#dawnsung

A break would be just what the doctor ordered, if he'd actually consulted a doctor; which he hadn't. Exhaustion lined near every contour of his body but finally, finally he was making progress in compensating for his blinded right side.

No longer did he bump into everyone he passed, misjudging the distance because he couldn't see. No longer did he miss his godsdamned mouth when he was eating. And now he was taking fewer strikes to his blind side when he trained, though the moons it had taken him to reach that point were plain to see in the tired set to his body and the shadows beneath his eyes even having had a reasonable night's rest.

A break, then.

And what better way to relax than to spend a day in the bustling port of Limsa Lominsa, beginning with browsing Hawker's Alley for breakfast? The morning's catch was in and there was a delectable fishy smell to the port. One entrepenurial soul had bought up a sizeable haul of said catch and was cooking it nearby, selling a host of seafood delicacies from miqa'bobs to simple pan-fried fish to crab cakes.

Sex beneath the boundless sky; that's the order of the day for these two.

There's something about Cathan that makes Maru want to be out in the open air, not cooped up inside when they lay together. The added bonus of the potential (however unlikely depending on how secluded they are) of being caught in the act only further heats his blood.

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𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅 ・ @dawnsung

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He doesn't know how long he's been about his task, seeing to the repair and upkeep of his armor and blade. He'd settled into the familiarity of it with an ease akin to breathing: the slide of whetstone across steel, the light scent of oil as it's massaged into his leathers, the deft repetition of pushing and pulling needle and thread as he mends tears in his coat. Tasks he knows he could leave to Tataru to have taken care of, but Thancred appreciates the simplicity of it, of working with his hands, even if the monotony of it gives his mind too much leave for wandering.

And wander it does, as is often the case when he's left to his own devices. It travels its usual route down memory lane, reminding him of all that he's lost, of all his failures. But where he once lingered on those feelings, now he uses them to fuel his determination to push his journey forward. For those he can yet save.

It is an odd thing, however, for the ever-vigilant Thancred to be taken unawares, even while seemingly lost in quiet contemplation. Whether it be that he's slipping in his age or he's simply been taken in by the unusually relaxed atmosphere of the Rising Stones and found himself in a rare moment where he might let his vigilance drop, he isn't certain—though for the sake of his pride, he's happy to err on the side of contentment.

This is how Daithi finds him now: so unusually preoccupied that he doesn't so much as glance at the Viera's movement in his peripheral until he feels lips on his cheek. He jolts in his seat, swiftly lancing the tip of his finger with the needle and thread he'd been so intently focused on. He mumbles a curse under his breath before turning a scowl—albeit a half-hearted one with no heat at all—on his affectionate assailant. He can't hold it for long; a few seconds at best before he huffs out a sigh and the scowl melts away into a crooked smile.

  ❝ Ever given a thought to espionage? I get the feeling you may have a knack for it. ❞

Setting the half-mended coat on the table before him, he leans back in his seat, stretching his arms over his head. An audible pop! comes from behind him and he lets out a small groan of relief, suddenly very aware of how much his back aches from too long spent hunched over.

but y'lhira wants to be just a little selfish tonight. tonight, he wants a moment along, even if it lasts only a few heartbeats.

the smile he wears is warm and tender, and he crosses the distance with light steps. he rests his hands carefully on aymeric's chest, leans up on the tips of his toes to press a tender kiss to the point of his chin. "do forgive me if the urgency spooked you. i simply... needed to see you."

" I did. I must extend my deepest apologies to you for the delay in reply; every occasion I find to finally put pen to paper, aught else draws me away. "

Perpetual apologizer, Aymeric de Borel. Time and time again, his most loyal of subjects and closest of comrades tell him he needn't fret over his inability to set time aside for something, ANYTHING, that wasn't his work, and time and time again, he regresses into that habitual routine of thrusting out genuinely guilt-laced apologies. Ishgard, though in a far better place than just a year ago, is still but a shell of its former self. Structures still must be mended--- trust and relationships, too. It will be decades yet before he may comfortably hold up the ' OLD ' next to the ' NEW ' and be SATISFIED with the changes, but progress, to any extent, is a reason to feel prideful.

