Thedor 16, 229: To The Ends Of The Earth

To The Ends of The Earth
Summary: Queen Laetitia visits the Kincaid Manor to see Duke Aidan on invitation. They quickly digress into talks of old and of running away.
OOC Date: 18/Jan/2014
Related: The Song Is Ended But The Melody Lingers On, The Dawn Of A New Day
Aidan Laetitia 
Kincaid Manor - Stormvale City
The Kincaid Manor
Thedor 16, 229

Aidan hadn't been able to get time with the Queen in a manner that he saw as sufficiently one-on-one. Of course there were always going to be guards, ladies in waiting, members of her household that would follow her to every occasion and outing, however, the last few meetings he had seen the Queen in presence of other nobles. It took time to prepare however, for both sides. For the Queen to make arrangements to travel into the city and not be followed by a large entourage of other doting nobles, for the Manor in Stormvale to be decently prepared and members of the family asked to leave well before. Not only that, but his pride had been hurt by the last of their meeting, where she unleashed Kincaid demands all over the Council table and sufficiently pulled a political knock out on him. However, this was time for him and his Queen. No one else would interfer. Only the servants and knightly guards would be present for discussions and if at that, most would be outside of the sitting room or manor proper.

The Manor itself wasn't necessarily on a well respected street - boarding house near by and all, but it was well lit and the Kincaid Manor was fenced to keep out any strays. Inside the gates, the Manor was well kept and met the standards to hold a Ducal family. Inside, the interior was pleasant, showing off the wealth of Kincaid's. The sitting room was where the Queen was to be received and the Duke would be at the doors of the Manor to welcome her inside. All the proper arrangements made to see to her comfort were offered and made. Those local baked goods from Ray's shop had been purchased and set amongst other exotic dishes, with Chocola and wines presented for the Queen's choice.

The Duke himself was wearing a rather richly designed black tunic with trim of embroidered silver, clasped together with decorative pieces and shoulder adornments, along with a celtic like designed belt. In any case, he was standing tall and looked as if he were to be presented at Court, rather than in his own home. Only the best for the Queen.'

It indeed did take some time for the Queen prepare and she will have prepared most richly, the Queen wearing a gown of deep, deep purple, her favorite color, hair partially down, cascading in curls down her back, while a few select pieces are braided up and wound about in a lovely manner at the crown of her head, a circlet upon her brow. Of course, a heavy fur cloak is worn, and as her carriage pulls up the Queen is bracing herself for this meeting, quite pleased, a flutter in her chest as it always had been upon gaining these moments with the Duke. So strange that such things would linger even after all this time.

Handmaidens do indeed travel with her, the ladies out first from the carriage, all moving to help the Queen out, lifting her skirts, hands here, there, assisting her so that she may not slip upon slick icy cobblestones. As she exits she will take a bracing breath of air, one hand upon her abdomen, a laugh rising from her most airily, "Oh, I'm not sure why I am in such a state. Perhaps the wine we imbibed on the way here." Ignoring the neighborhood, she's not one to judge, she will nod to a guard who takes her arm as they escort her to the Manor.

A smile is unable to stop itself from touching her lips most broadly and she will watch as the door looms closer, the Queens green eyes bright. It has been quite some time since she was able to enjoy the company of Aidan without the company of other nobles. Far too long. Would they still have things to talk about, laughter to share? Or have they both grown too old to enjoy those moments any longer, distance and time having stolen the joy from their pasts. And then a knock, the Queen insisting on doing it herself, using a knock that she used to use a child with Aldren back when they played freely and sent secret messages to one another via knocks just like this.

The knock would be the message 'Open up you tardy bum!', so childish.

Aidan had been absolutely stern on every detail in the House, making the servants all a twitter since none wished to be scorned or earn the Duke's ire in such times that he needed them all to be on their best behaviours. It was his only outlet to quell his own jubilations of not having to compete for the good woman's attention. How often had he simply wished for a moment's peace, to banish out the rest of the nobles so he could steal the Queen away. The only ones who would have known her better than he was her own family and of course her husband, but, he's sure he was the only one privy to those childhood times when nothing mattered but the next knock that had to be decoded. He waited anxiously at the door at news of the carriage arriving, doing last minute sweeps of his fingers through his hair, over his tunic and the arrangements of his clothing. A firm nod from the doorman eased the Duke just a little as he waited.

