for desertdancer

[mostheavenly]

Time passes, as it is wont to do. The weather turns mild, hardly summer but definitely the warmest temperatures the region has seen for a while. Snow melts, at least a little, before more can fall from the sky. It's not a victory, but Aymeric can look out of one of the higher parapets and see that water rather than ice has returned at least in a few places, though there's still no hint of green.

He has a feeling he knows what will cause that, but it's not a subject he intends to broach with Khaishan himself, not for a very long time. Still, he's been spending most of his days not reading or searching for a way to end the "curse" these days, but cleaning, scrubbing down castle walls and floors and furniture that hasn't seen a caring hand in hundreds of years. Between that and trying to keep himself fighting fit (he doesn't intend to ever require Khaishan's protection, even though he can't say he minds it) he's often a delightful kind of tired, something that reminds him pleasantly of his days as a younger knight. It's good, simple work and he revels in it, even moreso when he sees the evidence of his handiwork in more than the castle itself, written across Ishgard on days like this, when it's clear and he can see all the way to the mountains on the other side.

And, he thinks, written across himself. The thought doesn't make him blush, but he does smile a little, private smile, raising a hand to where he knows one of the fresher marks on his skin is. Once they can open up the castle, perhaps he'll wear something more like the armor he came here in, something to cover up a bit more what's only for the two of them. For now, he often wears lower necked shirts deliberately, clothes himself mostly quite modestly out of personal preference and the chill besides, but leaves bold the evidence that it's not to hide from his lover.

He stays lost in that thought only a moment, but right as he's turning to go back inside, his eye catches something. It's far off, still, but he can think of only one impossible thing it could be, and he finds himself running, instead of the more leisurely pace he'd intended to take, until he bursts into the kitchens where he'd left Khaishan working on lunch for the both of them,

"Something's coming," he forces out, before he has to take a gulp of air, "By air."

There's no time for armor, but by the Fury, if Khaishan even shows the slightest hint of anything other than absolute calm, he's going to make sure he at least has his sword.

Comments

[mostheavenly]

He chuckles at that, warm and low,

"Your only at the moment. Though I will endeavor to remain foremost in your regard when there are other guests," it's teasing, in truth. He doesn't know what he has done that is special, to be allowed this close, to have this kind of relationship with Khaishan, but he at least doesn't hold any doubt that he does have it, will continue to.

He reaches a spot that has him stretching his arm a little more than he was intending to and only notices it when he realizes it doesn't hurt. Bemused, he gingerly reaches the more injured arm over to feel out his remaining bruises, finding the skin much, much less tender,

"I wonder if I will ever grow used to that," he muses, fingers spanning his own ribs, though he hasn't let up on his tending to Khaishan.

[desertdancer]

The dragon purrs a soft, warm sort of confirmation, as if he couldn't possibly imagine anyone usurping Aymeric's position as favorite. And it was true enough. Aymeric was indeed special to him, in a way that Khaishan was entirely unwilling to give up for anything.

His attention was drawn by the shift, dozy gaze falling on the elezen, watching him investigating the state of himself. Heartened more by the way he was already healing, an utterly content quirk of his mouth into a lazy smile the response. "Hope you don't have to." He mumbled in a soft tone, both because he definitely didn't want his companion hurt so often, and because the gentle touch was continuing and Aymeric was quite skilled at his new trick of turning a dragon to utter putty in his hands.

[mostheavenly]

"Mm. I'd like to say I share your sentiment but..." there's a soft sigh and he leans more into Khaishan, "I would like to call myself a diplomat, but I came there from the path of a soldier. I have ever believed that you are only peaceful if you have the option of not being, otherwise, you're simply defenseless. As lovely as my life here has been... if I am no longer to be a warrior, I confess I know not what that leaves in it's wake."

It's strange to hear him talk so, perhaps, considering that he's all but rubbing his face contentedly against Khaishan's feathers while he turns him into a puddle, but at the same time, it fits into his hesitance over what had happened with Ishont perfectly.

[desertdancer]

"Not so much that you're no longer a warrior, I'd think..." Khaishan mused, staying right where he was in that blissful state of enjoying the elezen's touch. "So much as you have the freedom to be something else as well. A balancing act to be sure, but you've the time to find whatever might please you, beyond the life of a soldier."

"Besides." A tilt of his head to nuzzle lightly back against Aymeric with a soft purr. "I may not be a warrior, but I'm not unfamiliar with a fight. You can certainly count on having me at your back should something happen."

