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Aven slid a generous tip towards Gibrillont, the proprietor and barkeep of the Forgotten Knight, gil clinking in her grip. She murmured that she’d also be paying for her comrade’s drinks before donning her helmet, nodding to her right. In the time they spent together– no matter that they were deep in the countryside– she learned Estinien was terrible with finances. She could spare him one night of emptying his pockets.
The Azure Dragoon nursed his last mouthful of spiced ale at the barstool beside her. They had arrived separately, the timing coincidence, but this was the only tavern open to the lower classes without any fears of being drugged or raided. So the happenstance was not terribly surprising. Though Estinien had seated himself next to her in the near empty tavern, he proceeded to spend the entire night staring ahead of him, looking around only once to catch the proprietor’s eyes for another round. Odd as he ever was, there was comfort in his presence. Her normal high-leveled anxious watch of her surroundings dropped by margins. She took the respite graciously, and so they sat in silence and drank.
Standing as the cathedral bells sang of midnight, she placed a hand on his shoulder to bid him goodnight. Everywhere as far as the eye could see and ear could hear was war, and each sleep was precious. She'd doubtfully learn of it, but hoped tonight had afforded him the same sliver of peace it had her.
She was three paces away from her stool when Fray screeched, a figure appearing behind her. Cursing at herself, she turned on a gil and came helm to helm with Estinien. His tankard sat drained on the bartop. He took two steps towards her, forcing her to take equal back until she hit a paneled partition. His arms reached up, caging her: one bending at the elbow, his forearm landing beside her head. Soundless.
There was a pregnant pause; neithers’ visors allowed much of their expressions to peek through signaling their thoughts.
Fray's fear cooled into frustrated grumbling, and her head crooked slightly, personally unfazed. She held up a hand from around Estinien to the room, hearing what could only be Sidurgu's chair flip backwards in haste to stand. Gibrillont had sat his cleaning down, arm reaching under the bar in anticipation of trouble. Titles like Warrior of Light and Azure Dragoon did not grant immunity from retribution in this place.
She signed, "I'm fine. It’s handled. Thank you." It was impossible to miss Sid’s loud scoff as he righted his seat. She could feel his gaze boring through Estinien. That's fine. Had she been smaller, Estinien’s body would’ve blocked out the bar, swallowing her. But they stood near eye to eye and she could see Rielle over his shoulder, silent by the fireplace. Hands white knuckled around her cane, unblinking at them. Good girl. She turned her attention back to her dragoon.
Your dragoon? Fray purred. How quaint.
"How many men and women have you bed with... this?” The spiked nails of her crimson and gold gauntlet ran along his braced arm, metal clicking over metal, dipping into the flesh of his inner elbow. "A doubtful few I imagine."
Estinien’s teeth ground together, lips curling into a sneer. The pop of his jaw was audible in the deathly silent tavern. His breath smelled of swill, but she'd watched him all eve. Two steins would not–could not–rock him. Drinking was a pretense. A show. He would never afford to lose his clarity of mind.
"Everyone is waiting on an answer."
Huffing, indigent. "Forget this." He pulled his forearm off the wall, turning to the ascending staircase to leave. In half a breath, Aven grabbed the lip of his collar, fingers sliding between the plate and his skin and swung him back to face her.
"I asked a question, but who said I wasn't interested?" Her soft but scratchy voice echoed, amplified louder by her helmet, the shine of her ruby red eye peeking through her visor. He always was drawn to that side. How curious.
Aven held him there, calmly eyeing the planes of his mouth, before releasing him with a jerk to walk to her room knowing he would follow.
She had small permanent accommodations in nearly every major city-state, but well. Times were different. Though she was an honored ward of House Fortemps, she'd been calling the Forgotten Knight her home as of late. Fire was already crackling in the hearth on her arrival.
She entered first, and he closed the door behind him, the latch locking.
“Nothing changes our mission, our work.” She walked to the wall opposite of the bed, lifting her helm and resting it on the top of her armoire. “You do not stop until I call a name that isn't yours. Estinien .” She punctuated. “Or my shadowed companion comes to play. You've met him. He doesn't ask questions like I do. And you don't touch my armor. My ears, my tail.”
“You have a tail?”
“What many more things elude your knowledge, I wonder.” Her head dipped, musing at the scratched wood and the polish of her gear. Aven met his eye, challenging and steadfast.