The knock, surprises him, in a good way. And like the Queen who insists it was she who knocked, he insists on being the one open, only after knocking back - something a kin to just cool your heels and wait a minute. The minute it takes for the doors to swing on their hinges to welcome the Queen. "Your Majesty," he says in a tone that while polite, is one she knows, quirked with a playful grin from days long gone, when the responsibilities were less and matters of their adult lives were long far off thoughts, "Please, be welcomed in my House. I thank you for coming and attending." He's still doing what is expected however, offering his hand to her to help escort her inside, though he will opt for a moment to kiss her knuckles if she so lets him.

Caught in a moment of tucking a windswept blonde lock back over her ear the Queen suddenly finds herself in front of Aidan, her smile widening as she's caught, chest swelling beneath her cloak as she retains proper decorum in such public climes - ordinarily she would simply sweep into him and wrap her arms about his neck for a tight hug. But no, instead she suffices her urges with a simple extension of cool hand into his, fingers immediately warming upon his touch as she gazes upon him, "Duke, you know that I would never refuse to join you in your lovely home. I just wish I had done so much sooner." Her tone carries all the warmth that a hug would have, his knock having surprised her back, she hadn't expected him to answer, let alone answer the door himself. Well, she may have hoped he would have, and indeed he did.

Lips dance to almost mimic his playful grin with one of her own, but the longer they stand as they are the stranger it will be to guards and servants as the two relieve moments from long ago within the moment. As her hand rises up she will brace for the kiss, chest swelling up even more a moment before she expunges the air from her lungs with a truly genuine laugh, so delighted is it as she allows him then to guide her in, handmaidens swarming in, three in all, her guards stepping in, two staying outside, while the others sort to where they'll be needed during the Queens visit.

"Oh this is a lovely home, Aid— Duke Kincaid, very lovely indeed." Keeping her hand within his her thumb will tuck ever so gently over top his fingers as her gaze sweeps around, the warmth of everything quite reminiscent of her own home as a child.

In days gone past, he would've received her happily in his arms as two young members of familiar households, though under the scrutiny of his father's or mother's eye and likewise, her guardian's gaze. Even so, such things were seen as ways of youth and such, here too now the expectations they've lived with for so many countless years has turned them into those they laughed about when young. For as much as he wished a hug, it would not do for either of them in the prying eyes of the public and when doors were still open as it seems. "No regrets my Queen, for your life has become as duty bound and busy as my own, and for that, we cannot fault the time that we are alotted for such visits," his own actions providing the same exuberation that a bear hug would have done, of course gentle but all the while affectionate as his cool lips touch the exposed and lifted knuckles of his Queen.

After such displays are made, he is eager to have her away from even the guard's attention and the handmaidens, although some of those will have to come, yet, the guards can stay without. While he is no longer the young knight who would resort to craftiness and silliness to impress her - and usually end up in a heap from some clumsy attempt, he still has some aspects of his youthful zeal, as the twinkle in his eye and the curve of his lips reminds her, while his fingers secure her hand in his own. "It is a home away from home," he admits of the Stormvale Manor, "It hadn't seen some proper living for the years from which I was absent." He guides her into the sitting room, a quaint space with a fireplace and sofas, chairs, and the appropriate line of books on shelves. The books a main stay in Lakeshire Hold.

He will help her settle where she pleases, taking her overcoat and whatever else she wishes to come out of personally, before seeing them to the handmaidens and servants willing to properly address the care of her heavier garments. After such, servants will offer food and drinks as the guests please. All this takes a matter of propriety first, before they can simply be… Laetitia and Aidan and not the titles they've come to acquire over the years.

Green gaze will follow Aidans face, keen to learn the new lines that have imprinted upon him over time, to learn what had touched upon him so thoroughly, to learn his stories, it all, through those lines, crags and other marks that he may have collected over the years. Her hand kept in his she follows formalities, "I feel transported back to warmer times, Aidan-" Again! "Duke Kincaid, I'm sorry. Much simpler times I recall." Oh. And into the sitting room they'll go, the fireplace most appreciated out of everything in the room, though the books, oh, that sends a wave of warmth over her and so many memories of times reading lazily to each other. So many memories.

Almost overwhelmed she welcomes the distraction of taking off her cloak, then coats, gloves, scarves, until she's left in that royal gown of purple, nice, thick, woolen, attributes neatly shown off, the woman a fan of cleavage baring dresses, not quite the fashion in court but something she's always been proud of for one reason or another. Call it vanity, even as she ages she wishes to look and feel good about herself, her own lines etching along her features, a reminder that she is no longer young.

But here …here she feels young again. A maiden will stay in, the others moving to join the guards in discuss elsewhere, the Queen settling into her seat, waiting for everything that needs to be settled, settled.

