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Chapter Text

The city was burning. The Final Chorus had begun and the children of the Holy See had risen to meet it.

It had begun so quickly. A roar followed by the first scorching beam of fire as Nidhogg descended on them. In the absence of the Lord Commander, Lucia had sounded the alarm. As head of his house, he had met the summons, donning his armour with speed and efficiency that had been drilled into him over the years. 

A knight lives to serve.
Count Artoirel de Fortemps stood among his men gripping his sword tightly as they charged forward to the front. Passing the line of machinists that currently held back the onslaught. A glimpse of blonde caught his eye before he turned his attention to the carnage ahead.

Stephanivien . 
Of course the machinist had been first to hit the field. Dressed in light armour and manning the biggest machine arm Artoirel had ever seen, he recognised the mighty weapon, after all he had helped test it not half a bell ago. 

Not stopping, the Count pushed through and alongside his soldiers he entered the fray. Steel clashed against tooth and fang. Fire repelled by ice and shields. Trusting in his battle instincts, Artoirel went to war.

***

"Count Fortemps! Ye after his lordship?"
"I am Joye, is he here?" Artoirel shook the snow from his shoulders as he entered the warm embrace of the Manufactory.
"You know where!" The blonde hyuran machinist was used to his daily presence. Arriving after the main force had left for the day. After the initial embarrassment of the morning after their first tryst, Joye had been nothing but supportive.
"Thank you milady" Artoirel gave her a short bow before making the familiar walk towards the basement door.
"Hes pretty excited so if ye gonna fuck can ye at least make it to the bed? I aint picking ye shit up again!" She teased.

Artoirel didn't even bother to hide his shame as he pushed through the door. Entering the stairway down to the firing range was always triggering to his memory. Reaching the bottom of the stairs he pushes open the door.

BANG

Artoirel clapped his hands over his ears and the sudden noise.

"By the fury!"
"Hahahaha!" Maniacal laughter flooded from the other side of the room, the voice, hidden in a thick smoke that lingered for a moment before dissipating. As it cleared Artoirel caught sight of a tall muscular elezen holding what he could only presume was a gun. Or more accurately a small canon.

Stephanivien caught sight of him as he came forward.
"Art!" He dumped the weapon on the side and skipper towards him.
"Hi Steph-" The counts words caught short as the blonde scooped him up and kissed him deeply. Joye had been right at his excitement, Art was pushed back flush against the wall as Stephanivien continued to kiss him hungrily. Artoirel let him, happy to take any attention the machinist wanted to give him. It had only been a few moons since they had finally come together. And after the disaster of the conference their time together had become sparse.

Artoirel had been buried in his new responsibilities, working tirelessly to train and bring Ishgardian defences back up in preparation for Nidhogg's next assault. Similarly, the Manufactory had been running day and night making weapons and armour. They had shared nothing more than feverish kisses and hands in each other's trousers, Artoirel hated to admit how desperate he was to feel Stephanivien inside him again. However with the looming fret of war hanging above them again they had decided to wait. Knowing their luck, an attack would come as they lay together.

"Steph…" Art moaned between kisses. 
"One more kiss" Stephanivien whined back at him. Artoirel chuckled. He said this every time, and every time it was never just one. Sure enough he felt a hand creep down his side.
"Steph…" he moaned again.
"Art… I need to feel you, I want to be inside you so badly." Artoirel moaned. 
"I want that too," Artoirel gasped as he felt Stephanivien stroke him over his trousers. "..but we promised to wait."
"I know, but that doesn't change how badly I want you."

A wicked thought crossed Artoirel's mind. One he would have been embarrassed about if it wasn't for the hard length pressing against his hip. He pushed the machinist off him, his hand pressed against one of his hard pecks. Artoirel always liked touching them and feeling the way they flexed at his touch. He smiled at Stephanivien and kissed him lightly before he dropped down to his knees.
"Art?" Stephanivien watched him settle on his knees. "What are you doing?"
"You said you wanted to be inside me?" Artoirel reached for his breeches. "There's a way we can do that…"

Artoirels fingers nervously loosen the tie that held Stephanivien's trousers closed. He had never done this before, would it be enough to satisfy Stephanivien? Taking a breath he pulled out his lover's erect cock. He had never been this close with his face before, it was almost intimidating. He remembered when Stephanivien had done it to him in this same room, and he remembered how good it had felt.
"Art, take it slow." 

Artoirel took Stephanivien's cock in hand and experimentally licked at the head. It tasted strange to him and he was not overly sure he liked it but he looked up to see the look of pure desire on Stephanivien's face. It was enough to spur him on. Taking a calming breath he took the head into his mouth and sucked gently.

The machinist moaned softly as Artoirel worked the head in and out. Looking down he could hardly believe to have the Count de Fortemps on his knees before him servicing him so wantonly. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. If he hadn't already decided he was in love, this would have been the moment. Watching Artoirel take more and more of him with each thrust, he put his hand on Artoirel's hair to guide him, enjoying the feel of his silky hair beneath his calloused fingers. Small beads of saliva dropped from Artoirel's mouth as he continued to take his length, Stephanivien couldn't fault his lack of technique. Seeing the usually put together Lord moaning as he bobbed his head up and down was going to fuel his fantasies for the rest of his days.

"Art…" he breathed deeply. "Keep going. A little harder.. ahhh!"
Artoirel looked up at him as he began to suck harder, his tongue running along the bottom of his shaft as it passed to the back of his mouth. He could feel his saliva and Stephanivien's precome dripping down over his chin, the taste now salty on his lips. The more he took the cock in his mouth, the more the taste became manageable and Artoirel found he rather enjoyed the sensation. More importantly, he adored the way Stephanivien whined and moaned above him.

"Art I'm getting close" Stephanivien panted, his fingers scratching against Artoirel's scalp as he closed in on his completion. Artoirel loved it, he continued to suck, lost in his own concentration to realize what was about to happen. As Stephanivien came, Artoirel startled and spluttered as he felt hot seed hit his tongue. In his surprise the machinist's cock fell from his lips and he felt a splash across his face as the last of his spend painted his cheeks.

"Fury Art! Fuck! I'm sorry!" Stephanivien panicked as the Count half swallowed,  half spat out his release from his mouth. He dropped to his knees in front of Artoirel and lifted his face looking at his half shocked half amused face.
"Probably the least graceful thing I've ever done." He chuckled.
Stephanivien looked at him for a moment before he began laughing himself. His hands grabbed his face and kissed him fiercely, not caring for the mess he was making of them both.
"You are a wonder Art, I am so lucky to have you."
"Shush," he smiled, "do you have something for me to clean up. I don't think I could face Joye like this."

Stephanivien looked around and grabbed the cleanest cloth he could find. He gently wiped away the stains on his and Artoirel's face, kissing him again lightly. 
"Do you want me to care for you?" Stephanivien asked, conscious he had taken his own pleasure and offered nothing in return as he tucked himself back into his pants.
"Don't worry, there is time enough for that later. Why don't you show me what had you in such a frenzied state to begin with?"
"Ahh! But of course!" He pulled Artoirel to his feet and led him over to the machine he had been playing with prior to the Counts arrival.

"Meet the Flame of Fury!" The machinist puffed his chest out proudly as he picked up and presented the giant gun to Artoirel.
"She's very large…" Artoirel looked her over. "Doesn't seem practical for welding in battle?"
"Well! She can't be handled in heavy armour, her heavy shot recoil would render a soldier stationary too long if they should miss. But I've designed a light armour to go with it that gives protection and functionality.
Artoirel tried to follow as he explained the creation. "She can fire different types of shots from consistent fire to larger flame bursts. Hot enough and strong enough to pierce dragonhide. Look!"

He pointed across the firing range. Across the way Artoirel looked between the booths at the wall, upon it was draped an old dragon hide. Severely burnt and with precision blast holds burnt into the side. One in particular Artoirel could still see the wall behind smoking. 
"She's powerful." Artoirel nodded in approval. A small part of him wanted to have a go, but a lifetime of being sensible, held him back. Something he had slowly been working on. After all, admitting his feelings for Stephanivien had been a huge risk. Each visit to the manufactory had him growing bolder, coming to life. Not every day was spent on the range. But Artoirel enjoyed it everytime. He had yet to admit how much he had begun to enjoy shooting a gun.

"Want to try?" Stephanivien grinned at him.
Artoirel took a step back, intimidated by the size.
"No I'm good-" Stephanivien raised his eyebrow. "...Maybe…"
"So easy to read Art. You're becoming a gun hoe." He barked a laugh, dumping the gun into the Count's arms.
"Some idiot let me shoot one once. It's addictive."

Steph stepped up behind him. 
"Me or the gun?"

Artoirel swatted him away and rearranged his hands to better hold Fury. He let a grinning Stephanivien show him the controls.and then point him down the range. Taking a strong stance, Artoirel squeezed the trigger. 

BANG

The entire room shook as the flame burst against the hide. The braced for the recoil but still felt himself pushed backwards with the force. Definitely a weapon more suited to Stephanivien's bulk of upper body strength.
"Whoa that was…" Art began looking around at Stephanivien with joy, but the machinist looked pale. "Steph?"

Then Artoirel heard it, a roar followed by another earth shaker, more powerful than the last.
"Dragons." Artoirel gasped.
"Nidhogg." Stephanivien looked at him.
"Fury preserve us."

It was as if a switch had been flipped in them, they moved in unison, Stephanivien took the gun from Artoirel's arms as the Count started to run to the door. Just as his hand reached the door he felt a tug at his elbow.
He turned back to Stephanivien who looked at him desperately.

"I love you." It could be the last chance either of them had. He would not waste it.
"I love you too Steph," Artoirel tried to hide his sadness as he kissed him. "Be safe."

Artoirel raced through the Manufactory, behind him he could hear Stephanivien bellowing at Joye, the female machinist was already pulling weapons from crates. He took the stairs and ran out, the streets were full of chaos. Soldiers ran past him towards the gate as he pelted up the pillars. The door to the Fortemps manor was already open, as he approached he began tearing at the buttons to his vest pulling it off as he came through the door.

"Artoirel!" Emmanellain called at him as he came through the door. Artoirel nodded at him glad to see his brother almost fully in his armour. One of the servants stepped forward as he stripped his normal clothes and dived into his mail. 
"Be safe my sons." Lord Edmont stood in the open parlor door as he always had when the alarm sounded. Artoirel had sensed his presence before he spoke. He had watched them practice for hours in their youth. Drill after drill until they could do it to perfection.

It had been the one thing all three of Edmont's sons had done together. The one thing he had fought the Countess on. They were all to train as knights, they would fight on the battlefield as equals, so they would learn to dress for war as equals. This was the first time Haurchefant had not been present, save for when he had been stationed at Dragonhead. He looked at his father as he lifted his shield, looking at the vacant spot where his brother's armour would have hung.

"Father." The command in his voice drew Edmont's attention to him.
"Artoirel," he reached up to his cheek, bringing their foreheads together. "Fight well my son."
"I will Father." Artoirel promised.
"Emmanellain," he turned and repeated the gesture to his youngest. "Be brave."
"Yes Father." The usual light lilt to Emmanellain was all but gone replaced with a seriousness that made his Father proud.

"A knight lives to serve."
"A knight lives to serve."

***

Artoirel slumped back against a piece of fallen tower. All around him was rubble. Bodies of dragons and soldiers littered the bridge as far as he could see. He sucked in as much air as he could and pushed up. He couldn't afford to stay still and just in time. Flames erupted behind him where he had just fallen, narrowly missing him. He brandished his sword as the wyvern dropped down on him, killing it with a single blow.

The battle had raged hard, and Artoirel could feel his strength waning. 
No. Keep going. For Father, for Haurchefant. For Stephanivien.
But his will would only carry him so far. Stumbling forward again he continued to fight.

"Back off ye fucker!" He heard a shout on the wall above him followed by a blast of cannon fire. The voice belonged to Joye. He watched and she pushed back a group of dragons attempting to surround her. The flames from the barrel of her gun fanned out in front of her. Artoirel could instantly see her peril, her rear was unguarded and behind her a much larger dragon had descended down.

"Joye!" She could not hear him. He scrambled up the stone battlement she stood on but it was already too late. He would not reach her in time, he watched the dragon rear up to fire, the roar finally catching her attention.

BANG

"Take that!"

BANG

"AND THAT!"

The larger dragon recoiled. Struck twice by two huge blasts of fire. Artoirel reached the pack, cutting down the first of Joye's assailants. Seeing Artoirel beside her she switched rounds, beginning to blast back the remaining enemies. Behind them Stephanivien roared at the bigger dragon, its heavy stomp cracking the stones beneath their feet.

"Milord!" Joye began dragging him across as the stones beneath them began to crumble and fall away. They heaved past Stephanivien as he continued to rain Fury on the beast. It thrashed in pain, backing up towards the broken ledge. The machinist continued to advance, shot after shot. Artoirel looked back in time to see the dragon slip off the edge with a last flail of its claws it swiped at the machinist and sent them both tumbling over the edge.

"STEPHANIVIEN!" Artoirel's heart plummeted. Shaking off Joye who screamed at him to come back he pelted forward. His foot caught on a crack in the stone and he fell to the ground. Pain surged above his eye, he could feel the blood running down from the wound cut into the top of his forehead. He put a hand out to pick himself up, it landed on Stephanivien's discarded gun. Artoirel couldn't help the tears that prickled his eyes. No no no! Fury please no!

He crawled to the edge, there was no sign of Stephanivien, and as far as Artoirel could see blinded by the tears that came freely there was nowhere he could have grabbed onto. Stephanivien was gone.

CRACK

The stone beneath him creaked as a claw blasted into the floor.
The dragon. It was still alive, Artoirel tried to pull away but he had left himself open. The second claw came up out of nowhere slamming down on his exposed back. Artoirel howled in pain as the claws dug in hard enough to pierce had he not been in full armour. Without it, he would have surely been crushed. The battlement beneath him began to crumble again under the impact and within moments Artoirel was falling. 

The elezen and the dragon fell from the edge plummeting down into the abyss. Artoirel was sure this was the end for him. With a crash they both landed atop a pile of rubble from the bridge above. Caught and wedged against the side of the ravine. His leg screamed in agony from the impact, he didn't need a chirurgeon to tell him it was broken. He looked around desperately. As the dragon growled weakly beside him. 

Artoirel looked for his sword but it was nowhere to be seen, lost in the chaos. His hand touched a scrap of familiar fabric. He pulled it close to his chest. His eyes looked around frantically. But there was no sign of its owner. He looked down at the bandana in his hand, stained with blood. As much as he tried to deny it, there was little chance that the machinist had survived. He wrapped Stephanivien's bandana around his own bleeding hand. If this was it, he would go with whatever scrap of his love he could take. He knew no matter what, Stephanivien would be waiting for him at Halone's Gate.