“So tell me, what are your rules? Plain and simply, Azure Dragoon. We do not start until I have them.”
Estinien crossed his arms in a huff, shifting weight on his feet. “What is there to say? Do not speak of this to anyone.” Aven scoffed.
“Perfect, then.” She pointed to the floor at the foot of the bed. “Kneel and do not move. No, no. You keep yours on.” His lip curled, but did not protest further, abiding her instruction.
Practiced, she peeled away her armor, savoring the delay and creaks of impatience from her companion. Bit by bit layers fell away, carving out her silhouette. Scarred muscle rippled and glowed in the firelight, white freckles illuminated like stars on the soft and hard planes of her body. Her back turned to him for but a moment, teasingly, to reveal the rounds of her ass and the wine red puff of her tail. Discarding her bra, she faced him, hair cascaded down her bare shoulders, framing her breasts.
She stalked towards him, predatory. Presented before him, Aven tipped his head back with a delicate hand under his jaw, thumb caressing his bottom lip. His helmet hid his eyes but it was of no matter. She needed only his mouth.
“Stay still.” Aven danced her fingers across his frame, finding enough purchase to bring a leg over his shoulder, foot landing on the bed behind them. His breath an ilm away from where she needed him. Leg secured, she grasped the curved horns of his helm, steering him to the gap between her thighs. He growled deeply from being handled, sending shivers up her spine. Aven cooed and shuttered at the sight she’d deign to forget.
Estinien was slow to start, mouth working in odd shapes, hesitant. Missing his marks, slathering himself more than her. And then there were teeth. Aven jerked his head back with a yelp, a string of saliva snapping their connection. Her brow furrowed, “None of that. Can’t imagine you’re fond of your dick being bit.”
“Relax your jaw,” she sighed after a beat, her warning feeling sufficient. Guiding him back, Aven controlled his movement with the reins of his horns. “Flat your tongue, just like–good good .” Her instruction soon abated after a few minutes; Estinien learned where to suck and lick, needing only her hands to lead him, letting Aven fall to moans. His steel fingers roamed up her thighs, palming her ass, pressing her closer still. Devouring her. The play of hot and cold, of steaming lips and smooth darksteel sent her over the edge, spilling herself down his tongue and chin, dripping onto the worn floor. She ground herself against him, a mewling cry as her thighs shook. Bending over, she curled tight around his head and shoulders, waiting for the convulsions to cease.
Deliberately unfolding herself, she dropped her leg from around his shoulder and cupped her hands around his cheeks, a soft lopsided smile. Flushed with sultry eyes, she was enamored by the little wisps of heat steaming from his helmet. He panted, shifting, hard under his armor. Her fingers soothingly scratched the crook of his jaw, feeling soft stubble. Quite a treat with Elezens , she mused, humming aloud. She slipped her hands further back to find the pressure releases of his visor, releasing it with a click, and stared at his pale eyes for the first time. Aven gently gasped. Estinien tried looking away in mild protest but the effect was lessened by his blown out pupils. She was reverent.
And then, Aven finally– finally – leaned down to kiss him. With the tilt of their heads, she pulled his helmet away. Her hands carded through his long silver hair, excitement and pleasure bubbling up at how unfairly beautiful he was.
Maybe he was right to hide himself, she mused. For as firm and brooding as he acted in the world, he was deliciously pliant.
And inexperienced, added Fray.
But he is not without want to try. She wrapped a fist in the back of his hair and pulled them but a few ilms apart. She needed to watch him.
“Could you taste it?” She asked, breathy and genuine. His face contorted in confusion, not understanding the question. Gods, he was pretty . Lips puffed and glistening, parted slightly, just asking to be bit. She tightened her grip in his hair, face soft, bringing her voice to a whisper.
“Could you taste your high commander? Just last eve we shared a bed. I'd thought you would recognize him.”
Estinien roared, on his feet in an instant. Eyes blazing, he grabbed tight to her bare waist; clawed gauntlets biting deep and harsh into her skin, sure to bruise, before throwing her onto the furs laid out on her bed. She grinned wickedly.
His hand came around her throat, the fury of Halone stealing her breath. His weight landed firmly on her hips and thighs, cold darksteel sending gooseflesh up her body. Fray seethed in contrast, rippling her skin, warning alarms at Estinien’s inexperience; he was choking her. Aven moaned, eyes rolling back in her head. Fray’s screams rose, turning on her, You fucking like this?
