Chapter Text
El'laura sighed as she entered the prepared guest room in Cloud Nine, just a few steps behind Estinien. A fire had been started prior to entry, and she was thankful for it; the snow never quite agreed with her despite her best efforts of acclimation, even from childhood.
She turned to glance about the room; the aforementioned fireplace, a dresser, writing desk, and mannequin to place armor upon. Like all of the homes in Ishgard, dark wood and insulating stone were the primary decorations, along with furs and tapestries and paintings of the expansive lands between Coerthas and Dravania. In this room, there was an older painting of the Tailfeather in the Dravanian Forelands.
She set her rapier upon the provided rack, the dragoon placing his lance against the wall instead due to the massive stature. The mage then unbuttoned the crimson overcoat and removed it to place on a hook. As she turned to make conversation, his eyes were narrowed at her.
“It seems our spar ended in bloodshed,” he inclined his head toward her shoulder. Wisps of his white strands clung to his perspired forehead and neck were they not secured by his hair tie. Elly removed her silver-framed glasses as if that would help her view the wound– it didn't.
A rather deep laceration that had blossomed beneath her blouse reminded her-- albeit now painfully-- of the shot he struck her with. Her eyes moved to the hung armor, seeing the cut made into the back of it by his lance. She hadn't even realized how much it hurt until reminiscing over being knocked by the blade, having taken the blow to avoid a more grievous injury to her face.
The Elezen had removed his gauntlets and cuirass with a muffled clank which left him in a simple tunic and the remainder of his lower armor. The Viera woman hesitated, “I.. guess so, huh? Good shot.”
“Let's have a look at it,” he began to approach the Warrior of Light. She reflexively took a step backward.
“You may need stitches,” he insisted.
“I'll be fine, really.”
He crossed his arms. “Do you know how many of our comrades would never let me hear the end of it if I didn't look after you? Sit,” his hand grasped a wooden chair within reach and set it beside her.
“As if you're the epitome of.. not being injured,” El'laura struggled to come up with something clever, sitting in the chair with a grimace. Estinien towered over her, fingertips ripping the already ruined blouse to view the laceration.
“I am not the Warrior of Light,” he reminded her. “That beside, you're worse at caring for yourself than I ever was.”
The woman's long, pale ears flinched slightly, flushing with ire as she opened her mouth to protest, but closed it in relent with a pout. The knight continued to look upon the wound, noticing she had many other scars over the expanse of her back; he pulled himself away from curiosity to murmur, “It needs to be cleansed and stitched. I could send for a med–”
“You can clean it and bandage it, couldn't you?” Elly had interrupted, impatient at the fuss that he was making. He walked away, returning moments later with a bowl of water, a small chirurgeon kit, and a vial of analgesic to set upon the writing desk. After all, he may have been gruff in demeanor, but he wasn't a monster. He had also taken a second chair to sit behind her rather than trying to work at the disadvantage of height.
Crossing her arms over the back of the chair that she had taken the liberty of turning around, her head rested upon them while Estinien was given a full view of his working space. His fingers brushed a few of the blush blonde locks from her neck, barely distinguishable between that and her pale skin. With a warm, damp cloth he began to clean the wound he'd unintentionally given her in their duel.
Elly's eyes fluttered shut, “Thank you– and please, no hard feelings, alright? I don't need you feeling guilty about a fight we both enjoyed.”
“I enjoyed myself immensely, as I always do during our combat engagements,” his mouth pulled into something resembling a smirk. “But Alisaie has the right of it– you do need to take better care of yourself judging by the scars along your back.” After applying the medicine, his hands worked to close the slash.
The Viera woman tensed, “I– those were mostly before I became the Warrior of Light, I'll have you know.” A nervous laugh and a few twitches of her ears to relax herself again, and hopefully him. Estinien had never been one to mince words, and he wasn't about to now.
“I see. Childhood, then?”
“Some of them,” she shrugged the shoulder he wasn't working with. “Traveling to Thanalan while I was small wasn't an easy feat. Learning to fight wasn't always as swift, and I couldn't always afford a chirurgeon."