The dragon shuffled again and began to get up. Artoirels attention snapped back to it. It was weak, he could see its legs shaking, not that it mattered. Artoirel couldn't stand and he had nowhere to escape even if he could. 

Wait. Fury!

Artoirel's eyes caught sight of Flame of Fury lying in the rubble to his right. It wasn't far, but could he make it in time? He had to try, if he was going to die, he would take the dragon that killed Stephanivien with him. He mustered all of his energy left in his body and began to drag himself across the wreckage. The movement wasn't unnoticed. 
"Fuck!" he cursed as he desperately reached for the leather strap just out of his reach. He could hear the growling behind him. With a final push his hand closed around the leather. He pulled it to him with a cry, turning over he held the gun up and aimed at the dragon as it limped towards him.

He took a breath. Take the shot. He could hear Stephanivien behind him. Guiding him. This was his last chance. He squeezed the trigger.

BANG.

Artoirel screamed. The recoil against his shoulder cracked it into the stone behind him. He couldn't breathe, his eyes clouded in tears. Fury fell from his hands and rolled away. The force had splintered his pauldron in half driving the metal into his flesh. He could feel the blood blossoming through his under armour. His blurred vision began to clear and he looked at the dragon. It still lived to his dismay.

He couldn't move as a clawed foot slammed into his chest holding him in place.

This is it. This is how I die.

Artoirel closed his eyes as the dragon's maw opened. He could feel the heat of the flame as it prepared to fire.

"I'm coming Steph," he cried softly. "Wait for me..."

Chapter Text

Artoirel sat with a sigh, enjoying the feeling of sinking into his favourite sofa. After a day full of meetings he was ready to collapse with exhaustion.
If only his day was over. On his lap rested a stack of papers he needed to review. 
Soft music played from the orchestration on the shelf. A sweet melody that soothed his soul, he let the tune wash over him.

He picked up the first paper off the stack and began to read. Or skim rather, there was no way he could read each document in full. But he had become confident that he could pick out the details needed and where in the fine print things might be hidden. Seeing nothing amiss he flipped it and placed it on the vacant cushion beside him. 

He worked through several sheets when the familiar click of wood against the floor signalled his fathers arrival.
"Still working?" Lord Edmont ascended the stairs to the upper level of the library where Artoirel had settled.
"'A Count's work is never done.'" He replied with a smile. Edmont chuckled.
"Using my own words against me. Shocking Artoirel."

Passing him Edmont, reached to the drinks cabinet, pulling out 2 snifter glasses and a bottle of brandy.
"Drink?" He poured the first glass.
"Thank you." He took the offered glass and took a sip. The brandy was rich and warmed his throat as it went down. One of his Father's favourite vintages he noted.

He side eyed his father, Edmont sat on the nearby chair. Artoirel waited. He had seen this tactic many times with Emmanellain, when Edmont wanted to bring up something sensitive. Or to get the truth out of his youngest brother. Never before had he been on the receiving end. But then Artoirel had always followed the rules, behaved as he should. What could he have possibly done to trigger his Father into questioning him.

"You are aware I've watched you do this to Emmanellain on countless occasions?" He decided if his Father was fishing, he would be direct. As expected his statement caught the former Caught off guard.
"Am I so transparent?" He chuckled. 
"What is it you want to know?"
Edmont put his snifter on the side table. And looked at him. He couldn't help but see how grown up he was now. How well he had taken over as the head of the house. His heart swelled with pride.

"You are courting." It wasn't a question.
Artoirel spat out his sip of brandy. It was undignified, Artoirel was mortified as he pulled a handkerchief from his housecoat to clean the mess. Edmont passed no judgment on the action but waited patiently for his response.
"What makes you think that?" He tried to respond calmly.
"Aside from your graceful display just now," Artoirel's cheeks flushed. "You have been coming home late some nights, looking happier than I've ever seen you. I can only assume it means there is someone else involved. Your expression, my son, tells me I've hit the mark."

He wasn't wrong, but neither was he right. Neither of them had so much as uttered the word 'courting'. Could it be even considered that. There was no intent right now to marry. Although Artoirel entertained the idea on nights when he returned to his bed, but it was always followed by his mother's voice. Marry well, produce heirs. You have a responsibility to your station, Artoirel. 
How long would he be able to call Stephanivien his before inevitability he would have to end it for his duty. 

"Artoirel, I wish nothing but your happiness." His Father looked at him concerned. "What troubles you so? Do you fear I would not approve?"
"Yes." Artoirel admitted. "I fear that such a union would be frowned upon by both our houses."
Edmont studied him further, watching as Artoirel stared intently as the brandy glass in his own hands. He chose his next words carefully.
"Does he make you happy?"

Artoirel's head whipped up. He stared open mouthed at the former Count. His mouth opened and shut several times before he was able to form a single word.
"How-?"
"You have always been a diligent son. You have followed every practical and social rule since you could stand. Your mother was very adamant on you marrying to a high standard."

Edmont paused to take another drink.
"If you had found a suitable wife to court and marry you would not have hesitated to seek my approval. Your reluctance too, means otherwise."

Was he so predictable to his Father? Yes. He was correct on every account. Artoirel by all rights should have married by now. And if his mother still lived she would have ensured it. 
"You're right. Please forgive me for my hesitation." Artoirel drained the last of his drink. Turning the snifter in his hand he took a breath. "With the looming threat of Nidhogg on our shoulders we don't want to think ahead. When the time comes we will both be at the front… Maybe, if we both live. Maybe then we can look at what our future could be."

"I understand. Whatever happens, I will support you." Edmont poured them both a second drink. 
"Thank you." Artoirel took a long sip. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything Artoirel."

"Do you regret marrying my mother?" It was one of those topics they never spoke of. Something Artoirel had never been brave enough to question himself. He had heard rumours and talk on the subject. But never had he wanted to ask directly. 
If he was being honest with his answers, he hoped his Father might be too.

"Sometimes." Edmont sighed. "We were compatible in many ways, but I cannot say I truly loved her."
Artoirel held his glass tightly. 
"I do not regret that she gave me you and your brother. You are both my pride and joy in life. And I couldn't be prouder of the men you are both becoming."
Artoirel nodded. He had often wondered how different his life would have been without Haurchefant, if his parents were happy. Would Emmanellain be different? 

Emmanellain had always had the pressure of his mother weighing down on him the most, being raised to be better than Haurchefant. When his mother passed Emmanellain had suffered greatly, Artoirel by then had already accepted his position in life as future heir. Emmanellain spent the next few years lost and lonely, until he had taken in Honoroit. Despite the playful and somewhat naïve side he showed. Emmanellain was kind and caring. 

"Emmanellain still has some room to grow."
"You are right." Edmont agreed. "He may not have your smarts, or Haurchefant's bravery. But I can see him going far one day."
"If only he would drop his infatuation with Laniette"
"I can't imagine Baurendouin approving of a match between the two even if she was interested. He's very protective of them now after losing Chlodebaimt. A feeling I sadly can understand."

"What about me?" Artoirel said quietly.
"Son?" 
"Would he approve of me?"

Edmont looked at him with a raised eyebrow. After a moment his features softened in the realization of what Artoirel was trying to tell him.
"One of the Haillenarte boys?" Artoirel nodded. Edmont's eyebrow raised higher. Artoirel stared into his drink unable to meet his father's gaze.

"Not Francel," Edmont mused. "I've never seen you have even a slight conversation with Aurvael, which leaves Stephanivien. You were always so close as children, was there perhaps more to it?"

"You would call me a sentimental idiot if I told you how long I had been in love with him." Artoirel blushed.

"Stephanivien? Truly?" Edmont smiled slightly bemused. He had always wondered if there was more to their childhood relationship. Especially after the lengths his mother had taken to keep them apart. "As long as he makes you happy that is good enough for me."

"He does." Artoirel returned the smile. "I just pray to Halone that we make it through this alive."
"I will pray for it too."

***

Flames scorched above him.

But Artoirel felt no new pain. The dragon roared and he dared to open his eyes.

"GET THE FUCK OFF HIM!" 

All Artoirel could see was fire, hotter and brighter than the sun on a clear day. It wasn't the dragon, the flames could only be coming from Fury. Who? Artoirel couldn't think. It wasn't possible. He wouldn't let himself hope.

"I said back off!" The dragon roared above Artoirel, recoiling from the flames as they scorched its scales. It reared itself backwards and prepared its own flame again, as it came down flames erupted from its maw.
"Fury!" The unknown figure dived to avoid the fire, rolling to the ground to steady themselves lifting the Fury again. As the dragon came down a scream split the air. Artoirel! The gun swung about, a loud click signalling the change of shot.

Aiming carefully, the Flames of the Fury fired for the last time. The shot tore through the air and hit the dragon in the head. There was a sickening roar as the creature convulsed in pain. Broken scales and horns littered the ground. It thrashed dangerously, slamming its front legs again into the ground. Another scream rose to meet the dragons cry.
"No no no!" Feet scrambled forward trying to avoid as the dragon collapsed, the ground shaking with the weight of the beast as it succumbed to its fatal wound.

Artoirel's vision was white. Twice the fierce claws of the dragon had slammed down onto his chest. Searing pain tore through his body.
"Art!" The voice called again. Something was being lifted off him, but he couldn't tell what, there was only pain. Pain in his body and pain in his heart. He could feel his energy drifting away. His body was heavy, even as he felt his head lifted onto something softer. 
"Come on Art, stay with me." Artoirel could barely see the face above him, there was something familiar…
"Is this heaven?"
"No my love," Fingers wiped the tears from his face. "You're still with me. Don't give up yet."
"Steph..?"
"I'm here Art." The machinist cradled his head. "I'm here…"

Stephanivien looked over Artoirel's body trying to assess the damage. He was no healer, there was no way he could fathom the depth of Artoirel's injuries. 
"What hurts?" Stephanivien asked, smoothing Artoirel's hair back off his face.
"Everything…" Artoirel gasped trying to suck in a breath. "...I thought you were dead."
"Not quite," the machinist ran his hands over his dented pauldron. "Your shoulder…"
"Recoil-" Artoirel hissed as Stephanivien made to move it. "Don't… not unless you have something to bind it. I'll bleed out…"
"Fury help me" he cursed. 

Stephanivien was trying not to panic. The Artoirel before him, his Artoirel, looked broken. Reaching over from his kneeling position, he moved his hands carefully over his chest. Grimacing every time Artoirel made a pained sound, he tried not to jostle Artoirel's head in his lap, the thought of causing him further pain brought the machinist close to tears. He finished his rough assessment and returned to stroking Artoirel's hair.

"How bad..?" Artoirel sounded weak.
"You have a gash on your head, your leg is broken and your pauldron is in your shoulder."
"Is that all?" He tried to chuckle.
"Your ribs.." Stephanivien lost his words.
"I'm going to die… aren't I?'' He sounded so defeated. Stephanivien's heart shattered.

He shook his head trying to stop his tears. He couldn't say it out loud. Saying it would make it real but he knew it would take a miracle to save him. With the force the dragon had slammed on him it was likely that his ribs had broken, and with that there would be internal bleeding. Without a healer, Artoirel would surely die.

But they were yalms below the bridge, on a ledge almost out of sight. Anyone who had seen them go over would think them lost. No-one would look for them. He could do nothing but sit here, cradling Artoirel's broken body as he died slowly. After that he couldn't even think of what he would do.

Above them they heard a great roar. The battle still surged on without them. Stephanivien looked up in time to see a huge dragon descending over, flagged by two more equal to the size they had felled.
"Halone save us." 

Stephanivien felt his stomach sink, a second great wyrm could only mean Ishgard's destruction. Fearing the worst, he pulled Artoirel as close as he dared, at least he they would be together.
"What's happening?" Artoirel coughed.
"More dragons, one as big as Nidhogg. And- wait-" Stephanivien's eye caught a shine of metal, a flash of blue.
"The Warrior of Light!" Stephanivien felt hope. "And the Lord Commander! Atop the dragons that approach."
It was a small and fleeting moment where Stephanivien dared to believe they were saved. But no matter what happened above, it didn't change their predicament. He couldn't move Artoirel, if he did it could cause more damage. No way to gain anyone's attention should the battle end, the last remaining ammunition of the Fury spent on his final desperate shot.

The bridge shook, more rubble fell around them. The machinist covered Artoirel as best he could, shielding him from the sharp rocks. He cried out as a large piece grazed his exposed back.
"Art!" He sat back up looking down properly at Artoirel, the Count was still. "No no Art, stay with me!"
Artoirel's eyes fluttered slightly, but they did not open. Stephanivien stroked his cheek softly. 
"I love you Artoirel," he cried. There was nothing he could do, he could feel him slipping away from his grasp. "Don't leave me.."

"I- love-" The words were broken between coughs. Artoirel's lips stained red with his blood. "-you."

Suddenly all was quiet.

The battle had stopped and the bridge no longer sang with the sound of claw and steel. They could hear no cheering, no victory roar, no way of telling what had transpired above. Night had crept up over them and it was falling rapidly dark without flames of the dragons burning the skies.

"Is it over?" Artoirel's voice was barely audible, even in the silence that had descended.
"I think so." 
"It's cold…"

Artoirel tried to open his eyes. He wanted to see Stephanivien again, one last time. But he couldn't move, his body ached, not even his fingers would move if he willed them. Stephanivien hadn't said it. But he knew, he knew he was dying. He was growing cold, he didn't have much time left.

"Steph-" His voice was so quiet, the machinist had to lean in close to hear him.
"I'm here, my love."

My love. How Artoirel had wished he could spend his life with him, it was all he had dreamt about since they were children. If this was to be the end. He had to ask.

"Would you have married me?" Stephanivien choked back a sob. "If we had both lived?"
He felt something warm against his lips. Stephanivien had kissed him. A gentle, affirming kiss, the final one they would share. He wanted so desperately to lift his arms up, to wrap around him tightly. To hold him one last time.
Wet droplets fell to his cheeks meeting with his own tears that streamed silently down his face.

"Yes." Came the reply. "Of course I would have. You are my entire world and I don't think I can live without you.

Artoirel smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry…" he started weakly. "I'm sorry I never came back to you."

"No Art, I'm sorry, sorry that I let you go." Stephanivien's face now completely stained with tears.

"I'll be waiting for you..."

"ARTOIREL!'

Chapter Text

"Emmanellain!" A voice called out.

The young lord looked up, he was limping, his arm around the neck of a Fortemps Knight as he came through the Gates of Judgement.
"Father!" He called out joyfully catching sight of his Father waiting in the crowd. The plaza was full of activity. Wounded soldiers looking for aid, families eagerly waiting for the return of their sons and daughters. 
"My Lord," the knight dipped his head as he helped Emmanellain to sit on the wall.
"Are you badly hurt?" Edmont moved over to him, evident worry on his brow.
"A sprain, nothing more!" He winced at the pain as he settled down on the stone.