Estinien pressed down onto her, pushing her into the mattress; his mouth meeting hers in an aggressive kiss, all teeth and tongue and spittle. He grabbed her breast, kneading it roughly, her nipple catching on the gaps of his gloves. Every few seconds he stumbled into something pleasurable, electric shocks up her spine but the space between was... Difficult.
She could feel Fray rage at the seams of her mind, ready to burst. She had warned Estinien of her… possible guest, but it was much too early for their acquaintanceship. Fine. Enough. Aven curled her hand around Estinien’s, easily prying it free from her neck. With a wheezing gasp, she felt Fray simmer back from boiling over.
Wait until Thancred sees these bruises, Fray jeered.
That’s the point.
Why do I even try?
His wrist clasped in her hand, she easily flipped the two of them over, and in his shock grabbed the sides of his neck firmly, the strong pulse of his blood thrumming against her fingers. She took delicate care to not crush his windpipe. "Hold me like this next time," she cooed in his ear, legs straddling his chest, careful of the sharper horns and points of his armor. Her eyes rolled back, her sex rocking against the center ridge of his chest piece. She kissed him hard before coming away with a gasp, pawing at the straps of his armor. " Off now ."
It was a haze of buckles and clasps, an unceremonious clatter of layered plate hitting the wood floor. His padded underlayer was damp with sweat. He paid it no mind; Aven lost hers. Haste slowed to a delicate reveal of his trousers, brushing her hands teasingly around the straining outline of his cock.
You're depraved.
Shut the fuck up; you’re the voyayer.
Carefully laces were undone and the last of his clothes puddled to the floor. His pants were stained through; his cock looked painful. Gods Aven was hungry.
She walked him backwards, the pads of her fingers denting his pectorals until his legs hit the side of the mattress, guiding him to sit. Kneeling before him, Aven preened, tucking loose hair behind her ear and rested her cheek on his thigh. She shifted forward and nuzzled the crook of his pelvis, hands wandering in loose circles under his thighs to the thin of his waist. Lust tunneled her vision to the milky beads spilling over the head of his cock. Wide doe eyes looked up and held him in reverie.
But before her mouth could savor this moment, her hands wrapped around his base, heavy and swollen, and he was undone.
Aven’s bangs caught most of it; white ribbons stark against wine red hair. Estinien’s groan rumbled the length of his body, shaking and sudden.
Fray laughed at them cruelly in the distance.
She wiped her eyes, blinking, surprise and a twinge of disappointment schooling into a playful smirk. Hands still on the base of his dick, she gently pulled up the shaft, twisting on the downstroke, massaging out the last of his tremors.
“Good boy,” she praised. “We’re both even now.”
Aven brought her head down once more, the flat of her tongue dragging up the length of him, circling her mouth around his head.
His hands threaded into her hair in an instance, a welcomed sensation, before he jerked her away, knocking her balance.
Fray steamed.
Aven began to side with him.
Estinien's knuckles flexed, knotting in the hair by her ears. She stared up at him, the lustful fog fading at the edges. Shifting eyes, teeth near to crack against themselves, strained tendons of his neck.
Embarrassment.
That's a first.
Haurchefant and Aymeric were the first Ishgardian men she'd ever known, equally shameless in their desires. Haurchefant being the more sensually flirtatious of the two. Comparing them and Estinien had perhaps been a fool's errand.
Fray mentally smacked her.
As if to not startle a skittish hunt mark, she slowly stood up and slid onto his lap, knees tucking around his hips. Her heat pressed against his, gently massaging the slick between them. She rested her hands on his chest, rubbing small circles up to his shoulders and arms, untangling his fingers from her hair.
"I need to go–"
“No, no. Don't. Please. I enjoy your company. There's nothing to be ashamed–”
“ Stop .” His hands clenched her biceps, stilling her.
Aven froze. Patient. For now. He made a look like he didn't expect her to listen.
“I've.. I've never. Not with. Anyone. Fuck.”
“And–?”
He couldn't respond.
“I assumed at least you and Aymeric had–”
“Yeah. Right. With his infatuation for you?”
“Before me.” Aven amended, rolling her eyes.
“...We were both busy.”
"After me then?”
A weighted pause. “You plan on leaving?”