And then finally once is all said and done a deep breath of air is taken in and Laetitia exhales it out ….titles slipping away once doors are closed, servants that are needed here, the Queen lighting up, "Oh, Aidan. How've I've missed just .." Well, she's lacking a bit for words, it's been so long, "Well. Everything. How have you been? I feel like it's been ages but look at you, handsome as ever. Everything is well, I hope? Please, speak freely, come…" Gesturing near to her, "Come join me. Your home /is/ lovely, it's like travelling back to Lakeshire." There's a note of longing in her voice, green eyes full of raw emotion as she holds a hand out to him, bidding him sit nearer.

"I'm not one to stick with formalities, my Queen, if you wish to call me simply by my name, that'd be a greater honour than the title to which I bear," he notes as there are most certainly lines upon his face that hadn't been there before, worn to time like all others who grew up around them, touched by great happiness and tragic sorrows. Age was upon him as it was his Queen, with such striking loss of youth in the shade of his hair, from a deep chestnut to the dusty brown that holds greys at the temples. "Simple… and tangible… They do say after all, youth is wasted on the young," a remark of the old reminscing about their youth, precious it was to those who didn't realize just how much.

"You look radiant as always, my Queen," he declares once she is removed of all the excess attire, handing the pieces straight to those who will ensure not a one earns a crease that they didn't come in with. That said, as the whirl wind of coming and goings, the servants trying to make sure that everything is proper, he too takes a seat, as near as he can to her without sitting on her - in fact, right next to her, a bold statement that may crimp the maid's eyebrow high. Such dangers are long gone however, the day of her betrothal to the King saw to that, much to his own heartache for it. His own quick betrothal a manner of his father knowing he needed a distraction. Alas, things were the way they were and would not change now, not when they're feeling age wear upon them and their energies to stay one step head of the game waning.

The moment the doors are closed, he too exhales a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding in. It was an expression of all the long moments of preparing what to say, day in and day out in Court life, and finally, he could just relax in company of a friend, without any agendas other than simply pleasant company. "I've missed you as well, despite seeing you in the realm of the castle, there you are a Queen to all and I shouldn't think to address you as anything less… but this, I truly miss… simply talking to someone without designs behind my every word." He shakes his head, with a wry look, "We should've run way when we were younger. I told you life would've been simpler as a farmer." Such discussions coming to those who had large burdens to carry upon their shoulders. He moves now to take her hand, if she will allow it, "It's been a struggle since Isys passed. I haven't had anyone to… be myself with, since." A sad admission that does not go without a faint hint of a frown, "Every day I feel less and less the boy I was and the man my father was." Then a smile, "Such is why I needed to see you again. Remind me of the great passions we had as children, the wonders we wanted to do with this world that was ours for the taking." A nod to the last, "You should come to visit Lakeshire. It is your home as well as my own."

Oh the maidens brow does indeed raise and crinkle inwards, though this is her Queen. And she knows the Queens temper, but also her sorrows this past year. To have someone she can just /be/ with and not worry about propriety, of titles, of curtseys and bows. And so with a glance away the Maiden will draw out of her own cloak her knitting she brought along and allow discreetness to reign for the time being. Even a faint blush - to see the Queen so unburdened isn't something that the maiden thought she would see for some time again, if ever.

And the Queen, oh how she studies his face as he settles down next to her, the woman utterly delighted he would cross boundaries nary another soul would, her hand easily lifted into his, "My thoughts have ever been on that idea, Aidan …of us, running away, I would tend to goats I've decided, and raise a garden, and you would work the fields as I made you utterly delicious meals of quail that you yourself would catch." Yes, such thoughts had crept up into her thoughs more and more this past years, of things that would have been that much simpler, "Worries nothing but coming rains and cold seasons." Oh, how her face falls as she gazes upon Aidan, her free hand coming up to touch his face, thumbtip tracing those lines he's gained since their childhoods together. And then she breaks just a little, a laughing sound erupting from her throat as she tears up a bit, unbiden completely, the Queen forcing a wide smile, "Would you believe I have felt much the same in this last year, though I've a Husband King in the castle? No one to speak to, so much …happening and having to …make decisions that should not have been mind to hold, alone with a man in the room -" Oh, is she crossing a line, perhaps, and Aidan isn't here to be her confessor in the moment. To burden him so after so long. No, blinking away the tears that wish to fall she will slide her hand beneath his after drawing it away from his cheek, firmly cupping his between both of hers, softly gripping his hand, the strength of that grip increasing every moment.