The dragoon finished by applying the bandage to the fencing mage, standing afterward and offering her his hand. She took it as he inquired, “No parents?”
“Lost my mother when I was too young to remember, and I never found out how. My father absconded with me after the Garleans took over Dalmasca, and paid a few of the more lax Imperial guards to smuggle me through Gyr Abania.”
El'laura purses her lips, “I assume that's what happened, anyhow. I was mostly hiding in shipping containers and was found by Ala Mhigan sentry and Flame guards after passing out from exhaustion and hunger. I was sent to Thanalan, and the rest is history, mostly.”
“So you're from Dalmasca?”
“Technically the forests in the foothills of the Skatay Mountains is where the Veena Tribe– my tribe--reside and guard the forests,” she approached the Map of Hydaelyn, her well-manicured fingers gesture to a spot of clouds with no names or drawings. “Between Othard and Dalmasca.”
“I've admittedly never been,” Estinien states flatly, expression carefully neutral as he looks to the map, then to her scarred back once more. Feeling as though he needed to look away at something, he began to remove his boots.
“You wouldn't have. The Veena that occupy those woods are fiercely protective of outsiders, save for the few refugees from the Garlean takeover. No one enters, no one leaves, usually those who do are banished from returning.” El'laura's hand dropped from the map to her side, as if it emulated the difficult topic.
She forced a smile as if to disarm her companion, “I don't really remember anyone I would have known from there, I was nine when I was taken by my father. Sometimes I have dreams about a few silhouettes I should remember. I retained memory of my birth date and name, but it's tradition for those who leave the forests to rename ourselves.” Her weighted sigh brought a look of discontent from the man.
“They would be proud,” he stated with certainty, tossing the sabatons to the remainder of his armor, save for the charcoal-colored leather britches.
“Perhaps,” she shrugged. “It still gives me pause to think about how different my life was before being gifted with the Echo.”
“Do you wish it to have been otherwise?” His question was thick with curiosity.
“I don't know,” her voice cracked as she glanced over her shoulder, “Do you remember the night you came to my room in Sharlayan?”
“Aye,” he nodded. “The twins were arguing over snacks and I departed before they noticed.”
“Estinien, you came to my room in the middle of the night, dressed like a perfect gift, and was relieved to know I was alone,” the Warrior of Light sassed, shooting him a look. “And then you jumped out of my balcony after wanting my affirmation that this,” she waved her arms around, “was exhausting, you wicked man.” Her voice held an edge of something between annoyance and longing.
The Elezen shrugged nonchalantly.
“To answer your question though, it is exhausting. So very much,” her voice wavered with her confession as she inhaled shakily. “I feel like I will never be able to catch my breath, or sometimes I wonder if I could have done better or made better decisions. Saved more– and I know I can't afford to think like that.”
The dragoon watched her speak, gray eyes focused on her face, but more importantly how rapidly her inspirations were.
“Every time I think of the Scions, my heart swells with such joy, but.. I nearly lost all of you. Hydaelyn trusted me, and.. a-and.. sometimes I just couldn't bear the thought of losing all of you again. Like I'm not.. not–” her hand pressed to her chest.
He ushered her quickly to sit upon the bed, watching the Warrior of Light, savior of Etheirys-- and more importantly his friend– struck with the start of panic.
“You are safe,” Estinien began. Soothing and speaking more gently was not his strong suit, but it hadn't been the first time he had seen the build-up of never-was and should-have-been's. A change of subject was needed.
“Do you know of snowblindness?”
“The condition?” El'laura managed between focused, steady breaths, eyes closed tight while he affirmed with a low, “Mm-hm, but also the turn of phrase for one who is so deeply affected or overwhelmed by intensity that it impairs them to think clearly or see things realistically.” He felt as though his attempt at distraction fell short.
Estinien seated himself beside her as his hand began rubbing over her bare back, careful of the bandage he'd just placed. “The sun reflecting upon the snow, stinging and burning the eyes something terrible. Aymeric and I both suffered from it when we first enlisted with the Temple Knights.” He licked his lips, struggling more than he showed to find words, “But you. You're the Warrior of Light, and when you've had too many moments of peace uninterrupted, you reflect all of that good you've done back into your own eyes– staring too long, trying too hard to find the dark spots, the footfalls of those who may cause harm to you and yours.”
