Work Text:
Aymeric closed the front door and leaned his back against it, exhaling and feeling the mantle of Lord Speaker shed from his shoulders as one would shed a coat. Arienne was there to greet him as usual, her tail curling at the end as she mraaa-ed her way up the hallway. He bent to scratch along her spine and she wove around his legs, just barely managing not to trip him as he continued further into the house.
“Welcome home, ser,” Phillemont said. “Shall I have supper prepared for you?”
“That would be lovely, yes,” he replied. “Are they still out?”
“I’m afraid so, my lord.”
Aymeric just nodded, swallowing his mild disappointment as he went upstairs to change. They’d be home soon enough, but he had been looking forward to dining with them at the very least. Arienne followed him into the bedroom and jumped onto the bed as he stripped off the formal clothes of his office and donned something looser. She curled up against the pillows and he left the door cracked open with a smile at the sight of her.
He went down in the library while he waited for supper to be cooked and picked up the book he’d been rereading. Settling into the chair and putting on his glasses, he tried not to listen too closely for the sound of either the front or the garden door opening.
After the passing of three or so chapters, Phillemont appeared in the doorway to inform him that his meal was ready for him. A place had already been set for him on the long table, lonely in the expanse of wood. A steaming pie sat in the center of the setting, a small basket of bread rolls to the side and a glass of wine already poured. Breaking the crust of the pie with a fork revealed tender meat and vegetables, and he hummed in satisfaction at the first bite. He could taste that Margeaux had used the mixture of spices Kitali usually used for buuz, giving the chicken an interesting flavour.
The bowl cleaned of every last crumb of crust and half the wine glass drained, Aymeric sat back comfortably in his chair.
“Might I interest you in some of the apricot tarts, my lord?” Phillemont asked.
“To be honest, I feel fit to burst,” Aymeric said with a small smile. “I think I shall save those for tomorrow.”
Phillemont just nodded.
“I shall leave these in the kitchen,” he said, bending to take the basket of rolls.
“And I believe I shall be retiring for the night, should they arrive home within the next hour or so.”
With another bow, Phillemont exited the dining room and left Aymeric to wander upstairs once more, wine glass still in hand. Arienne was still asleep on the bed, though he saw her tail twitch at his entry, eyes slitting open momentarily before closing again. He stripped once more until he wore naught but a robe and closed the bathroom door behind him to start running the hot water.
As expected, the plaintive cries on the other side of the door started almost immediately, and after no response from him she gave up her futile protest at being locked out of the bathroom. Aymeric tossed in a handful of soaking salts into the water, letting the herbs perfume, before settling into the hot water with a sigh. He submerged himself up to his neck, reclining back on the folded towel left as a pillow, and slowly let his muscles relax into the heat. Between the slow sips of wine, his stomach full of good food, and an exhausting day, Aymeric was content to let himself lightly doze in the water, still keeping half an ear out for the sound of doors opening.
The water had only slightly began to cool when the sounds of familiar voices came up the hall. The bedroom door was pushed all the way open as two sets of footsteps passed through. In his haze of comfort Aymeric could make out the delighted greetings directed at Arienne.
A soft knock sounded at the bathroom door.
“Are you still awake in there?” Estinien called through the wood.
“I am, only just,” Aymeric said, shifting in the bath and making the water slosh against the porcelain.
“Well, don’t keep us waiting too long.”
“I won’t.”
He settled back against the now damp towel, closing his eyes in contentment as he listened to the sounds of his partners settling in after their travels, a different warmth spreading through his limbs.