"I was so /saddened/ to hear of your lost, Aidan, I felt terrible I was not able to be there for you." A light sniff, her smile returning as she leans in towards him, "I should, shouldn't I. I-" Faltering a bit, it suddenly seems easier to hide behind courtly protocols, because actually now being able to just /be/ with someone, oh. So much is held there in her chest she wishes to get out, but it would be wildly inappropriate - such things are better left unsaid. Why stoke the fires when there is no ability to warm by them? "I do know what you mean, Aidan. It's …such a strange time. I'm so glad you arranged this. So, lets .." And up her hand lifts from beneath his to wave airly in the air to her side, hand resting on the back of the couch, "Enjoy each others company while we've the opportunity, and reminisce on the days gone by — you've wine, yes?" Eager to move on from topics of sadness to the fun they had when much younger.

The servants are all gone, save one, that he has kept in case of needing further refreshments or matters that were too tiresome for nobles to worry about and that their lavish life styles took for granted. Standing still as if a statue, the servant was the most trusted of the House, showing age of a butler who had long served the Duke in many fashions. He too seems to ignore the intimacy that starts to display between the two, allowing them a measure of space and time to be alone, as alone as too people not married to one another can be.

The man chuckles warmly at her reiteration of their youthful plans to tend a farm and forgoe the wars, the politics, the fires of duty that would soon consume them. He turns himself on the couch so that his one leg is somewhat lifted on the edge, pivoted and turned to not miss a beat with her here now in his presence. "You'd do well with the goats, that dog of yours is big enough to be one," he grins impishly, "You know, it's still possible for me to picture you, running through the barely fields—" and that is where he stops before he speaks of things he shouldn't, "That sounds delicious, do you even know how to cook?" He teases, as he would've back then. The roguish grin of his faulters when her hand comes to touch his face, expression taking on something of a warm appreciation for the gesture, an old yearning once again reminded of and the regret of life showing its ugly head. Her laugh is the only thing that breaks his abrupt and intense study of her face.

Her words, as she admits to being lonely, without that companionship of the King, makes Aidan quickly show concern on his face, "I wish you had come to me, but I suppose… I am guilty for the same, for I did not seek help in those I lo-" a stop, "-I long since considered family and friend." The recovery smooth, as always, as it has had to been for his entire life since their roads went in different directions. He looks down toward their hands, his fingers gripping hers with more pressure, a squeeze of comfort given, "I wish to know how you are and how things have been for you as well, Laetitia…" He breaks all formality and speaks her beautiful name, so forgotten to her title. He does not look up as he says it, keeping focus on her hands, "It's okay my friend. I would not have wanted you there. I was a mess and would have likely screamed at you for no reason other than to hope to ease my own regrets." He shakes his head with a long sigh, "She should not have tried to bear another child into this world. She wasn't strong enough."

When Lae falters, he notices, giving another endearing squeeze of his hand, "Tish…" a nickname he gave her in their youth, "Something is troubling you. You can tell me, I'm not the Duke of Lakeshire right now, I'm just… me." He encourages, if only to hope that she would get it off her chest and be happier for it. He does smirk softly, albeit sadly, for her gesture to wave off the troubles and speak of only memories, sweet memories that seemed another life far beyond their reach now. But he sees that she needs the happiness.

"Do you remember the time I tried to hang upside down from the saddle of that big old gelding to impress you and my brother? I seem to recall I ended up with grass between my teeth for weeks after that stunt." A good natured laugh for that memory, one of many of his antics to try and prove his mettle at the end of their time together, perhaps months before she was to be taken to Darfield for her wedding to Callem. The wine is already being poured, by the good old servant that dutifully pours two cups and hands them to Queen and Duke in turn.

As the conversation delves back to more serious realms the woman, Laetitia, will shake her head slowly, a small gesture, flaxen hair shaking about her shoulders as she drops her gaze down to his hand holding hers, lightly flexing her fingers so that she can caress that flesh of his minutely, "I am lost in a stormy sea, my port so far off in the distance that I can barely see anything so much as a glimmer of light to lead me back home." To hear her name on his lips makes her chest ache suddenly, and she tilts her head down a little more, chin dipping towards her chest, lips pressing together before she's looking up, "I've done my fair share of screaming and yelling for no reason, Aidan …I would have wished for nothing else but to be there to take the brunt of your words so you'd find a measure of peace. You know that."

