires. Fully dressed in armor and prepared to set off to meet with Alphinaud, Aymeric kneeled before her, mid-thought, and took her hand. He planted a kiss on her soft, ivory knuckles and smiled up at her. “I still intend to have that drink with you, and thus, we will win this war”. His face shone with sincerity and Zumi agreed that the battle would be won. It was the battle of their future that occupied her thoughts; though they would have to revisit them another day. The liaison was their first priority.
In shakily rising to stand by his side, Zumi considered the ramifications of being seen exiting his home together and thought up an excuse to buy matériels before their departure. “I’ll meet you at House Fortemps.” He cocked his head slightly but bid her farewell all the same, “I’ll see you there, my dear.” His sudden utterance of a pet name caused her to shudder in delight. While she didn’t want to entertain the idea of a public relationship due to her reservations, the sound of him regarding her as “beloved” and “dear” left her much too contented to complain. There was no use playing coy now: Thancred had been right. She passed through the Jeweled Crozier before making her way to the Last Vigil; purchasing a handful of potions to keep her word. Alphinaud and Aymeric stood waiting for their Warrior, ready to depart, and so they did.