adelphoi | (no subject)

[ 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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ 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. ]