Once again he makes her laugh, her nickname something she hadn't heard for /eons/, "Aidan, I haven't heard that name in what seems an age! Oh, how it makes me feel young again." Though sorrow clings to her she will, turning her gaze onto the wine being poured as she listens to the story he regales her with, "Not only in your teeth, I recall grass stains upon your face that you couldn't remove, oh, your parents were so wroth with you …" Oh, but wine - she quickly raises her free hand, not willing to let go of Aidans while she has it, keeping firm grip to it. A tilt of the wine to her lips, slow drink taken as she watches Aiden over the rim of it, glass soon lowered as she licks her bottom lip of the red dew,

"You know, I wish that we had another lifetime to live those lives we always talked about while laying in the fields, gazes upon the skies. I think of it so often, wished that, while I know you were joking …I had taken up those teases to just run. My life has not been unkind —" Well, it has, thoroughly, "Well, it has not ..been without joys, but .. " What is she getting at? Even she has to stop before she trespasses a line, "Do you remember ..when we'd drive the servants mad with that language we made up? Oh, I wish I could remember what it was, I know it was so funny, only to us." Urging him to recall the story as she tugs his hand inwards to her, her glass set down upon the end table so that she can capture his in both of hers, lifting it up towards her chest.

"Or when we'd steal the horses and ride to that grove where we pretended it was the end of the world and only we knew of it, our own hidden world with treasures and fantastical creatures." Her smile is soft, chest rising and falling as she tries not to get swept up in the emotion, everything ends up leading back to just the two of them, no matter how she tries to twist the stories away, "May I confess something …that you shant breath a word of to anyone, Aiden?"

Green eyes search his, still moist with tears, her smile trembling just a bit - why it feels so important to get things out, she hasn't a clue. But it may be the only opportunity she has. This one night they get to be in each others company, not a Duke and Queen, but Tish and Aidan.

"Then I must sail out to you and remind you that there can be some guiding light left to lead you home," he suddenly says without thinking over the words first, heavy with affection as he tries to encourage her not to sink to deep into the waters of despair. "For in my darkest days, when I thought I was alone in the world, without Isys… it was the smallest glimmer of light that kept me afloat," he murmurs, "Had it not been there, I'm sure the storm would've taken me down with it. We shall find that glimmer for you again, we can, in the fields we grew up around, the shorelines in which we ran, the waters we swam." He nods at the mention of screaming, "I would not have wished for the screaming to be at you. I have seen the damage that has caused, but I know you would've been there. That's all that matters, because really, I knew you were."

And yet, the turn of stories of humour have him shying away from the miseries of a life of regrets. To see her light up at the use of her nickname has him grin, "Perhaps because you frighten everyone with that look in your eye, so much that they fear to call you anything else but Queen." He taunts, "The one you would try to use on me, as if you would hope to squash me like a bug, even when I came back to pester you mercilessly. You know the look that I talk of-" he baits, as if to find that scowl in her features again, before he goes on laughing at the memory of his rueful experience trying to be an acrobatic success on a horse, "I would be too, if my sons did that right before I had to present them to a royal house." The first time he really was introduced to the roayls, was likely with grass in his teeth, dirty, and ruffled up from his crash course. He laughs again at the memory, "I'm quite certain the royal parents were happy that they were not marrying their daughter to me at that point." He smirks, lazily drawing up his elbow to sit on the back of the couch, so that his hand can hold his chin, at the same time nodding to the wine to be placed on the table in reach, should he wish of it. On his lips, a nostalgic smile.

"You -thought- I was joking, but I was quite serious at the end, when I knew … you were to be taken to Stormvale," he admits it now, unafraid because saying it will change nothing, "I was young. Thoughts of freedom were rampant in my skull. I didn't want the responsibilities, like many boys, I just wanted to choose my own way." And yet, he didn't. He snorts a little disbelievingly at her mention of their made up language, "I swear it was like some sort of bird call while saying words backwards. Don't ask how we made that one up, even I can't remember." But he chuckles at some faint memory of those days.

"I see where my daughter gets the stealing horses bit from…" he suddenly says in a deadpan tone, before he cracks a large grin, "Don't ever let her hear me say that. But how -careless- we were back then!"

He shakes his head, watching her features as well as that chest of her's rising and falling, never quite staring at it but being aware of her emotions all the same. His hazel eyes draw firmly to her own eyes as she wishes to confess something to him, "There's none that would hear of it from my lips. I swear to you Tish, not a word." Realizing the tears in her eyes, he reaches forward with his free hand and taps just lightly under her chin, like he would if she was ever down when they where young, a way to say, cheer up, giving her one of his comforting smiles and nods, to press her forward but to reassure her that he's there for her all the same.

Oh. Well. That chin tap breaks down the last little walls she had erected, though his words so freely given assisted greatly with that. With a sudden expulsion of air Laetitia is tugging her hand from his to reach out with both arms so that she may wrap her arms about his neck and squeeze in tightly as she had wished to do when she arrived at the door. Indeed, when he made himself known to her when he was back from Lakeshire. She'd even tug him into her lap as she did when they were younger, teasing him about being stronger than him whilst stealing cheek rubs here and there to prove she had the upper hand over him and send him rushing away bright red so that he could have regained the upper hand over her.

