The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
The strain that Aimias was under was not missed nor ignored. Iris could feel it too. It almost radiated off him. The responsiblity that he felt in the wake of Persephone's disappearance. The frustration and lack of movement that he had been able to instill in the Athenian court. Iris was not in a position to do very much about it. She did not have the same clout that he did, but she had deigned not to be entirely useless.
She had thrown herself into her own work. As the new baroness of Aetaea, she was always busy. There was so much to do, so much to care for. But at the end of the night, she always came out of her office in search for her husband. Sometimes she would find him at the Palati and others he would set up in their home in the city.
On this particular night, she stepped out into the hall of the manor, finding it a little too quiet to her liking. Her aunt and cousins had been sent away back to Aetaea. Her step-daughter as well. The lack of noise and movement, the lack of laughter that Iris had quickly grown used to... it was deafening. Acantha and Gaios had both retired for the night. Iris paused in the hall, leaning heavily against the wall and scrubbing tiredly at her face.
Her gaze flicked to the closed door of her father's former bedroom. A room she hadn't gone in to clear out yet for sheer fear of not being able to keep her composure. Even though the man had been incredibly ill for years upon years, Iris still felt the shock of his loss straight to her core. Her heart ached at the absence of yet another person in her life.
It was the lonliness that she was struggling so deeply with. It was one thing to have a busy schedule and a busy husband with his own duties, but she hadn't expected the near complete silence and lack of... anything between them. Aimias was markedly different without Phillipa about. In any other situation it wouldn't really have bothered Iris, but tonight she found that she didn't want to simply settle with it.
Brushing her fingers along the wall, she caught the soft glow of the oil lamps coming from the room that Aimias used as his study in the home. For the moment, she was relieved that he was there. The brunette found herself leaning in the doorway, watching her husband work at one of the tables, his back to her. On silent feet, her skirts hissing slightly against the stone floor, Iris approached him.
Her fingers trailed his shoulders first. Then over and down against his chest in a gentle hug from behind. Her lips brushed against his temple and one hand left his chest to carefully still his hand from writing any more. "Aimias," Iris whispered, finding her normal tone of voice too biting and loud for such a quiet setting. "You hardly rest," she chided gently, keeping her hand against his.
"Come take a walk with me."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The strain that Aimias was under was not missed nor ignored. Iris could feel it too. It almost radiated off him. The responsiblity that he felt in the wake of Persephone's disappearance. The frustration and lack of movement that he had been able to instill in the Athenian court. Iris was not in a position to do very much about it. She did not have the same clout that he did, but she had deigned not to be entirely useless.
She had thrown herself into her own work. As the new baroness of Aetaea, she was always busy. There was so much to do, so much to care for. But at the end of the night, she always came out of her office in search for her husband. Sometimes she would find him at the Palati and others he would set up in their home in the city.
On this particular night, she stepped out into the hall of the manor, finding it a little too quiet to her liking. Her aunt and cousins had been sent away back to Aetaea. Her step-daughter as well. The lack of noise and movement, the lack of laughter that Iris had quickly grown used to... it was deafening. Acantha and Gaios had both retired for the night. Iris paused in the hall, leaning heavily against the wall and scrubbing tiredly at her face.
Her gaze flicked to the closed door of her father's former bedroom. A room she hadn't gone in to clear out yet for sheer fear of not being able to keep her composure. Even though the man had been incredibly ill for years upon years, Iris still felt the shock of his loss straight to her core. Her heart ached at the absence of yet another person in her life.
It was the lonliness that she was struggling so deeply with. It was one thing to have a busy schedule and a busy husband with his own duties, but she hadn't expected the near complete silence and lack of... anything between them. Aimias was markedly different without Phillipa about. In any other situation it wouldn't really have bothered Iris, but tonight she found that she didn't want to simply settle with it.
Brushing her fingers along the wall, she caught the soft glow of the oil lamps coming from the room that Aimias used as his study in the home. For the moment, she was relieved that he was there. The brunette found herself leaning in the doorway, watching her husband work at one of the tables, his back to her. On silent feet, her skirts hissing slightly against the stone floor, Iris approached him.
Her fingers trailed his shoulders first. Then over and down against his chest in a gentle hug from behind. Her lips brushed against his temple and one hand left his chest to carefully still his hand from writing any more. "Aimias," Iris whispered, finding her normal tone of voice too biting and loud for such a quiet setting. "You hardly rest," she chided gently, keeping her hand against his.
"Come take a walk with me."
The strain that Aimias was under was not missed nor ignored. Iris could feel it too. It almost radiated off him. The responsiblity that he felt in the wake of Persephone's disappearance. The frustration and lack of movement that he had been able to instill in the Athenian court. Iris was not in a position to do very much about it. She did not have the same clout that he did, but she had deigned not to be entirely useless.
She had thrown herself into her own work. As the new baroness of Aetaea, she was always busy. There was so much to do, so much to care for. But at the end of the night, she always came out of her office in search for her husband. Sometimes she would find him at the Palati and others he would set up in their home in the city.
On this particular night, she stepped out into the hall of the manor, finding it a little too quiet to her liking. Her aunt and cousins had been sent away back to Aetaea. Her step-daughter as well. The lack of noise and movement, the lack of laughter that Iris had quickly grown used to... it was deafening. Acantha and Gaios had both retired for the night. Iris paused in the hall, leaning heavily against the wall and scrubbing tiredly at her face.
Her gaze flicked to the closed door of her father's former bedroom. A room she hadn't gone in to clear out yet for sheer fear of not being able to keep her composure. Even though the man had been incredibly ill for years upon years, Iris still felt the shock of his loss straight to her core. Her heart ached at the absence of yet another person in her life.
It was the lonliness that she was struggling so deeply with. It was one thing to have a busy schedule and a busy husband with his own duties, but she hadn't expected the near complete silence and lack of... anything between them. Aimias was markedly different without Phillipa about. In any other situation it wouldn't really have bothered Iris, but tonight she found that she didn't want to simply settle with it.
Brushing her fingers along the wall, she caught the soft glow of the oil lamps coming from the room that Aimias used as his study in the home. For the moment, she was relieved that he was there. The brunette found herself leaning in the doorway, watching her husband work at one of the tables, his back to her. On silent feet, her skirts hissing slightly against the stone floor, Iris approached him.
Her fingers trailed his shoulders first. Then over and down against his chest in a gentle hug from behind. Her lips brushed against his temple and one hand left his chest to carefully still his hand from writing any more. "Aimias," Iris whispered, finding her normal tone of voice too biting and loud for such a quiet setting. "You hardly rest," she chided gently, keeping her hand against his.
"Come take a walk with me."
He woke up almost every morning with a headache.
He had hoped to find some sort of relief from the ache that always seemed to be at his temples. It was never very strong, just a dull reminder that he was barely surviving in this new life he found himself in. By the end of the day, it was usually a pounding in his ears that was absolutely deafening. Aimias hated the level of stress he was under, but what else could he do?
Elias seemed hell-bent on running the kingdom into ruin and taking the Xanthos family down. He was doing his best to keep his head above water, but how could he keep the kingdom afloat on his own?
It wasn’t helping that he hadn’t heard a word from Persephone yet. He couldn’t reassure Emilia that her sister was alive when he wasn’t even sure of it himself. And he didn’t exactly talk to anyone about what he had done. He hadn’t even told his wife that he’d sent the letters out, too worried that she would have been angry with him for putting them in further danger.
He had taken to sleeping in his study, waking halfway through the night to join his wife in bed. She had her own concerns that he couldn’t do anything about. And he didn’t want to overburden her with his own fears. Iris was dealing with the death of her father and the newfound responsibility of being the head of the family. He may have been the Lord of Argyris now, but it was just a title-- he had no real say over things there.
If he was being completely honest with himself, Aimias would have admitted that he was avoiding his wife. And his reasons behind it were horribly selfish. He knew he was a disappointment. Unable to keep the royal on the throne. Unable to be the Lord of the house that she needed him to be. As a man, he was nothing. The only way he’d been able to keep his daughter safe was to send her away. His heart ached with how much he missed her, how much he felt like a failure as a father. And he didn’t want to admit just how depressed he really was.
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten.
Staring at the pile of parchment on his desk, he wanted to brush it all aside in frustration. He’d been staring at the same missive for so long that his eyes ached, and he couldn’t even remember what the letter said. He was able to start a reply when he felt light fingers brushing across his shoulders and down his chest. Her embrace was a welcomed distraction, but one he wasn’t expecting to last long.
After all, they had barely touched since Persephone vanished.
Fingers curled around hers, and he instinctively brought his other hand to the one on his chest, grasping it firmly as it was pressed just above his heart. ”Sleep does not bring any relief.” He said softly, honestly. It was a hard thing to admit, but his defenses were down. ”So why waste the time?” He tried to make his voice sound light so as not to worry her, but he failed.
”You should be resting, Iris.” He dropped her hand from his chest, turning to face her. He gave her a soft smile, which only highlighted the weight he’d lost in the last few weeks.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
He woke up almost every morning with a headache.
He had hoped to find some sort of relief from the ache that always seemed to be at his temples. It was never very strong, just a dull reminder that he was barely surviving in this new life he found himself in. By the end of the day, it was usually a pounding in his ears that was absolutely deafening. Aimias hated the level of stress he was under, but what else could he do?
Elias seemed hell-bent on running the kingdom into ruin and taking the Xanthos family down. He was doing his best to keep his head above water, but how could he keep the kingdom afloat on his own?
It wasn’t helping that he hadn’t heard a word from Persephone yet. He couldn’t reassure Emilia that her sister was alive when he wasn’t even sure of it himself. And he didn’t exactly talk to anyone about what he had done. He hadn’t even told his wife that he’d sent the letters out, too worried that she would have been angry with him for putting them in further danger.
He had taken to sleeping in his study, waking halfway through the night to join his wife in bed. She had her own concerns that he couldn’t do anything about. And he didn’t want to overburden her with his own fears. Iris was dealing with the death of her father and the newfound responsibility of being the head of the family. He may have been the Lord of Argyris now, but it was just a title-- he had no real say over things there.