His hand paused the caress of her back and pushed her soft hair away from the injury. While focused on her profile, he gauged to see if further intervention was needed. To his surprise, her breathing was collected, eyes remaining hidden behind a thick skirt of black-tinted lashes and darkened lids.
After several minutes of silence and anticipatory breaths, her eyes opened and watched her own lap for a touch too long before turning to meet his gaze. His lips parted as he breathed as though as he'd just remembered her right eye yielded the color of new grass in early spring, the left an earthy orange resembling amber, or leaves in late autumn. Wearing her glasses constantly seemed to render him forgetful of their peculiarity.
El'laura's brow raised quizzically, watching him peer into her, but it was all bravado and defense while she contemplated asking him every thought racing through his head. Instead she cleared her throat.
“Thank you, Estinien.”
“You needn't thank me,” he shook the thoughts from his head, or would have if he had anything to think of outside of her staring into him, and the touch of her skin under his palm. “You have done it for all of us at one time or another.”
“Yes, and I'm still grateful,” she mused, sitting upright while her blouse managed to stay on despite the tearing earlier.
“If I were you, I'd take the opportunity to be more indulgent. By the Twelve, you have to know you've earned it,” The man teased, trying to lighten the mood.
El'laura stood and Estinien mirrored her in curiosity. Despite towering over her by several inches– negating her prominent ears– he felt suddenly like he was going to be admonished for the advice. Rather than that, her gaze softened while watching his face, a small smile playing upon her lips. He relaxed slightly, “I am not the best with words, you know that.”
“You're not, but if you'd indulge me for a moment?”
“Aye, what is it?”
“A hug.” His eyebrows raised slightly at the request, but approached her as she wrapped her arms around him, cheek pressing to the center of his chest. He inhaled slowly, a hand sliding upon the woman's lower back while the other cradled her head against him protectively.
“Estinien Varlineau, you also deserve nice things. Good things. Happy things. You deserve to indulge after a life of vitriol and vengeance in lieu of joy and love and peace.”
“You do remember that I acted of my own accord,” he playfully chided her, finding it easier to speak his feelings this way, at least for now.
“Yes, and you were still conscripted into beliefs and lies– that of which stole your family from you as a child. You have saved many, many lives. My own included,” her resolve was firm, holding him tighter while biting her lip.
“My thanks for the reminder,” he smiled in relent, realizing she couldn't see his face while holding her to him. “I'll tell myself that over my next drink in Radz-at-Han.” His arms moved to release her and step back as she kept her lower lip entrapped, fearful of what may come out of her mouth next.
After a beat, she slowly gazed upward, brows tilted with worry. The added space between them fired her nerves, even more so than before. She closed her eyes for composure, then opened them to admire his chiseled face.
“Estinien?”
“El'laura.”
“If this is too much indulgence..” she trailed off, but the knight-turned-mercenary of her affection insisted she continue, motioning for her to do so.
“I don't even know how to say this," the Warrior of Light said to everyone and no one, regarding her lack of action with disbelief.
“Might it be more simple to demonstrate,” he offered.
“I– possibly, yes.”
She closed the space between them again and looked into his eyes; the color of storms and weather to bring bodies together for warmth; the color of some pietersite stones depending what colors he donned. El'laura held a special comfort in him that she trusted implicitly.
With her silence now he was nervous, afraid of having her open up too much and too soon. Or perhaps she really was angry about the wound he gave her. It was truly unlike the brazen knight to worry over such trivial niceties, however the past few weeks of treasure hunts, saving Azdaja, and far too many celebrations in Radz-at-Han left him wondering if he had somehow further harmed her than she had let on.
El'laura finally released her shoulders and stood onto the balls of her feet to meet as much of his height as she could. Her eyes, heavy-lidded, retained contact as she murmured, “If this is too much indulgence..” she trailed off, eyes finally closing in wait.
