Chapter Text
Breath clouding in the chill winter air, Marcille paced up and down the cobbled street in front of the Golden Keep. She paused only to twirl Ambrosia in nervously jittery fingers. A month solid had passed since Laios had gone with Yaad and Kabru on a diplomatic journey to visit with the Dwarves. She was ready for him to be home.
The ancient technology they had unearthed was the sort that improved the quality of life rather than threatening it. Immediately upon learning Merini had rediscovered such treasures there had been a clamoring amongst the nations with requests for studying. The scheduled journey had taken longer than initially planned and Marcille had endured the quiet castle life as best she could. Visiting Pattadol had helped, and her mother had even come and stayed for two weeks!
But in the end, the lonely nights in the bed she usually shared with Laios had grown unbearable.
She missed his company, missed the mindful little things he did each day for her comfort and pleasure. Since they defeated the demon there was rarely a time they were separated. After he had stood between her and the western elves something had changed within her soul. She quite suddenly needed not only his friendship, but his touch his regard…the comforting warmth of his everything.
The realization of that was almost frightening. Marcille waited and waited afterward wondering if she dared to change the wonderful thing between them.
In the end, she had dared, their first kiss was completely her doing. It almost didn’t qualify as one she felt, but once his first familiar spell had been successful the joy on Laios’ face had been far too appealing to resist. When the tiny two-headed, flame and ice dragon had piped out of the kettle like a real one out of an egg the mage in her had been so proud of him and his studies. She was aiming for his cheek, but he turned his head… and while she could have stopped, Marcille had not. His eyes had blown wide, but she closed hers focusing on the soft press of his lips against her own with a throbbing heart.
When she pulled away his mouth had fallen open, amber eyes upon her incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. The tears that formed in the corners alarmed her but when she had reached up to brush them away, he caught her hands’ voice stuttering to life. “Did, did you mean that?” Marcille laughed. “Mean what silly?”
The laugh was promptly disrupted when he pressed forward in a clumsy attempt at kissing her back. It was rough and his nose bruised hers, but he pressed in with such desperate insistence it made Marcille realize that perhaps she was not nor had ever been alone in love.
The same familiar born that day had flown in last night with a letter. The tiny dragon couldn’t make too long of a journey, so that fact alone meant they were close now. A fact confirmed by the note it carried. The stupidly long wait was finally over.
The sun hung above the mountains on its journey to the horizon and like it, she couldn’t keep still. The pacing kept her from rushing down the street to find him at the soonest possible moment rather than waiting, patiently soaking in the heat of the fire with her latest knitting project.
Fluttering in her core filled her with a giddiness that made her either want to dance or bite her nails. Marcille tucked Ambrosia into the corner of her elbow rubbing hands along the thin fabric of her sleeves and shivering in the chill, so excited as to have forgotten a jacket entirely.
The outfit was a special one with colors that mirrored her adventurer’s garb. Primarily petrol blue it was a shade darker about her forearms and tight there, with a flowing sleeve above opposite its inspiration. Fluffy white pleating covered her breasts although the top was modest with tan fabric that reached up to a coral red choker skillfully worked into the same. A golden belt emphasized her slim waist and drew the eye down to a split skirt edged by white fur underlay, completed by a red ribbon loosely tied about her waist. All this was complimented by sweeping velvet trains that hung loosely behind her elbows. The master artisan responsible had truly outdone themself and Marcille couldn’t wait for Laios to see it.
Some instinct made her stop pacing and listen with opaque breath. The soft ring of cantering hooves rang out on the cobbled stone street and up into her sensitive ears. A minute later Laios’ dark gelding paced into view around the corner and her heart skipped. He had no business being so noble and kingly upon his charger…better than any fictional character ever written. Even Hareus couldn’t make a cape look that good. It was almost unfair how handsome her lover could be. A side effect probably of knowing and loving him in equal measure.
Seeing her he urged his mount into at least a quicker walk. The tiredness left his face as she smiled, a dopey grin of his own emerging as she gathered her skirts and ran for them. His mount stopped in surprise as the king flipped his cape and swung a long leg over, dropping to the ground. Laios made it three steps before she reached him, grasping Marcille’s outstretched arms, and swinging his mage effortlessly into an embrace. Ambrosia clattered to the ground abandoned as Marcille peppered his face with kisses. Cheek, eyes, nose, finally daring to press her lips just to the corner of his.
“Do...” She kissed his nose again. “You know.” His other cheek received a peck. “How much I missed you?” He let her shower him with affection, a shy chuckle edging past his lips as she nudged his face this way and that. Bashful, adorable, tucking his broad nose into her neck and breathing her in. “Yeah. But it can’t be more than I missed you.”
Then he dragged self-same nose up her neck, nuzzling along under her chin, before claiming her lips. The stuttering swirl of arousal in her flamed hotter than Aslam as she ardently kissed him back. They only broke apart when the soft clatter of additional hooves broke into earshot in the otherwise quiet street. Laios withdrew his lips from her own and breathed cold foggy breath, head-turning.
“Ahn, that’s the others, shall we?”
Marcille managed to utter some sort of agreeable sound. Her flustered throat was tight with the pent-up emotion that weeks of Laios withdrawal had formed. The almost mute plea no sooner left her lips than he gathered her more tightly in his arms. Carefully retrieving Ambrosia, he wrapped the thick fur of his cape about her shivering form. Outstretched fingers deftly caught the trailing reins of his horse’s bridle as he strode with long steps back up to the keep.