If he was being completely honest with himself, Aimias would have admitted that he was avoiding his wife. And his reasons behind it were horribly selfish. He knew he was a disappointment. Unable to keep the royal on the throne. Unable to be the Lord of the house that she needed him to be. As a man, he was nothing. The only way he’d been able to keep his daughter safe was to send her away. His heart ached with how much he missed her, how much he felt like a failure as a father. And he didn’t want to admit just how depressed he really was.
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten.
Staring at the pile of parchment on his desk, he wanted to brush it all aside in frustration. He’d been staring at the same missive for so long that his eyes ached, and he couldn’t even remember what the letter said. He was able to start a reply when he felt light fingers brushing across his shoulders and down his chest. Her embrace was a welcomed distraction, but one he wasn’t expecting to last long.
After all, they had barely touched since Persephone vanished.
Fingers curled around hers, and he instinctively brought his other hand to the one on his chest, grasping it firmly as it was pressed just above his heart. ”Sleep does not bring any relief.” He said softly, honestly. It was a hard thing to admit, but his defenses were down. ”So why waste the time?” He tried to make his voice sound light so as not to worry her, but he failed.
”You should be resting, Iris.” He dropped her hand from his chest, turning to face her. He gave her a soft smile, which only highlighted the weight he’d lost in the last few weeks.
He woke up almost every morning with a headache.
He had hoped to find some sort of relief from the ache that always seemed to be at his temples. It was never very strong, just a dull reminder that he was barely surviving in this new life he found himself in. By the end of the day, it was usually a pounding in his ears that was absolutely deafening. Aimias hated the level of stress he was under, but what else could he do?
Elias seemed hell-bent on running the kingdom into ruin and taking the Xanthos family down. He was doing his best to keep his head above water, but how could he keep the kingdom afloat on his own?
It wasn’t helping that he hadn’t heard a word from Persephone yet. He couldn’t reassure Emilia that her sister was alive when he wasn’t even sure of it himself. And he didn’t exactly talk to anyone about what he had done. He hadn’t even told his wife that he’d sent the letters out, too worried that she would have been angry with him for putting them in further danger.
He had taken to sleeping in his study, waking halfway through the night to join his wife in bed. She had her own concerns that he couldn’t do anything about. And he didn’t want to overburden her with his own fears. Iris was dealing with the death of her father and the newfound responsibility of being the head of the family. He may have been the Lord of Argyris now, but it was just a title-- he had no real say over things there.
If he was being completely honest with himself, Aimias would have admitted that he was avoiding his wife. And his reasons behind it were horribly selfish. He knew he was a disappointment. Unable to keep the royal on the throne. Unable to be the Lord of the house that she needed him to be. As a man, he was nothing. The only way he’d been able to keep his daughter safe was to send her away. His heart ached with how much he missed her, how much he felt like a failure as a father. And he didn’t want to admit just how depressed he really was.
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten.
Staring at the pile of parchment on his desk, he wanted to brush it all aside in frustration. He’d been staring at the same missive for so long that his eyes ached, and he couldn’t even remember what the letter said. He was able to start a reply when he felt light fingers brushing across his shoulders and down his chest. Her embrace was a welcomed distraction, but one he wasn’t expecting to last long.
After all, they had barely touched since Persephone vanished.
Fingers curled around hers, and he instinctively brought his other hand to the one on his chest, grasping it firmly as it was pressed just above his heart. ”Sleep does not bring any relief.” He said softly, honestly. It was a hard thing to admit, but his defenses were down. ”So why waste the time?” He tried to make his voice sound light so as not to worry her, but he failed.
”You should be resting, Iris.” He dropped her hand from his chest, turning to face her. He gave her a soft smile, which only highlighted the weight he’d lost in the last few weeks.
It hurt the lady's heart to see her own husband so tired and forlorn. To know that he had been taking so little care of himself even in the face of all the struggles that were facing the Kingdom. Iris knew that Persephone had meant a lot to him. Still did. She knew that the Kingdom was his highest priority. But he would be of no use to anyone if he did not rest. If he did not eat.
With her green gaze remaining on his face as he turned to face her, she felt a little delight in the fact that Aimias hadn't pulled away from her. They had hardly touched in the last month and if she didn't know any better, she might have thought her husband regretted marrying her. Not that Iris would be able to blame him. She would have regretted marrying her too. She was stubborn and unmoving and she didn't like to be told what to do. Major flaws for a wife to have in the eyes of many men.
But her own insecurities were not her issue right then. Her issue was how haggard and exhausted the man before her looked. It was worrying beyond measure and she found herself inching closer when he turned to face her. Tentatively, her hand that had been on his chest trailed up to his jaw as she leaned more over him. "You will be of no use to anyone if you have passed for lack of rest and sustenance," Iris chided very softly, "You cannot help the Kingdom if you are not at your best," she coaxed then.
She let him go, moving to put herself in front of him, leaning against the desk a little off to the side at first. Then, she thought better of it and moved to settle into his lap, pressing her lips against his cheek as she did so. One arm settled across his shoulders, "I will not accept you shifting focus from yourself to me, Aimias," Iris whispered, pulling back to look him in the eye. "I find my rest when you do," the lady added rather pointedly, her expression entirely thoughtful. "Can you spare a few hours for your wife, Aimias?" there was a veiled plea to her voice. She was desperate for a mental break from the strain. Relief from the constant stress of her job and his that weighed them both down.
Not to mention the loss they both felt. Iris for her father having passed on and Aimias for his daughter being many miles away and far out of reach. But, the silver lining was that they had one another. That had to count for something, right?
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It hurt the lady's heart to see her own husband so tired and forlorn. To know that he had been taking so little care of himself even in the face of all the struggles that were facing the Kingdom. Iris knew that Persephone had meant a lot to him. Still did. She knew that the Kingdom was his highest priority. But he would be of no use to anyone if he did not rest. If he did not eat.
With her green gaze remaining on his face as he turned to face her, she felt a little delight in the fact that Aimias hadn't pulled away from her. They had hardly touched in the last month and if she didn't know any better, she might have thought her husband regretted marrying her. Not that Iris would be able to blame him. She would have regretted marrying her too. She was stubborn and unmoving and she didn't like to be told what to do. Major flaws for a wife to have in the eyes of many men.
But her own insecurities were not her issue right then. Her issue was how haggard and exhausted the man before her looked. It was worrying beyond measure and she found herself inching closer when he turned to face her. Tentatively, her hand that had been on his chest trailed up to his jaw as she leaned more over him. "You will be of no use to anyone if you have passed for lack of rest and sustenance," Iris chided very softly, "You cannot help the Kingdom if you are not at your best," she coaxed then.
She let him go, moving to put herself in front of him, leaning against the desk a little off to the side at first. Then, she thought better of it and moved to settle into his lap, pressing her lips against his cheek as she did so. One arm settled across his shoulders, "I will not accept you shifting focus from yourself to me, Aimias," Iris whispered, pulling back to look him in the eye. "I find my rest when you do," the lady added rather pointedly, her expression entirely thoughtful. "Can you spare a few hours for your wife, Aimias?" there was a veiled plea to her voice. She was desperate for a mental break from the strain. Relief from the constant stress of her job and his that weighed them both down.
Not to mention the loss they both felt. Iris for her father having passed on and Aimias for his daughter being many miles away and far out of reach. But, the silver lining was that they had one another. That had to count for something, right?
It hurt the lady's heart to see her own husband so tired and forlorn. To know that he had been taking so little care of himself even in the face of all the struggles that were facing the Kingdom. Iris knew that Persephone had meant a lot to him. Still did. She knew that the Kingdom was his highest priority. But he would be of no use to anyone if he did not rest. If he did not eat.
With her green gaze remaining on his face as he turned to face her, she felt a little delight in the fact that Aimias hadn't pulled away from her. They had hardly touched in the last month and if she didn't know any better, she might have thought her husband regretted marrying her. Not that Iris would be able to blame him. She would have regretted marrying her too. She was stubborn and unmoving and she didn't like to be told what to do. Major flaws for a wife to have in the eyes of many men.
But her own insecurities were not her issue right then. Her issue was how haggard and exhausted the man before her looked. It was worrying beyond measure and she found herself inching closer when he turned to face her. Tentatively, her hand that had been on his chest trailed up to his jaw as she leaned more over him. "You will be of no use to anyone if you have passed for lack of rest and sustenance," Iris chided very softly, "You cannot help the Kingdom if you are not at your best," she coaxed then.
She let him go, moving to put herself in front of him, leaning against the desk a little off to the side at first. Then, she thought better of it and moved to settle into his lap, pressing her lips against his cheek as she did so. One arm settled across his shoulders, "I will not accept you shifting focus from yourself to me, Aimias," Iris whispered, pulling back to look him in the eye. "I find my rest when you do," the lady added rather pointedly, her expression entirely thoughtful. "Can you spare a few hours for your wife, Aimias?" there was a veiled plea to her voice. She was desperate for a mental break from the strain. Relief from the constant stress of her job and his that weighed them both down.
Not to mention the loss they both felt. Iris for her father having passed on and Aimias for his daughter being many miles away and far out of reach. But, the silver lining was that they had one another. That had to count for something, right?
Aimias had looked very similar when his first wife had died. He had done everything the Gods had seemed to demand of him, and yet she had still died in childbirth. The stress of her death, coupled with the responsibility of being a parent had caused him to neglect himself. It had been the King who had offered him a place in his home, had made sure that the newborn was cared for while he mourned.
Now, it was the death of a man who had been like a father to him and the disappearance of his Queen that had driven him to stress as he was. And he knew he was neglecting his wife. He wanted nothing more than to do something about it. But he just didn’t have the energy. By the end of the day, it was all he could do to drag himself into bed and sleep fitfully. It was to the point that he would sleep in his office so not to wake her.
Guilt washed over him as she tilted his head this way and that, the dark circles under his eyes only highlighting the slight sinking in of his cheeks. Every time he tried to eat, he was overcome with nausea. Nothing sounded good, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself at the table. It was true that he wasn’t taking care of himself. But he wasn’t exactly letting her take care of him either. Their marriage had been one of convenience for them both, so he hadn’t expected the tender way she looked at him.
