#aaric

The only thing heard was his own feet tapping against the polished marble floors. It was night, stars twinkled against the dark sky, only slightly darker than the bags beneath his eyes. Aaric was exhausted. He'd been in meetings all day, and getting to see Violet didn't make up for having to deal with Xaden's stubbornness.

He saw the attendant coming toward him, and was half tempted to run away. He could not deal with anything else today.

Once he reached the King, he spoke, keeping his voice low, "Sire, I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour, but you were not available earlier."

"It is alright Bastion. What is it you have to tell me," he says with a heaving sigh.

"The Queen decided to take herself on a rather lavish shopping spree"

Aaric raised a brow, "So? How is my wife treating herself a problem"

"It isn't!" The attendant rushes out, knowing how quick his King can be to anger when it comes to matters on the queen, "It's just— the wares she purchased are of the... unsavory variety. And she did so without regard for who might see her."

He released another lengthy sigh. Yes, she could spoil herself with whatever she wanted, but some things did require a certain amount of secrecy to uphold their image.

"Thank you for making me aware Bastion. You're dismissed."

Aaric makes his way to their shared bedroom, dreading the conversation he had to have with her. He rarely ever won. Truthfully, he didn't know how she did it. He'd confront her, she'd make a counter argument, they'd go back and forth, next thing he knows, it's the next day. He doesn't quite remember the details, but he remembers that he had caved.

His legs carry him there without much thought, stopping before the entrance and wondering if going in was worth it. Perhaps he could sleep elsewhere for the night.

No. She would have his head for not coming back to their room.

Aaric enters silently, a habit he hadn't managed to shake from when he was younger.

"Good evening, my love." She has always been able to sense his presence, no matter how quiet he was.

"Good evening, Y/n"

"Ooh, first name, am I in trouble?" She asks with no true concern.

"Yes, indeed you are," he answers, voice even as he makes his way to her. Aaric places himself behind where she is sitting in front of a mirror removing her make up.

"I see. Pray tell, what exactly have I done?"

He begins to brush out her hair as he speaks, "You know I love you, that I want you to have whatever your heart desires, but you cannot buy sexual items in public, my darling"

"And why not? Everyone has been whispering about when we are going to produce an heir, especially those pretentious pricks that help you run this place, yet when I do something that shows it might happen soon, I'm in the wrong?"

Aaric separates the locks into three parts so he can begin a loose braid —her preferred style for sleep. "My dove, we have an image to uphold. It is unbecoming of a queen. You know I don't care, but I do not wish for you to face ridicule"

"Unless it harms someone, I should be able to do what I like, so until one of the prudes faint, I say 'to hell with it'. Although I suppose it won't be that long then; I can't imagine much oxygen is able to reach them while the heads are shoved so far up their arses"

Aaric loved your crude tongue, and your sharp wit; it was one of the many reasons he fell in love with you. Right now though, he cursed it because he wanted so badly to laugh.

He had to stop, and close his eyes for a moment to compose himself. When he opened them again, he took the time to tie off the plait before articulating a response.

"A fair argument, however, even those without titles would not be so open about it, and so their appeal is justified. I fear our time at Basgiath has desensitised us to flaunted sexual escapades."

She hums, neither confirming nor denying that he may have a point.

She lifts herself from the chair with all the grace of the queen she is, and struts to the side of the bed.

"Perhaps..." she drawls while fiddling with the loose knot of her robe, "But more importantly, I need your opinion on my new outfits," She allows the silky fabric to fall from her shoulders, revealing that she dons black lingerie rather than a night gown.

Aaric takes in a sharp breath, emerald green eyes roving over her form. He tilts his head upward in prayer. Whether he is praying for the strength to survive his wife, or that no one will require his attention tomorrow morning, even he is unsure.

"My love, are you trying to kill me?" His voice betrays nothing of his inner turmoil.

She giggles, "Why would I try to kill you when taking you apart is so much more fun?" Y/n sports an evil, taunting grin, and if he had any hope of winning this battle before, it was gone now. Vanquished. Demolished. Terminated. Other intellectual synonyms.

"Come, sit," She ushers him over to the ottoman, "I have an entire collection to show you"

The excitement colouring her words is clear, and he resigns himself to his fate.

Y/n struts in and out of the en suite bathroom, each time donning a new scandalous two piece. Every set is always somehow worse than the last. At some point, the pressure in his briefs becomes too much.

"Alright, what about thi—" Her eyes trace down his arm to see where his hand has traveled. " Aaric! Hands off! You're supposed to be giving feed back."

It takes all his will power to retract his hand. He swallows thickly as she spins around before him, showing off every angle.

It's torture.

"My love, you look gorgeous in all of them, you always do. There is no need for me to see them all now. Perhaps we could stop for tonight."

She peeks her head out the door, "But I've only got two more, and I saved the best for last"

"We need rest, darling. I can see them some other time"

Her voice comes out indignant, "If the first thing on your mind after seeing all of these is rest, then I need a refund, " she huffs, shutting the door again.

Rest was the very last thing in his mind right now.

The door opens once again, and he immediately has to avert his eyes to preserve the last fraying ends of his sanity.

"Though if you insist, I suppose I can show you the last two tomorrow," Her tone is casual, but her actions prove sinful. She saunters in naked.

"Darling," His voice is strained, "where are your clothes?"

"Why?" She inquires with a tilt of her head and feigned innocence, "Do you see something you don't like?"

Aaric's knee jerk reaction is to scoff at the very idea, "Of course not"

"How would you know?" Her tone turns dangerous with temptation, daring him to turn his head, "You're not looking"

Slowly, like those scenes in a horror movie where the here the monster behind them, he swivels his head around to face her, and opens his eyes.

"Fuck me"

"Gladly"

Y/n shoves him full force onto the bed, and wastes no time climbing on top of him. She undoes all the unnecessary buttons and zips that keeps his shirt on with swift expertise.

If anyone needs me before noon, they're gonna have to fuck right off. This is a much better use of my time.

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