“You intend to stay?”
Estinien snapped, “If you hurt him–”
She raised her hands in surrender, face hard, their childish game lost of any charm. Her voice dropped low, gritty from one too many diplomatic meetings and the bands of purpling bruises on her neck.
“Of anyone, you know. You know my job. My only job is to harm myself in place of others. He is the one–the one –good thing in my life right now. The single normality that keeps me from becoming merely a soulless godsdamn weapon. You think I don't know what I am?
“His blood will stain my hands, true as night. Hells, I've already hurt him.” She hated to speak the words aloud, giving power to realities she wished to unmake. Her shadow grew long in the dim firelight. “He knows I will leave. That I must leave. But for this moment, for these short, blissful moments hidden in his castle in the sky, I am there. For him. But what of you?” she jabbed.
“In his sleep he calls your name. In fear, in bliss. Your name is honey on his tongue. Talks less and less of himself each night and more of you. His other half, he calls it. I’m beckoned to his chambers and he’s staring at the cathedral’s spires hoping to catch a glimpse of you.” Her eyes narrowed, ears flattening back, and hissed, “So why the hells are you naked under me? Here? And not there crying his name? Thal’s fucking balls , you cunt.”
She ran her palms over her eyes, tangling frustratingly in her hair. “What did you expect tonight? Why now? Why me?”
“Because you're you,” he answered plainly.
Aven made an exasperated sound, ears flying up. “Oh, well thank you . That solves it.”
A low growl roiled underneath her, and she growled back. “If you stopped running away for a moment, you'd see that he's been waiting for you.”
Aven leaned back slightly, letting her words hang in the humid air before him. Allowing herself the chance to step back from a ledge.
The sound of their breath and the lick and crack of fire saturated the room.
“I bear the weight of my people's vengeance,” Estinien said, cutting through the silence. “But not his displeasure. Tonight proves on which side of him I should stand.”
“He's never been with a man,” Aven softly interjected. “And only one before me, should you know. Naivety holds little ground.”
Another pause. She tried a different angle, “You never touched yourself?”
“Hardly. A few times in my youth. Hidden from my brothers. The neighbor's girl and I snuck away but were found before we–” His voice trailed off. “Never after that.” Estinien shuttered with waves of a memory best unspoken.
“And tonight?”
“The first time we were alone without the boy or the witch.”
“But me?”
“I would not find a knife in my back come morning.” Aven's heart skipped a beat when he pointed that mirror at her. “Sex is above my station,” he continued. “An unnecessary distraction at best. Sacrilegious in the eyes of the Holy See at its worst. Better men have lost their lives for less.”
“I will admit only once to jealousy, Warrior. I had thought myself content until he first spoke of you many moons ago. My import threatened by admiring affections. Bedding and wedding, sireing younglings was for others–not us–I believed. I was wrong about him.” Frozen words tumbled from his lips, a dam broken somewhere in his chest. It was the most Aven heard him speak at once, and she dared not staunch the flow.
“I prefer to travel alone; to spare myself from the mournful whimpers of dying men asking for their wives and soldiers fucking each other through their watch. I do not understand it. But he does. I know the joy you’ve brought him…
“I had to know for myself, ere I grievously falter in your stead.” His lips sealed with an inhale, his piece fully spoken. Estinien searched her eyes for apprehension or mockery but found only overwhelming affection and affirmation.
Aven cradled his face. “Nothing leaves this room, save our trust. Sid and Gibrillont have no reason to speak of this, of us. You are full free to go. To take your clothes, leave me to sleep in peace. But have I wronged you tonight?”
“No. It's been fine. Good even.”
“Then permit us to try again.”
///
“He's quite soft, the base of his neck is so tender. His collarbones are beautiful,” Aven waxed poetically. “And if you bite right here,” her mouth hovered at the dip at the top of his hip bone. She sank her teeth in, suckling to work a bruise into his pale skin. Estinien gasped, eyes shot wide; his legs kicked out and hands came to her head, undecided if to pull her away or push her closer. Aven giggled, moving her ministrations down an ilm before soothing the marks with feathered kisses. “He comes undone.”
///
Aven slipped him in, and they shuttered in tandem with low moans, hearts racing. She pulled him in close, stretching up his torso, arms wrapped around his neck and back. Her face tucked into his collar, hands twisted in his hair. Her breath steamed in the hollow under his ear.