He was self conscious of his growing facial hair as she settled onto his lap. But he didn’t pull away, for fear of offending her. Instead, he let his arm rest on her hip, keeping her in place for the moment. “If that is the case, you may never sleep, my lady.” The end was said with a gentle affection, the corners of his lips turning upward at her. But there was no sparkle in his eyes, not when Philipa was so far away, without her family.
Aimias listened to her request, and started to protest. He went on about the crop reports he needed to prepare and the letters he needed to write, but stopped midway through. There was something on her face, something that begged him to stop what he was doing. She needed him, it seemed. And he was terrified to let down one more woman in his life. With a gentle, resolved sigh, Aimias rested his forehead against her temple. “I suppose it can wait until the morning.” He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her for the first time in weeks. “I will always make time for my wife.” He told her, taking a moment to breath her in.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Aimias had looked very similar when his first wife had died. He had done everything the Gods had seemed to demand of him, and yet she had still died in childbirth. The stress of her death, coupled with the responsibility of being a parent had caused him to neglect himself. It had been the King who had offered him a place in his home, had made sure that the newborn was cared for while he mourned.
Now, it was the death of a man who had been like a father to him and the disappearance of his Queen that had driven him to stress as he was. And he knew he was neglecting his wife. He wanted nothing more than to do something about it. But he just didn’t have the energy. By the end of the day, it was all he could do to drag himself into bed and sleep fitfully. It was to the point that he would sleep in his office so not to wake her.
Guilt washed over him as she tilted his head this way and that, the dark circles under his eyes only highlighting the slight sinking in of his cheeks. Every time he tried to eat, he was overcome with nausea. Nothing sounded good, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself at the table. It was true that he wasn’t taking care of himself. But he wasn’t exactly letting her take care of him either. Their marriage had been one of convenience for them both, so he hadn’t expected the tender way she looked at him.
He was self conscious of his growing facial hair as she settled onto his lap. But he didn’t pull away, for fear of offending her. Instead, he let his arm rest on her hip, keeping her in place for the moment. “If that is the case, you may never sleep, my lady.” The end was said with a gentle affection, the corners of his lips turning upward at her. But there was no sparkle in his eyes, not when Philipa was so far away, without her family.
Aimias listened to her request, and started to protest. He went on about the crop reports he needed to prepare and the letters he needed to write, but stopped midway through. There was something on her face, something that begged him to stop what he was doing. She needed him, it seemed. And he was terrified to let down one more woman in his life. With a gentle, resolved sigh, Aimias rested his forehead against her temple. “I suppose it can wait until the morning.” He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her for the first time in weeks. “I will always make time for my wife.” He told her, taking a moment to breath her in.
Aimias had looked very similar when his first wife had died. He had done everything the Gods had seemed to demand of him, and yet she had still died in childbirth. The stress of her death, coupled with the responsibility of being a parent had caused him to neglect himself. It had been the King who had offered him a place in his home, had made sure that the newborn was cared for while he mourned.
Now, it was the death of a man who had been like a father to him and the disappearance of his Queen that had driven him to stress as he was. And he knew he was neglecting his wife. He wanted nothing more than to do something about it. But he just didn’t have the energy. By the end of the day, it was all he could do to drag himself into bed and sleep fitfully. It was to the point that he would sleep in his office so not to wake her.
Guilt washed over him as she tilted his head this way and that, the dark circles under his eyes only highlighting the slight sinking in of his cheeks. Every time he tried to eat, he was overcome with nausea. Nothing sounded good, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself at the table. It was true that he wasn’t taking care of himself. But he wasn’t exactly letting her take care of him either. Their marriage had been one of convenience for them both, so he hadn’t expected the tender way she looked at him.
He was self conscious of his growing facial hair as she settled onto his lap. But he didn’t pull away, for fear of offending her. Instead, he let his arm rest on her hip, keeping her in place for the moment. “If that is the case, you may never sleep, my lady.” The end was said with a gentle affection, the corners of his lips turning upward at her. But there was no sparkle in his eyes, not when Philipa was so far away, without her family.
Aimias listened to her request, and started to protest. He went on about the crop reports he needed to prepare and the letters he needed to write, but stopped midway through. There was something on her face, something that begged him to stop what he was doing. She needed him, it seemed. And he was terrified to let down one more woman in his life. With a gentle, resolved sigh, Aimias rested his forehead against her temple. “I suppose it can wait until the morning.” He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her for the first time in weeks. “I will always make time for my wife.” He told her, taking a moment to breath her in.
Iris could not, no… would not hide the relief she felt when he admitted that he would take a break. Make time for her. Be with her when they had been nothing but apart since the few days after their wedding when the king had died. Weddings were to be happy affairs, and theirs was both peaceful and happy. But then the true reality of the status of their kingdom settled in around them and chased off those happy, fleeting feelings. And then her fathers dead had weighed heavily on her heart. It still did. Even after ten years of mental and physical preparation for the event, Iris still found herself blindsided.
Numerous feelings that she could not easily place as being caused by one thing or another. Iris had found herself nothing but conflicted in the last days. She worked and she ate and she slept and she drank and she socialized where necessary… but there was no true direction. Not when much of the Kingdom had found themselves in uneasy limbo. Food shortages did not help matters, which left Iris floundering to ensure the province was fed.
But being allowed these moments of calm with Aimias? This was exactly what she had needed when her footsteps had brought her to his back. With his arms around her now, she could almost find herself content. Comfortable. Needing of little else now that her one and only goal of the night had been achieved. Her own fingers wandered up and over his shoulders, and the lady's eyes fluttered closed for a moment. The moment of quiet affection was enough, though the rest of her ached for that continued proximity.
"You have said such things multiple times in the last days," Iris murmured gently, one hand trailing at the nape of his neck. "What wouldn't you do for your new bride, Aimias?" she questioned, almost with a teasing lilt, though she appreciated his level of loyalty more than she would likely admit otherwise. "But just as you would do so many selfless things for me, husband, you must fully understand the lengths I would go for your own happiness."
Pulling her head away a bit, Iris turned her head so that she could rest her forehead against his. She found herself wanting to watch his eyes, her hands having wandered back to his cheeks. Her nails scratched affectionately at his beard. "You cannot be the only one willing to sacrifice time and focus. We both are busy, but let us never forget that we are family now," Iris said quietly, leaning in to press her lips tenderly to Aimias' cheek. Her green gaze searched his blue and Iris wound herself smiling rather affectionately. "You are my family now. Phillipa is my family now. Remember that I am here to lean on when you need it. And that I'm never going to stop chiding you to take care of yourself. You're much too important to me to see you hide away in solitude," she shrugged.
"And this has been my long winded assertion on why you need to take a break and come to bed with me," Iris said honestly. "Is it working?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Iris could not, no… would not hide the relief she felt when he admitted that he would take a break. Make time for her. Be with her when they had been nothing but apart since the few days after their wedding when the king had died. Weddings were to be happy affairs, and theirs was both peaceful and happy. But then the true reality of the status of their kingdom settled in around them and chased off those happy, fleeting feelings. And then her fathers dead had weighed heavily on her heart. It still did. Even after ten years of mental and physical preparation for the event, Iris still found herself blindsided.
Numerous feelings that she could not easily place as being caused by one thing or another. Iris had found herself nothing but conflicted in the last days. She worked and she ate and she slept and she drank and she socialized where necessary… but there was no true direction. Not when much of the Kingdom had found themselves in uneasy limbo. Food shortages did not help matters, which left Iris floundering to ensure the province was fed.
But being allowed these moments of calm with Aimias? This was exactly what she had needed when her footsteps had brought her to his back. With his arms around her now, she could almost find herself content. Comfortable. Needing of little else now that her one and only goal of the night had been achieved. Her own fingers wandered up and over his shoulders, and the lady's eyes fluttered closed for a moment. The moment of quiet affection was enough, though the rest of her ached for that continued proximity.
"You have said such things multiple times in the last days," Iris murmured gently, one hand trailing at the nape of his neck. "What wouldn't you do for your new bride, Aimias?" she questioned, almost with a teasing lilt, though she appreciated his level of loyalty more than she would likely admit otherwise. "But just as you would do so many selfless things for me, husband, you must fully understand the lengths I would go for your own happiness."
Pulling her head away a bit, Iris turned her head so that she could rest her forehead against his. She found herself wanting to watch his eyes, her hands having wandered back to his cheeks. Her nails scratched affectionately at his beard. "You cannot be the only one willing to sacrifice time and focus. We both are busy, but let us never forget that we are family now," Iris said quietly, leaning in to press her lips tenderly to Aimias' cheek. Her green gaze searched his blue and Iris wound herself smiling rather affectionately. "You are my family now. Phillipa is my family now. Remember that I am here to lean on when you need it. And that I'm never going to stop chiding you to take care of yourself. You're much too important to me to see you hide away in solitude," she shrugged.
"And this has been my long winded assertion on why you need to take a break and come to bed with me," Iris said honestly. "Is it working?"
Iris could not, no… would not hide the relief she felt when he admitted that he would take a break. Make time for her. Be with her when they had been nothing but apart since the few days after their wedding when the king had died. Weddings were to be happy affairs, and theirs was both peaceful and happy. But then the true reality of the status of their kingdom settled in around them and chased off those happy, fleeting feelings. And then her fathers dead had weighed heavily on her heart. It still did. Even after ten years of mental and physical preparation for the event, Iris still found herself blindsided.
Numerous feelings that she could not easily place as being caused by one thing or another. Iris had found herself nothing but conflicted in the last days. She worked and she ate and she slept and she drank and she socialized where necessary… but there was no true direction. Not when much of the Kingdom had found themselves in uneasy limbo. Food shortages did not help matters, which left Iris floundering to ensure the province was fed.
But being allowed these moments of calm with Aimias? This was exactly what she had needed when her footsteps had brought her to his back. With his arms around her now, she could almost find herself content. Comfortable. Needing of little else now that her one and only goal of the night had been achieved. Her own fingers wandered up and over his shoulders, and the lady's eyes fluttered closed for a moment. The moment of quiet affection was enough, though the rest of her ached for that continued proximity.