With an instinct he hadn't realized was within him after years of focused survival, Estinien met her reach by dipping low his head enough to press his nose to the side of hers, fingertips cupping her chin. His fringe of white lashes among his dark eyes closed as she caught his lips with hers; the barest of brushes as if testing a surface that would burn her.
To her relief, she wasn't left wanting as a delayed motion against her mouth reciprocated with a hint of uncertainty. Upon her next caress, she took more of his lip in a movement that was achingly chaste and yet overwhelmingly satisfying to the man, who returned the gesture, sooner this time, to catch up with her tempo.
Neither had even realized the time between meeting and well, now, how much they had longed for one-another like this. Perhaps it was the most recent trauma in Ultima Thule in which Estinien sacrificed himself, evaporating into Dynamis so that she could stop the Final Days. Perhaps it was after he was brought back by the good reminders of Ascians only for her to send all of the Scions away, nearly be left behind at the edge of the universe– not to mention at the brink of death– never to be seen again.
The Warrior of Light's hands held his face between them like he were made of porcelain, in which his arms dropped to grasp her beneath her rear to lift her up nearly without exertion. Unknown to her, he moved her backwards onto the dresser that stood waist-high to him, setting her upon it carefully whilst trying to keep up with her deliberate and invasive osculation. At some time between standing on her toes and being placed on her makeshift pedestal, her tongue had joined into her incursion of the former Azure Dragoon's mouth, although he yielded to her, and while his mien was typically brusque in nature, his reciprocated entanglement was far more winsome than any words he could have uttered.
El'laura finally pulled away enough to speak, her voice breathy with lust and self-reflected frustration as she murmured, “I admit that I didn't think you.. saw me– nor desired me, so if I seem dismayed..”
He continued to peck at her lips while she spoke, making it harder to form anything eloquent enough to express the weight of her yearning, she merely caved into ravishing his mouth once again.
“Nothing could be further from the truth,” his voice was low and raspy, struggling to collect himself; having been kissed with such zeal left him fumbling for words more than usual.
“Tell me, how does one such as myself go about courting the Warrior of Light?” He punctuated his query with yet another chaste kiss, only to mournfully pull himself from her, eyes opening and awaiting her reply in earnest.
“Like this,” her response held a hint of questioning. “I'd argue that I am just like everyone else, but I hardly think you'd accept that answer.”
“I wouldn't,” they both chuckled at his truth. “You are humble to a fault. You do know that, yes?”
She nodded, “So I've been told.”
“And yet, you persist to astonish those around you. How is it that you fail to see the heft of your prestige?” His hands found themselves at her waist, toying with the decimated linen blouse while his forehead pressed to hers, as if it would help her answer faster.
After all, he had plans.
El'laura inhaled sharply as his hands played with the cloth at her sides, not due to the promise of losing her blouse in a few moments, but the war he was inciting– with the tickling of her waist– a secret she had kept from many around her. Her hands slid to the laces of his tunic, pulling the ties while she replied.
“Because none of that– Ser Estinien Wyrmblood,” she enunciated cheekily, forcing a grin out of him. “Matters to me. I wasn't always this beacon of hope, you know. Worth is measured in moments and actions, and I tend to act, sometimes without thinking. I've never meant to try to impress anyone,” she winks.
“A sound reason,” he murmured while she unlaced his tunic. His hands slid upward, resting upon the buttons while he managed to not sound as eager as he felt, “If I may?”
The leporine-eared woman nodded with enthusiasm, then answered with a quick ‘Yes’ in affirmation. The Elezen needed no other clarification while he nimbly began to unbutton the remains of what had been El'laura's favorite blouse. Her pale chest exposed, she removed the scrap fabric from her arms to free herself from its confines.
The afternoon sun had slowly brightened the room, but with the focus of light upon her pale breasts and nipples that were the same shade, she practically illuminated it. Accustomed to having the sun reflecting off of his locks like snow, her skin was different; warmer, inviting, and while she did make the room brighter– both literally and figuratively– there was something poignant about the Warrior of Light awaiting him like this.