“Fuck, you feel amazing, Estinien,” his name a quiet rumble. Her knees hugged his sides as she rocked slowly, her clit catching the dips of his lower abdomen. The firm curves of his chest in decedent contrast to her breasts pressed tight against his. His hand wrapped around her ass, fingers spreading her slightly, controlling her bounce, as the other crossed along her back to grab her shoulder, holding her in a fierce embrace.
Blissed beyond belief, she barely heard Fray wonder, When was the last time our dragoon was held?
“Aven”, he moaned. So deep in timbre, she felt it in her pelvis, squeezing, sighing.
Her head lulled. “Hmm yes?”
“Aven. Aven ,” He chanted, leaning them down to the flat of the bed, her head landing back to the rumpled pillows. Her arms stayed locked, while her legs fell to the side, hips tilting up, opening herself to him.
“Estinien,” she beckoned. He pulled his face from beside her temple to look at her flushed cheeks and parted lips, soft eyes that flickered with ambient firelight. “Fuck me.”
He brought their mouths together with a possessive growl, feet digging back into furs and the baseboard of the bed, bracing himself before pulling back and rocking into her.
Shit. Fuck .
Aven mewled, clawing at his back, holding for dear life. His body was honed to jump between rooftops and the spines of dragons. He was made to rut into her soft heat. Her hands fell to grab at the open slats of the headboard, wood groaning in her grip.
Sitting up slightly, he looped arms under her legs, and without breaking his pace, folded her, knees drawn up to her lower ribs. His hands came to the thin of her waist, the delicious pressure of each finger finding hold. His mouth kissed and bit down her chest before sucking at her nipples, a trail of spittle decorating her freckled skin.
“Yes– yes –just like that. Good boy. Good fucking boy.”
He adjusted himself, setting one of her legs down to bend her knee over his shoulder, scissoring their pelvises. He dropped his weight on her, forearm to the side of her head, not unlike the start of their evening, pressing her down.
“I can't hold–,” he breathed into her mouth between kisses.
“Good good,” she panted. “I'm nearly there.”
Aven unwound a hand from the bed frame to slide between their stomachs to rub circles on her clit between thrusts.
“Faster, my lord. Faster.”
The bed frame rocked and squealed louder and louder, knocking thick wood against the carved stone of the walls.
The echoing din resolved in a wash of ecstasy and pulses of wet heat where they were joined. Estinien roared victoriously. Aven's yell broke in her throat, teeth and pussy clenching around his name and his cock. They came down slowly, breathing heavily into each other, sticky with sweat and semen.
He blinked his eyes open, having shut them minutes ago unwittingly; jaw working around the sight of Aven splayed out underneath him, chest heaving. He carefully let down her leg, massaging the tendons of her knee and thick muscle of her thigh with one hand, sending aftershocks up her body.
She wiped her slick hand on the furs before bringing them to his sweat soaked brow, neatening his mused hair, finger tips skimming his temples, clearing his eyes. She brought her hands to his cheeks and pulled him close for a chaste kiss and turned him onto his side to share a pillow. The movement slipped him from her, and they both moaned in the kiss. Aven could feel him start to leak down her leg.
She shifted to lay across him, humming contentedly. Her ears and tail flicked in satisfaction. He put a possessive arm around her, lips on the crown of her head.
“You deserve peace, Estinien,” she murmured, eyes drooping in exhaustion. “I just have one favor to ask of you.” She waited until his chest rumbled in consent. “Stay the night so I may wake to you in the ‘morrow.” Her fingers followed the crisscrossed scars on his chest.
He was silent for a moment. “You know I cannot promise that.”
“Then promise me your trust.” Aven propped herself up on her elbow to hold his gaze. “That your lance is true and our blades never cross. That my back is guarded where'er we go.”
“Nay–” he started, shaking his head at Aven’s soured expression. “I cannot give what I've already sworn. You have me, Warrior”.
Her expression melted, “It’s Aven. Please.”
“You have me, Aven.”
“As I you, Estinien.”
Satisfied, she nested back into his arms. “Aymeric is lucky to have you,” she whispered. His breath fluttered in her hair.
Night took her, lulled to sleep by the steady thrum of Estinien’s heart. And when she woke, she was cleaned, tucked under the sheets. Fireplace a mere crackling embers.