"You have said such things multiple times in the last days," Iris murmured gently, one hand trailing at the nape of his neck. "What wouldn't you do for your new bride, Aimias?" she questioned, almost with a teasing lilt, though she appreciated his level of loyalty more than she would likely admit otherwise. "But just as you would do so many selfless things for me, husband, you must fully understand the lengths I would go for your own happiness."
Pulling her head away a bit, Iris turned her head so that she could rest her forehead against his. She found herself wanting to watch his eyes, her hands having wandered back to his cheeks. Her nails scratched affectionately at his beard. "You cannot be the only one willing to sacrifice time and focus. We both are busy, but let us never forget that we are family now," Iris said quietly, leaning in to press her lips tenderly to Aimias' cheek. Her green gaze searched his blue and Iris wound herself smiling rather affectionately. "You are my family now. Phillipa is my family now. Remember that I am here to lean on when you need it. And that I'm never going to stop chiding you to take care of yourself. You're much too important to me to see you hide away in solitude," she shrugged.
"And this has been my long winded assertion on why you need to take a break and come to bed with me," Iris said honestly. "Is it working?"
His eyes were focused on her, trying for once to put everything that had happened to the back of his thoughts to try and bring her to where she should be. Aimias wanted, more than anything, to be able to dedicate the time she needed. He wanted to give her the attention she deserved-- it just felt so impossible to find any joy when the location of the Queen unknown. He had never been good at picking up on cues like the ones she’d been giving to him prior to this.
It helped that she was being upfront about it. She needed to be direct with him like that-- it was how he thrived.
”It would appear that I have much to do if you feel the need to ask that question, wife.” He caught her hand as it moved through his beard, pulling it up to his face to press a kiss to the back of it. ”You have been patient with me, and I am sorry. I have been more than delinquent in my duties to you, sweet Iris.” He smiled, ”And it is working”
He could do this. For her.
Allowing Iris to stand first, he wrapped her arm around his forearm. ”Come, wife. I shall allow you to distract me in whichever way you see fit.” It seemed only right that they head towards their chambers for some privacy. As they walked, he tried not to think about the smell of flowers that seemed to follow her as she walked. Nor did he think of the glow that was in her eye when he had agreed to come to bed. ”I am sorry, darling. I know this is hard for you. I am not trying very hard, am I?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
His eyes were focused on her, trying for once to put everything that had happened to the back of his thoughts to try and bring her to where she should be. Aimias wanted, more than anything, to be able to dedicate the time she needed. He wanted to give her the attention she deserved-- it just felt so impossible to find any joy when the location of the Queen unknown. He had never been good at picking up on cues like the ones she’d been giving to him prior to this.
It helped that she was being upfront about it. She needed to be direct with him like that-- it was how he thrived.
”It would appear that I have much to do if you feel the need to ask that question, wife.” He caught her hand as it moved through his beard, pulling it up to his face to press a kiss to the back of it. ”You have been patient with me, and I am sorry. I have been more than delinquent in my duties to you, sweet Iris.” He smiled, ”And it is working”
He could do this. For her.
Allowing Iris to stand first, he wrapped her arm around his forearm. ”Come, wife. I shall allow you to distract me in whichever way you see fit.” It seemed only right that they head towards their chambers for some privacy. As they walked, he tried not to think about the smell of flowers that seemed to follow her as she walked. Nor did he think of the glow that was in her eye when he had agreed to come to bed. ”I am sorry, darling. I know this is hard for you. I am not trying very hard, am I?”
His eyes were focused on her, trying for once to put everything that had happened to the back of his thoughts to try and bring her to where she should be. Aimias wanted, more than anything, to be able to dedicate the time she needed. He wanted to give her the attention she deserved-- it just felt so impossible to find any joy when the location of the Queen unknown. He had never been good at picking up on cues like the ones she’d been giving to him prior to this.
It helped that she was being upfront about it. She needed to be direct with him like that-- it was how he thrived.
”It would appear that I have much to do if you feel the need to ask that question, wife.” He caught her hand as it moved through his beard, pulling it up to his face to press a kiss to the back of it. ”You have been patient with me, and I am sorry. I have been more than delinquent in my duties to you, sweet Iris.” He smiled, ”And it is working”
He could do this. For her.
Allowing Iris to stand first, he wrapped her arm around his forearm. ”Come, wife. I shall allow you to distract me in whichever way you see fit.” It seemed only right that they head towards their chambers for some privacy. As they walked, he tried not to think about the smell of flowers that seemed to follow her as she walked. Nor did he think of the glow that was in her eye when he had agreed to come to bed. ”I am sorry, darling. I know this is hard for you. I am not trying very hard, am I?”
Iris hated this feeling. This feeling that had already settled on their shoulders, together. The weight of a Kingdom both could do little to aid. With food shortages and angry citizens stalking the streets, things were no longer as safe as they had been, and Iris felt that sharp pang of silent guilt that she would carry with her forever. What if she hadn't put that distance between herself and Elias? Would he have fallen this low still? Would her need for peace and tranquility have won out over his need for power?
If she hadn't, she would not have found Aimias again. The man that she fully considered her first love, and hopefully her last now that they had been brought together once again. Iris could only feel so much guilt when the thought of what Elias was doing to the Kingdom turned her off from those feelings altogether. Elias was making his bed, and past or not, she would not let him ruin all of the work that the previous King, Queen Persephone, and her Aimias had put into ensuring that Athenia remained stable.
Besides, Iris still felt that constant stirring of desire and affection for her new husband. Maybe she had been too young and blind when she was younger to realize just how much she had wanted him then, but that want had extended even years later, ever before, during, and after her small stint courting Elias of Stravos. Aimias had always been at the back of her mind, that reminder that the man who was far better suited to her was the one she had chosen to leave behind.
But now she didn't need to settle with someone who would likely make her unhappy in her own skin. Aimias was more of a man than most others, willing to bear the burden of a Kingdom on his shoulders when there was no monarch and no senate meetings to ensure that anything got done. Despite everything her husband did, he could not keep fighting if he died from fatigue. "You have not been delinquent, Aimias," Iris said very softly, her green gaze softening when he kissed the back of her hand. "You have been working tireless. Delinquent would be ignoring that I existed at all and never entertaining the idea of my wants or needs at all," she continued, smiling up at him as he stood, "Which you have done nothing of the sort."
Looping her arm into his, Iris found herself leaning into his side, her green eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the simple feeling of his warmth. "I have many thoughts of how I wish to distract you, husband," she whispered softly, a smile lighting her lips, "I think the thing I crave most right now is just... your arms around me," Iris murmured, trying to find a round about way of pointing out that she had been exceedingly lonely without actually saying the words themselves.
"We have not found a happy moment since our wedding day. I'd like to try to find one now, even if it doesn't last long. Whatever happens today, tomorrow, in a few weeks or months, I want to be able to look back on these moments of peace and quiet and know that we did not waste them," her tone was soft, encouraging, as they trailed through the halls of their home and toward their chambers. Iris entered first, waiting for Aimias to and then closing the door firmly behind them. Turning more into his arms, then, she settled both hands against his biceps, looking up into his face with a tender smile on her lips. "Can we do that? Can you allow yourself these few moments of calm before whatever storm is awaiting us tomorrow?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Iris hated this feeling. This feeling that had already settled on their shoulders, together. The weight of a Kingdom both could do little to aid. With food shortages and angry citizens stalking the streets, things were no longer as safe as they had been, and Iris felt that sharp pang of silent guilt that she would carry with her forever. What if she hadn't put that distance between herself and Elias? Would he have fallen this low still? Would her need for peace and tranquility have won out over his need for power?
If she hadn't, she would not have found Aimias again. The man that she fully considered her first love, and hopefully her last now that they had been brought together once again. Iris could only feel so much guilt when the thought of what Elias was doing to the Kingdom turned her off from those feelings altogether. Elias was making his bed, and past or not, she would not let him ruin all of the work that the previous King, Queen Persephone, and her Aimias had put into ensuring that Athenia remained stable.
Besides, Iris still felt that constant stirring of desire and affection for her new husband. Maybe she had been too young and blind when she was younger to realize just how much she had wanted him then, but that want had extended even years later, ever before, during, and after her small stint courting Elias of Stravos. Aimias had always been at the back of her mind, that reminder that the man who was far better suited to her was the one she had chosen to leave behind.
But now she didn't need to settle with someone who would likely make her unhappy in her own skin. Aimias was more of a man than most others, willing to bear the burden of a Kingdom on his shoulders when there was no monarch and no senate meetings to ensure that anything got done. Despite everything her husband did, he could not keep fighting if he died from fatigue. "You have not been delinquent, Aimias," Iris said very softly, her green gaze softening when he kissed the back of her hand. "You have been working tireless. Delinquent would be ignoring that I existed at all and never entertaining the idea of my wants or needs at all," she continued, smiling up at him as he stood, "Which you have done nothing of the sort."
Looping her arm into his, Iris found herself leaning into his side, her green eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the simple feeling of his warmth. "I have many thoughts of how I wish to distract you, husband," she whispered softly, a smile lighting her lips, "I think the thing I crave most right now is just... your arms around me," Iris murmured, trying to find a round about way of pointing out that she had been exceedingly lonely without actually saying the words themselves.
"We have not found a happy moment since our wedding day. I'd like to try to find one now, even if it doesn't last long. Whatever happens today, tomorrow, in a few weeks or months, I want to be able to look back on these moments of peace and quiet and know that we did not waste them," her tone was soft, encouraging, as they trailed through the halls of their home and toward their chambers. Iris entered first, waiting for Aimias to and then closing the door firmly behind them. Turning more into his arms, then, she settled both hands against his biceps, looking up into his face with a tender smile on her lips. "Can we do that? Can you allow yourself these few moments of calm before whatever storm is awaiting us tomorrow?"
Iris hated this feeling. This feeling that had already settled on their shoulders, together. The weight of a Kingdom both could do little to aid. With food shortages and angry citizens stalking the streets, things were no longer as safe as they had been, and Iris felt that sharp pang of silent guilt that she would carry with her forever. What if she hadn't put that distance between herself and Elias? Would he have fallen this low still? Would her need for peace and tranquility have won out over his need for power?