"Let me take a look at that."
Before him knelt a tall auri man, his hair shade of a fading sunset. He placed his hand over Emmanellain's leg, the young Lord hissing as the healing magic seeped in and eased the ache.
"Thank you Master Bahram."
On more than one occasion their house guest had proved to be a sound healer. The former hero of Eorzea and father to the Warrior of Light continued to assess him for further wounds, satisfied he was otherwise unharmed he turned his attention to the other soldiers coming through the Gates. Snow began falling softly, Edmont sighed unable to see clearly through the flurries.

"Where is your brother?" Edmont asked, scanning the crowd for signs of his eldest son.
"I haven't seen him since the battle was underway." Emmanellain stood and looked about. His eyes spied a familiar group similarly gathered. "Perhaps the Haillenarte's have seen him?" 

The Fortemps Lords, followed by the auri, made their way across the plaza to the other family. Edmont counted the knights. Francel next to his father, the Lady Laniaitte sat on a crate as her brother Aurvael tended a minor wound. Baurendouin fussed over them all, his eyes looking up to the Gate every so often. Like Artoirel, the eldest Haillenarte son was missing. Edmont’s heart dropped, he prayed that wherever they were, they were together.
"Emm!" Francel caught sight of him rushing forward to greet them. Emmanellain clapped his shoulder. Edmont stepped passed them to Lord Baurendouin. 

"Edmont" he nodded grimly.
"Baurendouin," he returned the gesture. "Artoirel has not returned, nor Stephanivien I see?"
"No, he's not been seen. I sent a runner down to where they’ve taken the fallen, he was not among them."
"Artoirel's missing too?" Lanniaitte looked up from Aurvael as he finished bandaging the wound on her head. There was worry across both their faces.
"Fear not my lovely Lady, I am sure they are merely celebrating their victory together! So like them to not think to check in with their families."
Laniaitte scowled at Emmanellain and looked to her father. Edmont shot him a look that made his youngest son flush in embarrassment. It was not like Artoirel to forget to check in, which could mean only one thing. They all stood silently, no-one wanting to be the first to suggest the worst. 

"Milords?" A small voice came from behind Francel. They all turned to look at the dishevelled hyuran machinist. She shivered in the cold, snow already catching in her blonde hair.
"Mistress Joye." Baurendouin acknowledged her.

"I-" her words caught in her throat. She looked from Count Baurendouin to Lord Edmont. "I'm sorry milords. I couldn't stop em..."

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Seven sets of eyes looked at her intently. Edmont gripped his cane, his knuckles turning white. Taking a step forward he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You saw what befell them? Please, tell us what happened."

"Their lordships were tryna help me, I left me back open and a bigun tried to get me. His Lordship shot it back, but the bridge-"
She wiped the tears from her eyes. "The bastard took 'im over. The Count tried to help 'im. But it all fell beneath them."
“What fell?”
“The bridge Milord, they fell with it.”

It took everyone a moment to absorb her words. Edmonts had gripped even tighter, shaking slightly. He recoiled back from Joye who trembled and began to sink to the floor. Barham stepped forward and caught her. Laniaitte held onto Francel as he wept into her shoulder. Her own face shining with silent tears.
"They could have survived." Emmanellain tried hopefully. "They could have landed somewhere?"
Lanniaitte shook her head. "Even if they did, it's dark now and snowing. It would be impossible to find them."

Behind them another figure approached. Clad in armour broken by her brutal clash with the dreadwyrm, stood the Warrior of Light.
"I can find them," every head turned to look down at her. Edmont had never seen her look so defeated. Her usually kind eyes were hollow as if she had seen a ghost. There was a tremble to her usually stoic demeanor. 
"Lánya!" Barham rushed to his daughter's side, instantly on alert to any injuries she had sustained. She batted him away, her eyes fixed on Edmont. 
"I'll find him."
They all stared at her. Her armour was cracked in several places, the white plates speckled with blood, whose blood it was they could not tell.
"Jefara, it's too dark. There's nothing we can do for them even if they live."

"I'll find them." She repeated. Her face was pale, her face smeared with tears previously shed as well as the ones that spilled freely now.
"Miss yer mad to go out there." Joye protested. 
"I owe it to Artoirel to try."

With that she turned to head back to the Gate. Several voices protested, she ignored them all, only stopping to turn to the machinist.
"Show me where. Please?" Her bottom lip trembled as she looked at Joye. The hyuran nodded and followed her.
"You all should go back, clean and rest up." Barham turned to the count. I shall talk some sense into her."
Edmont nodded and began to shepherd Emmanellain back towards the city.
"But father!"
"Come Emmanellain." He said, trying to keep the anguish from his voice. "We can do nothing but wait."

***

"Here Mistress" Joye had led her across the battlements to a section of the wall that was half missing. Scratch marks littered the floor where the beast had tried to cling on too. Around them lay still scattered bodies of Nidhogg's brood. Joye pulled the Barhams coat around her shoulders and looked down to the stones as she recalled the events again.
"It took his Lordship first and then Count tried to go after 'im. It clung in and pulled 'im off too." She pointed to the edge, several of the stones had worn away, like much of the bridge it would take a huge effort to restore.

Jefara peered over the edge. She could barely see anything. She was being foolish, she knew it, but she couldn't give up. She shook her head, desperately trying to think of what she would do next, blinking flecks of snow from her eyes. Even with her limited dark vision it would be unsafe for her to climb down unaided. Looking around she caught sight of a sword on the floor. Artoirel's sword. She recognised the red ruby inset into the handle. She picked it, holding the pommel to her chest.

"Lánya." Her father came to stand with them, lantern in hand.
"I can't lose anyone else." 
"You need to rest and let me check your injuries." 
"I do not need healing Apa." She moved along the wall determined to find a way down. But the side of the cliff was steep, and while there were ledges sticking out the chances of Artoirel and Stephanivien landed on one would be slim. Her body shook and her legs gave way as she crumbled under the weight of emotions. Crushing guilt that she had now taken two of Lord Edmont's sons from him. A man who had opened his home first to her then her father as they had reunited.

Barham knelt down beside her, his arms surrounding her. He let her cry as she clung to the front of his shirt.
Your battle is won and yet you linger Warrior.
"Vidofnir!" Jefara gasped, turning to see her dragon comrade on the bridge behind them. "I thought you had all gone?" 
Mine sire has asked me to remain, in case of lingering children of Nidhogg's brood.
Jefara stood, legs unsteady and with her father's help walked over to the dragon.
"Thank you Vidofnir, it is a comfort to know you are here." She reached a hand out to stroke the scales of Vidofnir's snout. The dragon nuzzled her hand in response.
For whom do you weep? Your Azure dragoon?
"I do weep for him, but in this moment, it is for my tesó."
Many brave souls have been lost this day, man and dragon alike.
"He could still be down there. I won't give up hope that he still lives."

She wiped a fresh tear from her eyes. Vidofnir cocked her head slightly.
You are referring to one of the fallen soldiers on the cliffside? There are several that litter the cliff face below.
“Vidofnir! You saw people? What did they look like?"
Your kind all look the same to me, however there were signs of a battle that took place on a lower level. Two soldiers fell as well as the beast. One of your noble warriors and one with fake flames.
Joye gasped. "That sounds like his Lordship!"
“Is there no chance they could have lived?” Jefara tried to squash the hope in her voice.
I did not look close enough to see if they lived. They were unmoving, laid together peacefully. One of Nidhogg's children was slain beside them.

"Vidofnir, please." Jefara begged. "Take me down there. I have to know, if it is them, I have to bring them home." She looked up into Vidofnir's eyes pleading desperately at the wyrm. She let out a defeated rumble.
Very well.
Vidofnir lowered her neck to allow the Warrior of Light to clamber onto her back.
Her father stepped forward looking at her worriedly.
"Be careful mistress." Joye stepped forward from where she had stood by the wall. She held both her hands together in silent prayer.
"Please do not get your hopes up Lánya." 
Barham was worried. He shouldn't let her go alone, but Vidofnir could only carry so many. And if she found anything, Vidofnir would be encumbered enough as it was.
"Apa, I know. But I have to try." She dried her eyes and gripped the spines on Vidofnir's neck.
"Fly safe."

Vidofnir unfurled her wings, flexing them as she prepared to take flight. Jefara held tightly and braced for take off. Vidofnir flew up and over the edge of the bridge plunging into the abyss below.

***

Stephanivien sat with his back against the cliffside. He had gently pulled Artoirel to lie beside him. The Count was unmoving, his head resting against Stephanivien's chest. Tears had long stopped falling down his stained cheeks. Frozen in place. A light layer of snow had begun to stick to their armour. 

"'Til we die, it's just you and I
Until the end of time, we will be together"

Stephanivien gripped Artoirel tighter, his voice broken and stuttering as he shivered in the cold. He knew it was pointless, but the melody soothed him as he lay there, he hoped that his words reached Artoirel wherever he now rested.

"'Til death do us part
You'll hold my heart,"

How many times had he heard Artoirel sing it when they were younger? Enough that he knew every word, even years later. Was it still his favourite song? He didn't know, a pang of regret filled him. He would never know, his thoughts drifted back to when they were younger.

"A gift? For me?"
"I made it for you."
"You made it? Oh! This song!"
"I know it's your favourite."
"I love it! Thank you Stephanivien."
"When are you going to call me Steph?"
"I- I  thought only your siblings were allowed to call you that?"
"Decided to let you too…"
"Thank you… Steph."

The memory faded from his mind and a rush of pain washed over him again. With the thrill of battle gone, Stephanivien could feel his own injuries now. His wrist ached, his back cut open by rubble and more bruises than he had thought possible. He prayed to Halone that death took him quickly. He knew he could end it, to crawl to the edge and let himself fall. But he would stay, he wouldn't leave Artoirel’s side. His head dropped forward, his energy failing him finally as the pain and cold sapped what little strength remained in him.

"I love you." He whispered as his eyes closed.

Chapter Text

Artoirel felt weightless.

There was no feeling of pain anymore in his limbs, and no other feeling besides that. There was a fog in his mind that he couldn't quite place. 
Is this death?

"Not quite Artoirel."
Artoirel couldn't see anything, the vast emptiness that surrounded him was neither light nor dark. Steadily the fog began to lift.
Wherever he sat, he was fully clad in his armour, he noted his shoulder pauldron was no longer dented. He looked like he did on a regular day, armour shining and clean, no longer covered in the grime of war.
"Are you sure?" He answered out loud, despite the fact he didn't yet know whom he spoke with.
"Quite sure Artoirel."
"Steph?"
"You wound me brother!" The voice chuckled back. "Have you forgotten me already?"

Artoirel looked to his side. Suddenly, plain as day, Haurchefant sat beside him. He was also clad in his knights armour. His face bore the same crooked smile he always showed when he saw him. His eyes were full of a warmth and kindness that could not be taught. Artoirel had missed him.
"Haurchefant…"
"Nice to see you Art."

"If this isn't death, then where are we? How are you here?" Artoirel asked.
"Somewhere in between I'd say. You're not dead, but right now you're just barely clinging on."
The image of the cliffside flashed to his mind. He could see himself covered in a soft layer of snow lying back against Stephanivien's chest.
"As for me, I'm on my way back. Just popped out to give our sister a helping hand."
"I don't understand?" Artoirel was confused. The vision of the cliffside faded as he turned back to his brother. Haurchefant chuckled again and clapped his shoulder. 
"Someone up there likes us, I was able to come and help when Jefara needed me the most... To save Estinien."
"She saved him?" Artoirel was shocked. "She thought she would have to kill him... The thought broke her heart…"

Atoirel sat there for a moment recalling the way he held her as she cried in his arms,  dreading the final act she would have to perform. Haurchefant watched him curiously. 
"She must be so happy."
"Not even slightly." Haurchefant frowned. "She might have saved him, but it's you she's looking for now."
"Me?" Artoirel gasped. "She's looking for me?"
"Of course she is! She loves you Art. I swear to Halone you are more dense than I remember." Haurchefant shoved Artoirel playfully. "Why do you think I'm here? To stop you from giving up."
He gave Artoirel a moment to register.

"I'm not going to die." Artoirel finally realised.
"Nope. Not today at least." Haurchefant smiled at him again. 
"What about Stephanivien?" Artoirel felt a twinge of panic. 
"He'll live. You know I always thought there was something between you two. I never thought you would actually let yourself be selfish for once."
"Selfish?!" Artoirel baulked. "How is that selfish?"
"Don't mean it in a bad way, Art. Just that you finally started living for yourself."
"Oh.. I guess I did."

A soft glow blossomed in Artoirel’s chest, he was overwhelmed with a warm feeling.
"By the Fury, what is that?"
"Looks like it's time for you to go."
"Go?" Artoirel felt the panic creep up. "Go where?" 
"Back home, back to our family. To your new family."
"Haurchefant.." Artoirel reached out to him. He could feel the weight of his body building again, the cold and then pain returning from his head to his toes. It was almost sickening, Artoirel could feel himself slipping again.

"I've made my peace. I do not regret it."
Haurchefant smiled.
"After all. A knight lives to serve"

With that Haurchefant was gone, Artoirel felt his body back against Stephanivien's. He was no longer floating, instead he landed on a bed of pain before everything went dark.

***

"Artoirel please!" She begged.

Her hands emanated a faint glow as she pressed them to his chest. But nothing happened, the small tendrils of her clemency lingered at the surface. She was too late. She hung her head, unable to cry anymore tears in the frigid wind that surrounded them.

With one last push she threw all her power into the spell. The light grew brighter, the magic pooled again at her fingertips. 
"ARTOIREL!" 
She cried out. Her voice echoing in the ravine. 
Your tesó has moved on little one.
"No!" She snarled back. "No no no!"

"Warrior…" a weak voice reached out.
"Stephanivien!" She gasped. His eyes were tired as he blinked several times. The sound of her screams pulling him back to consciousness.
One yet lives. Vidofnir leant her head towards the machinist from her perch on the cliff. Stephanivien gasped at the sight of her.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner." 
"Shh." He placed his hand over hers still glowing with her attempted healing spell. 
"I'm sorry I could not save him."
She made to pull her hand back, but the magic began to seep through and down into Artoirel's chest. She pushed harder, as much aether as she could muster. 

It was a long moment. As they both watched the Count de Fortemps motionless in the snow. 

And then…

His chest rose, taking in a full deep breath.
"Artoirel?" 
The magic faded, but it was enough. His chest continued to rise and fall steadily.
Your Gods must favour you.
Vidofnir nuzzled Jefara's side gently. She looked at Stephanivien holding onto Artoirel tightly. He sobbed openly, relief flooding through him.

Artoirel was alive. They were both alive.
"Lets get him home, you both still need healing. Can you stand?"
Stephanivien didn't know if he could. He released Artoirel from his grip, willing his legs to move. Slowly, unsteadily holding onto Vidofnir's neck as she supported him he stood. It was a struggle to lift Artoirel's unconscious form. But with the dragon's help they managed to roll him onto her back.