“You should’ve grabbed your cloak Marcille; you feel half frozen!”
His reproach made her blush almost as much as hearing her name in his rich voice. “I thought you liked the cold!”
“Of course…” he pressed a warm smooch to her forehead. “But not when you could catch a cold from it!”
Marcille was honestly content to let herself be carried, enjoying the strength of his arms. The metal chest plate she was pressed to was not ideal, but the firm grip of his large hands on her thigh and shoulder more than made up for it. Laios only paused to greet their hostler and toss the reins to the man before striding off through the court proper. They made it to the inner gardens. Though all the green and growing things were sleeping in wintery repose the frost on them twinkled in the dusk glow with a beauty of its own. There to her surprise, he stopped and let her down gently.
“Laios aren’t we?”
Fur and feather settled about her cold shoulders, warm and delightfully Laios scented. He dropped to one knee amid the frosty stillness in proper courtly fashion. Precisely the way he knows she loves, gently lifting her hand to his lips. Marcille flushed as he skimmed delicately across her skin, a visible question breathed athwart as golden eyes flicked up to meet her own.
“Milady, may I escort you to your chambers?” It would have been cool and elegant if he hadn’t winked at the end and made her smile and wrinkle her nose in pretend distaste. But still it’s corny and silly and better far than everything she’s ever read about. Her demure. “Of course, Milord.” made his cheeks flush handsomely in response.
Laios stood and tucked her hand gravely in the crook of his arm, leading her away into the castle proper. They made it to the kitchens before Marcille tugged him to a stop reaching up with both hands for his cheeks. He avoided them, a tiny blush on his serious face. “You’re clean Marcille and I am really filthy, honestly shouldn’t have even been carrying you much less kis…” Marcille puffed her cheeks in frustration and looped his ridiculous face in Ambrosia’s circle. Tugging him down into her clutches she kissed him triumphantly.
His wide-eyed surprise at her forwardness turned promptly to tender appreciation, hands hovering about her face as he responded. For a moment he seemed lost, back to the first kiss she had given him. A memory he told her never failed to appear when his lady worked her magic. From the kitchen, a voice broke through their haze.
“Milord, milady I hear the rest of the party! Better make a dash for it!”
Marcille released Laios abruptly any embarrassment quelled by the thought of being interrupted. Unlooping him, she grabbed his hand and ran. He stumbled a tad before catching his stride, a consequence of being taller than her.
They made a mad dash for their chambers Laios squishing against her with arrested momentum when she struggled to open the door. Tumbling into the room laughing the two of them caught their breath, kicking off shoes and taking in the sight of each other with glee. Marcille moved over and locked the door, resting Ambrosia in the little nook designed just for her. The grin dropped from Laios’ face as his golden eyes happily traced her. She hoped he would notice the state of their chamber. Food and wine were laid out on the table, and the bed neatly made. The glow and warmth of the fireplace lent a golden light to everything it touched. But Laios only had eyes for her, and she found she didn’t mind. He lifted a hand.
“Marcille?”
“Yeah Laios?”
Pointing expressively at her new outfit he intoned seriously. “Your new dress is lovely on you…” she crinkled her eyes expressively and waited. Enjoying the silly game, he loved to play every time she wore something new. “But wouldn’t nothing be kind of lovely too.”
She moved putting both slim hands on his breastplate and pressing firmly. Golden eyes on her never wavering, Laios allowed her to push him back against the side of the bed.
Her murmured command of “sit” was obeyed without question. The absolute speed with which she pounced slightly took him aback. Marcille almost ripped his pauldrons off and tossed them to the side. Reaching and unfastening the buckles on either side of his breastplate she proceeded with a velocity only possible for one familiar with the process. Chainmail was always tricky, but Laios aided as best he could. The teasing fingers that slid up his chest were lovely and fleeting, lifting his shirt and mail in their wake. Much too quickly really, skinning his poor nose in her haste. Laios closed his eyes and helped lift it off with a grunt. She then heaved the rattling bundle over the bed with both hands. His familiar lifted twin heads from their bed in sleepy alarm when the mail landed next to them with a chinking thud.
Laios fully understood her desperation but still watched in amusement as Marcille unfastened his cape from her shoulders. Half expecting to see it tossed aside like the rest of his clothing, a hot rush of warmth filled him when instead she gently stroked the soft furry skin. A dangerous gleam in her eye lanced him, heart pounding, as with an elegant flourish she whipped the cape about his bare shoulders.
Leaning dangerously in she pressed closely to his naked chest. He could’ve grabbed her but was far too entranced by her easy confidence to take advantage. Soft breath ghosted from her lips into his ear with a delicate command.
“This Stays.”
Her throaty charge sent a ripple of attraction through him. He obeyed her dry command, brushing his nose against her cheek in adoration as she pulled away. Marcille undid his belt and then made an enchantingly irritated noise as she hastily tried to work his pants down. Laios slowly inclined to benefit her then stood, cape falling elegantly about him. He moved to help but found a more pressing need consuming him.
Her dress was lovely, but he wanted Marcille in only her skin, soft and sweet and utterly delicious. Hands reached for his belt, but he caught one and squeezed it gently.
“Just a minute please.”
She subsided in her movements following as he drifted to the bathroom. He washed his hands and face, carefully drying both on a fresh towel. Turning back, he watched bemused as Marcille tried to undress on her own. She was turning a frustrated circle with the buttons on the back of her dress utterly defeating her. When cool fingers intercepted hers, she jumped, and he took over.