[mostheavenly]

"I suppose it is a bit fatalistic to consider such injuries inevitable," he admits, "but in my experience, the two have always gone hand in hand." He chuckles, "Well, I certainly could do much worse for someone to watch my back than a giant dragon. Perhaps such injuries will indeed be rare."

He finds that, while too much movement in his torso still causes his intercostal muscles to protest painfully, he's actually regaining use of his more injured arm now as well... so of course he also brings it to bear in caressing the dragon, another chuckle building as he does,

"My, you are enjoying this, aren't you?" he means for the unintentional attention being paid to his wounds and how quickly he's recovering, though if it sounds like he's teasing in a slightly more deliberately sexual way, he's certainly not going to correct the assumption.

[desertdancer]

"Fatalistic but sensible." Khaishan allows, though he's definitely comforted that Aymeric doesn't mind the idea of having such backup. A large dragon was very often a deterrent to violence he'd found, so hopefully that meant that potential fights could be talked down instead. If not... well they would handle it. "I admit many are much less willing to commit to violence when faced with a dragon my size, it's true. Hopefully that trend will continue to keep."

A soft groan was Aymeric's reward for the additional attention, feathers ruffling as he again gave one of those utterly relaxed, full-body shudders for the feel of the second hand being used to caress, utterly limp and at ease otherwise. "As if it is a surprise... you are unfairly good at that..."

[mostheavenly]

That low groan just has him pressing closer, involuntarily, and although he's still not currently comfortable with expressing it fully out-loud, his touch is more honest, turns increasingly more possessive the more Khaishan relaxes into it.

Mine.

"That also doesn't particularly sound like a protest," he teases, though there's also no denying that he's affected by this, too, clearly enjoying himself. It's probably a good thing that Khaishan's at least somewhat "stuck" in this form right now. It's undeniably a very bad idea for them to exert the energy necessary to have sex right now, even beyond the injuries that might make that painful, but it's equally undeniable that if it were physically possible, Aymeric might try anyway at this point. Something about having Khaishan injured but purring under his hands anyway feels like it's turned everything inside his head buzzing and light and things like "better judgement" feel a very long way away just at the moment.

[desertdancer]

"Why would I protest..." Khaishan hummed, quite blissed out at this point. Honestly whatever Aymeric might want to ask for he would likely get with the dragon in such a relaxed state, so very indulgent towards the one who was making everything feel so very good despite the ache of injuries.

Not like he would be upset should Aymeric want to verbally make such a claim either way, but now it was even more a thing he would enjoy. Quite content with the idea of being Aymeric's, in the same way that the elezen was to his own mind, his. Likely better that they couldn't do anything about it with him in this shape, because if the elezen was of a mind to try? Khaishan certainly wasn't about to turn him down at the moment, sensible to do or no.

[mostheavenly]

"You shouldn't protest..." he murmurs back and he's totally lost the thread of this conversation at this point, but he's also about thirty seconds from doing something they'll both regret later (from injuries, not from emotions) anyway, even if he doesn't even know what that is. He didn't know how to have sex with a human and they managed alright, why should not knowing how to have sex with a dragon be any different?

But he is still injured, even if they're melting slowly away the more both of them get wrapped up in one another, Khaishan's unconscious (and conscious) desires manipulating the aether around them, and him starting to lift himself more out of the water has him suddenly hissing in pain, clarity returned like cold water poured over him. It doesn't break the mood fully, but it's enough to move him out of that heated, fuzzy state.

"Ah," he says, when he can breathe again, and it hurts to much to laugh, but he's clearly laughing a bit at himself in his tone all the same, "injuries first, then bed. You make it so easy to forget." He has to pause again for a moment, leaning against Khaishan still, doesn't want to take his hands off him even if he's being slightly less distracting at the moment,

"If nothing else, we should see to your wing. I believe I'm hale enough to at least not be a hinderance to it."

[desertdancer]

As if Khaishan was much better for keeping a hold of what they'd been talking about. No, Aymeric had done a good job of muddling his train of thought, the dragon just a limp puddle of bliss under his hands.

At least until that start from the mortal, the dragon's gaze alerting a bit at the signs of discomfort as he gently nosed at him with a soft huff of breath.

"You're likely right," Khaishan managed after a moment, still quite relaxed but aware of his own aches and pains, aware of how much moving was going to hurt. "I can... push the wing back where it belongs but I'm going to need your help in tying it immobile. There's ropes in the supplies that should work well enough for that."

Not that it would be pleasant for Aymeric to haul on the ropes to secure the wing, but it wouldn't be nearly as painful as it would have been before.