Stephanivien winced in pain as he attempted to swing his leg over as well. He cried out as he tried to put pressure on his wrist. Vidofnir boosted him up and he settled behind Artoirel holding on as tightly as he could.
"You might want to carry me in your claws Vidofnir…" Jefara looked at the space the two elezen occupied. 
If you are sure?
"I've travelled worse."
"Jefara?" Stephanivien called down to her.
"What is it?" She looked up at him.
"Could I ask you to retrieve Fury?" He pointed to the gun lying next to the dead dragon. He felt almost guilty asking her to retrieve the weapon. She nodded, a slight knowing smile on her face before she moved across to pick up the mighty weapon. It was almost the size of her, but she carried it over to Vidofnir's claw grabbing onto her as she prepared to fly back up.

***

"Did ye hear tha'?" Joye looked over the edge.
"Yes.."

The Warrior of Lights screams had reverberated from the depths back up to where Barham and Joye waited nervously.
"His Lordship is really dead then." Joye sniffled.
"It seems so." Bahram nodded grimly. "A shame, the Count was a good man. Jara liked him enormously."
"It won't be the same without them." Joye hung her head and brushed away her tears.

The snow had stopped, the bridge was covered in a light dusting of frost and Barham was beginning to feel the cold through his warm clothes. He leant against the wall, waiting. After a while, the gentle beat of wings came up with the wind. He braced himself and pushed off from the stone, ready to comfort his daughter in her grief. Vidofnir soared up and hovered above the stones. Barham could just see in the dark that the dragon had dropped something from its front claws. There was a clang of metal and the dragon landed with a soft thud.

"Apa! Quickly!" He could hear Jefara shouting. He hurried forward with the lantern shining it up to the person he could see moving on Vidofnir's back. But to his surprise, the light shone on the two elezen, two alive elezen.
"Seven hells…"
Stephanivien was trying to lift Artoirel off, even as the dragon lay herself flat he struggled to put pressure on his broken wrist. Barham rushed forward to where Jefara was trying to help them, his height in comparison making it easier to pull Artoirel's unconscious form and lay him on the stones.

"Yer Lordship! Yer alive!" Joye ran forward helping Stephanivien as he slid ungracefully from the dragon's back to the ground. She threw her arms around his neck.
"Joye." He hugged her weakly.
"I'm sorry milord!" She cried holding onto him. "It wer all my fault!"
"Shh it's okay." He patted her head with his good hand. He looked over to where Artoirel lay, anxiety rising in him as Barham began pulling off the dented pauldron.

"Lánya, I need you to press down here when I lift this." He moved her hands into place. "There will be blood. Until I can seal the wound."
She nodded. Stephanivien reached out to take Artoirel's hand. He felt a rush of relief when Artoirel's fingers twitched in his grip. The pauldron was lifted free and they got to work. Barham poured aether into Artoirel's body, watching as each wound from his head to his leg sealed up and healed. Satisfied that he had done all he could, he turned to Stephanivien.
"Your turn."

Stephanivien felt a rush of warmth. The healing spread to the tips of his toes. He flexed his wrist experimentally. It was stiff, but the pain mercifully was gone. He never let go of Artoirel, his hand firmly secured in his own. 
"He's going to be okay." Barham tried to reassure him. "His wounds are healed, but he needs time to rest."
"Let's get him back home."

***

"Francel, please" Baurendouin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Come away from the window."

Francel turned away looking at his father sheepishly. He was anxious. He knew the Warrior of Light, he had seen her fierce determination up close, he wouldn't let himself rest until she returned. Part of him was convinced no matter what, she would bring his brother home. 

Count Baurendouin sat in a chair by the fire, nursing a large glass of whisky. He stared into the fire, his thoughts reflecting on the failed relationship he had yet been able to repair with his eldest son. He hadn't approved of Stephanivien's life choices. Especially when he had chosen the Manufactory and making guns over becoming a knight and his heir. Now he would never have a chance to tell him that he was proud. No, he was not a knight, but he still defended their city. He still rose to meet the challenges faced, to protect not just the high but lowborn alike. Seeing first hand the skill and dedication Stephanivien had put into his work had permanently altered how he viewed the changing world around him.

But now his son was dead. He would never be able to repair the damage that was done.

The mantle of heir would pass to Aurvael, his next son who slept peacefully on the long couch beside him. Out of his remaining children only Laniaitte had made it upstairs to rest in relative peace, he knew should he go up himself he would find his daughter in his own bed space next to her mother, devastated at the loss of yet another child.

Across the street, Lord Edmont sat, his drink long forgotten on the floor beside his chair. He had long sent Emmanellain to bed when his head began to drift. Honoroit asleep already in his Lord's lap. He sat and stewed in his seat looking at the chronometer on the mantel. The eleventh bell had rung, almost two hours had passed since their return. Neither the Warrior of Light or her father had returned, which could only mean he had not convinced her to return to the manor and rest.

It was too much.
He had barely come to terms with the loss of Haurchefant. Losing Artoirel cut into the wound again, as his heart bled out its sorrow so too did the tears fall down his face. He did not know how he would face the next days, Emmanellain would be in no way ready to take his brother's title, so it would fall back to Edmont, defeating the purpose of him passing it to Artoirel in the first place. Surely now, the flames of doubt on his house would pass and give him the time he needed to ready Emmanellain for the weight of his new role. 

***

"Almost there Art." Stephanivien was short on breath. As much as his wounds were healed he was still exhausted. One of Artoirels arms was slung over his shoulders as he carried him limply through the streets, Barham on the other side bore most of his weight. The Warrior of Light and Joye close behind, the hyuran machinist carrying The Flames of Fury on her back.

They had made it up from the Foundation to the Pillars, just as the snow had begun to fall again, heavier this time. They looked up at the last staircase before they would reach the Last Vigil. Home . Stephanivien felt a twinge of unease, he wanted to stay with Artoirel, to be with him when he woke. He had no right to ask to stay with him without revealing the nature of their relationship. He could not out Artoirel like that while he was incapacitated. Each step grew harder as they climbed. A gentle hand on his back kept him from faltering. He smiled at Joye, ever faithful, and pushed up the last steps.

They approached the Fortemp manor, the guard turning to look at them. When they were close enough to be recognised the guard scampered to the door, they reached the bottom of the entrance steps as the doors were thrown wide open. Lord Edmont stood trembling without his cane to support him, he looked between the five figures standing on his doorstep before he burst into tears.
"Artoirel!" He stumbled forward. "Is he-?"
"Alive. He's alive." 

"Get inside quickly," Edmont stepped aside to let them pass. Stephanivien and Barham carried Artoirel in. Edmont hurried to show them the way to Artoirel's room issuing orders at hisnstaff as then passed. At the top of the stairs, Edmont led them down to a door midway down the hall and opened it. He stepped back to let Barham and Stephanivien pass. Once inside Barham led them towards the bed.

Stephanivien hesitated, he couldn't let go.
"Milord?" Barham tried to move him again but he felt resistance, Stephanivien's grip had tightened. 
"Let's get him on the bed."
If he let go, he would have to leave. He didn't want to leave him. He was scared that he was dreaming, that they were still lying on the cliffside. Scared that Artoirel was dead.
"Stephanivien," a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder. "It's okay son, you're okay."
Edmont looked at him. "He's going to be okay, but you need to let go. He's home. You brought him home."

Taking a shaky breath his grip loosened and Barham took Artoirel away from him.
"Stephanivien?" The machinist's eyes were fixed on Artoirel even as Lord Edmont tugged on his arm. "Thank you."
"I- I-" Stephanivien didn't know how to say what he wanted. I want to stay. 
"Let Master Barham attend to him and make him comfortable. I'm sure your family is anxious to see you are well."

Stephanivien nodded and let Edmont lead him back downstairs. The further away he got from Artoirel, the worse he felt. Edmont could feel him shaking.
"He's going to be okay."

***

Across at the Haillenarte Manor, Francel still held his vigil at the window, despite his father's protests. His head dropped ever so slightly as his fatigue threatened to take over. But a sudden movement caught his sight and his head shot up, he squinted through the glass trying to see through the flurries.

"Steph?!" Francel gasped. He was already on his feet and running to the door. 
"Francel!" His father called after him. But he didn't stop.  
He was sure he had seen Stephanivien, his unmistakable blond hair and machinist armour under the lamplight. Carrying another soldier towards the Fortemp manor. As he pulled open the door to the Haillenarte Manor he could see the group of figures lit up by the open door of Fortemps Manor.

He rushed forward as the figures disappeared through the door. Outside still stood the Warrior of Light and Joye holding the colossal weapon, they turned to him as he approached, startled at his sudden appearance.
"Is it him?" He panted. "Was that Stephanivien?"
"He's okay Francel," Jefara smiled weakly at him, taking his hands comfortingly and squeezing them lightly.
"What about Artoirel?" He grasped her hands returning the gesture.
"He's alive, but he was hurt badly. Really bad."

"Where is my son?" 

Baurendouin came up behind Francel, his cheeks flushed from his hurried rush across the street, Aurvael hot on his heels.
"He's inside milord. Helping in with the Count." Joye offered, dipping her head in respect. 
Baurendouin let out a sigh of relief.
"They're both alive?" Aurvael couldn't believe it. Jefara nodded at him. "Thank the fury!"
"Let's go inside and wait for them. I think I need to sit down." Her legs shook, her exhaustion slammed into her viciously now that she had stopped.
"Joye, please can you wake the Countess?"
"Yes milord."

They all entered the house, the steward showing the present Haillenartes into the receiving room. Jefara sunk to the floor, no energy left in her legs anymore. She began clicking off her armour and piling it on the floor. Francel and Aurvael politely looked away as she stripped. Baurendouin scowled lightly at the display but his annoyance was overshadowed by the fact she had saved his son. He was grateful for her, even if she acted undignified at times. His attention turned to the tray of tea that had just been brought in and served. Shortly after, there was a light knock on the door and in came the Countess followed by Laniaitte.

"Is it true?" She crossed the room to her husband.
He rose to meet her, pulling her into his arms.
"It is my love," he held her close. "It's true."
"Both of them?" Laniaitte followed her mother in looking at her brothers. Her eyes landed on the Warrior of Light sitting on the floor. She stared incredulously at the dishevelled auri currently sitting in just her under armour. A pile of broken armour littering the floor by the fire.
"Halone forgive me for doubting you!" She held back tears.
"We all doubted ger Laniaitte, not just you." Baurendouin. "I should stop misjudging you, Warrior."

She nodded, how often she had heard similar sentiments. Perhaps that added to her stubbornness.
"I did tell you not to underestimate her father."

"Steph!" "Oh my son!" "Stephanivien!"
His family rushed to him. His mother pulled him into the tightest embrace she could muster. Edmont stepped aside from where he had entered the room beside him. He sat on a sofa and took a fresh cup from the tray. 
"Thank you Jara. I don't think I could ever repay what you did today."
"You don't have to repay me. I love you both dearly, you've been good to me."
Edmont took a large soothing drink of tea and allowed himself to relax.

"Mistress?" Stephanivien came towards her his family no longer fussing so desperately about him. "I also wish to thank you." 
She smiled at him, "Not at all. I am just glad to see you both safe and home." 
"Speaking of, we should leave and return to our own and not trespass on Edmont's doors any longer." Baurendouin called across the room.

Edmont looked at Stephanivien, seeing the same expression he wore when in Artoirel’s room. He took another sip of tea.
"Perhaps Stephanivien would care to take a guest room here?" 
The machinist's head snapped to him.
"Edmont?" Baurendouin looked at him.
"Artoirel, I am sure, would be grateful to have Stephanivien there when he wakes."
"Lord Edmont I-?" Stephanivien stumbled on his words feeling at a loss.
"It is no imposition to me. I have seen first hand how disoriented a soldier can be after waking from the field. I am sure you are eager to see him well too?" He turned and looked up at the machinist.

Stephanivien's hand balled into tight fists. His nails digging into the palm. He tried to relax, and looked up at his father fearing still he would be forced to leave with them.
"That won't be an issue," the Countess smiled warmly. "Come darling, children. We should all get some rest now."
"Very well, Miss Joye can arrange for some things to be sent over for you." 
"Thank you father, mother."

"Good, that is settled then. Shall we retire?" Edmont drained his cup. He held a hand down to Jefara to help her up before following the Haillenartes to the hall.
Barham met them at the stairs, looking at his daughter, he swept her up the stairs scowling at the evident injuries she had been ignoring. 

Stephanivien was left alone with Lord Edmont. They climbed the rest of the steps in silence. As they reached the door to Artoirel's room, Edmont turned to Stephanivien.

"You may stay in Artoirel's room if you desire." The statement froze the machinist in his steps.
"My Lord?" 
"I merely offered the guest room for appearance sake, I wager you have not revealed your relationship to your father at all."
"How-?" Stephanivien was at a loss for words again.
"Artoirel told me the truth of it, not a few nights ago." Stephanivien sucked in a breath, "and I could see how you looked at him, when you thought you would have to leave him. None of my staff will say a word. I'll have your things sent up when they arrive. Now I should wake Emmanellain and tell him the news."

"Thank you," Stephanivien fought back tears of gratitude as Edmont took off down the hallway to the next door.
"Oh and one last thing."
"My Lord?"
"Should your father disapprove, you will have a home under my roof as long as you would want for it."
Tears slid silently down his face. He had never expected such an offer to be made. To have Lord Edmont accept him so readily was almost too much to end this night. He nodded, and wiped the tears away.
"Thank you Lord Edmont," he managed.
"Edmont," he corrected. "You are family now."

"Thank you… Edmont."

Chapter Text

It was early morning, the long chronometer in the corner chimed half past the hour. The sky outside was still dark. Stepanivien had fallen into a deep sleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow. His hair damp from his hurried bath, he had scrubbed as much of the grime off as he could before pulling on a pair of soft pants that had been delivered from his own wardrobe. He climbed onto the bed next to Artoirel watching his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. He lay down beside him and draped his arm over his chest, reassuring himself that both he and Artoirel were there.

Which is how Artoirel found himself. His eyes were heavy still with exhaustion as they peaked open slightly, his vision blurred and struggling in the miniscule light. He groaned as he tried to move his head, a deep ache permeated through him. He tried instead to lift his hands but was met with a similar resistance.
Beside him he heard a soft grunt, followed by a release of pressure that had been resting on his chest.

An arm surrounded and pulled him in tightly moving from where it had lain across his chest to his stomach. It was warm and firm around him. He couldn't turn his head to see who lay with him, but he felt lips at his neck and the unmistakable smell of oil and gunpowder that lingered on Stephanivien's skin. His eyes closed again and he drifted off.

***

Knock knock.