And there she will cling, the scent of the rose perfume she so adores bright upon her flesh and hair, her cheek buried into his neck. And there she will stay for a long moment. Minutes. Hours if she could. She'd have responded to him but all she could do was watch his lips move, the crinkle at the edges of his eyes as they extended out towards his hairline, familiar etchings mingling with the new that she so achingly wished she had been in person to witness come to fruition. Isys was a lucky woman, Laetitia was free to say it when the woman was alive, admitted it thoroughly while celebrating the union, though feeling a keen pain inside her own heart despite the happiness she had found herself in the King.

"If I asked you to run away with me, Aidan, would you?" It's with these words she pulls back from the hug, shifting arms so that elbows may drop so that she may cup his cheeks with her hands as she studies his face most seriously, "Would you run back to the fields with me now, while I am old, graying, losing those virtues which caused so many to seek me out in our youth?" He may have said as much at the beginning, but here she is now, imploring him to say he will, "If I sent to you ..word, that I was running, would you?" Maid and servant be damned, there's a fervent hum to her words, her face near to his, scent of sweet wine upon her lips as she searches his eyes, thumbs caressing against his cheeks. She's crossed a line entirely now, but there is uncaring in her attitude - she's done much lately that can not be changed, and there is renewed hope in her to grasp just ..a shimmer of something that is life, "Even but a few weeks. I know you've obligations …" And she does too, though she's been relieved of much in a short time, freeing her up, as it were, "Would you?"

Decorum was absent for the most part, though there had still been a barrier holding them from anything than a hand hold - until her arms are flung and stretched out around his neck, feeling the woman against him so abruptly, yet, no restraint or disapproval. He finds himself drawing his now freed hand around her, to embrace her as he wished to do when she first came inside. The days of young he would pick her up and sweep her in circles. For most, affection was not a part of marriage. For Aidan, as well as he assumed for Laetitia, they had learned to love those they married and in some ways, Aidan had tried to see the woman he truly loved in the woman he married. Such a moment with her arms around him in abrupt emotion has him quickly taking in a breath, closing his eyes firmly in those moments, holding back the rush of everything he had practiced to keep securely tied down, to face whatever storms he had to. Now, the ropes were snapping and the longer he felt her there, with the rise of her rose perfume filling his nostrils again, he didn't know how long he could keep things tightly bound inside.

In those precious moments, there was nothing but his steady breathing and his arm that curled around her in a protective way. His faint scent of sandalwood was present, a musk that he preferred himself, lightly applied, detected now with her face close to him like that. His face curled down, to allow his jaw and cheek to lightly settle against her own, holding her now in that long moment, not willing to let it break. This is how it should've been. His other hand that was nearest to the back of the couch gently combs through that flaxen hair he dreamt about for much of his youth and even sometimes late into his marriage with Isys. Terrible as it was to admit that. Yet, to absolve himself of regret, he made to be one of Callem's friends, playing chess with him, getting to know the man so to know that Laetitia was to be alright. Yet, in the last decade, he hadn't spent quite so much time at Stormvale, if at all, becoming aloof in his Lakeshire Hold of the world in general.

Her ask to him breaks the thoughts of the past, looking down at her as she suddenly pulls back to put her hands upon his cheeks, to which his own follows and holds against her's, "I would… although it is treason to speak it, I would take you to the ends of the earth to live out the rest of our days." The light in his eyes says it all. He never did lose the love for her that blossomed as children and grew firm when they were teenagers, to firmly rest forever in his heart when they became adults… even if by then it was much too late to do anything about it. "You just have to say when.. and we shall fly from our cages as old birds, but birds who can remember their freedoms of youth." Damn her lips were so close, his heart was pounding in his chest, once again made the foolish boy in those fields with a flaxen haired girl he tried to impress so she would let him do this very thing, a kiss. It was treason while she was the Queen and married to the King, but was it even more treasonous to forsake one's heart after so long of pretending? He leans forward just enough into that fervent hum of her words, pausing only with a slight gap between them that she'd have to fill to be entirely …scandalous.

"To the ends of the earth… where ever we shall make that be…" comes his whisper, the heat of his breath over her wine wet lips.