If she hadn't, she would not have found Aimias again. The man that she fully considered her first love, and hopefully her last now that they had been brought together once again. Iris could only feel so much guilt when the thought of what Elias was doing to the Kingdom turned her off from those feelings altogether. Elias was making his bed, and past or not, she would not let him ruin all of the work that the previous King, Queen Persephone, and her Aimias had put into ensuring that Athenia remained stable.
Besides, Iris still felt that constant stirring of desire and affection for her new husband. Maybe she had been too young and blind when she was younger to realize just how much she had wanted him then, but that want had extended even years later, ever before, during, and after her small stint courting Elias of Stravos. Aimias had always been at the back of her mind, that reminder that the man who was far better suited to her was the one she had chosen to leave behind.
But now she didn't need to settle with someone who would likely make her unhappy in her own skin. Aimias was more of a man than most others, willing to bear the burden of a Kingdom on his shoulders when there was no monarch and no senate meetings to ensure that anything got done. Despite everything her husband did, he could not keep fighting if he died from fatigue. "You have not been delinquent, Aimias," Iris said very softly, her green gaze softening when he kissed the back of her hand. "You have been working tireless. Delinquent would be ignoring that I existed at all and never entertaining the idea of my wants or needs at all," she continued, smiling up at him as he stood, "Which you have done nothing of the sort."
Looping her arm into his, Iris found herself leaning into his side, her green eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the simple feeling of his warmth. "I have many thoughts of how I wish to distract you, husband," she whispered softly, a smile lighting her lips, "I think the thing I crave most right now is just... your arms around me," Iris murmured, trying to find a round about way of pointing out that she had been exceedingly lonely without actually saying the words themselves.
"We have not found a happy moment since our wedding day. I'd like to try to find one now, even if it doesn't last long. Whatever happens today, tomorrow, in a few weeks or months, I want to be able to look back on these moments of peace and quiet and know that we did not waste them," her tone was soft, encouraging, as they trailed through the halls of their home and toward their chambers. Iris entered first, waiting for Aimias to and then closing the door firmly behind them. Turning more into his arms, then, she settled both hands against his biceps, looking up into his face with a tender smile on her lips. "Can we do that? Can you allow yourself these few moments of calm before whatever storm is awaiting us tomorrow?"
He wanted to be wholly honest with her, to tell her the exact reason he’d been staying away from her. But he couldn’t. There was no way that he could tell her about the threats that Elias had made, not when he dangled their former relationship in front of him. And not when he was working directly against everything Persephone had done to discredit the man who set to ruin the kingdom. It was impossible to sleep beside her, knowing that he was betraying her. Regardless of the reason, he was a coward and she deserved better.
She was a good, strong woman and always had been. Even in youth, her determination to learn everything she could was impressive. They had constantly challenged each other intellectually, but Aimias hadn’t been so naive to think that he stood a chance with her. He was common born with no title, money or power. And she was noble-- everything he was not.
But now they were married, and she had made it very clear that they were equals in this. He now carried a title, now had money of his own that he never had before. There was no reason for him to feel as if he was still less. But Elias had sewed the seeds of doubt in his mind, and with the looming threat of the destruction of everyone he cared about, he didn’t think he could view her as his equal. In this moment, she was too good for him.
Selfishly, he needed a soft place to fall. Was it so wrong that he was willing to allow her to do that for him, even though he knew she deserved better than him?
He was quiet as they walked back to their room, allowing her to speak freely of her wishes and desires. And it was then that he decided to give himself a moment of happiness. Even if the marriage felt like he was burdening her with his inability, Aimias cared for her. He always had, and now that she was his, he wanted to be able to forget about everything and just be with her.
Just be Aimias and Iris-- husband and wife. No titles. No responsibility but to the other. He craved that simplicity down to his very core.
She placed herself in front of him, and he smiled through his exhaustion. ”Within these walls, nothing else shall exist.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, toying with the small bauble that dangled from it before resting his hand against her cheek. ”I can do as you ask, wife. If you can forgive the fact that I have made this household less than happy.” Another wave of guilt washed over him, further proving just how much he didn’t deserve her. But he couldn’t deny his desire for her, couldn’t ignore how much he did want her.
His hand shifted down to her chin, pulling her face up to his so that he could lean in and press a kiss to her lips. Affection between them had been so fleeting, he’d almost forgotten how nice it was to slow down and appreciate her. He was unrushed in his kiss, his other arm moving to her waist to pull her into him, removing the distance that had been there only moments before.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
He wanted to be wholly honest with her, to tell her the exact reason he’d been staying away from her. But he couldn’t. There was no way that he could tell her about the threats that Elias had made, not when he dangled their former relationship in front of him. And not when he was working directly against everything Persephone had done to discredit the man who set to ruin the kingdom. It was impossible to sleep beside her, knowing that he was betraying her. Regardless of the reason, he was a coward and she deserved better.
She was a good, strong woman and always had been. Even in youth, her determination to learn everything she could was impressive. They had constantly challenged each other intellectually, but Aimias hadn’t been so naive to think that he stood a chance with her. He was common born with no title, money or power. And she was noble-- everything he was not.
But now they were married, and she had made it very clear that they were equals in this. He now carried a title, now had money of his own that he never had before. There was no reason for him to feel as if he was still less. But Elias had sewed the seeds of doubt in his mind, and with the looming threat of the destruction of everyone he cared about, he didn’t think he could view her as his equal. In this moment, she was too good for him.
Selfishly, he needed a soft place to fall. Was it so wrong that he was willing to allow her to do that for him, even though he knew she deserved better than him?
He was quiet as they walked back to their room, allowing her to speak freely of her wishes and desires. And it was then that he decided to give himself a moment of happiness. Even if the marriage felt like he was burdening her with his inability, Aimias cared for her. He always had, and now that she was his, he wanted to be able to forget about everything and just be with her.
Just be Aimias and Iris-- husband and wife. No titles. No responsibility but to the other. He craved that simplicity down to his very core.
She placed herself in front of him, and he smiled through his exhaustion. ”Within these walls, nothing else shall exist.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, toying with the small bauble that dangled from it before resting his hand against her cheek. ”I can do as you ask, wife. If you can forgive the fact that I have made this household less than happy.” Another wave of guilt washed over him, further proving just how much he didn’t deserve her. But he couldn’t deny his desire for her, couldn’t ignore how much he did want her.
His hand shifted down to her chin, pulling her face up to his so that he could lean in and press a kiss to her lips. Affection between them had been so fleeting, he’d almost forgotten how nice it was to slow down and appreciate her. He was unrushed in his kiss, his other arm moving to her waist to pull her into him, removing the distance that had been there only moments before.
He wanted to be wholly honest with her, to tell her the exact reason he’d been staying away from her. But he couldn’t. There was no way that he could tell her about the threats that Elias had made, not when he dangled their former relationship in front of him. And not when he was working directly against everything Persephone had done to discredit the man who set to ruin the kingdom. It was impossible to sleep beside her, knowing that he was betraying her. Regardless of the reason, he was a coward and she deserved better.
She was a good, strong woman and always had been. Even in youth, her determination to learn everything she could was impressive. They had constantly challenged each other intellectually, but Aimias hadn’t been so naive to think that he stood a chance with her. He was common born with no title, money or power. And she was noble-- everything he was not.
But now they were married, and she had made it very clear that they were equals in this. He now carried a title, now had money of his own that he never had before. There was no reason for him to feel as if he was still less. But Elias had sewed the seeds of doubt in his mind, and with the looming threat of the destruction of everyone he cared about, he didn’t think he could view her as his equal. In this moment, she was too good for him.
Selfishly, he needed a soft place to fall. Was it so wrong that he was willing to allow her to do that for him, even though he knew she deserved better than him?
He was quiet as they walked back to their room, allowing her to speak freely of her wishes and desires. And it was then that he decided to give himself a moment of happiness. Even if the marriage felt like he was burdening her with his inability, Aimias cared for her. He always had, and now that she was his, he wanted to be able to forget about everything and just be with her.
Just be Aimias and Iris-- husband and wife. No titles. No responsibility but to the other. He craved that simplicity down to his very core.
She placed herself in front of him, and he smiled through his exhaustion. ”Within these walls, nothing else shall exist.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, toying with the small bauble that dangled from it before resting his hand against her cheek. ”I can do as you ask, wife. If you can forgive the fact that I have made this household less than happy.” Another wave of guilt washed over him, further proving just how much he didn’t deserve her. But he couldn’t deny his desire for her, couldn’t ignore how much he did want her.
His hand shifted down to her chin, pulling her face up to his so that he could lean in and press a kiss to her lips. Affection between them had been so fleeting, he’d almost forgotten how nice it was to slow down and appreciate her. He was unrushed in his kiss, his other arm moving to her waist to pull her into him, removing the distance that had been there only moments before.
She was so unaware of what was truly going on in his mind that she wasn't confident that she could bring him peace. Even though it was something she wanted, how could she bring him to ease if he would not speak of what was truly bothering him? She was sure that the work was not as straining as she had assumed. These were tasks that Aimias had done even when King Minas was alive. What was so different now that Emilia sat alone with a crown too heavy for her small form? What was different now that Elias also stood at her side?
Iris had to shove away any thought of Elias, needing to be here and present. With her husband. The first and last man she would love, she was sure. Her love for Elias had been just as true, but those feelings had long been buried with each observation of how far he had fallen since they had parted from one another. Aimias had always been her consideration, even while she had lain with another, and she should have guilt about it.
But the man who held her arm, who walked beside her with solemn exhaustion while simultaneously trying to please her... this was the man that had always been her one. No one would ever compare to finally having the one man she had always wanted above all others. He had no money or titles of his own, but he was her's now. Aimias was her's and no one could take that away from her. They had been married under the assumption that it was a good political match for both of them. But truth be told, Iris had accepted Aimias' proposal out of selfishness. The selfish need to have what she had once squandered and left behind in such a show of cruelty that even she had found herself ashamed.
He was not ready to hear of the love she still held for him, so she would not speak it. Affection and love were two separate emotions. One could hold affection without feeling love, and this was what Iris wanted to ensure happened. To burden him with her feelings when he was already under such blatant duress would earn her no favor, she felt. Besides, how did you admit to someone that you had loved them for ten years when they had found someone else and started a family with that person in the time apart? It would only breed guilt, and Aimias needed less of that.