Estinien eyed her torso, awestruck while he managed to pull off his own tunic and let it drop to the floor. Burying his face into her neck and shoulder, he resolved that there was absolutely nothing short of another disaster that would have him leave her at this moment. His hands found her sides again, noticing her flesh goosebump beneath his touch. Elly's eyes closed, the sun bringing tears she did not want. A sigh left her when his hand cupped the side of her breast, thumb playing over the nipple until it hardened from manipulation. She quivered with the warmth of his touch and it was in her reaction that urged him to place his mouth over the bounding pulse in her neck, remaining still to feel it play against his lips, breathing in the woman like he'd been devoid of air.
With reluctance, she guided him away from her as he watched her stand. Her hands moved to unbutton the thin bloomers at her waist. Estinien knelt before her, removing one of her short boots with ease before setting it aside, then moved to the other one. Her eyes were still stinging from the sun, hoping that he wouldn't notice, or if he did, that he wouldn't point it out. With both boots removed, she remained in her bloomers and a pair of red stockings. Elly placed her hands over her abdomen, covering the undone button as he dared peer at her again.
The dragoon never saw her in a timid stance, but here she was. Perhaps it was the chill in the air? His hands smoothed up her thighs to rest upon her sides, and couldn't help but remark, “Despite this heat, your legs are freezing.” It brought a smirk from her as she glanced down at him, making eye contact while grasping his hands and pulling them inward to the unbuttoned waist. Hers rested atop his before the magic-wielding swordswoman nodded to him. With that, he began to slip them gingerly down.
After the thin cloth dropped to the floor, he helped her step from them, making a brief mental note to find her more protective armor. The Elezen's ears were red with heat and the warmth of the sun pouring in upon their tryst. His hands moved to the gentle swell of her ass, resting there as they warmed the frigid flesh. He pressed his lips to a scar a few inches from her navel, startling her. She found herself playing with the stark white strands of his hair while she untied them, fingers running through his locks with the utmost adoration.
Keeping her balance when all she wanted to do was melt under his touch was a challenge, but he stood and used his hands on her buttocks to draw them together. The bare skin of her lower abdomen toward her hip unmistakably felt his hard cock straining against the leather trousers. The Viera woman couldn't help but grin and moved herself in for another kiss, which had been Estinien's intent with standing.
Feverishly their lips met again, where the man had once been apprehensive was a newfound boldness as his tongue parted her awaiting mouth. Her brows raised in mild amazement, reflexively closing her eyes while matching his glorious energy. Her genitals had been aching with want, and before she could retain a moan, it left the depths of her chest and was extinguished by their kissing. A sound resembling a groan and a sigh made by him caused a slow withdrawal.
“Is something the matter,” El'laura's words came rough through her like sandpaper had scraped her voice.
“No. Not at all,” he began. She lofted a single brow.
“You do want to–” he hung on the phrase he was going to use a millisecond too long as she blurted out, “Have sex? Very much so.” Her enthusiasm brought an amused smile to Estinien's face, his hand cupping her cheek for a brief kiss to her lips “Aye.”
Her hand had made a move to his leather pants, but before she could act, he knelt back down to steer her by her hips to the wall beside her, cornering her against it. He grasped one of her legs to place on his shoulder which left her nether region fully exposed to him. The dragoon pressed his warm lips to the inner thigh just beyond where her taut stockings ended, the red satin squeezing the flesh to stay up. His free hand tucked his snowy locks behind his pointed ear. With him positioned in such a manner, the risk of her losing her balance mid-cunnilingus was improbable, which was currently on her mind as he used the leverage of his shoulder to lift her thigh further upward and outward.
Estinien's eyes lifted to watch her face as his tongue quickly passed over the folds of her labia, finding her already wet with eagerness. ‘Good,’ he thought as his eyes closed. She tilted her head back, a free hand resting in his hair as he moved inward again, tongue exploring her for what seemed to her like forever; lips, tongue, jaw all moving with purpose– and yet intentionally avoiding her clitoris.