The door opened slowly, Edmont pushing it gently as he peeked his head around the door.

Stephanivien sat in a chair by the bed, fidgeting with a small box on his lap. He looked up as the door opened and offered Edmont a small smile.
"I'm surprised to see you awake so early?"
Stephanivien looked exhausted still, his brow furrowed with worry.

"I woke up thinking I was still on the cliff. It took me a moment to realise where I actually was." His eyes remained fixed on the box in his hands. Edmont tilted his head with concern. 
"Sadly once I'm awake, I'm awake."
"You both have that in common." Edmont perched on the side of the bed.
"I'm worried he won't wake Edmont."
"I am too, but Master Barham assures he just needs time to let his body heal. You both need to heal. War leaves its mark. In more ways than one."

Stephanivien nodded, he took a deep calming breath.
"Has anyone brought you breakfast?"
"Ahh no, I thought it too early to disturb your staff." Stephanivien looked slightly sheepish as Edmont looked at with a raised brow.
"Nonsense I am oft awake at this hour so do not hesitate to call for any refreshments." Edmont brushed the hair back off Artoirel's face affectionately. "I'll have someone send up a tray for you."
"That would be most gracious of you. Thank you."
"Not at all, I will return when I have dealt with any pressing matters that require Artoirel's attention."

***

Wake up. Artoirel was vaguely aware of the voices around him. But he couldn't open his eyes. He tried to move his fingers, toes, anything. But still his energy failed him. He could hear Stephanivien's voice plainly beside him. The other took him a while to place. Father. Come on Artoirel, wake up. Fingers brushed his hair softly and then he was dreaming again.

***

Stephanivien hated waiting.

His impatience was perhaps his biggest vice. Ever since he was a child, he had to be doing something, always on the move. Only ever slowing down when he was asleep or if he was in the presence of Artoirel de Fortemps. The young Lord's presence always seemed to have a calming effect on Stephanivien. His parents often pushed them together in the hopes that Stephanivien would become more sensible. 

All they had done was help their eldest son fall in love. It had started as a mere crush, entering in their teenage years, blossoming into more as they simultaneously reached their growth spurts. Artoirel only lasted a few months as the taller before Stephanivien reached his peak height. Where Artoirel kept a slender build, Stephanivien filled out across his arms and chest, a product of his desire to work harder manual labour in the Manufactory. 

He could never pinpoint the moment he knew he was in love with him. It had grown and built so gradually over the years that he just knew . But knowing that he loved Artoirel wasn't enough, because he was Artoirel de Fortemps l, the diligent son ready to rise to his rank and duty. Stephanivien knew that his love would be forever one-sided, doomed to watch him marry and have heirs. It was the very life Stephanivien was being forced to follow, he couldn't take it, he couldn't suffer the same life.

Thankfully he had found his out, he could build and create things from nothing. Hiding away in the Manufactory helped him to avoid seeing him. Skipping all the fancy parties and social niceties until his father eventually gave up on him. He even tried to bury himself in a string of lovers, but nothing could satisfy, nothing would fill the ache that grew in his chest. Until…

"I'm afraid that if I turn around right now you won't kiss me…"

One simple sentence to unravel him entirely and after a lifetime of yearning, Stephanivien couldn't bear the thought of losing him now. If only he would give him a sign, something, anything to let him know he was okay.

He grasped Artoirel's hand from his perch on the bed, sighing deeply before returning to his chair. He picked up a small metal cube and pulled over a soft leather case. Inside several intricate tools used for tuning a multitude of machines. Stephanivien reminded himself to thank Joye for the thoughtfulness of sending it over. He lost himself momentarily as he began the process of adjusting the contraption.

"How is he?" Emmanellain poked his head around the door. He could see Lord Stephanivien sitting between the window and the wall, several small intricate tools in his hand, one he even noted had been pushed through the band of his ponytail. Stephanivien looked up and removed the gear that he had held between his teeth to free his hands. He placed the box he had been working on into his lap.

"He still sleeps." He answered, sighing disappointedly. Looking over at his brother. Emmanellain could see how still he looked.
"Francel was here earlier. Father said not to disturb you though. Are you going to stay as long as it takes for him to wake up?"

"As long as your father doesn't mind. Yes"
Emmanellain looked between the two elezen.
"I didn't  think you were friends anymore?" Emmanellain was hovering. He was curious about the relationship between them. He knew all the comings and going on's in Ishgard, but as far as he knew Artoirel and Stephanivien hadn’t spoken in years, now here he was, keeping an unrelenting vigil at his bedside. Something was going on that Emmanellain didn't know, and that was not sitting well with him.
"We started talking again recently. After Lord Haurchefant's passing."
"Oh.." Emmanellain looked almost embarrassed, something held him back from continuing his questioning. Stephanivien looked at him quizzically, Emmanellain felt like he was looking straight through him.
"What do you really want to ask?" Stephanivien knew he had hit the mark when Emmanellain baulked.
"Are you in love with him?" He spluttered out after a second.

"Emmanellain." A voice came from the doorway. The youngest Frotemps son spun around to meet his father’s stern gaze. He knew that look, he was about to be told off for something he didn't think he deserved.
"I was only asking? Why else would he still be here?" He began his fruitless protest.
"Let your brother rest. And go and take the food packages up to the infirmary for Jara and Master Alphinaud.” Edmont stepped aside to allow Emmanellain to leave the room.
"But-" Emmanellain tried to object.
"No buts." Edmont tapped his cane with a warning. "And do not go gossiping about things you do not know. If I hear a single word or rumour regarding Artoirel and Stephanivien I will see to it you are sent to a far outpost without Honoroit for the next 5 years.”
"Yes father." The young Lord fled down the hall, his ears tinged pink at his scolding.

"Apologies Stephanivien, Emmanellain is less than tactful as you know." Edmont sat at the foot of Artoirel's bed. “I hope he can hold his tongue, otherwise even the Fury won’t help where I send him.”
"Indeed.” Stephanivien nodded with a grateful smile. “Any news of Ser Estinien?"
"He is also yet to wake, Master Alphinaud and Jefara have not left his side. And from what I hear the Lord Commander himself is there daily, when not putting the city back together."
"I should be out there helping too." Stephanivien’s shoulders dropped.
"Nonsense, you have not recovered. Ishgard will not repair Herself in a day. You will yet have time to aid in Her restoration."  

"I hope so, I find being idle is not a strong point of mine." Stephanivien chuckled dryly.
"That I had noticed. May I?"
Edmont held his hand towards the box sitting in Stephanivien's lap. The machinist picked up the contraption and passed it over to Edmont who eyed it with an air of curiosity.

"What is it? I saw it early and was quite curious." He turned it over in his hands. There were gears and cogs of a multitude of different placements on each of its six sides. Edmont had no idea what its function could be.
"It's nothing." Stephanivien answered. "It has no purpose, save to keep me busy."
"Oh?" Edmont observed it again, seeing now how the components were removable in places. 
"The gears move about and the pegs that hold them, I just take it apart and put it back together again. Over and over."
"Is that all?" Edmont nodded, quite impressed by the little thing. "That sounds ingenious to one like yourself. I recall your lack of sitting still when you were a child."

Stephanivien chuckled lightly, recalling the amount of times he had been scolded at an event by his father. Usually by the Countess de Fortemps for attempting to drag Artoirel along with him.
"That hasn't changed. Don't think it ever will."
"I should hope not. Oh. That's it." To Stephanivien's surprise Edmont rose suddenly to his feet. He passed by the slightly bewildered machinist and pulled open the top drawer beside Artoirel’s bed. 
"Where did he put it?" he muttered, not finding what he was looking for he shut the drawer and moved to the next one down.

"Aha!" Edmont rose triumphantly and closed the middle drawer turning back to Stephanivien. "I thought it looked familiar."
He held out his hand to the machinist, in his hand he held a similar box to the one Stephanivien had been tinkering with. Only this one was devoid of the gears and mechanisms, at least visibly on the outside.
"Is that.." Stephanivien stared at the box as Edmont passed it to him, he recognised it instantly, his hands trembling slightly as he turned it over. "... He kept it."
"I take it it was your handy work?" Edmont sat again.
"Yea.. " Stephanivien's fingers found the key on the side, he gentle twisted to wind the mechanism.

Nothing happened.
He twisted it again, but still the machine did not come to life.
"It's broken." Stephanivien said sadly. "But he still kept it?"
"He did, perhaps it's repairable?" Edmont suggested standing to leave. Stephanivien looked at the box, if Artoirel had kept it all this time it obviously meant something to him. He repositioned himself comfortably in the chair, pulling his tool case towards him. His focus shifting completely to the task at hand he didn't even notice when Edmont slipped out, a smile on his face.

***

"A gift? For me?"

The young elezen stood, hands outstretched holding a box wrapped slightly messily with green and red paper. A slight blush tinged his cheeks partially hidden by the curtain of blonde hair that framed his face.
"I made it for you." Young Stephanivien muttered shyly, motioning the gift towards the smaller boy.
"You made it?" Artoirel took the gift and neatly slipped the wrapping paper open. He opened the box and lifted out what looked like a small metal cube with a gold key sticking out the front.

The box was roughly made, it was scuffed slightly where the metal had been sanded but not finished. Clear indicators of the unrefined skill that had made it. With excitement Artoirel wound the key, it turned gently until he felt the gear resist.
He released the crank and it began to turn back. The machine came to life in Artoirel’s hand.

"Oh! This song!" Artoirel gasped, a soft tune emanated from what he now realised was a music box. Artoirel knee the piece instantly, one he often found himself singing. He began to hum along with it.
"I know it's your favourite." Stephanivien smiled brightly, the breath he had been holding finally released. His fears that the box would not work or the young Lord would not like it evaporated as he saw the pure joy on Artoirel's face.
"I love it! Thank you Stephanivien." He smiled brightly at the other boy.

"When are you going to call me Steph?"
Stephanivien fidgeted slightly with the stiff shirt he had been forced into for the evening’s festivities. 
"I- I  thought only your siblings were allowed to call you that?" Artoirel held the box to his chest, its song muffled slightly in his clasped hands. Stephanivien blushed again looking at his feet.
"Decided to let you too…" he mumbled nervously.
Artoirel reached out with his free hand, his fingertips softly brushing over Stephanivien's own that tugged on his shirt. The other boy sucked in a breath looking down at Artoirel as he stepped in closer, his hand releasing his shirt to let their hands entwine.

"Thank you… Steph."
They stood there for a moment, hand in hand, listening to the remnants of the tune as the box wound down. Artoirel felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Stephanivien's hand felt warm against his own. A soft breeze blew around them, finding them in the hidden alcove of the Fortemps garden. Stars twinkled above them in the night sky as they stood, inching closer and closer together.

"Artoirel?!" A shrill voice split the peaceful evening air. "Where are you?!"
Artoirel jumped back in fear, letting go of Stephanivien's hand at the sound of his mother's voice.
"Coming mother!" He answered dutifully, looking around to see if The Countess had seen them.

He hesitated slightly as he began to walk away, before turning back to Stephanivien. He hurriedly closed the distance again, reaching up on his tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on the started boy's lips before running to where his mother was waiting for him.

"There you are, son." She looked at him with a stern expression, he swiftly hid the music box inside his housecoat pocket knowing if she saw it she would surely remove it from his possession.
"I've told you before about sneaking off with that boy. Future Count or not, you are thirteen now, it's time you learnt some responsibilities."
"Yes mother." Artoirel looked at his feet as she scolded him.
"Now come, the rest of your guests are waiting. It's time for your nameday cake."

Stephanivien watched as Artoirel was lea back in the house, turning back to look at him as his mother guided him back to the party. His fingers traced his lips, still tingling from the small kiss Artoirel had given him. He waited another moment for his heartbeat to calm before he reentered the house.

***

Artoirel was dreaming, swimming in his memories of his teenage years. His thoughts turned back to his thirteenth nameday. Was it because he was thinking of Stephanivien and the first kiss they shared? Or was it the sound of music? The melody of the music box had been his only comfort after he had been sent away to train as a Knight.

At his mothers insistence he had been sent away to train. Told the morning after his nameday celebration, he was promptly packed and travelling with his father to the camp at Falcon's Nest. Barely returning to Ishgard for more than a few weeks at a time until he was seventeen summers. His father would visit him often, usually dragging Emmanellain along under protest if he could get him unattached from their mother. 

One such visit on his own his father had discovered the music box left by his bedside and complemented the thoughtfulness of the gift. He enjoyed the sound it had made as he allowed Artoirel to play it for him in full. He never told him who made it, but Edmont could make an educated guess. He knew that his wife disapproved of the relationship Artoirel had shared with Stephanivien, and seeing Artoirel away from Ishgard and subsequently the eldest Haillenarte son had caused him to become distant and melancholy almost. Artoirel felt lonely, missing the small measure of joy brought to him by his only friend.

When Artoirel returned finally to Ishgard properly, his mother had achieved her goal. With Stephanivien securing himself inside the Manufactory and Artoirel as a Knight, their paths would rarely collide save for a few social events. By the time she had passed and both boys had hit their growths, Stephanivien had stopped even attending them. Their only interactions were passing in the street or as they attended mass, with barely anything more than a hello.

How Artoirel had missed him. His only comfort lay in the music box. 
Until the day it suddenly stopped.

He couldn't just ask for it to be fixed. After years of silence, how could he just walk up to him and ask for it to be repaired? Would Stephanivien even want to speak to him again? Would he laugh at the fact he kept such a silly sentimental thing? Everytime he thought of going to see him, he could always hear his mother's voice in his head. Be responsible. Set an example. You are to become the next Count and must act like one. His duty was his life now. There was no room for anything else.

Until he met Jara, despite the way he received her initially, she had become a fierce friend and after some time he began to think of her like a sister. As she wriggled into his life, she opened him up to repairing the relationship with his half brother and caused him to collide back with the machinist he yearned for once more. The small meeting had occurred outside the Manufactory as Francel de Haillenarte introduced the Warrior of Light to his eldest brother Stephanivien with pride. He had smiled warmly at Artoirel as if nothing had ever happened, as if the last 17 years had not happened. 

He pulled out the music box that night hoping and praying to Halone that he would have the courage to open that door again; to see Stephanivien again, but as Haurchefant’s untimely passing came, the box lay forgotten again in his drawer. Perhaps now when he woke, he would bring it out, show it to Stephanivien and have it restored.

How he would love to hear it again. Just once more. He let his mind replay it to him now, the sweet tune growing louder as he thought more of it.

"It works!" He heard a voice. 
Wait.
Artoirel was suddenly aware of how heavy he felt again. His limbs aching, and he felt discomfort and hunger.
"It works…" this time the voice sounded relieved.

Artoirel could hear the soft tune playing from the music box. The actual music box, not a conjuring of his sleep-hazed mind. 
"I hope you can hear it Art." He felt a hand in his. Stephanivien. "Please, wake up soon."
The hand squeezed his affectionately..

