adelphoi | (no subject)

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[ would that she had made it sooner..

ten years seems not so very long a time, but for alisaie is has been as a lifetime. so much has happened, so much has changed, she has lost, and grown, and changed, she has faced endless threats to her home, and the perils and tribulations of motherhood. she has lived.

but she has never, ever forgotten her promise. she would find him. she would reach him. and so she has. she can only hope that she has not come too late.

securing a path to eos was not so difficult, but learning how to travel that path without giving up her life had taken years to unravel, and even having survived the storm, hydaelyn is ever a world in chaos. crisis after crisis, primal after primal, the battles never cease, and alisaie cannot well abandon her duty to the scions for her own personal endeavors. still, she works hard, she sleeps little, every spare moment is spent in research, poring over sharlayan's libraries, speaking with ul'dah's leading aetherologists, studying the paths of aether that connected hydaelyn to its shattered echoes and devising a way to travel those paths without becoming lost, undone by the lifestream. that she will be taking a very precious passenger is all the more reason she needs to be sure of it. risking her own life is one thing, but she will not risk louisoix's. it may take decades to secure her way to eos, for alisaie's recklessness does not extend to her son.

the last year is the hardest. they are so close, picking apart the details had taken agonizingly long, and those last few months seemed to stretch into centuries before at last, at last the path was ready.

it would seem that she has arrived none too soon. the world is black, and the journey dangerous, but she remembered prompto's tales of daemons and these ten years have only seen her grow her strength. she cuts down those in her path and pushes chobi hard, and it is weeks before she is at last able to trace prompto's steps to hammerhead, and then, to insomnia. the sky is alive over the city, flashing blue and red so brightly it can be seen from hammerhead. she leaves louisoix there, exhausted from the road, to sleep deeply while she rides hard to the crown city, fueled by desperation and adrenaline alone. she will not have worked so hard and come so very far to lose him, not now, not like this, not after all they have been through, how long they have waited.

the lights in the sky have quieted by the time she arrives, but alisaie knows not what that means - she knows only what she must do. keeping to the lights, she follows the trails of black blood and ichor toward what can only be the palace, and when they reach the stairs she leaps from chobi's back, rapier in hand, to dash up the main thoroughfare, her hair wild and her breath quick and her clothing torn and filthy.

please. please. let her not be too late. ]

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[ she cannot help but smile against his mouth when he all but melts into her touch, groaning in that satisfying way that he always has when she's washed his hair. she could never forget how much he loves this, how many nights she spent with his head on her chest, her fingernails scratching over his scalp, how many occasions she ruffled his hair while passing by.

tonight calls for a bit of special treatment. so she takes her time, working the soap through his hair carefully, drawing her fingernails over his skin, rubbing slow circles at the nape of his neck, tugging gently at the roots of his hair. he deserves spoiling tonight.

her braid is a bit more formidable now than it had once been, so after a moment she drops her hands to assist him, her mouth curving into a smile, her voice a soft whisper. ]

What do you think of our little Louie?

[ It's a question Prompto hardly needs to answer, given the way his smile blooms against hers, but he is, of course, happy to voice his thoughts as well. He'd be happy to shout them from the rooftops, to carry Louie in his arms and show him to literally every person he knows - in due time. For now, he laughs a little breathlessly while she guides his hands through her braid. Gods, did she always have this much hair? ]

He's perfect.

[ Unquestionably. Prompto may have only just met him, but of this, he is sure. He is absolutely the child the both of them always wanted, to one the ached for when they had been unable to conceive on El Nysa. Though it hurts, knowing how much of his life he has missed, Prompto is so, so very glad his son was there to keep Alisaie company on Hydaelyn, until they could be reunited as a family once more.

Tears spring again to his eyes, a sob catching in his throat. ]

H-he's everything we ever dreamed of...

[ His heart squeezes, exquisitely bittersweet. ]

[ nothing feels better than the shape of his smile against her mouth. ten long years, but her skin still remembers the feel of it, her heart still remembers the warmth his smiles bring, still as radiant now as they had ever been. life had been so dull and grey without him in it, muted, muffled.

how could she ever have survived, without little louie? ]

He certainly is.

[ she whispers, while working the water now through his hair to whisk the suds away. ]

You will find you have much in common. I can hardly wait for you to get to know him.

[ She washes the suds from his hair, her fingers bringing a cleansing, purified feeling with them, and it feels like she's washing away far more than the dirt and grime and sweat from taking on the nastiest daemons the Starscourge could cough up, and the Infernian himself. It's as if she's washing away ten years of pain, of heartache and longing, just like that. It will take time for their hearts to heal and fully bond together again, but in this moment, it's so easy to feel as if everything is right as it ever could be.

At least he finishes untangling her braid, reaching for the shampoo so he can do to her as she has done to him, just as they've always done. This simple, intimate act of washing one another has always brought them closer, but there is something particularly satisfying about doing this with her here and now, like they are breaking down even the phantom of walls that might have arisen between them. ]

Yeah? Gotta say I appreciate his choice of stuffed animal. [ He laughs, quiet but thick, as he draws the shampoo through her hair. ] Gods, I-I can hardly wait...