The Viera woman's breathing was composed until his movements began to focus on the sensitive nub he'd been avoiding in tease. At first his tongue flicked over her softly as to not overwhelm her, but shortly thereafter pulled the flesh gently with suction. Moments later he released, but never removed his mouth from her.
El'laura whimpered with the first release, but then he began to draw her in again, tongue working over the smooth crux as her hips began moving with him in need. Her hand in his hair was lax, but her free hand was restless trying to find a place to be that wasn't against the wall, for there was nothing to hold onto. Estinien offered his own hand to her, opposite her propped leg– which he then moved higher in order to lace their fingers and set them on her abdomen.
For one reason or another, the included touch of his hand holding hers still and the feel of him exhaling against her vulva while he relished every second pivoted her attention to solely enjoying herself. The clouds had rolled in, darkening the room and blinding her with adjustment in the dimness. Instead, she let her eyes close, inhaling a moan as Einstein continued his feat of bringing the Warrior of Light to climax. Her hips never stopped pressing into his methodic movements, remaining stalwart even when she was ever-closer to peaking. Hearing her audible affirmations– with each thrust, each moan, each pant– only encouraged his consuming of her until she had come.
Her orgasm broke over her like a euphoric wave, hips pressed to him and stilled while he waited for her cries of pleasure to slow. He released the swollen organ and surrounding lips delicately, giving her hand a small squeeze before letting her go. El'laura's vision recovered from a small haze, legs shaking with exhaustion when the dragoon helped place the raised limb back beside its twin. She wasn't regaining complete equilibrium, but her breaths evened out as her eyes dropped with the sound of her partner beginning to stand before her.
Estinien had undone the top of his leather trousers, the waistline sitting just below his muscular buttocks. One hand placed upon her hip as the other held his stiff phallus, using gentle and teasing strokes around the head nearly peeking out of its foreskin. Elly watched him perform for her, mesmerized. Her hands were delicate, yet still trembling with recovery, when she grasped the tip of his cock, a soft groan erupting from him, making her lips part before demanding, “Bed. I want you inside of me.”
He didn't argue, he pressed himself against her and kissed the side of her mouth, as quick and unflappable as a shrug to tease his lover before he walked away. Elly appeared almost offended at the cavalier behavior, staring at him across from her but a few feet, his hands smoothing down the remainder of clothes from his legs and tossing the pants in the pile of armor. The Elezen man peered at her expectantly.
“Are you coming?”
“I've already done that,” she grinned, strolling over to him. He reclined upon his elbows, the golden hour sun washing over the room again and focused on the far wall. Estinien's eyes followed her every move while she joined him, sitting upon the edge of the bed. She admired his form without hindrance of clothes or bashfulness. Despite a life fighting wars that he was both a victim and patron of, any sign of flaw or marring was merely character for the canvas of his skin.
Instinctively, the Warrior of Light placed her hand upon the center of his chest, longing to feel his heartbeat within that mortal shell of internal turmoil, relentless teasing, and witted quips.
His eyes closed and he relaxed from his elbows onto his back before placing his hand over hers, heart pounding against her palm like a caged dove.“Is everything alright?”
“Everything is alright,” a grin tugged at her lips.
“Good,” he groaned, pulling her hand gently from him and motioning for her to close the space between them again.
Still reclaiming a semblance of decorum from her own recent climax, she moved to lay on her side and pressed to him.
In a swift maneuver of his body, he half-rolled to hover over her. She'd seen the former Azure Dragoon do one-armed push-ups on numerous occasions, so the lithe, yet sinewy repositioning of him placed mirroring her was of little shock.
What she wasn't expecting, however, was the kiss he pressed into her lips; harsher and more fervently given to the point of having to open her mouth and let him in, or bruise. Estinien still tasted of her cyprine, which pulled a whimper from within the recesses of her chest as she reminisced the past hour or so with him. Her head spun with thoughts of how everything was going so well.
Yet so, so quickly.
The Elezen man rubbing the head of his cock upon– and somewhat into– her wet mons and intumesced folds brought her to playfully bite his lower lip, drawing another groan from him as he thrusted onto her clitoris, causing her to inhale sharply.