"I miss you…"

Artoirel wanted to grasp his hand, he willed it to move. To let Stephanivien know he could hear him, he wanted so desperately to see him, to look in those blue eyes and see him smiling down at him. But all he could see was worry on his beloved's face, not a smile. Artoirel was confused, unsure why his brain would show him such an unhappy image.

Wait…
"Art?"

Chapter Text

"Master Barham! Thank goodness!" 
The auri had just stepped through the door to Fortemps Manor, shrugging his coat wearily from his shoulders, when a servant approached him frantically.
"Is aught amiss?"
"His Lordship is awake!" She exclaimed with a mix of joy and urgency. "They just sent a runner for you, but you must have missed it!"
"I am here now thank you. I'll go straight up."

Barham took to the stairs quickly, when he reached the door to Artoirel's room he knocked lightly before letting himself in.
The Count was indeed awake, propped up slightly by Lord Stephanivien as a glass of water was pressed to his lips. Good. Barham thought. He knew Count Artoirel would be famished beyond belief, he looked to the serving girl who had followed him up.
"Can you see that a meal is brought up, porridge or soup? Something he can eat easily." The servant bowed and ran off down the hall.

Barham turned up his sleeves and rolled his shoulders, he did a mental calculation on his remaining aether, already wrung low from his efforts in the infirmary assisting the many chirurgeons, but he had enough left, hopefully Artoirel wouldn't need too much.
"How are we feeling, milord?" He asked and motioned for Stephanivien to step aside.
Artoirel opened his mouth to speak utter no more than a weak croak, no words came out. Barham nodded unsurprised, with how close the Count had been to death he was amazed at what little energy he was able to muster.
"That's understandable," he looked down at his body. "Can you move anything?"

Stephanivien watched as Barham began routinely checking him. He perched at the foot of the bed leaning against the bedpost next to Lord Edmont. Edmont patted his arm comfortingly as he fidgeted from foot to foot.
"Alright. Let's get some more aether in you, enough so that you can move on your own at least and get some food in you." 
Barham arranged himself on the side of the bed, reaching a hand over Artoirel's chest. He too a breath, his hand glowed faintly as the healing magic released and sank into the Count.

Artoirel could feel the warmth spreading down his limbs, the heavy ache finally beginning to subside. He flexed his fingers experimentally, they moved to his relief, exactly how he told them to.
"That's a good start, how about you lift that arm?"
It was an effort at first, but he brought it up to his chest. "Excellent. Would you like to try sitting up?"
Artoirel nodded. Barham smiled as he helped Artoirel shuffle up and back against the headboard. He groaned slightly but gave a weak smile as he settled.
"Let's hear that voice now. Can you tell me your name?"
"A-Ar-Artoirel de Fortemps" he managed after a few attempts. His throat was still dry.
"Very good." Barham looked around. "Lord Stephanivien, do you have that water?"

Stephanivien jumped up and grabbed the glass from the fireplace where he'd placed it, filling it again. He passed it over to the auri, hovering behind him as Artoirel took the glass and drank deeply. He noticed a slight tremble to Artoirel's hand as he lowered the glass into his lap. 
"Well, that's my work done. The rest is up to you. Your aether will rebuild as you eat and rest, I'd recommend bed rest for the rest of the evening. We can see about getting you up and about in the morning once you've had some proper sleep."

There was a soft knock at the door which Lord Edmont moved to answer, the serving girl entered carrying a tray of food.
"Good timing," Edmont smiled as the girl set down the tray on the side. She dipped a curtsey towards her masters before leaving again. Barham stood to follow. 
"You're probably hungry."
"Starving," Artoirel said, his stomach growling in confirmation.
"Make sure he eats the whole bowl." He clasped Stephanivien's shoulder as he got up and walked towards Edmont. "He's in your charge now milord, see to it he doesn't do anything but eat and sleeps."
"Thank you Master Barham," Stephanivien smiled gratefully.

"Shall we go to dinner ourselves Lord Edmont and leave them to it."
"Lead the way my friend." Edmont reached over to grasp Artoirel's hand affectionately. "It's good to have you with us again. I will return in the morning. Take care of him son." he nodded to Stephanivien and the older gentleman left the room.

Once the door was shut Stephanivien was climbing on the side of the bed and pulling Artoirel into his arms.
"Thank the Fury."
"Steph," Artoirel's arms came around his waist.
"I was so scared I was losing you again."
The machinist held him as tightly as he dared, scared that he might crush him.
"You stayed…" Stephanivien felt the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder grow damp.
"I'm not letting you go ever again, I already made that mistake once. I won't do it again"

Stephanivien released Artoirel from his grasp and took his face gently between his hands. Artoirel looked pale, it broke his heart slightly to see him so. He brought him into a soft lingering kiss, one he hoped conveyed all the feelings he felt for Artoirel. His love, passion, desire and gratefulness that they were alive and together once more.
"Steph.. I-"
Artoirel's stomach growled. Stephanivien chuckled, wiping some of the fresh tears from Artoirel's eyes with his thumb.
"You need to eat."

Stephanivien stood, turning to the tray that had been left, pleased to see that it contained a tureen of soup, two bowls and several bread rolls. He loaded the first bowl and took it to Artoirel, the Count rubbed the remaining tears away from his eyes with the sleeve of his bed shirt before taking the bowl. Grabbing his own and the plate of rolls he settled on the other side of the bed. They ate in silence, Stephanivien's eyes never left Artoirel, he smiled gently and reached up to wipe a splash of soup from the corner of Artoirel's mouth.
"Huh-?" Artoirel startled slightly as Stephanivien's lips replaced his thumb kissing the corner of his mouth. "Oh.."
"Are you done eating?" Stephanivien motioned to the bowl in Artoirel’s lap.
"Yea, I want to go and freshen up."
"Think you can manage on your own?" Stephanivien lifted the bowl from him and took them both back to the tray. He held out his hand to Artoirel as he pushed down the covers starting to swing his legs down.

He took Stephanivien's hand and shakily stood. He swayed for a moment on his feet before letting go of the machinist's hand.
"I think so."
He took a tentative step, grimacing as he put weight on his leg. His knee nearly buckled. Stephanivien instantly reached out to catch and steady him.
"It's okay, I just didn't expect that."
"Are you sure?"
Artoirel took another step this time braced for the pressure.
"Yes, thank you." He hobbled to the door and into the bathroom. Stephanivien watched him go worried, but he knew Artoirel had been through a lot. He shouldn't expect him to be back to normal right away. He sat back on the edge of the bed, picking up the music box from where he had accidentally dropped it earlier. He checked it over making sure his work had not been undone when it had hit the floor.

He wound it up again, smiling. He hoped that Artoirel would be pleased with it. The soft trill filled the air, and after a moment Stephanivien heard the sharp open of the washroom door. He turned to see Artoirel looking at him wide eyed.
"Impossible…"
"Not quite, only a few loose gears." Stephanivien held out the box as Artoirel hobbled as quickly as he could towards him. He sat next to Stephanivien taking the music box in hand. Artoirel sat listening as the music played, Stephanivien could see his bottom lip quivering, trying desperately not to cry again.

"When did it stop?"
Artoirel's head dropped. Stephanivien worried for a moment that he would not answer. He took a breath and blinked back the wetness in his eyes.
"Mother had not long passed, and you had stopped attending any social events. I used to listen to it every day. It was my one comfort, the memory of that night always sat with me."

Artoirel sighed. Stephanivien felt his own sadness wash over him. He remembered that time only too well. 
"When I found out I was being sent away, I tried to come see you. To tell you, but I was being packed and sent off as soon as my breakfast was done. They only let me write home, everything else was forbidden. I missed you so much and I couldn't speak to you to tell you that."

"I was mad. I screamed at the Countess until my father dragged me back across the street." Artoirel gasped. He didn't know that had happened. "But I knew I just had to wait them out, and then you would be back and we could be together." Stephanivien ran his hands through his hair pulling it loose, the golden strands falling down his back as he shook away the memory.

"But you weren't there when I got back, I tried at every event to speak to you. But as soon as I shook whoever was tailing me you were gone." Artoirel couldn't help the tears welling in his eyes as he recalled his painful memories. "I started to think that you hated me, that kissing you was a mistake."

"Art…" Stephanivien wiped a stray tear from Artoirel's cheek. "I didn't want to. But I had to..."
Art turned to look at him, his eyes brimming still with tears.  
"Your mother," Stephanivien choked back his own pain. "She was bragging to my mum about how many suitors she lined up for you. How you'd be married within the year now you were of age..."

Stephanivien dropped his head and covered his face, hiding his hurt.
"It was then I realised no matter what you would never be mine. You were going to marry, and have children. Be a good dutiful son. Everything I couldn't be… everything I couldn't be to you..."

"It broke my heart." He blinked away the tears that broke through. "I couldn't do it Art, I couldn't sit there and watch you courting. It's why I ran away from you, I had to drown you out. Fury. I'm not proud of the things I did or the people I tried to distract myself with." Stephanivien took a breath and steadied himself. It was oddly relieving to finally say these things.
"After the last asshole I swore off all drink and sex. Until the night I drank with you."

Artoirel listened intently, the pieces all sliding into place. He huffed out a half laugh. How foolish he had been.
"I never actually courted anyone… " Artoirel took his hand. "Every woman she put in front of me, they never felt right..."
Stephanivien squeezed his hand back.
"..They weren't you…" 

Artoirel leant on Stephanivien's shoulder. Inhaling a deep breath, letting the smell of machine oil and gunpowder fill him. He felt Stephanivien's head lean down to rest on his, their fingers now laced together.
"You never stopped loving me." Stephanivien said, realisation enough in him now to not have to question it.
"And neither did you." Artoirel brushed the last tears away, the tension in his body seeping out.

"I waited each day dreading the announcement that would crush my heart forever." Stephanivien leant in and kissed his hair.
"I don't know how many times I thought about coming to see you." Artoirel's voice was calmer now. "I had always hoped that if I brought you the box you could have fixed it. And maybe we could be friends again..."
He grasped Stephanivien's hand again, his thumb making soft movements across the machinists. 
"I put it away, hoping that my feelings would fade over time. But they never did. The day I saw you, when Francel introduced you to Jara, I knew they'd never go away..."
He turned his hand over and traced along all the deep calluses and scars that littered Stephanivien's skin. The movement calming as he continued to talk.
"She saw right through me, if a complete stranger could see it, I knew then that it would never end."

"It took all my effort to not look just at you. I wanted to drag you into an alley and kiss you till you begged me for more." 
Stephanivien's hand slid onto Artoirel's thigh and squeezed it gently. "You were already the subject of my desires, after that day you were on my mind both waking and asleep."

The hand slid up Artoirel's thigh, the Count gasped softly. "When I saw the desire on your face, when you came to my office. I knew I had to try, to claim what should have been mine."
Artoirel moaned, Stephanivien had brought his other hand up to his neck, tilting it at just the right angle to graze his teeth across the skin he found.
"Tell me, how many of the times you came to 'check on the relief plans' were you just coming to see me?"
Artoirel's breath caught in his throat, Stephanivien lightly brushed over his crotch.
"Almost all…" he gasped. "... I wanted to breach the gap but- Ahhh. But I couldn't- I couldn't-"

Stephanivien delighted in the moans Artoirel made, each one becoming more desperate as he kissed his neck and stroked his leg.
"Then finally I caught you," Stephanivien nibbled at his shoulder, licking carefully across the newest scar that had formed there. 
"You were playing with me.." Artoirel's skin tingled.
"Yes." Another lick.
"You knew that I wanted you." He moaned.
"I still had my fears that you would run away. But you didn't. You stayed."
"I wanted you so badly…"
"You surprised me, so desperate and needy. Begging for me to fill you."
Artoirel felt his skin flush red. He knew he shouldn't want this right now. Even with the food he had consumed he was nowhere near being well enough. But his body responded otherwise, it was desperate to feel Stephanivien's body against him again. 

"You want me to fill you now, don't you?" Artoirel could feel Stephanivien's smirk against his skin. His grip on the machinist's hand tightened, Stephanivien's other hand dangerously close to Artoirel's hips, and he was becoming painfully aware now of how hard his erection was, the soft fabric tenting around his swollen cock.

"You are not even recovered and you're begging for sex?"
Despite his flush, Artoirel didn't feel shame, not anymore. He knew exactly what he wanted. Who he wanted.
"Please… I've waited long enough!" Artoirel whined, Stephanivien grasped his cock over the fabric. 
"Come here then."

With Stephanivien's help, Artoirel climbed into the machinist's lap. They looked at each other for a moment, basking in nothing more than the fact that they were here. Alive. Together. 
Mouths crashed together, now that all had been said, there was nothing else left but the raw emotion that had been building up between them. Emotions that had bubbled over the surface as Artoirel kissed Stephanivien deeply. 
He loves me. Artoirel's hands grasped at the hard muscles of Stephanivien's shoulders. I love him. 

Stephanivien ran his hands down Artoirel's back, savouring the shiver that the Count gave as he reached his behind. He grabbed at the soft flesh and pulled Artoirel flush against him.
"Agh!" He cried out. Stephanivien flinched, he loosened his grip on Artoirel who shook slightly above him.
"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"
"No-" Artoirel grimaced pain shooting through his thigh, "My leg…"

With great care Stephanivien lifted Artoirel from his lap and laid him down back on his soft pillows.
"Show me where it hurts?" Stephanivien knelt between his legs, concern on his face. 
"Here…" Artoirel's voice was barely more than a whisper as he touched the part of his leg that ached the most.
Stephanivien nodded and pulled off his shirt. Artoirel swallowed hard, the sight of the machinists chiselled pecs was enough to banish any thoughts of pain from his mind. Especially with his hair down as it was now, the golden strands framing his shoulders, bouncing with the flickering light of the candles on the dresser.

"Let's take these off." Stephanivien's fingers ran up his hip and under his shirt, Artoirel's breath hitched as skin met skin.
He nodded, too struck by the vision in front of him to form any words. Stephanivien smirked at him, working the fabric of the shirt up his chest, leaning in closer as he did. He tugged Artoirel forward encouragingly, capturing him in a short chaste kiss before bringing the shirt over Artoirel's head.

The count's cock, diminished slightly by the pain, began to rise again as Stephanivien's fingers trailed down his chest to the band of his pants. Artoirel raised his hips gently, as much as he could. The machinist slid a hand beneath him, supporting his weight, the muscles of his arm flexing slightly. Artoirel reached a hand up to touch it, moaning softly as he felt them ripple beneath his fingers. Stephanivien chuckled lightly, his other hand gripping the top of Artoirel's pants and starting to slowly drag them down his lover's legs.