[mostheavenly]

Aymeric nods in understanding, but it's another few moments before he can manage to get himself out of the pool and at least somewhat dried off. He belts a loose robe around himself, more a concession to the chill than nudity but then ends up leaning against Khaishan again for a moment before he can head for wherever he indicates for the ropes.

Aymeric is moving slow, but the bruises are clearly fading and he moves his opposite arm much more freely, though it's clear his breathing is still bothering him somewhat. He comes back with the ropes and considers Khaishan and his injuries for a long moment, eyes entirely too keen,

"Why does your power heal my wounds, but not your own? Is it because of how wounded you are?" he reaches up and smooths some of the feathers the correct direction near one of the wounds, his touch extremely tender.

[desertdancer]

Khaishan waits until Aymeric is on his way again before moving. Doesn't want to risk stumbling into him in his current state while heaving himself out of the spring.

"Hm?" That gentle sort of preening was a thing that he liked, the care and affection it spoke to a soothing thing. As it was, he peered along himself at the injuries. "It's a combination of things... the severity of injuries mainly, but also that it's... not that much aether, comparatively. It might heal someone of your size more quickly than myself."

And there was a matter of if he felt he might deserve to suffer as punishment of some ill-advised sort, but that wasn't a conscious choice on his part.

"Here, lay the ropes out- I'll lay across them and once my wing is tucked in it will be easier to secure it to my side." It wasn't like his wing could be put in a sling- a thing like this would be the next best option, not entirely unlike securing a chocobo's wing should one sprain or break.

[mostheavenly]

It takes a bit of doing. Aymeric has a lot more mobility now than even just a few moments ago, but he does still have to move slowly. He lays out the ropes as instructed but falls mostly silent other than to ask questions about how to get the ropes ready. He might seem a bit pensive, except that his touch is still sweet, gentle where he touches Khaishan to get things into position.

It's the first time Khaishan has been injured around Aymeric and he doesn't quite dote, but it's a somewhat near thing, now that he's feeling better himself.

[desertdancer]

It luckily isn't too hard to position them, even if the length of the ropes makes them unweildy to manage at first. The dragon lays across them, flicking the ends across his back so that both ends are to one side.

"Tie them however you can that'll keep secure... once this has had time to settle while held fast I should be okay to shift to my smaller form." How long would depend on how fast aether worked on the wing, but that went without saying. He wasn't looking forward to doing this but... Aymeric was a supportive presence which made it easier.

He got a mouthful of the injured wing, trying to get a secure grip with a low rumble of discomfort. But he had little choice- too light a grip and his teeth would slide and cause more damage than needed. A few deep breaths, not entirely unlike someone counting off before he jerked on the wing, a sickening sounding pop accompanying it being forced back into joint. A muffled snarl of pain out of Khaishan as he dislodged newly bloodied teeth from feathers, dragging the wing to fold against his side as gingerly as he could, unable to help the way he was shaking as he did.

"T-tie it tight as you can. Then we can rest." He managed after a moment, voice rough with discomfort.

[mostheavenly]

Aymeric can't help the slight wince at the popping noise, but he keeps moving, motions strong and sure. He knows it's foolish, but he pulls probably tighter than he should with his current health, probably re-pulls at the muscles in his chest. He's going to heal sooner anyway and Khaishan might fuss at him, but it'll be done already and he can't bear the thought of Khaishan hurting any more than he has to.

He ends up taking a knee with the effort and has to breathe through a wave of sharp pain, bad enough for a wave of dizziness to almost send him the rest of the way down, but he manages to get the ropes secured.

[desertdancer]

He trusted Aymeric to his task, knew the man would secure the wing well. But he did indeed worry when he saw the man sink to a knee, lowering his head to rest his muzzle against the man's side, giving him support to keep upright, both while he was tying the ropes and after when he needed to catch his breath, his own breaths warm even through the mortal's robe.

"Once... you feel able we can move to my nest and rest." His aether would take care of helping Aymeric heal at least, though it didn't stop the almost fussy way he was looking over the man as if to assure himself of his wellbeing.

[mostheavenly]

He struggles to his feet after a moment and is able to gather some of their things together. It will be slow going to move much of anywhere-- the worst injuries he still has are the muscles around his ribs and every movement hurts at the moment, most notably all breathing, which goes heavier as he's walking.

He nods assent rather than waste breath talking, and he keeps one hand on Khaishan to help hold himself up, but they make it. He collapses into the comfort of the nest for a moment, but before too long, he's sitting up again, albeit only with help and with difficulty.