But the wanting. Oh, the wanting. That never ceased. Not even when both of them were exhausted, dead to the bone from their work. He had been keeping his distance, not sleeping beside her, or only coming to bed when she was rising for the morning. It had only increased that want of him. The want for the closeness they had been lacking even after their marriage had been solidified. So the assertion that she had his full attention was enough to trail that wanting fire down her spine. Nothing else mattered, not even forgiving him for something that he had not done.
Iris relented, however, "I forgive you, though I can't fathom what you are actually wanting me to forgive. You have done nothing to make this home unhappy, Aimias," Iris repeated for what felt like the millionth time that night. "I am not unhappy," she paused, thinking through her words, "I am melancholy. My father has passed and my husband has become a specter. I am sad for whatever it is that has kept you so far from my touch simply because I am selfish. Selfish and wanting of affection where there has been little," she said gently, her brows furrowing to show her own spot of guilt.
"Can you forgive me?" she questioned, leaning into his touch against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed against the warmth of his hand, her own reaching up to trail her fingers against the back of his hand. The slight movement of his hand to her chin had her breath catching in her chest, a soft, barely-there sound escaping her throat when his lips brushed hers. His arm wound her waist to close the distance and her hands trailed up his chest and over his shoulders, her own kiss slow and appreciative of the sudden loss of distance.
This felt better than she had expected. The tentativeness of their affections was something to be explored. Pulling back just slightly after the first kiss, Iris smiled warmly, resting her forehead against his, having to stand a little on tip-toes to do so. Biting her own bottom lip, she glanced back at his lips. "Kiss me again," she whispered the soft plea, "Please."
Even in moments like this, it was still proper to be polite.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
She was so unaware of what was truly going on in his mind that she wasn't confident that she could bring him peace. Even though it was something she wanted, how could she bring him to ease if he would not speak of what was truly bothering him? She was sure that the work was not as straining as she had assumed. These were tasks that Aimias had done even when King Minas was alive. What was so different now that Emilia sat alone with a crown too heavy for her small form? What was different now that Elias also stood at her side?
Iris had to shove away any thought of Elias, needing to be here and present. With her husband. The first and last man she would love, she was sure. Her love for Elias had been just as true, but those feelings had long been buried with each observation of how far he had fallen since they had parted from one another. Aimias had always been her consideration, even while she had lain with another, and she should have guilt about it.
But the man who held her arm, who walked beside her with solemn exhaustion while simultaneously trying to please her... this was the man that had always been her one. No one would ever compare to finally having the one man she had always wanted above all others. He had no money or titles of his own, but he was her's now. Aimias was her's and no one could take that away from her. They had been married under the assumption that it was a good political match for both of them. But truth be told, Iris had accepted Aimias' proposal out of selfishness. The selfish need to have what she had once squandered and left behind in such a show of cruelty that even she had found herself ashamed.
He was not ready to hear of the love she still held for him, so she would not speak it. Affection and love were two separate emotions. One could hold affection without feeling love, and this was what Iris wanted to ensure happened. To burden him with her feelings when he was already under such blatant duress would earn her no favor, she felt. Besides, how did you admit to someone that you had loved them for ten years when they had found someone else and started a family with that person in the time apart? It would only breed guilt, and Aimias needed less of that.
But the wanting. Oh, the wanting. That never ceased. Not even when both of them were exhausted, dead to the bone from their work. He had been keeping his distance, not sleeping beside her, or only coming to bed when she was rising for the morning. It had only increased that want of him. The want for the closeness they had been lacking even after their marriage had been solidified. So the assertion that she had his full attention was enough to trail that wanting fire down her spine. Nothing else mattered, not even forgiving him for something that he had not done.
Iris relented, however, "I forgive you, though I can't fathom what you are actually wanting me to forgive. You have done nothing to make this home unhappy, Aimias," Iris repeated for what felt like the millionth time that night. "I am not unhappy," she paused, thinking through her words, "I am melancholy. My father has passed and my husband has become a specter. I am sad for whatever it is that has kept you so far from my touch simply because I am selfish. Selfish and wanting of affection where there has been little," she said gently, her brows furrowing to show her own spot of guilt.
"Can you forgive me?" she questioned, leaning into his touch against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed against the warmth of his hand, her own reaching up to trail her fingers against the back of his hand. The slight movement of his hand to her chin had her breath catching in her chest, a soft, barely-there sound escaping her throat when his lips brushed hers. His arm wound her waist to close the distance and her hands trailed up his chest and over his shoulders, her own kiss slow and appreciative of the sudden loss of distance.
This felt better than she had expected. The tentativeness of their affections was something to be explored. Pulling back just slightly after the first kiss, Iris smiled warmly, resting her forehead against his, having to stand a little on tip-toes to do so. Biting her own bottom lip, she glanced back at his lips. "Kiss me again," she whispered the soft plea, "Please."
Even in moments like this, it was still proper to be polite.
She was so unaware of what was truly going on in his mind that she wasn't confident that she could bring him peace. Even though it was something she wanted, how could she bring him to ease if he would not speak of what was truly bothering him? She was sure that the work was not as straining as she had assumed. These were tasks that Aimias had done even when King Minas was alive. What was so different now that Emilia sat alone with a crown too heavy for her small form? What was different now that Elias also stood at her side?
Iris had to shove away any thought of Elias, needing to be here and present. With her husband. The first and last man she would love, she was sure. Her love for Elias had been just as true, but those feelings had long been buried with each observation of how far he had fallen since they had parted from one another. Aimias had always been her consideration, even while she had lain with another, and she should have guilt about it.
But the man who held her arm, who walked beside her with solemn exhaustion while simultaneously trying to please her... this was the man that had always been her one. No one would ever compare to finally having the one man she had always wanted above all others. He had no money or titles of his own, but he was her's now. Aimias was her's and no one could take that away from her. They had been married under the assumption that it was a good political match for both of them. But truth be told, Iris had accepted Aimias' proposal out of selfishness. The selfish need to have what she had once squandered and left behind in such a show of cruelty that even she had found herself ashamed.
He was not ready to hear of the love she still held for him, so she would not speak it. Affection and love were two separate emotions. One could hold affection without feeling love, and this was what Iris wanted to ensure happened. To burden him with her feelings when he was already under such blatant duress would earn her no favor, she felt. Besides, how did you admit to someone that you had loved them for ten years when they had found someone else and started a family with that person in the time apart? It would only breed guilt, and Aimias needed less of that.
But the wanting. Oh, the wanting. That never ceased. Not even when both of them were exhausted, dead to the bone from their work. He had been keeping his distance, not sleeping beside her, or only coming to bed when she was rising for the morning. It had only increased that want of him. The want for the closeness they had been lacking even after their marriage had been solidified. So the assertion that she had his full attention was enough to trail that wanting fire down her spine. Nothing else mattered, not even forgiving him for something that he had not done.
Iris relented, however, "I forgive you, though I can't fathom what you are actually wanting me to forgive. You have done nothing to make this home unhappy, Aimias," Iris repeated for what felt like the millionth time that night. "I am not unhappy," she paused, thinking through her words, "I am melancholy. My father has passed and my husband has become a specter. I am sad for whatever it is that has kept you so far from my touch simply because I am selfish. Selfish and wanting of affection where there has been little," she said gently, her brows furrowing to show her own spot of guilt.
"Can you forgive me?" she questioned, leaning into his touch against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed against the warmth of his hand, her own reaching up to trail her fingers against the back of his hand. The slight movement of his hand to her chin had her breath catching in her chest, a soft, barely-there sound escaping her throat when his lips brushed hers. His arm wound her waist to close the distance and her hands trailed up his chest and over his shoulders, her own kiss slow and appreciative of the sudden loss of distance.
This felt better than she had expected. The tentativeness of their affections was something to be explored. Pulling back just slightly after the first kiss, Iris smiled warmly, resting her forehead against his, having to stand a little on tip-toes to do so. Biting her own bottom lip, she glanced back at his lips. "Kiss me again," she whispered the soft plea, "Please."
Even in moments like this, it was still proper to be polite.
There had been a time where he barely knew the want of a woman. His wife had caught him by surprise, and then had died on him. His grief had been so consuming for so long that he thought he’d all but forgotten what it was like to want a woman. He hadn’t had much time for missing a woman, and her hadn’t ever thought of needing one sexually. So it was simple for him to function without it, to try and continue on without that connection.
Iris had all but blindsided him again. He hadn’t realized that the emotions he’d carried for her all those years ago still burned like a half lit fire, just needing a bit of fuel to rage again. He had always thought that he would never be able to marry her. Her title and his poverty had always made that out to be fact. If he’d been asked years ago if he thought he would be her husband, the man would have laughed out right. But standing here with her, so close, he felt the desire swell within him once more.
He could compartmentalize his own struggles. She didn’t need to know what he was doing to his own reputation. She didn’t need to know that Elias had threatened to harm her if he didn’t obey. Right now, what she needed was him. And he was a bit surprised by his own need for her. Wanting her made everything more complicated, for it would have been so much easier if it had truly been a match of political gain. Instead, he found himself knowing that he would have to beg her forgiveness once she knew the truth. But for now, he would enjoy her, as there would most likely be little time to do so in the near future.
Aimias didn’t realize how cold he was until she was against him, warm and willing. How she could stand to be this close to him was a mystery to him, but as his lips met hers, he stopped trying to figure it out. Instead, he said nothing and kissed her again. But this kiss was more than the former. He decided then and there to consume her. If she was melancholy, he would go out of his way to bring up her spirits. And if she wanted him in this moment, then he would give her that.
He slowly spun her around so that her back was to the door, pressed up against it to give them both leverage of solid material. His lips never left hers, not until he was a bit out of breath. Resting his forehead against her, he offered a shy smile. ”There is nothing to forgive, Iris.” He just hoped that she would be able to forgive him when the truth came out. ”What else do you wish of me, wife? I am your servant.”
And for good measure, he kissed her again.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
There had been a time where he barely knew the want of a woman. His wife had caught him by surprise, and then had died on him. His grief had been so consuming for so long that he thought he’d all but forgotten what it was like to want a woman. He hadn’t had much time for missing a woman, and her hadn’t ever thought of needing one sexually. So it was simple for him to function without it, to try and continue on without that connection.