"The King has let me go." She whispers in that space between their lips, her jewel green eyes have warmed to such levels that her joy is almost palatable as her nose touches to his, keeping firm, nary a smidgen of a pull back done. No, within his realm she stays, hands beneath his upon his cheeks, "I no longer have favor at his side, he has cast me away to be the King wholly." It's hard to admit as much, though within this moment as she is with Aidan? It doesn't seem to matter. Her heart, so thoroughly broken, was now beating in such a lively manner with a man that she had girlish feelings for that somehow lingered throughout the years, even with her time with Callem. Of course her love for Callem was real, and it had grown, though in times of great need it had wilted, slowly dying like a plant without the rain it so desperately craved while he pined away in solitude neglecting not only his Kingdom but his Queen. Her love for Aidan remained ….a warm memory clutched deeply within her heart, a womans secret carried for decades, her path already so clearly chosen and set out for her.

And here, now, with Aidan in front of her, so open with her, and the look that she sees as she gazes upon him, it all seems so clear. So easy, "You do not have to speak of such if it worries you so, Aidan …just come with me, yes? Come with me, and …we shall go. To the ends of the earth." Echoing his words, heart fluttering so hard, pounding in her ears, so close. Just a ghost of a tilt forwards, those eyes of his thoroughly enrapturing her. How long had it been? And yet here he was, still that young man to her.

The butterfly whisper of her lips against him will then suddenly occur, it's the barest of tilts forwards, her maid thoroughly looking elsewhere, blushing deeply as she tries to focus wholly on this knitting of hers. She sees nothing, she hears nothing. Her gentle grip upon his face firms as she presses more firmly into the kiss, a most forbidden act within this moment, but one she had wanted as a young woman before she was married, only ever having tasted the lips of Callem up until now.

The tickle of his facial hair against the softness of his lips, a warmth rises and swells within her stomach, stemming out so that a clear heated tingle creeps up through her limbs, through fingertips and even the roots of her hair outwards, it's all …hard to believe. A sudden laugh worms its way through her throat, one of disbelief, even as she slides her right hand in through that hair of his, greying in such a lovely manner, to cradle the back of his head as she presses more firmly in, "Please-" Whispered against his lips, her eyes opening to search his, nose against his, lips playing with each word she speaks further so gently, "Tell me that this is not a cruel dream that I will wake up to, alone in my bed."

The hand that remains on his cheek tugs down, smoothing against his jaw, then back upwards, once more at his cheek, a breathy exhale done just a second before another kiss is sought, her lips parting just slightly as she seeks it out, eyes closing once more. Lips will shift away from his mouth to kiss the corner of it to the left, then to the right, and then a tilt of her head upwards to kiss his nose, then over to his cheek - at this point the maiden is thoroughly red, a look given to the servant in the room with her. Should they …do something? She's never encountered this situation with the Queen ever before. Meanwhile the Queen will continue to press those kisses over Aidans face, allowing him perhaps time to answer. Or time to push her away and come to his senses. But each kiss is ardently delivered, giving into passions wrought through her youth and carefully tucked away until now.

Left in for humour:

<OOC> Laetitia says, "Oh this scene kills me."
<OOC> Aidan says, "you're already dead, it's killing me! >D"
<OOC> Laetitia dies, "Point!!"
<OOC> Aidan lols!

"Such a fool is he…" Aidan whispers as if astonished at the decision of the King but at the same time grateful for this moment, the man they call the Duke of Lakeshire pulled together so swiftly with the Queen of Mobrin,and yet, after so many years not seemingly missing a beat from where they ended as boy and girl. The pools of her green eyes have stayed the same even if age lines have marked around them, losing himself into those warm promises of bliss. "Then let him rule… let him seek a throne no longer his… All I care about is you, and you are here with -me-…" he says as if surprised by that as well, happily, most energetically, as if it has kick started that youthful spirit within him, breaking free of the constraints that had held it so in check over the decades. His own love for Isys was true, as would suggest the extended period of morning, but it had grown from the realities that he couldn't share his life with whom he wanted and eventually settled for the woman he was betrothed to, loving her in a much different manner.

This for him was a passion he had never found with another woman. A chemistry that was magnetic and caused him to shift between laughter and fear and back again. "You don't have to ask me again… I will go, as I finally realized why I came to the city now… when it was apparent none wanted me for council or to impart with me their plans. It's because I am to take you away from this, where we both can spend what life we have left…." he doesn't say it because at that point those lips have brushed like a feather across his own.

The faint touch begins a ripple effect that continues as the invitation is accepted and the world suddenly nothing more than the electrifying heat of a melding lips. His arm tightens around her waist, not so slight as it once had been, due to her child bearing and her age, but nevertheless, he's eager to pull her toward him, fingers expanding like a paw before gently gripping at the back of her dress. He must be mad. Though if he was, he was certainly enjoying the crazy house. It's all he can do to try and keep himself from picking her up and carrying her off. The guards outside would surely not be pleased and the maid with her blushing over at the servant as they debate on what to do, will only keep so long as it does not involve anything more than a kiss. Perhaps that is all he was meant to receive.