[ Were the boy not so clearly exhausted, Prompto would have kept him up all night, if he could have, making up for lost time. ]

[ it truly is a necessary thing, standing beneath the crash of warm water, tending to one another in the simplest, most basic of ways. so many times they have done this, found comfort and intimacy in the simple act of washing one another, and were she a poet alisaie would no doubt have words to properly appreciate this sort of ritual cleansing, how it scours not only their bodies but their hearts and souls, but she must instead settle for the feeling.

with prompto fully rinsed now, alisaie turns her back to him to more easily shake out her hair and offer him easier access. ]

Well, I taught him young to appreciate his father's truest love.

[ she teases, gently. ]

But you will have now all the time you need.

[ and she can hardly wait to see their relationship flourish. ]

[ His fingers sink deep into her hair as he lathers it up, gently pulling snarls loose and working in the suds. There's somehow more of it than he remembers, but that's just fine. It's just more of her to love, more of her to take care of, to adore, to touch. He tips his chin up to press soft little kisses behind her ears as he works down the length of her hair, until it is gleaming and clean. ]

I will. [ He chuckles softly. ] Your timing is...uncanny.

[ Had they arrived a day or two before, a year before, things would have been infinitely more complicated, and while Prompto would never, ever wish to be parted from them as long as he had been, if they were going to be separated so long, at least they've come now, to see the dawn in this world as it was always truly meant to be. ]

[ gods, it feels so good. she's filthy from the road of course, it's like as not been days since last she was able to wash beyond a simple wipedown, and few things feel quite so good as a hot shower when you're caked with grime and sweat.

but his fingers in her hair..

alisaie leans back into it gratefully, the weariness of her travel, of ten years worth of sleepless nights and hardworking days, finally catching up to her, settling deep into the marrow of her bones. it takes so much effort just to keep on her feet at all now that he's unraveling her seams with his gentle fingers. ]

Would that I could have come sooner..

[ uncanny is certainly right, but it's frustrating, too, that she had not arrived in time to help in any meaningful way, even if only to support him. ]

[ He continues to guide the water through her hair, nuzzling into that space behind her ear, breathing the scent of her skin, how that it is no longer buried beneath the dust of the road. It's been so long...but she smells just like he remembers, her skin still soft and warm. Gods, it's so good...if he never had to move from this place again, he would never complain. ]

You did everything you could. [ She should have no regrets there, as far as he is concerned. What he wouldn't give to have been reunited with her sooner, but that they have been reunited at all is nothing short of an impossible miracle. ] It's because of you, that the three of us are able to be together now.

[ He kisses the juncture of her neck and her ear once again, sucking in a hiccuping sob. ]

Thank you. Thank you, sweetheart...

[ much as she would like to berate herself for not being fast enough, strong enough, it is difficult to feel any regret at all when he holds her like this, his fingers in her hair, the warm press of his mouth hot against her skin. all this time he still remembers what she likes, how sensitive that tender little spot is, enough to send a shiver coursing down her spine. even if she still feels as if she's not done enough, it is impossibly not to feel joyful this night, to revel in the feel of his arms and the sound of his voice, gods how she had missed his voice, his laugh, the way he speaks her name, how it sounds rolling off of his tongue..

with her eyes closed, alisaie leans all of her weight back against him while the water rinses away the soap, the grime and dirt and sweat of the road. ]

You've no need to thank me.

[ she says softly, turning her head to drag her lips along the rise of his cheekbone, one hand rising to glide knuckles along his jawline. ]

We made a promise, remember? That no distance would keep us from one another.

[ There are no words that can describe how good it feels to have her lean into him like that, to feel her skin and her warmth against him, the pressure of her body such a solid reminder that she is here, that she is with him, and they never have to be apart again. If they can break the walls down that kept them in different worlds, then he has no doubt they can face anything in their future together.

Of course, he'd always known that. That's why he had made that promise. That's why he had never really given in to his fears, even after ten long years apart from her. He always knew it would come to this, that they would draw together again. ]

You're right. We did.

[ His arms tighten around her as he kisses the shower water from her neck, nuzzling against the nob of her spine meeting her neck. ]

And now we never have to part again.

[ They can be like this for the rest of their lives, whole and complete, a family, at last. ]

[ it's quite disgusting, really, their behavior, but after ten years apart they are due some long, loving sessions, and she can only be pleased for it. it still feels like a dream, like she will wake up soon enough in her own bed in the rising stones, alone, far from him. it almost makes her afraid to sleep at all.

but they must. besides, speaking of long love sessions - ]

Take me to bed.