Having withdrawn from her and leaving the Viera yearning, he began to trail his mouth down the side of her neck. Occasionally, he paused to kiss where he had been hovering and continued down until he reached the center of her chest.
El'laura's face flushed while he began to flick his tongue under the crease of her breast, nipping the flesh ever-so-slightly. Continuing his path of kisses, he found her nipple and began to flick his tongue over the hardened flesh, blood rising to it and becoming as pink as her cheeks with time.
“Estinien,” she managed hoarsely.
“Mm,” he answered before releasing her flesh from his mouth, moving up to meet her face-to-face. He was grinning, something he had been doing around her more lately. Elly reciprocated the smile, hands moving to hold his jaw between them once again. The dragoon turned his head slightly to kiss where her palm and wrist met, steely eyes never leaving her.
The red mage adjusted herself beneath him, raising her knees on either side of his body until they peaked around the valley of her lower torso, stockings still in place; both of them had entirely forgotten about their removal. His hand moved downward toward his groin, holding his prick stiffly against her slick entrance before pressing himself within. Breaths they had each unknowingly been holding hostage were released nearly in unison as he pushed the remaining length until he was inside of her as far as he could enter. Hilted, he pecked her lips like a prelude before withdrawing himself and thrusting inside again, her manicured fingers moving to wrap around his muscled outer back.
His hips began to move more avidly, finding his rhythm with her as she met his movements with her own. Sweat began to dew his skin and pierce his brow while the pairing reveled in the ardor of bringing one-another closer toward gratification. However, she was now laying on her back and the sting of sweat was a phantom reminder of her injury, causing her to wince. A look of mild concern crossed his features and he paused, opening his mouth to inquire. In a panic, she quickly gestured to her shoulder to ease any forthcoming anxieties about his performance or her discomfort other than the cut.
Of course, how had he forgotten? Well, he had a few notions. Sheepish wasn't a usual affect for the dragoon, but neither was bedding a comrade in arms– at least since he was much younger and certainly before he was made the Azure Dragoon of Ishgard.
He graced her lips with a brief peck before rolling halfway to his side, using his arm propped beneath him as leverage while guiding her partway toward him to relieve the shoulder from pressure, though he was now going to see to it she was rebandaged after their coitus. Free from the injury pressure, El'laura propped her leg over his side, allowing him access to fuck her again. He wriggled his hips, adjusting himself once more at his partner's opening; both felt pressure against one-another as the anticipation for him to thrust inside her grew to border torturous. His skilled hand moved from her hip to taking a handful of her pale ass, both pushing himself into her wetness and pulling her onto his girth.
The air only grew thicker with the musk of sex as they continued their previous pursuit, although the new position allowed him to push deep within his partner, bringing small sounds every time he peaked inside of her well-lubricated walls. Estinien's focus on her enraptured expressions and really-- just how good she felt-- made him vehemently savage, though he also hadn't quite realized how close he was to his own orgasm. This reminded him of impending climax and a conversation they ought to have had before, alas.
The knight kissed her jaw as he murmured hastily, “Where should I release?” ‘Good question,’ she thought, not having considered it; she mostly had been in relations with persons who possessed genitals like her own– and unbeknownst to her, as had he himself on the other side of that coin.
“Here,” her fingertips brushed the hollow between her groin and upper thigh where the joint met. The Elezen nodded, giving a few last thrusts before withdrawing entirely from her, having planned to finish himself by his own hand. However, she licked her palm quickly, leaving an adequate amount of saliva upon it before taking his slick cock to the agreed upon space and pressing firmly over it.
While caught off-guard by the altruistic offer, he was not in a state to remark, thrusting himself between her hand and thigh to come. His hips moved with fervid need, one of his sinewy arms wrapped around her leg for leverage as he moaned with each exhale during his final thrusts, gaze heavy as he looked at her; the Warrior of Light bit her lip while watching him as her free hand had been pleasuring herself while he worked to get off. He shuddered with a last groan, his throbbing phallus ceased as he ejaculated against her thigh, the warm fluid settling over her tender skin.