He lowered Artoirel back down gently, he was beautiful, flushed lightly and bathed in the light, Stephanivien caught his breath for a moment.
"So, here?" Ignoring Artoirel's twitching cock, the machinist placed his hands on his thigh. 
Artoirel let out a sharp gasp. "Y-yes."
Stephanivien stroked the skin slowly, starting at his knee, he pressed down firmly as his hands moved up to his hip.
Artoirel moaned, his back arching off the bed and Stephanivien continued to work his hands up and down his legs. 
"How does that feel?" Stephanivien asked, looking up to see the blissful look on Artoirel's face. 
"Go-ood" the Count cried out as he ran his hand up again squeezing the muscles.
"Looks like something else is begging for my attention, eh?"

Artoirel flushed a deeper red, watching as Stephanivien settled down further between his legs. The machinist left a trail of soft kisses up his inner thigh, not stopping when he reached his weeping cock which twitched impatiently as he continued up the shaft and to the head.
"Steph… please…" Artoirel whined.
"So needy…" Stephanivien smirked, his eyes not leaving the Count's face as he opened his mouth to take the tip.
"Hnngh," Artoirel raised off the bed again, pushing his cock further into Stephanivien's mouth, the machinist held still sucking lightly until he settled again and continued down. Artoirel groaned, he could see what Stephanivien was doing, deliberately keeping things slow for him.

It was maddening but Stephanivien adored the way Artoirel trembled beneath him, the Count responding to each touch as he licked and sucked, his hand continuing to rub his wounded leg. He set a steady pace, dragging his tongue up the bottom of Artoirel's cock before sucking it deep into his throat. He was in no rush, determined to bring Artoirel the sweetest pleasure he could offer, and the Count was losing it. He writhed beneath Stephanivien, lost to the languid pace and how close he was getting, but it wasn't enough, Artoirel needed more. His fingers laced into Stephanivien's hair urging him to go faster. He groaned frustratedly when he met resistance.

The machinist pulled off of him completely.
"Impatient are we?" He grinned licking up Artoirel's shaft teasingly.
"Steph.." he whined. "Please…"
"We shouldn't even be doing this." Stephanivien chided him. Artoirel grumbled with annoyance and swatted him playfully.
Stephanivien gave him a few more teasing strokes with his tongue, making them as deliberately slow as he could. When Artoirel keened again he stopped.
"Alright then, enough teasing. Roll onto your side."
"My side?" 
"So we don't hurt this leg any more."
"Oh.."

Guided by Stephanivien, Artoirel rolled onto his side. He heard the rustle of fabric as the machinist finally removed his own trousers, Stephanivien sighed in relief as his own painfully erect cock sprung free. 
"Oil?" He asked, trailing a hand along Artoirel's thigh, squeezing the flesh of his bottom playfully.
"Bottom drawer" Artoirel's voice had lowered, he was unable to hide the desire laced in his words. "At the back."
Stephanivien rummaged for a moment before returning to the bed. Pulling one of the pillows from the chaise at the foot of the bed. He propped the pillow under Artoirel's knee, raising it slightly, he stroked his leg delicately.

"How is that?" He whispered into Artoirel's ear as he lay down behind him. "Comfortable?"
"Ye-yes." The Count moaned, leaning his head back against Stephanivien who half tucked him under his chin. He shuffled close and pressed the hard length of his cock against Artoirel's body. He sighed contentedly, wriggling his hips back to push against Stephanivien.
"Look at you," he chuckled, "No-one would believe only a few weeks ago you had never been touched by another soul. Look how desperate your body is for me."

Artoirel whined in response, Stephanivien reached over and ghosted his fingers over his shaft.
"Perfect, sensible, dutiful Artoirel de Fortemps. Begging for cock."
"Steph-" came the broken plea.
"Good boy," Stephanivien purred, licking the shell of his ear. Artoirel tensed, his body shook violently. It had taken all his strength not to come in that moment. 
"You like it when I call you that?" Stephanivien was amused, he nipped the tip of his ear delighting in the responding noise that Artoirel released.
"Please Steph, I- I can't hold on much longer…" His breathing was laboured, each word coming out in a husky breath.
"Beg a little more for me..."

"Steph please," the Count began, behind him he heard the pop of the oil bottle. "I need to feel you inside me."
"A good start.." Stephanivien trailed a hand down Artoirel's body, the two fingers coated in oil lifted to not waste the substance and he moved over Artoirel's waist.
"I need to feel your seed in me, coat my insides…"
"How many times are you going to come for me I wonder..?" Stephanivien's fingers slid down towards his entrance.
"Steph…" Artoirel moaned, feeling the first press against his entrance.
"Beg." Stephanivien paused. "One last time."
"Please… make me yours."
"Good boy."

Stephanivien pushed his first finger through the tight ring of muscle. Artoirel sighed deeply, his body going limp as the machinist snaked his other arm beneath to pull him against his chest. Artoirel had not realised how badly he had craved Stephanivien's touch again. Agreeing to wait had been torture for him. His own fingers no longer could satisfy him after he had felt the way Stephanivien opened him up. He dreamt of his tongue inside him, his own curiosity wanting him to try to bring Stephanivien to completion from that alone as well.

But right now, he melted into Stephanivien's touch, grasping at his own skin to spread his cheeks to allow the machinist to work. Stephanivien returned to licking and kissing his ear, he shuddered, moaning louder as his tongue drifted along the sensitive lobe. Artoirel quickly grew frustrated, the pace again slow and gentle as Stephanivien worked his second finger into him.
"Too slow?" He smirked. Teasing a bite onto Artoirel's neck.
"Yes…" Artoirel whimpered back. "Fuck me please!"
"No.." Stephanivien pushed in a third finger. "Not tonight."
Artoirel made a pathetic attempt at a protest, Stephanivien silenced him into a moan as he brushed against his prostate deliberately.

"Tonight I will make love to you. Slow and steady. I will worship every inch of your body that I have not already done so..."

Artoirel felt his heart skip a beat, Stephanivien's words whispered so passionately into his ear brought him almost to the edge.

"I can't live without you Art. I won't, not again …"

Artoirel's eyes rolled back as a fourth finger entered him, he felt the delicious stretch now, he prayed to Halone that Stephanivien would fill him quickly. But he knew he was at the mercy of the machinist, and Stephanivien was nowhere near done with him. He could play him so well, like any one of his finely tuned machines. The rhythm of his finger's not what Artoirel wanted but what he needed. Artoirel trusted that he would take care of him.

"You are my everything, I love you, Artoirel de Fortemps…"

The Count was too lost to hear the way Stephanivien said his name, he could only whine as he felt the emptiness of his fingers leaving him. 

"I want to spend all my remaining days with you, that is, if you'll allow yourself to have me…"

Artoirel startled, Stephanivien's words reaching his lust addled brain as he felt the head of his slicked cock at his entrance. He felt every ilm as he pushed, his own cock twitching threateningly, his heart racing. After the longest moment, he felt Stephanivien's body flush against him.

Fully sheathed inside him he held him tightly, one arm across his chest the other gripping his hip tightly. He steadied his breath, a short second, not to let Artoirel adjust but to release both the tears and words that had brimmed to the surface of him now that they lay there together.

"Marry me."

Chapter Text

"Say it again."

Artoirel’s breath caught in his mouth.
Stephanivien's cock dragged along his insides, every inch pushing down firmly against his prostate.
"Y-yes" he stuttered out. "Yes I wi-lllll m-marry you!"

Stephanivien pulled out slowly and pushed back in, the way Artoirel fluttered around him was incredible. He kissed his shoulder and gripped his hip watching as Artoirel's face twisted in the pleasure he felt. 

The moment he had asked the question, Artoirel had spilled, he could see the mess of the sheets in front of him. It would be difficult explaining that away in the morning. But hearing him moan in ecstasy, crying out as he answered the question, was now the single most amazing moment of his life.

"Steph…" he turned his lips to Artoirel's neck as he spoke. "I love you so much."
"I know," teeth grazed up to his ears. "I love you more than anything."
He bit lightly along Artoirel's ears, the sweet whimpers that left him were music to Stephanivien's ears. Hearing them before, he was only too glad to keep exploring all the little things that made the Count melt beneath him.

"How do you feel?" Stephanivien asked.
"Go-od" Artoirel whined as the machinist continuously worked himself inside him. "So good."
"Shall I go faster? Can you handle it?" He reached his hand that lay on the Counts chest to tease his nipple.
"Please!" He gasped. "More.."
He loved to hear him beg, his sweet Count so stoic and resolute in his duties, reduced to a quivering mess on his cock. It was intoxicating what effect he had on him. If it wasn't for his injuries, Stephanivien would have already increased the pace like Artoirel wanted. But he enjoyed the almost lazy pace of bringing Artoirel undone, none of his previous lovers had allowed him to enjoy things at this pace. Taking in their own pleasure and leaving Stephanivien unsatisfied, but not Artoirel, he took everything the machinist had to offer, moaning so sinfully as Stephanivien broke him apart and pieced him together again over and over.

He sped up, not nearly as vicious as their first coupling, Stephanivien was still concerned that Artoirel could agitate his injuries, but it was enough now for him to chase his release. His hand released the Count's hip and reached down to cup his softened cock. Stephanivien knew that he would not last long enough for Artoirel to get hard again.

"I can't hold back Art" Stephanivien grunted, squeezing Artoirel's balls lightly as he thrusted. 
"It's okay," Artoirel gasped. "Come for me."
Artoirel knew he didn't have the energy to come again, not tonight. Once was enough feeling Stephanivien buried inside of him. He was sure he could have held out, if not for the shock of Stephanivien's sudden proposal, but he was loving every second of Stephanivien's attention. Being only his second time, there was still much Artoirel didn't know about his own likes with his partner. He was happy to explore things with Stephanivien like this. The increased pace pressed against his prostate harder, it made his entire body shudder, almost as if-

"Steph!" Artoirel cried out in surprise. His body convulsed violently, Stephanivien held on tightly as he squeezed around him. It was all he needed to snap. With a cry the machinist pushed in as far as he could muster, teeth sinking into the Count's shoulder as he spilled completely.

They both gasped for air, Stephanivien could still feel Artoirel clenching around him.
"You came again?" He asked, his voice husky in Artoirel's ear. 
"Yes…" he didn't have to look to know that Artoirel's face was bright red in embarrassment. "That felt… more intense?"
"Then last time?" The machinist peppered his ear and face with kisses. "Definitely."
Stephanivien's cock had softened now and began to slip out, Artoirel keened at the feeling, attempting to clench to keep him in.
"You really like feeling something in you don't you?"
Artoirel buried his face down and made a noise. Stephanivien laughed.
"Should I make you something to keep you nice and full?"
The Count mumbled again incoherently.
"I'll take that as a yes."

They lay there for some time, basking in the afterglow of their joined bodies. The machinist ran his fingers along Artoirel's skin. 
"Steph?" Artoirel whispered softly.
"Hmm?" He responded, pulling himself from his idle thoughts.
"We need to clean up…"
"I need to clean up." He corrected him. "I very much doubt you can walk…."
Artoirel couldn't find it in him to protest as Stephanivien rolled over and got out of the bed. Now that their bodies were separated Artoirel was too aware of the mess they had made. From the sheets in front covered in his own sudden release to his rear now dripping with Stephanivien's.
Artoirel groaned, he'd give anything for a bath right now. 

From the wash room he heard the plummet of water. He smiled softly, Stephanivien always seemed to know just what he needed. He listened to him rummaging about before the water stopped.
"Here we go." Stephanivien's arms scooped under Artoirel and picked him off the bed. The Count twisted so he could wrap his arms around his neck as he took him through the door.
"It shouldn't be too hot, but I can add some more cold water if you like."
He lowered Artoirel gently into the water, sighing deeply as the warmth enveloped him.
"It's perfect…" he closed his eyes and sank down fully.
"Good, I'll be right back."

Artoirel rested his hands on the side of the bath and let the heat soak into him. Stephanivien had added some of his scents to the water, taken from the shelves around him. 
It smelt wonderful.
There was some rustling of fabric from the other room before Stephanivien reappeared, a bundle of sheets in his arms. He threw them towards the hamper in the corner.
"One thing sorted at least." He smiled.
Artoirel looked up at his naked form, Fury , his chest was a sight he would never be sick of seeing. His eyes drifted lower down to his stomach. Despite never having trained as a knight, Artoirel noted that Stephanivien was built like a paladin; years of lifting wood and metal in the Manufactory had made him strong. His skin glistened, caught between the water's reflection and the candlelight, all the way down to his spent cock and small dried patch of spend that covered him still.

"Good view you got there?"
Artoirel jumped slightly and blushed.
"Am I not allowed to appreciate my fiancé ?" He managed to retort.
Stephanivien smirked, leaning down to kiss him firmly.
"How wonderful to hear you call me that."
Artoirel blushed further.
"My sweet." Kiss. "Handsome." Kiss. "Brave." Kiss. "Amour."
"Stop it you romantic fool!" Artoirel splashed him with water.
"Never," he grinned. "Scooch forward, make room."

Stephanivien nudged Artoirel forward in the bath, stepping over and sliding in behind him. There was just enough room for them both if Stephanivien wrapped his legs around Artoirel. The Count did not complain. He sank back against Stephanivien's chest and relaxed into him.
The machinist began brushing his skin with a sponge on the side.

"You're always taking care of me." Artoirel hummed blissfully.
"Of course," he kissed the top of Artoirel's head. "Although I prefer caring for you when you are full of my seed rather than almost dying."
"I agree," he smiled softly at the gentle touches as Stephanivien cleaned his body.
"Perhaps…" Stephanivien paused, looking for the words he wanted. "... Perhaps one day you can care for me in such a way."

Artoirel's eyes flew open from their closed and contented haze.
"You mean…?" He turned his head to look up at the blushing machinist.
"Only if it's something you want to try…"
He couldn't quite look Artoirel in the eyes.
"I- I wouldn't want to disappoint you," Artoirel murmured, lowering his gaze. "You know I don't have much experience with these things."
"Nor me," Stephanivien admitted. "Not the other way round."
"Oh…" Artoirel could feel his own blush seeping through to his ears.

"When you're built like me, people assume you want to be on top." There was a wistful sound to his voice. "I've always longed to feel what it's like on the other side, to be taken care of."
"People have always been trying to tell us what we're supposed to be." Artoirel traced droplets of water along Stephanivien's arm circled around him.
"Is it wrong to want these things?"
"No," Artoirel paused. "You'll have to show me…"
"Hmm?"
"How to make you feel good."
"Truly?" Steph held him closer. "You mean it?"

"Maybe it's something we both might like?" The water splashed as Artoirel snuggled into him. "We can find out together."
"Together"

***

"Stephanivien this is ridiculous" Baurendouin slammed his fist on the desk.
"Why?" The young lord rose from the chair.
" Why ?! You are the future Count of this House. Of my House . And you wish to squander your life away doing peasant work?!"
"Is defending our city peasant work father?!" 