[ she murmurs, his lips to her neck eliciting a sweet, warm shiver that sweeps down her body. what else could feel better right now than slipping between warm sheets with him, winding up together until there's nothing else in her mind but the scent of his skin? ]

[ They had both known how this night would end, even if it had gone unspoken until now. They've been apart so very long, and no deep kisses or sweet touches can truly repair them like making love will. Still, for all it may have lingered in the back of his mind while they have washed up, hearing her give voice to her desire sends a chill racing down his spine, contrasting with the heat that surges in his blood. It's been so long...ten long years since he's taken her to bed, and for as quick and eager as he may be, he will make it last, as deliberately and purposefully as he can.

He drags his lips up the sweep of her neck, his breath exhaling in a hot rush against her jaw. ]

Yes, sweetheart.

[ He reaches down to shut the water off, leaving silence in its wake, save for the sound of water dripping from their bodies. He takes his time as he at last steps away from her, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry her off, passing the towel gently over ever inch of her skin, his fingertips dragging over her goosebumps, his mouth trailing kisses as he completes his task. His lips linger near her scars, the one on her shoulder, the one across her middle, her leg, and the one at her hip...that one he gives extra attention to, the one he had given her, nuzzling against her hip, before at last he rises again, starting to towel himself off, too. ]

[ she knows she need not ask twice, but hearing him say yes is thrilling nevertheless. gods, how long she has waited to feel his kiss, his touch, to feel all of him against her and within her. ten years is a long, long time to go without the warmth of another's hands, most especially after having grown so accustomed to the feeling, to have learned what it was like to sleep beside someone, to wake to the smell of their skin and the rough rumble of their voice..

so she does not fight him when he dotes on her, when he carefully towels the water from her skin, dragging his lips over her body in ways that make her blood run hot, and her breath catch, her skin far too tight over her bones. she has missed this so completely, with her entire being..

of course, once he is on his feet again she is quick to return the favor, plucking the towel from his hands so she can run it over his body, though rather than kiss his skin as she goes she nuzzles to his neck and shoulder. the towel drags, and so too do her lips over the sharp rise of his collarbone, over the dusting of freckles on his shoulder, along the sensitive, straining tendon in his throat that leads to his ear, where she can whisper, her words little more than a soft, breathy gust. ]

I can wait no longer.

[ Her mouth brushes his skin, and by the time she finishes drying him off his breath is trembling with want, the inevitability of what comes next all but consuming him. They've done their waiting. They've stayed true, never gave in to their fear and doubts, they've waited for this, and now it is time to fully reclaim themselves, their relationship, their marriage. It has been a long time since he has touched or kissed her like this, but even so, he still knows her. He still know what she likes, what pleases and fulfills, and so he isn't nervous. Not anymore. He hasn't the thought for it.

He catches her mouth with his, lips parting hastily over hers, a vulnerable sound from his throat colliding with her lips as he dips his tongue into her mouth to taste her. His hands grip her hips, fingernails biting into her skin as he surges back towards the bed with her, guiding her until their legs collide with the bed, sending them sprawling upon it. He laughs against her mouth, but it is soon replaced by a breathless sound of need as he crawls forward, his hands upon her in an instant, wasting no time in giving them what they both seek.

It's...different, than he remembers. Maybe it's just the passage or time, or maybe it's the way their bodies body have grown and changed. Maybe it's that they are older now, hardened and weathered by the world and their struggles, maybe it's that it's been so long that this just all feels...new again. But even for all it feels different, it echoes with everything it always has, with their love, their fierce dedication, their unyielding care and attention to one another's wants and needs. Different is not a bad thing at all. It's good, so damned good. Her hands and her mouth and her body, her voice that asks him for more, the eager, pleased whines shared between them. She fills up every space around him, beneath his skin, between his bones and in his blood, and he gives her everything in return. He gives her all of himself, just as he promised he would when they were wed.

When at last he slumps against her, he is spent utterly, dizzy, panting hard and covered in a sheen of sweat. So much for that shower...but that is a thought far, far back in his mind right now. Really, there is room for no thought in his mind right now — only her, the heady scent and taste of her skin as he buries his nose against her collar, breathing her in, curling around her like a vine as sweet aftershocks send tremors coursing down his spine. His heart rails against his ribs, deafening in the near-silence, and after his breathing evens out, her turns his mouth to her ear, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses there before whispering, ]

I love you.

[ it is, of course, everything she had expected it to be, everything she has missed and ached for these long, lonely years. certainly she's spent many quiet nights thinking of him, but that is hardly a replacement for the feel of his hands and his mouth, the heat of his kiss, the weight of his body..

gods, how she has missed it. by the time she slumps back her chest feels tight, hot tears pricking the corners of her eyes like needles, her inhales sharp and exhales shivering. sex can feel emotionally overwhelming even at the most average of times, but now? she's overcome with joy and fulfillment, with mourning for the years lost between them, with an unbelievable relief from a tension she has nursed for a decade's time.

a sound moves in her throat, half-whine, half-sob, and she turns her face into his neck, burying it against sticky skin, breathing in the sweet scent of him, of sweat and sex, the familiar smell of his hair.. ]

I love you..

[ she whispers in return, in a voice gone tight, her grasp around him gripping hard. she surely will not be letting go of him any time soon. ]

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