"Let me at least get some salve on some more of your wounds," he really needs to stop moving, but... "It will make me feel better and I'll heal," he adds, trying to head off the protest he knows is coming.

[desertdancer]

Luckily for the both of them, the nest isn't terribly far. If he didn't think it would cause more pain than the walk, Khaishan would simply lift Aymeric onto his back to carry him, but that brought it's own discomforts.

Either way he's relieved to drag himself into the nest, slumping into it before Aymeric is moving again, a protest predictably on his tongue but...

"Fine. If it will help you rest." He allowed after a moment, nuzzling lightly against him before he goes still, as flat as he's able so it would be easier for Aymeric to reach the injuries.

[mostheavenly]

Getting enough air to talk and move around at the same time is difficult, so he falls silent as he works. It's practical at first, but it very quickly melts into a meditative state as he starts working the salve into the wounds. Before, he had only gotten to the major ones, but now he touches everything, soothes every little hurt he can find with an almost methodical precision.

It's not that Aymeric doesn't show a softer side of himself to Khaishan all the time, but this is on a completely different level, a tender kindness to his touch that seems an awful lot like patching up someone with love, like if he were a little bit more sentimental he might be kissing each little hurt as well. He even smooths the feathers out everywhere he sees them ruffled, setting each little piece of Khaishan to rights as he goes.

The injuries are numerous, so this takes a while, but other than his breathing going a bit harsh in places, he keeps going, doggedly and evenly.

[desertdancer]

The injuries aren't the most comfortable thing to have salve smoothed into, if he's being fair. But the care that Aymeric is showing, the almost tender sort of way he touches scales, fixes rumpled feathers more than makes up for it. More than allows Khaishan to slowly go boneless once again, unable to do much other than hold still for his companion to work, just basking in the kindness he was being tended with, a soft rumble starting low in his chest as he watched the elezen, both out of a concern for his well being as well as just wanting to watch him regardless.

[mostheavenly]

"There," he says finally and while he doesn't sound relieved to be done, he does make a sound of relief to curl down into the softness of the nest instead of remain standing and if Khaishan doesn't immediately either lay his tail or arm or non-hurt wing or something else warm over the uninjured part of him, he's going to gingerly shift and curl into him.

There's a soft shudder as he settles, the kind that comes with finally being somewhere you can rest after a long span of hard work and not being able to stop.

[desertdancer]

Aymeric moves to snuggle in faster than Khaishan moves, but that won't stop his tail from coming around to drape over the man as the dragon tucks around him, assured that the heat radiating from his own larger frame would surely keep his companion warm. A soft ruffle of dark hair from the soft breath that Khaishan exhales, only truly able to relax once Aymeric is resting against him.

[mostheavenly]

"Tomorrow," he says softly, after he has settled and caught his breath, "we'll need to assess the rest of the damage." Check to see if Ishont is still alive, he means, figure out what to do if he's escaped. Aymeric isn't worried about the dragon making it down here or threatening them further in the short term-- if he is still alive, he's very nearly mortally wounded, certainly, far too hurt to make it into the castle in any way. It's the longer term implications he's worried about, for either option, really.

But all of that can wait. For all of his amorous intentions earlier, now that he's curled here, all Aymeric wants is to rest, to let the rest of the remnants of the battle fall away from him in quiet comfort, now that both of them are taken care of as much as they can be.

[desertdancer]

"Sounds fine to me." Khaishan agreed in a gentle mumble. If he was aware of Aymeric's concerns he would be able to alleviate them- with the kin-bond of dragons, especially those one effectively made, he was quite certain that Ishont was dead. But then with how long he'd been a specter in Khaishan's thoughts, he was... relieved in a way to be free of him. It would likely resolve to more complex emotions later, but at the moment he was simply too exhausted to process them.

[mostheavenly]

Aymeric sleeps deep and dreamless, the sleep of healing, and there's a high likelihood that Khaishan will wake to Aymeric ruffling some feathers in an uninjured spot one way and then the other as he often does when he's not really paying attention to what he's doing. It's likely it started as some kind of thing to soothe Khaishan, but it's clear he's a bit zoned out in his own thoughts and is just idly doing it by the time Khaishan wakes.

He's truthfully not really thinking about anything in particular. There are lists that have been sorted through as he lies there, certainly, but he's not going anywhere until Khaishan wakes and he's perfectly alright with that, so the lists and plans have given way to something almost like a light doze, though he doesn't actually sleep.