Iris had all but blindsided him again. He hadn’t realized that the emotions he’d carried for her all those years ago still burned like a half lit fire, just needing a bit of fuel to rage again. He had always thought that he would never be able to marry her. Her title and his poverty had always made that out to be fact. If he’d been asked years ago if he thought he would be her husband, the man would have laughed out right. But standing here with her, so close, he felt the desire swell within him once more.
He could compartmentalize his own struggles. She didn’t need to know what he was doing to his own reputation. She didn’t need to know that Elias had threatened to harm her if he didn’t obey. Right now, what she needed was him. And he was a bit surprised by his own need for her. Wanting her made everything more complicated, for it would have been so much easier if it had truly been a match of political gain. Instead, he found himself knowing that he would have to beg her forgiveness once she knew the truth. But for now, he would enjoy her, as there would most likely be little time to do so in the near future.
Aimias didn’t realize how cold he was until she was against him, warm and willing. How she could stand to be this close to him was a mystery to him, but as his lips met hers, he stopped trying to figure it out. Instead, he said nothing and kissed her again. But this kiss was more than the former. He decided then and there to consume her. If she was melancholy, he would go out of his way to bring up her spirits. And if she wanted him in this moment, then he would give her that.
He slowly spun her around so that her back was to the door, pressed up against it to give them both leverage of solid material. His lips never left hers, not until he was a bit out of breath. Resting his forehead against her, he offered a shy smile. ”There is nothing to forgive, Iris.” He just hoped that she would be able to forgive him when the truth came out. ”What else do you wish of me, wife? I am your servant.”
And for good measure, he kissed her again.
There had been a time where he barely knew the want of a woman. His wife had caught him by surprise, and then had died on him. His grief had been so consuming for so long that he thought he’d all but forgotten what it was like to want a woman. He hadn’t had much time for missing a woman, and her hadn’t ever thought of needing one sexually. So it was simple for him to function without it, to try and continue on without that connection.
Iris had all but blindsided him again. He hadn’t realized that the emotions he’d carried for her all those years ago still burned like a half lit fire, just needing a bit of fuel to rage again. He had always thought that he would never be able to marry her. Her title and his poverty had always made that out to be fact. If he’d been asked years ago if he thought he would be her husband, the man would have laughed out right. But standing here with her, so close, he felt the desire swell within him once more.
He could compartmentalize his own struggles. She didn’t need to know what he was doing to his own reputation. She didn’t need to know that Elias had threatened to harm her if he didn’t obey. Right now, what she needed was him. And he was a bit surprised by his own need for her. Wanting her made everything more complicated, for it would have been so much easier if it had truly been a match of political gain. Instead, he found himself knowing that he would have to beg her forgiveness once she knew the truth. But for now, he would enjoy her, as there would most likely be little time to do so in the near future.
Aimias didn’t realize how cold he was until she was against him, warm and willing. How she could stand to be this close to him was a mystery to him, but as his lips met hers, he stopped trying to figure it out. Instead, he said nothing and kissed her again. But this kiss was more than the former. He decided then and there to consume her. If she was melancholy, he would go out of his way to bring up her spirits. And if she wanted him in this moment, then he would give her that.
He slowly spun her around so that her back was to the door, pressed up against it to give them both leverage of solid material. His lips never left hers, not until he was a bit out of breath. Resting his forehead against her, he offered a shy smile. ”There is nothing to forgive, Iris.” He just hoped that she would be able to forgive him when the truth came out. ”What else do you wish of me, wife? I am your servant.”
And for good measure, he kissed her again.
When Iris had married Aimias, she hadn't been thinking about all of the things she would also be giving him that he had never had on his own. She hadn't truly thought about what it might be like for him to have a title and more money than he had likely ever even seen in his life. She hadn't been thinking about the fact that Aimias would immediately be afforded more opportunities and privliges than ever before. No, she had been thinking about their agreement, and, selfishly, her own feelings for the man that now warmed the other side of her bed. At least when he could stand to do so and wasn't worried about whatever it was that had taken over his mind these last weeks. It was hard not to admit that she had grown used to laying beside another person.
Her past encounters with men mostly ended with them rushing to get out of her rooms before they were caught. Or her kicking them out promptly after they had given her what she wanted. There was only one true exception and Iris was not going to think of him now. Not when the true love of her life stood before her, holding her in the way that he should have been all along. His hands were warm on her body and she couldn't help but bask in the closeness of his body to her own. Weeks, even months ago, she would never have expected to rekindle what she had lost them so long ago.
In her inexperience and fear for her father, she had left behind a man that could have truly made that ten years under pressure and expectation so much easier. Iris was not keen on wishing that she had made different decisions in her life, especially because if she had, they would not have Phillipa to look after. Iris adored her step-daughter beyond words, and she found it hard to wish that a dead woman had never snagged his heart at all. Iris was simply glad for his presence and affection now.
Especially when his lips met hers with a fervor that she was quite unused to. How long had it been? She never usually counted, but being unable to lay with her husband for a few days, let alone weeks, was a form of torture that she had never expected to endure. With him, her husband, her Aimias, it was not seen as improper to lay with him the way that it would be to lay with a soldier or someone she was not married to. If she'd had her way, if the world had not trodden them both so far down against the dirt, she would have enticed him to bed with her night after night. Once, she had dreamed of what Aimias might feel like against her, but now she knew. With each kiss they shared, she was inclined further and further toward bliss and intimacy.
Iris' back hit the door and her breath caught in her throat. Her arms found themselves winding around his shoulders, able to use the solid leverage against her back to bring him closer to her. Aimias' kisses were more than welcomed, and Iris quietly relished in them, finally able to catch her own breath when he broke the kiss and rest his forehead against her own. She found her green eyes searching his, her heart fluttering in her chest at the shy smile on his lips. Her hands slid down from his shoulders and along his chest as he spoke, her mind already drifting in another direction. Returning his smile, she brushed her lips slowly against his when he asked her what else she wanted of him.
Before he could kiss her again, she whispered her want outloud. "I want you to make love to me," Iris breathed, a soft keening noise escaping her lips when he finally did kiss her. She was all fire and want, and her fingers silently played at the cord of his chiton, wondering if he would give into her or if he would opt not to have her in the way that she wanted him. Pressing back against him, Iris slowly walked her husband backward toward their shared bed, her hands pressed firmly against his abdomen and her lips never leaving his. She walked them back until he had to sit on the edge of their bed, remaining standing so that she could have the leverage of similar height.
Reaching both hands up to caress his jaw, Iris smiled slowly, sweetly. "I don't want you to be my servant. I want you to be my partner, my lover, my friend, Aimias," she whispered sweetly, giving his lips another short peck, and then another. "And I want to be yours."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
When Iris had married Aimias, she hadn't been thinking about all of the things she would also be giving him that he had never had on his own. She hadn't truly thought about what it might be like for him to have a title and more money than he had likely ever even seen in his life. She hadn't been thinking about the fact that Aimias would immediately be afforded more opportunities and privliges than ever before. No, she had been thinking about their agreement, and, selfishly, her own feelings for the man that now warmed the other side of her bed. At least when he could stand to do so and wasn't worried about whatever it was that had taken over his mind these last weeks. It was hard not to admit that she had grown used to laying beside another person.
Her past encounters with men mostly ended with them rushing to get out of her rooms before they were caught. Or her kicking them out promptly after they had given her what she wanted. There was only one true exception and Iris was not going to think of him now. Not when the true love of her life stood before her, holding her in the way that he should have been all along. His hands were warm on her body and she couldn't help but bask in the closeness of his body to her own. Weeks, even months ago, she would never have expected to rekindle what she had lost them so long ago.
In her inexperience and fear for her father, she had left behind a man that could have truly made that ten years under pressure and expectation so much easier. Iris was not keen on wishing that she had made different decisions in her life, especially because if she had, they would not have Phillipa to look after. Iris adored her step-daughter beyond words, and she found it hard to wish that a dead woman had never snagged his heart at all. Iris was simply glad for his presence and affection now.
Especially when his lips met hers with a fervor that she was quite unused to. How long had it been? She never usually counted, but being unable to lay with her husband for a few days, let alone weeks, was a form of torture that she had never expected to endure. With him, her husband, her Aimias, it was not seen as improper to lay with him the way that it would be to lay with a soldier or someone she was not married to. If she'd had her way, if the world had not trodden them both so far down against the dirt, she would have enticed him to bed with her night after night. Once, she had dreamed of what Aimias might feel like against her, but now she knew. With each kiss they shared, she was inclined further and further toward bliss and intimacy.
Iris' back hit the door and her breath caught in her throat. Her arms found themselves winding around his shoulders, able to use the solid leverage against her back to bring him closer to her. Aimias' kisses were more than welcomed, and Iris quietly relished in them, finally able to catch her own breath when he broke the kiss and rest his forehead against her own. She found her green eyes searching his, her heart fluttering in her chest at the shy smile on his lips. Her hands slid down from his shoulders and along his chest as he spoke, her mind already drifting in another direction. Returning his smile, she brushed her lips slowly against his when he asked her what else she wanted of him.
Before he could kiss her again, she whispered her want outloud. "I want you to make love to me," Iris breathed, a soft keening noise escaping her lips when he finally did kiss her. She was all fire and want, and her fingers silently played at the cord of his chiton, wondering if he would give into her or if he would opt not to have her in the way that she wanted him. Pressing back against him, Iris slowly walked her husband backward toward their shared bed, her hands pressed firmly against his abdomen and her lips never leaving his. She walked them back until he had to sit on the edge of their bed, remaining standing so that she could have the leverage of similar height.
Reaching both hands up to caress his jaw, Iris smiled slowly, sweetly. "I don't want you to be my servant. I want you to be my partner, my lover, my friend, Aimias," she whispered sweetly, giving his lips another short peck, and then another. "And I want to be yours."
