Omfg that estinien fic was amazing!!!! Could you do the same type of thing (courting) with aymeric? I love u and ur writing bless
(Hey there. Sorry I’m late. I hope some Aymeric makes up for it? Fluff, angst, mild nsfw? Please enjoy! ❤)
You are reluctant to admit this, but it takes you a while to notice.
O great Warrior of Light, thy name is obliviousness.
You had thought his hand to be extended in friendship. It had not occured to you that his agenda may be of a different nature.
“A drink! We should make time for one!” That is what friends do, no? Have a drink together. Talk about the goings on in their lives. Friendly.
Have dinner together? Another thing friends do!
So it does not even phase you. You do not bat an eyelash. Do not stop to think - wait, is this not weird? No, because you are tired. Always starving when he asks you if you would like to join him for dinner. Thinking nothing of it as you are required to dress a bit more formally - though Aymeric had said it was perfectly fine to come as you were. He would not ask you to dress up for his own benefit. (His. Own. Benefit!)
So he invites you and you accept without thought of what it meant. Only thinking of your stomach! Free food was nothing to turn your nose up at as an adventurer.
Delicious free food? With warm, freshly baked bread? Wine that Aymeric had acquired to suit your particular tastes? And, somehow - magically, you think. For how could he have known? - your favored type of dishes always on the menu? Forget about it. You’re already drooling.
So the minute you step foot in Ishgard, after a long line of tedious questing, and spot his manservant baring an envelope with a familiar wax seal? You feel yourself drool. Hear your stomach let out a loud, pleading growl. He had conditioned you!
You accept the invite with a delighted smile. Breaking the seal then and there to read his words. You smile and laugh, looking to his manservant with a warm grin. “I’d be delighted!”
And so again you find yourself in fancy dress, sitting across from Aymeric as you tell him tale after tale of your many exploits.
Aymeric listens with rapt attention, smiling and laughing at all the right parts. And you feel so very thankful to have known someone like him. To be able to speak freely of all the truly ridiculous things that had happened to you, and to have them be believed without a hint of doubt.
He is always looking in to your eyes. Ever smiling. You had not felt so very welcomed since… well, it had been some time. You should have realized. The way he was looking at you. More than just the Warrior of Light. More than merely friendship.
You tell him of your most recent accomplishment, something that you are particularly proud of. Aymeric positively beams with delight for you, “A drink then! Please, we must celebrate your victories!”
Your denials die on your tongue. Aymeric calls for wine, and you drink. One glass turning to several. To then another bottle. Your tongue loosened with fine wine as Aymeric prompts tale after tale from your liqour loose lips.
At some point you move from the dining room to sit instead on an overstuffed loveseat.
The intimacy of the situation flying over your head until you’re in the middle of a tale - gesturing with your wine glass, when you turn your head to look at him and bump against him with your wine glass.
Wine sloshes over the rim, splashing over your fingers, and you watch in horror as it spills into his lap. Staining what surely must be an expensive pair of finely tailored slacks.
“Oh!” You gasp and curse. “I am so sorry!” You search your pockets for a spare handkerchief and thankfully find one you had recently cleaned.
Without thought of your actions you lean in and blot at the wine you had spilled.
Offering a babble of apologies as you dab at his lap with your handkerchief. “What gets wine out? Salt? Or was it vinegar? Should we take your pants off?”
Aymeric jolts under your touch, making a choked sound low in his throat. His hands are large and warm as he catches yours between his own. Stroking the back of your hands with calloused fingers as he tugs your well intentioned fingers away from his lap.
“It’s fine. It’s fine!” Aymeric says with a grimace. Releasing your hands ans shifting uncomfortably as he drags one of the throw pillows into his lap.
“Ah…!” Your hands hang in mid air. He would surely stain his pillow that way…!
You had just groped the Lord Commander.
Had fondled his lap in your need to fix your clumsy mistake. And Aymeric…
You swallow hard. Eyes going wide.
Aymeric is very carefully not looking directly at you. Strain around his eyes. His full lips pursed in discomfort. A flush rising in his face to dust across his perfect cheekbones. His rich voice tinged with embarrassment as he says to you, “I had not meant for you to… At least not like this! I only meant for you to find your ease this night. Pray do not think I expected more from you than that!”
“I… I’m sorry,” You say slowly. Measuring your words carefully. “Are we…? My lord, are we on a date?”
Aymeric’s head whips around so fast you wonder if he’d just given himself whiplash. His eyes are wide, mouth parted in shock.
“I…!” He chokes. Falters. Looking into your face. Searching your eyes. And must find aught amiss. His hopeful expression wilts.
“I… had been courting you,” Aymeric says hoarsely. “For many moons now.”
You’re not sure what your face is doing right now, but it can’t be good for the face Aymeric makes in response.
He licks his lips. “You. Did not know?”
You make a small, keening whine in the back of your throat. “No,” You whimper. You had not known. Gods, he’d been courting you! This whole time! The dinners… The conversation. The casual touching. All the eye contact!
You feel very much the fool.
You stare at the pillow in his lap. The white knuckled grip of his fingers. You feel like the worst piece of shite.
Aymeric frowns, clearing his throat, “…Four moons now.”
You bury your face in your hands, the wine stained handkerchief brushing against your cheek. “I’m so sorry…!” You groan out, twisting from side to side in your horrendous embarrassment. “All this time…! Gods, and you kept asking me!”
You ate his food. Laughed at his jokes. Let him touch you - in what you thought to be a friendly manner! - and had left every time. Leaving Aymeric to no doubt feel as if he were doing something wrong. You had not responded to his advances!
You drag your hands from your face to look at him. Oh, gods strike you down.
Aymeric looked miserable.
His hands squeezing the pillow in his lap so very hard. It will never be square again. “I… Tell me, then. Was I not…? It was mine understanding that my… feelings for you were requited. Was I wrong in that belief? If so, then.. I must apologize if I caused you… any measure of discomfort.” It is clear he is struggling.
You shake your head, “No, no! You… You weren’t wrong! No, I also… to you! I just,” You falter and flush. Twisting the stained handkerchief between your fingers. “I had not hoped that you would feel that towards me. That I could be so lucky. I… I am sorry if, in my inattention, I caused you any upset. It was not mine intent. I only thought… that you were being friendly.”
Aymeric touches your hand and you look up at him.
His eyes so intensely blue. Those full lips curling up into a hopeful smile. “Perhaps, then, I should have made mine intentions plain.”
You bite your lip, feeling almost shy.
Aymeric shuffles closer, clasping your hands with his. Smiling that same warm smile. “It is mine intent to court you.”
You smile bashfully, leaning into him. “I would like that very much.”
Aymeric breathes a sigh of relief. Chuckling gently, “Good, good.”
You give a nervous laugh, squeezing at his fingers. “Would it be too forward if I asked for a kiss?”
Aymeric stills. Licking at his lower lip. “Perhaps if this were a normal courtship, yes. Yet I find that I wish for nothing more than to kiss you in this moment.”
Aymeric breathes deep, those blue eyes of his searing into you. “I would only ask that you forgive mine earlier… inattention.”
You snort out an incredulous laugh. Was he apologizing for being turned on? Ishgardians were *wild*!
Nevertheless, you play along, “I think I could forgive you this time. If only you promise to do it again.”
Aymeric blinks in surprise and you make your move. Dragging him down by fistfuls of his fancy dress shirt and laying claim to those full, seductive lips.
Aymeric grasps at your arms, sinking into your kiss with a low groaning moan. You take your time kissing him, slow and sweet. Until Aymeric is breathless and deliciously flushed.
You had four moons to make up for, after all.
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