While maneuvwring to be sitting on his knees, his penis started to become flaccid. Elly stopped her own pleasure having been more than satisfied from earlier. Releasing her lower lip from her teeth, her eyes squinted– having forgotten to put her glasses back on– and peered around for something to wipe up with. However, her search ended when he gently grasped her wrist, turning her palm skyward and began to clean her hand with a spare washcloth he had brought to care for her wound earlier.
For some reason– this more than anything else they had been partaking in– made her blush from her upper chest to her ears. Her form remained entirely still as Estinien continued to remove the remaining fluids from her thigh, realizing he had stained her stockings, which caused his brows to knit. He began to remove each of them in turn to add to his ever-growing pile to be laundered. Catching a glimpse of her transfixed stare, he noticed her flush.
“I'll see to it that you have your armor repaired and garments cleaned,” he cleared his throat, sighing with content while moving to lay upon his back beside her.
Her eyes blinked away whatever sentiment she had been carrying, “You do–”
“You needn't remind me that I owe you a new tunic for the one I destroyed.”
“It wouldn't have been destroyed if I had managed to get out of the way,” Elly teased.
“Don't start that,” he warned with a hint of playfulness before continuing. "I should give you an earful about the lack of armor you wear, particularly when you're in melee.”
“I need to be able to move around freely,” El'laura defended, lying beside him. “I'm accustomed to it.”
“All current favorable events aside,” he began, placing a hand upon her waist. “Not one of your comrades wants to see you on the edge of death ever again.”
“I'll get better armor, or I'll get hit less. Deal?”
“You're incorrigible,” he sighed with exasperation before pressing a kiss to the side of her head.
“I'm getting better, at least?” She offered her verbal white flag in half-inquiry.
“Perhaps,” Estinien chuckled, leaving her to stand at the end of the bed, pulling on a loose pair of trousers.
The fencing mage realized she hadn't really planned ahead in the way of spare clothing, moving quickly enough to tug on the stitches as she sat up. It wasn't painful, but it did remind her that she likely needed to change the bandage due to the romp they'd just had.
“I should see a medic about this being changed,” she half-smiled. “I also neglected to bring anything else to wear. I have an apartment in Empyrium, but I can't exactly leave here like this.”
“You live here? In Ishgard?” Estinien blinked, otherwise seemingly unable to find anything to add to his queries.
“I do, is that a problem?”
The dragoon laughed, running his hand over his face. His fingers stroked his chin, “Well for one, you dislike the cold.”
“I have a fireplace in my apartment,” she crossed her arms in a way that framed her chest.
“Moreso, I wouldn't have kept a room here when we could have gone back to your apartment.” He shrugged.
“Oh, do you think I invite just anyone over?” El'laura's voice held a tone of amused incredulousness.
“You don't like company?”
“I would love company, but I haven't had the opportunity to bring anyone over. It's usually a mess from my various projects.” Her arms fell to her lap, now embarrassingly aware of her nudity. As if he'd read her mind, he removed a tunic and a pair of trousers from a drawer to hand to her.
Were they too big? Yes. Would they suffice for a ten minute stroll to her place? Also yes.
El'laura began to dress, her mind bouncing between the duel to this afternoon's unexpected dalliance. There was uncertainty of where this could lead the two of them, but the thoughts of it being just this once didn't exactly hurt, either. The thought of seeing him again pulled a grin from the depths of her concerns, her head turning to watch Estinien finish dressing.
The dragoon placed on his pendant; a simple silver-toned one with engraving of Halone's triple spear, flicking his hair over the chain afterward. He had put on one of his favorite tunics for when he wasn't battle-ready, noticing Elly watching him from the mirror.
“I'm to meet Alphinaud and Alisaie for supper with Aymeric this evening. If they were to know of you being a local, I am certain they would be ecstatic to see you.”
“Oh, I'm not dressed to attend such an event,” she looks over herself.
“I thought you were going home to dress?”
“I was, yes,” the Warrior of Light sighed. She sheepishly inquired, “Would you accompany me to my apartment?”
Estinien folded his arms, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “Aye.”