When Iris had married Aimias, she hadn't been thinking about all of the things she would also be giving him that he had never had on his own. She hadn't truly thought about what it might be like for him to have a title and more money than he had likely ever even seen in his life. She hadn't been thinking about the fact that Aimias would immediately be afforded more opportunities and privliges than ever before. No, she had been thinking about their agreement, and, selfishly, her own feelings for the man that now warmed the other side of her bed. At least when he could stand to do so and wasn't worried about whatever it was that had taken over his mind these last weeks. It was hard not to admit that she had grown used to laying beside another person.
Her past encounters with men mostly ended with them rushing to get out of her rooms before they were caught. Or her kicking them out promptly after they had given her what she wanted. There was only one true exception and Iris was not going to think of him now. Not when the true love of her life stood before her, holding her in the way that he should have been all along. His hands were warm on her body and she couldn't help but bask in the closeness of his body to her own. Weeks, even months ago, she would never have expected to rekindle what she had lost them so long ago.
In her inexperience and fear for her father, she had left behind a man that could have truly made that ten years under pressure and expectation so much easier. Iris was not keen on wishing that she had made different decisions in her life, especially because if she had, they would not have Phillipa to look after. Iris adored her step-daughter beyond words, and she found it hard to wish that a dead woman had never snagged his heart at all. Iris was simply glad for his presence and affection now.
Especially when his lips met hers with a fervor that she was quite unused to. How long had it been? She never usually counted, but being unable to lay with her husband for a few days, let alone weeks, was a form of torture that she had never expected to endure. With him, her husband, her Aimias, it was not seen as improper to lay with him the way that it would be to lay with a soldier or someone she was not married to. If she'd had her way, if the world had not trodden them both so far down against the dirt, she would have enticed him to bed with her night after night. Once, she had dreamed of what Aimias might feel like against her, but now she knew. With each kiss they shared, she was inclined further and further toward bliss and intimacy.
Iris' back hit the door and her breath caught in her throat. Her arms found themselves winding around his shoulders, able to use the solid leverage against her back to bring him closer to her. Aimias' kisses were more than welcomed, and Iris quietly relished in them, finally able to catch her own breath when he broke the kiss and rest his forehead against her own. She found her green eyes searching his, her heart fluttering in her chest at the shy smile on his lips. Her hands slid down from his shoulders and along his chest as he spoke, her mind already drifting in another direction. Returning his smile, she brushed her lips slowly against his when he asked her what else she wanted of him.
Before he could kiss her again, she whispered her want outloud. "I want you to make love to me," Iris breathed, a soft keening noise escaping her lips when he finally did kiss her. She was all fire and want, and her fingers silently played at the cord of his chiton, wondering if he would give into her or if he would opt not to have her in the way that she wanted him. Pressing back against him, Iris slowly walked her husband backward toward their shared bed, her hands pressed firmly against his abdomen and her lips never leaving his. She walked them back until he had to sit on the edge of their bed, remaining standing so that she could have the leverage of similar height.
Reaching both hands up to caress his jaw, Iris smiled slowly, sweetly. "I don't want you to be my servant. I want you to be my partner, my lover, my friend, Aimias," she whispered sweetly, giving his lips another short peck, and then another. "And I want to be yours."
Aimias had loved before. There was no hiding that from his wife. She knew of his past marriage, of the fact that it was a love match was not a secret. He hadn’t considered marrying anyone after Iris, but Phillipa had caught him off guard, much like Iris had. And it was in it before he’d known it begun, unable to do much else but be swept into her arms. He had spent two years with her blissfully happy. And then, just like that, she was gone. He hadn’t hoped for another marriage.
The Gods had not been so kind to him in the past. Why would they have now?
And then, Iris was back in his life, and just like that, he found himself swept up by another woman who left him breathless at the mere sight of her. Aimias had all but forgotten what life was like prior to her coming back into it. Lonely. Dark. Life had been going nowhere, except for the direction that Xanthos took him. All of the sudden, she was there. And he did not know what her plan was in all of this. But he was grateful that she seemed to want him, in whatever way she would have him.
And now, it seemed she wanted him to lay beside her.
He had no complaints on that front. She was beautiful and so far above his station that he was certain he didn’t deserve her. Elias had been right on that account-- he would never be good enough for her. And yet, he didn’t seem to care at the moment. Even if that were the case, they shared a name. He was hers, and she his. And in this moment, that seemed to be all that mattered. And he laid claim to her lips again and again, making it known to her that he wished to be no other place than in her arms.
Aimias wanted not to worry of the world. It would continue on in his absence, at least for the night. He wanted to put all his fears and doubts aside and focus on the dark haired seductress who asked him simply to do his duty as her spouse. And who was he to disobey his lady?
Settling against the bed, his hands were on her hips. He needed against the skin, the material of her chiton slowly inching its way up into his fists. ”Let no one suggest I am not obedient” His voice was thick in his throat, blue eyes deepening with his desire. It was never that he didn’t want her, and he was determined to show her exactly that. Pulling her into him, pressing thighs together, he hoped that the hardness against her leg was enough for her to realize that he was not immune to her.
Even though he may not do his best showing his emotions, he was still a man. And she was a beautiful woman, warm and willing in his arms. ”You are mine.” He said, suddenly feeling the need to remind her. ”Now and always.” He pulled her face down for a deep kiss, his tongue determined to process her, to make her think of nothing else. Not her misfortunate marriage, not their lack of communication. Aimias suddenly felt the need to prove to her that no one else had ever existed for her. Gently biting her lower lip, his hands shifted to her rear, begging her closer. ”And I am yours.” He pleaded, hoping the certainty in his voice was enough to prove that to her.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Aimias had loved before. There was no hiding that from his wife. She knew of his past marriage, of the fact that it was a love match was not a secret. He hadn’t considered marrying anyone after Iris, but Phillipa had caught him off guard, much like Iris had. And it was in it before he’d known it begun, unable to do much else but be swept into her arms. He had spent two years with her blissfully happy. And then, just like that, she was gone. He hadn’t hoped for another marriage.
The Gods had not been so kind to him in the past. Why would they have now?
And then, Iris was back in his life, and just like that, he found himself swept up by another woman who left him breathless at the mere sight of her. Aimias had all but forgotten what life was like prior to her coming back into it. Lonely. Dark. Life had been going nowhere, except for the direction that Xanthos took him. All of the sudden, she was there. And he did not know what her plan was in all of this. But he was grateful that she seemed to want him, in whatever way she would have him.
And now, it seemed she wanted him to lay beside her.
He had no complaints on that front. She was beautiful and so far above his station that he was certain he didn’t deserve her. Elias had been right on that account-- he would never be good enough for her. And yet, he didn’t seem to care at the moment. Even if that were the case, they shared a name. He was hers, and she his. And in this moment, that seemed to be all that mattered. And he laid claim to her lips again and again, making it known to her that he wished to be no other place than in her arms.
Aimias wanted not to worry of the world. It would continue on in his absence, at least for the night. He wanted to put all his fears and doubts aside and focus on the dark haired seductress who asked him simply to do his duty as her spouse. And who was he to disobey his lady?
Settling against the bed, his hands were on her hips. He needed against the skin, the material of her chiton slowly inching its way up into his fists. ”Let no one suggest I am not obedient” His voice was thick in his throat, blue eyes deepening with his desire. It was never that he didn’t want her, and he was determined to show her exactly that. Pulling her into him, pressing thighs together, he hoped that the hardness against her leg was enough for her to realize that he was not immune to her.
Even though he may not do his best showing his emotions, he was still a man. And she was a beautiful woman, warm and willing in his arms. ”You are mine.” He said, suddenly feeling the need to remind her. ”Now and always.” He pulled her face down for a deep kiss, his tongue determined to process her, to make her think of nothing else. Not her misfortunate marriage, not their lack of communication. Aimias suddenly felt the need to prove to her that no one else had ever existed for her. Gently biting her lower lip, his hands shifted to her rear, begging her closer. ”And I am yours.” He pleaded, hoping the certainty in his voice was enough to prove that to her.
Aimias had loved before. There was no hiding that from his wife. She knew of his past marriage, of the fact that it was a love match was not a secret. He hadn’t considered marrying anyone after Iris, but Phillipa had caught him off guard, much like Iris had. And it was in it before he’d known it begun, unable to do much else but be swept into her arms. He had spent two years with her blissfully happy. And then, just like that, she was gone. He hadn’t hoped for another marriage.
The Gods had not been so kind to him in the past. Why would they have now?
And then, Iris was back in his life, and just like that, he found himself swept up by another woman who left him breathless at the mere sight of her. Aimias had all but forgotten what life was like prior to her coming back into it. Lonely. Dark. Life had been going nowhere, except for the direction that Xanthos took him. All of the sudden, she was there. And he did not know what her plan was in all of this. But he was grateful that she seemed to want him, in whatever way she would have him.
And now, it seemed she wanted him to lay beside her.
He had no complaints on that front. She was beautiful and so far above his station that he was certain he didn’t deserve her. Elias had been right on that account-- he would never be good enough for her. And yet, he didn’t seem to care at the moment. Even if that were the case, they shared a name. He was hers, and she his. And in this moment, that seemed to be all that mattered. And he laid claim to her lips again and again, making it known to her that he wished to be no other place than in her arms.
Aimias wanted not to worry of the world. It would continue on in his absence, at least for the night. He wanted to put all his fears and doubts aside and focus on the dark haired seductress who asked him simply to do his duty as her spouse. And who was he to disobey his lady?
Settling against the bed, his hands were on her hips. He needed against the skin, the material of her chiton slowly inching its way up into his fists. ”Let no one suggest I am not obedient” His voice was thick in his throat, blue eyes deepening with his desire. It was never that he didn’t want her, and he was determined to show her exactly that. Pulling her into him, pressing thighs together, he hoped that the hardness against her leg was enough for her to realize that he was not immune to her.
Even though he may not do his best showing his emotions, he was still a man. And she was a beautiful woman, warm and willing in his arms. ”You are mine.” He said, suddenly feeling the need to remind her. ”Now and always.” He pulled her face down for a deep kiss, his tongue determined to process her, to make her think of nothing else. Not her misfortunate marriage, not their lack of communication. Aimias suddenly felt the need to prove to her that no one else had ever existed for her. Gently biting her lower lip, his hands shifted to her rear, begging her closer. ”And I am yours.” He pleaded, hoping the certainty in his voice was enough to prove that to her.