SFW Snippet No. 1

[vestablackclaw]

Snippet from a much larger fic I'm working on. Just thought this scene was really cute .o.

Focus: Ysayle, Xaela Warrior of Light (Surkukteni)
Relationship: wolysayle predominantly, as well as a polyamorous quad (Warrior of Light/Aymeric/Estinien/Ysayle) and estimeric
Note: all parties involved are bi, biphobic comments will not be tolerated.

CW: drunk character, reference to alcohol.

It was well past sunset when a lull had settled in, lamplight and firelight illuminating the room. Seating arrangements had shifted countless times - partly so that Ysayle could drag Surkukteni into her and refuse to let her go, partly so that Aymeric might join them after he’d loosened up a fair bit. Surkukteni found herself with Ysayle draped over her, her own legs propped up on Aymeric’s in a consignment that she was well and truly trapped; might as well drag him down with her. Much to her delight - and Ysayle’s amusement - Estinien was finally getting over himself and a decade of hangups, trapped in his corner yet clearly not minding how close Aymeric was - resting his head on the Lord Speaker’s shoulder as he looked truly content, a rare occurrence if there ever was one.

Aymeric would be the one to break the lull, a glance at the dark window drawing a thoughtful expression on his face. It came to no surprise that he would invite them to stay for dinner, as he was ever looking for an excuse to keep company. So, it was only natural that they took him up on the offer. Estinien was quick to offer his help, leaving Surkukteni and Ysayle entangled in the other on the couch - Surkukteni laying back against one of the arms while Ysayle laid on top of her.

“Mm, I like ours better,” Ysayle muttered, resting her head against Surkukteni’s chest.

“Like what better?” Surkukteni asked through a laugh, drawing her fingers through Ysayle’s silken hair.

“Our couch. It’s actually used, thus somewhat comfortable.”

“Well, I’d blame it more on the schedule of the manor’s inhabitant than the couch itself.” Surkukteni paused, a toothy grin spreading across her face. “Though, what are you complaining about? You speak as if you aren’t currently using my tits as a pillow.”

“‘s a nice pillow,” Ysayle muttered, clearly more in her cups than Surkukteni had initially realized - who knew that Lady Iceheart was a lightweight?

“You don’t find this position at all compromising?” Nothing Surkukteni was complaining about, she just found it deeply funny.

“Why would I when they’re very likely figuring out how to be handsy in the kitchen?” As if to punctuate her point, she slumped further into Surkukteni’s chest, glancing glacial eyes up at her.

A bark of a laugh escaped Surkukteni. “And what proof do you have of that?”

“Decade of repressed feelings, for one.” Ysayle sat up a bit, turning her head slightly in the direction Aymeric and Estinien had gone off to. “...And I don’t hear talking, so either they’re absorbed in their task - which I doubt - or snogging. I’m putting my gil on the latter.” She leaned back down, folding her arms under her chin so she might get a handful of one of Surkukteni’s tits. “We could be snogging, too, you know.”

“What if I’m fine like this?” One hand still in Ysayle’s hair, the other moved to rest on her back, slotting them closer together. “What if I like the quiet?”

“Well, one: you’re lying to yourself.” That got another laugh from Surkukteni as Ysayle leaned up to hover in her face. “Two: it’s not as if it’s contradictory to quiet.”

“Touche, Bluejay,” Surkukteni muttered on a low rumble, cupping the back of her lover’s head to hold them closer together. “Touche.”

It really was endearing seeing Ysayle fluster still at that nickname - one that so perfectly fit her: absolutely gorgeous, yet feisty and stubborn. Though in all fairness, pet names in general seemed to be her one, true weakness - well, that and praise, but Surkukteni would spare her any further flustering.

Ysayle got what she wanted as Surkukteni met her in a lazy kiss, the taste of that wine still strong on her lips. It left a comfortable quiet - the fireplace a soothing ambience - as they partook of the other. Content sighs, Ysayle humming into the kiss, that low rumble of Surkukteni’s resonating in her throat - they would join the crackle of the fire, like there was naught else on the star but the two of them.