The hefty stack of paperwork afront him THIS time is likely the WORST of the duties: Budgeting. Not that finances are TOO difficult to come by, betwixt the neighboring nations and beyond offering their uncontested support, alongside his OWN people working feverishly to donate what they could both monetarily and supplies-wise. 'Tis merely a lot to fill out, with a lot of money to delegate to a LOT of varying locations; thusly, it is plentiful, and it is ENDLESS. Even as he finishes one stack, rising from his chair to set it aside for eventual retrieval, another awaits him.

" I know, I am... not the finest of company, at present. Allow me to just--- "

It is, by no means, a simple feat to leave the lord shocked, SPEECHLESS. The kiss, albeit swift and chaste, has halted all manner of thought, and he is left to stare at the Miqo'te with eyes of ocean blues as wide as their likeness, and cheeks a blazing vermilion, that chauffeurs the warmth right up to the tips of his ears. " I-I... " His heart beats, defeaning, within the confines of his chest, and though he knows he should say something, ANYTHING, the words do not quite come to him as quickly as he would like.

" S-Spooked is... not... the term I would use. Rather... w-well, this is most unexpected, certainly, but... " He knows, he KNOWS, Y'lhira can feel the extent of his fluster through heartbeat and heat, but this is not quite a situation Aymeric is used to. Affection and romantic pursuits have played a pitifully MINOR role in his life beyond the occasional talk of a potential suitor that was never quite put into motion, thankfully. He prays this does not put a BLEMISH on his image in anyway.

" ... I am sorry. You are the first to... reduce me to so ill prepared and... flustered a state. " Aymeric finally nudges himself out of his own pit of hesitation, and lifts a hand to, ever so gently, take hold of Y'lhira's, where he fidgets with the other's fingers like an anxious, starstruck child. " ... such is to say, you... have my full attention now. "

"i wanna say the time was just never right, or the person was never right, but -- i guess i was a bit of a coward, too." cathan closes his eyes. since the very first day they met, not opening himself up willingly to maru has become a feat. something about him is so different. cathan can't quite explain it. "i'm not... that scared, with you. i dunno. i s'pose i just hope too fervently you're not gonna tear my heart in two."

he brings maru's hand up to his lips, kisses the back of it ever so tenderly. his heart jumps and stutters in his chest. "what i'm tryin' to say is... i trust you. and i'm... serious. i really am." if that isn't the most terrifying thought he's had in a while, cathan doesn't know what else is.

It's beautiful out there. Peaceful, relaxing and with the sunset bathing them in the last glow of the day, stunning. One arm pillowed the dragoon's head, the other rested on his stomach until Cathan reached for it and Maru let him position his hand as he willed, just feeling the way his lover's fingers explored the well-worn surface. His knuckles had split in a couple of places, scabbed over but an additional texture to explore besides the callouses, the weathered skin, the scars.

He felt the press of Cathan's lips to his hand through all of it and no doubt with an ear pressed to his chest, his fellow Miqo'te could hear the way even that small affection made the feline's heart near skip a beat. He remained quiet though, letting Cathan speak without interruption. For all Maru could be a chatterbox when he wanted to be, he definitely had the sense to understand when silence would speak louder for him and allowing his lover to speak his mind was one such instance.

Intertwining their fingers, Maru hummed softly. "It can feel like a vulnerability to let someone in, but it's not," he reflected quietly when it seemed his fellow Miqo'te had finished, watching the sun set but not really seeing it for the moment. "I'm grateful that you've allowed me, that you trust me."

He gave their joined hands a small squeeze, inhaled deeply and watched Cathan rise and fall with the motion of his chest as he did.

"I'll make no promises regarding what the future may hold, but please believe me when I say that it's not mine intent to break your heart. If it's within my power to do so, I will always return to you."

[ assorted dialogue prompts ]

Typically people only said that after they caught her fighting off voidsent. They usually saw her covered in dirt and blood, scythe dripping with ichor.

However, this man only witnessed her fall into the shallow depths of Gridania's bogs. She dragged herself up and out and was in the middle of wringing out her hair.

I was searching for Mazlaya Greens.

[ assorted dialogue prompts ]

Una looked down upon the young dragon-like girl. She had been watching this whole time. She was paying attention.

It was truly baffling that people assumed she was ignoring them.

I am listening.