His cheeks are warm underneath her hands as she breaks the kiss to plead with him, causing his lips to turn into an impish grin, "You can awaken here, if you like and… by day we should be on our way to the ends of the earth." Promising her a warm night of companionship and then a quick leave in the morning… perhaps in a -dream- it would be so easy.

Now that he's given her his word that he will go with her, the plan is already set into motion within her mind and heart. It's settled. Perhaps it is mad, and maybe it will last but a small time in which they will have to make due with what time they have to make up for lost time, for moments that should have been where they in another lifetime. His words, his touch, everything, it touches upon her deeply and she's overwhelmed with the surety of it all. The surety within this moment.

In time she would admit many secrets to Aidan, things she hadn't told a soul, not even her most trusted ladies, things she had kept close to her heart - perhaps on the road to Lakeshire as they stole away to steal moments with each other. She wanted him to know everything about her that he had missed, good and bad, thoughts and dreams, those she wished she had been young enough to live out with him.

But with his confirmation, his promise, she feels sure enough to leave him now to prepare, "Aidan. Keep me in your heart, do not let this feeling go, yes? Keep it warm for me so that when I come in a few days time I am once again welcomed home so lovingly as I was today. Know that I will not let this feeling go ever again, my heart for you will no longer ache with forgotten wishes and hopes." That energy seems to be jumping off him to her, and with a last kiss that she lingers into she is soon wrapping her arms again about him in a tight hug, not wanting to let him go but preparations must be made, "I will send you word. The dawn straight after, meet me on the beach, the far edge, where the rocks creep. Do not leave me waiting, for if you are not there when I arrive I shall find in your absence confirmation that I am to live my last days most unhappily."

Out of the hug she'll pry herself, kissing once more to his head, her hands reaching to unlatch the necklace from about her neck, grabbing one of his hands and tucking it into his palm, slender fingers curling about his much larger ones, "Give it back to me when we meet again, or if you deign to come, keep it as a reminder that I most ardently wished for a life lived with you until the end of our remaining days." Breathlessly said, the Queen rising up, most flushed, closing her eyes and forcing herself away from Aiden, "Rosie, lets us go." A nod to the servant of Aidans as the Queen forces herself out, but not without a backwards glance over her shoulder to him and last parting words, "To have dreamed of loving you …and now…to have chance to claim your heart to side with mine …There is nothing else I could ask for." A happy smile, her green eyes stung with tears, ones of insurmountable joy, the Queen sweeping out to coats and cloaks and eventually off into the snow and carriage, back to prepare.

The insanity of what he's committed to, is treason if he's doing it based on his feelings. It would be a matter of escorting the Queen to Lakeshire to retire for a few weeks on the outside, though should this ever rise to the surface as anything else - the first conclusion comes to mind. Yet, how could he say no to her, like this, right now, bound with such emotions as they've been made to lock inside for all these years? He bound to be the Duke in public with her and she the Queen, to the point that she had to prove her point that she was indeed, the Queen when it mattered - such as what happened in the council meeting. He was a fool. And yet, he'd gladly be one for her. And why not? She came to him and he's been waiting for her to do so.

The sense that she was about to leave has his gut twist in a fearful way, "You've always been in my heart Tish." His smile is sincere, a small lift of admission of a knight's love for his queen, or in this case a duke's love for his queen. "A few days of waiting matters not, for I have always waited… and believed I would have to wait until my next life to do anything about it…" He holds onto her firmly, not wanting to let get, but knowing she would have to make proper word to her family of her intended leave to Lakeshire, a visit that may see her enjoy the later years of her life.

"The dawn, straight after… I will meet you there. I will prepare the house to move, so that we provide you with a formal escort, as befitting a Queen." A shake of his head, "I will not leave you waiting. I will be there." A promise, firm, that he will find her near the rocks.

His eyes turn up as she untangles herself from around him, while his palm is grabbed and within it the necklace that had sit so long around her next is placed there as if a symbol for their promise to keep. "I will be there-" he reaffirms as his fingers close around the necklace, standing when she does, at a loss for words perhaps beyond what has already been said. He lingers there with a cold hand at the back of his neck and his stomach churning as he holds onto her necklace, the happiness clouded by some foreboding, which he chalks up to the fact that this was a dangerous game, the worst of all that they have yet played together. But at least, to the last, he confesses before they walk back out into the lights of public, "I always have, be it from afar and under a cloud of smoke and mirrors, I have loved you."

A pause between the words as he walks but a few paces to watch her get bundled, "Good night Tish. In the dawn, a new life shall begin."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License