Stephanivien gripped the edge of Baurendouin's desk, staring at his father with determination in his eyes. The young Lord was barely dressed in society's terms, his shirt hanging loose from his britches and he wore no waistcoat or house coat. As if his humble request wasn't enough, his manner of dress would have angered his father regardless.

"You will be a Knight." His father attempted to keep his voice level.
"A shite knight." Stephanivien bit straight back.
"Well if you practised more."
"I've practised every day with all my brothers. It's not what I should be."
"You will practise more, you will become the dutiful son you are meant to be!"
"What? Just a clone of you? Never!" Stephanivien raised his voice louder.
"YOU ARE THE HEIR OF THIS HOUSE-"

"I DON'T WANT TO BE!"
Silence fell in the study. Both father and son stared at each other.
"I don't want to be the next Count." Stephanivien breathed deeply trying to calm himself. "I won't find a wife, or give you heirs. I am not going to bow to the life you're forcing on me."
"You think your petty rebellion will achieve anything?"
"This isn't a rebellion. This is who I am, father!"

Stephanivien pushed off the desk and moved to the door.
"If you walk out that door Stephanivien you will no longer be privy to the benefits of this house."
Stephanivien froze hand on the door knob.
"You can mess around with your trinkets and your guns if you like..."
Baurendouin was seething as he spoke. Stephanivien edged the door open.
"But when you fail, and you will fail, you will play by my rules."
Stephanivien turned and looked at him.
"You are so ready to believe I am a failure? That my life is worth nothing!?"
His voice grew louder as he spoke.
"I won't be a failure, I won't play by your rules. You will not control my life any more !"

"Stephanivien?" A soft voice came from the other side of the door as he threw it open. He looked at his mother and shook his head, pushing past her back into the hall.
"Stephanivien?!" She called again. "Baurendouin what is going on? Stephanivien!?"
"Leave him Anaïs, there's no hope for him anymore…"

***

"Where is Stephanivien?" Edmont's cane clicked on the hard floor as he approached the long couch where Artoirel sat alone.

"He went to speak to his father," Artoirel said, Edmont could hear the nervousness in his voice. "His mother was also anxious to see him since we returned."
"I can understand. It's not easy to lose a child. A fact we both know as households."
Edmont dropped to sit opposite him.
"Haurchefant would be proud. Wouldn't he?" Artoirel looked up to him, closing the book he had on his lap.
"He would," Edmont smiled sadly, "I only wish that he was here to see it."

They fell into silence, like they always did. Edmont looked at Artoirel as he picked up his book again.
“When will he be back?” He asked, inquiring gently.
“Ahh, I'm not sure, depends on how well this conversation goes with Count Baurendouin.”
“You both decided what it is you want to do I take it” Edmont studied his son as his ears began turning pink. “You are the Count of this house Artoirel, you do not need to seek my approval if that is what worries you?”
“That is not my main concern, but your blessing is something I would seek,” Artoirel looked at his father, “I don't know what I will do if he says no…"

"My suggestion would be to elope personally."
Artoirel looked up in disbelief. 
"S-surely you jest?" He stuttered.
"If Baurendouin objects he is a fool." Edmont said firmly. "Stephanivien already knows he has a roof over his head here in our home should it come to it."
Artoirel sucked in a breath as his father continued.
"If he denies Stephanivien then I will encourage you both to seek out an alternative. I'm sure Jara would be more than happy to help you both steal away to Gridania for such a thing."

Artoirel couldn't believe what he was hearing, it was scandalous to think of leaving Ishgard to get married. But why? Artoirel questioned himself. Centuries of traditions meant nothing now, and who was left to disappoint? His father approved of Stephanivien, his brother would surely object only that he could no longer pursue Laniaitte, as foolish a folly as that was. And as Edmont had quite rightly said, Jara would not hesitate to arrange a ceremony elsewhere.

This was about him and Stephanivien. No one else. Edmont watched as Artoirel’s face moved from concerned to a smile.
"I will marry him no matter what."
"That's my boy."

***

Baurendouin shook snow from his hat as he entered the house, the Steward stepped up to take his coat and outdoor boots.
"How fair things out there Milord?" The Steward asked politely.
"As well as can be. I imagine there will be a lot more work to come in the next moons." Baurendouin held his arms out for his housecoat to be draped over his shoulders. "I hope Stephanivien will return to the Manufactory soon to help coordinate in some of the rebuilding. We will need every hand on deck."
"Ahh the young Lord is here Milord …" the Steward brushed his shoulders down.
"I see," Baurendouin frowned. "The Countess received him?"
"She did Milord, but I believe it is you he has come to see."
"That's a surprise." His eyebrow raised as he stepped into his house shoes. "They are in the drawing room, I take it?"
"Yes Milord." He bowed as Baurendouin made his way down the hall.

He reached the drawing room quickly, hearing voices within, unmistakably his wife and his eldest son. He lightly pushed on the door, the voices ceased immediately, two sets of eyes turning to look at him. Stephanivien rose to his feet nervously.
"Hello father." 
"Stephanivien, you look well." Baurendouin leant down to greet Anaïs with a kiss to her hair. "I trust your wounds are healed."
"My arm still twinges if I try anything too strenuous but aside from that I am recovered."
"I'm glad to hear that," Baurendouin looked at him, "And the Count?"
"He woke in the late evening just gone. it may be some time before he is fully able to raise a sword again. But they have assured him he will make a full recovery."

Baurendouin nodded, the Countess looked at him and nudged her head towards their son, encouraging him to continue.
"We should talk in the study," he said gruffly, his tone turning business. "We need to discuss what aid and support we can provide from the Manufactory. Your siblings are already out assisting where they can. It's time you were out there too doing what you can for the people."
She sighed and shook her head. 
"I hope you don't end up in a screaming match like last time." She rose to her feet and smoothed her skirts. "I'll come back to check on you soon mon petit chou, to ensure you haven't tried to kill each other.”

The Countess left first, and the gentleman followed, turning the opposite way to Count Baurendouin's study, Stephanivien hesitated at the door remembering the last time he had been in here.
His father turned and looked at him, they both knew what thoughts crossed their mind.
"Are we going to fight this time?" Baurendouin asked.
"I hope not." Stephanivien took a breath and shut the door behind him.

He gestured for him to sit in the chair opposite the desk, passing him a glass of brandy he poured out for him.
"Where do you want to start?" Stephanivien sank into the chair as his father sat. He watched him take a sip
"I am proud of you."

Stephanivien nearly spat out his drink, that was the absolute last thing he ever thought he would hear from his father.
"Don't be so dramatic." He scoffed at him as Stephanivien stared dumbfoundedly at him. "I won't say it again."
"That's more like it." Stephanivien swallowed a larger mouthful. "I should die more often just for your approval then?"
"That's not amusing." Baurendouin gave him a flat glare.
"But true," Stephanivien smirked. "I told you before I would not shirk the duties charged to me. I just wouldn't do them your way."
"Quite rightly too." The Count agreed. "You've done more for this House than I ever imagined possible, Stephanivien."

"The world is changing, father, and we must change with it." Stephanivien looked at the flames flickering in the fireplace. "Ishgard enters a new dawn for her people. We cannot cling to centuries of traditions built on lies and deceit. If we do not change we will crumble."
"I see that now," Baurendouin admitted. "I am sorry it took me so long to do so."
"Bless Halone, praise and an apology? I must be dreaming."

Baurendouin looked at his son angrily, he opened his mouth to scold him when Stephanivien burst into laughter. Baurendouin was taken back at the sound, realising how long it had been since he heard genuine joy from his eldest.
"It's good to hear you laugh, my son." Baurendouin smiled slightly.
"It's nice to see you mellowed." Stephanivien chuckled back. "We've both come a long way since I was last in this office."

"That we have…"

They both sat for a moment sipping at their drinks.
"I'm not sure what the Manufactory can provide for Ishgard in terms of relief. But any able-bodied person will be at your disposal." Stephanivien offered.
"Right now, it's clearing the wreckage and repairing the bridge." Baurendouin spoke softly, "There are many places where it fell from force..."

Stephanivien looked down at the remaining liquid in his glass, a soft tremble as to his fingers as he recalled the battle..

"Would you tell me what happened?" The Count asked gently. "I've heard Joye's account. But I'd hear it from you if you are willing."

Stephanivien drained the glass. And set it on his fathers desk.
"She was under attack, I ran in to assist her. Artoirel was able to get her out from where she was. But there was a bigger one waiting."
He took a breath before continuing.
"I pressed forward, but I should have pulled back. It all just fell apart around me. It took me down with it, but its claws clung to the side and I fell. I grabbed onto anything I could scraping down the side of the cliff until I stopped and everything went dark…"

Baurendouin listened. Filling Stephanivien's glass again.

"The next thing I remember was opening my eyes to see the dragon again. And Artoirel." Tears glossed into Stephanivien's eyes as he recalled the events. "He was in its claws, but I saw my gun, Artoirel had fired it in an attempt to kill it. But the recoil, it-"

Stephanivien took a drink, calming himself.
"I killed it. Shot the foul creature off him, but when I got to him… he was… dying…."

Tears suddenly fell from Stephanivien's eyes, Baurendouin sucked in a breath at the display.

"He was dying… and it was my fault. It was my fault. If I'd pulled back, if I had been better,  he wouldn't have- he wouldn't be-"

A strong hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed. Stephanivien looked up as his father knelt down beside him.

"I was ready to die with him." Stephanivien's head dropped, his voice, his hands gripping the glass tightly. "I would have joined him in Halone's halls."
"Stephanivien…"

" I love him, father. " 

Stephanivien finally released the words he'd been terrified to speak. The grip on his shoulder retreated in surprise. Stephanivien could look at him. He could already anticipate the look of anger and disappointment that would be on his face.

"I love him, and I know what you'll say." Stephanivien continued. "That were both heir’s, that a union like that would be frowned upon. But I don't care, I want to marry him, I want to be with him for the rest of my life."

Stephanivien took a breath, his words spilling out so quickly had left him breathless.
"I lost him once, and then I nearly cost him his life. I won't let it happen again, not when I know he loves me too."

Baurendouin sighed and poured a large drink for himself. Stephanivien looked up cautiously and watched him drain the entire glass.
“Your mother is going to have a complete fit at this.” He said simply. “I take it you've already asked him? Or he asked you?”
Stephanivien looked up, shocked, unable to answer. There was no visible rage or disappointment in his fathers face, or any expression Stephanivien could understand as he looked at him for an answer.
“I asked…”
The Count nodded, going for the brandy bottle again. Stephanivien tried to control the nervous tension in his body. The fact that his father had not immediately protested spoke volumes, but he had not said yes either.
“You think a union between two people of your station is a good idea? Artoirel has already taken his mantle. What about when your time comes?”
“You know I have no intention of taking your title when you step down, I don't want it .” Stephanivien could feel the frustration rise in him, back to the same argument again.  

“You are idealistic, stubborn to the bone, a fierce warrior and a commanding leader.” Baurendouin started holding his hand up to cut off Stephanivien before he spoke. “You told me Ishgard is changing, and you are right: she is. She will need fresh blood to lead her. No you will not be the Count I had always hoped I could raise you to be. But you could be better. You and your soon-to-be husband could be the spark that sets aflame the new fires of our nation.”

Any argument Stephanivien had prepared died on his tongue, ‘soon-to-be husband‘, the words swam in his head. His mouth opened and closed several times trying to find something coherent to say.

“All I ask is that you consider it. When the time does come and I step down, if you still feel the same then I will pass the title to one of your siblings.”
“Father…”
“Is that agreeable?” He returned to stand beside Stephanivien holding out his hand.
“You really have no objections to me taking Artoirel as my husband?” It almost sounded unbelievable as he asked.
“I know even if I said ‘no’, you would march out that door and do it anyway.” his father gave him a knowing look. “And your mother would never forgive me if I did.”

He held out his hand still, gesturing to Stephanivien again. “Are we in agreement?”
Stephanivien looked at his hand. He had always been firm in his belief that he was not suited to the archaic role his ancestors had put before them, but for the first time, he dared think that his Father could be right. Perhaps together he could help shape the future, but would he lose his spirit and his freedom that he had long fought for.

“I’ll think about it, if that is what you want,” Stephanivien stood and took his fathers hand, sealing their agreement.
“Good, now we should summon your mother. She is going to be unbearable once she finds out.”

Stephanivien watched him go to the door, he still couldn't believe what had happened.
"ANAÏS!"
His fathers cry rang through the house, followed by a silence as they both waited.
"Yes dearest?" Finally his mother trotted down the hall. "You bellowed?"
"In. Please." He held the door open for her. 
“Nice to see you are both in one piece. And don't seem to be ready to kill each other?
"Your son has just declared his intent to marry…"
Anaïs shrieked delightedly, making Stephanivien jump at the proximity of the sound.
"Marry!" She hugged him tightly. "Who? Please, please tell me it's Artoirel?!" His mothers excitement jolted him again. 

“How?!” Stephanivien gawked at her as she squealed delightedly.
“See darling I told you! I was right!” she drew him in tighter bouncing with joy. “You have been sweet on that boy for such a long time I was beginning to lose hope that you would find the courage to go after him.”
“Your mother has been convinced that you would marry Artoirel since you were a young boy.” Baurendouin sighed, “Your declaration did not come as a complete surprise considering she has mentioned it constantly these past days since we left you at Fortemps Manor.”
“You were so desperate to stay by his side” Anaïs stroked his cheek affectionately and flattened a rouge hair from the loose braid his hair had been twisted into. “I knew then it would not be long.”

Stephanivien hugged his mother tightly, lifting her slightly as he did, she giggled happily again as her feet returned to the floor.
“Do you have any plans yet?” the Countess took his hands in her own earnestly. 
“Nothing,” he smiled down at her. “I don't know what we want yet. I guess we thought we'd think about it once we knew if we would marry in Ishgard or not.”
“Why would you not get married in- BAURENDOUIN!” She dropped Stephanivien and turned to her husband. “I hope you did not have intentions of denying this!?”
“No mon amour!” he backed away as she rounded on him, “I never said anything of the sort!”

Stephanivien chuckled, his mother playfully swatting his father as his face paled, desperate to get away from his now violently passionate wife. There were still many things to discuss, but Stephanivien enjoyed this small moment, and allowed his joy to spread through him. He was going to marry Artoirel. They would be together, finally. No-one was left to drive a wedge between them, he had his fathers approval and the war was over. Together they could begin a life of their own.

He was still smiling hours later when he returned to Fortemps Manor. Artoirel hobbled into his arms as soon as he saw the euphoric look on his face, kissing him deeply, uncaring at the fact Edmont was sat on the sofa adjacent.

“He said yes?” Artoirel gasped for breath as Stephanivien released him.
“He did,” the machinist laughed. “He actually did!”

Edmont rose from the sofa smiling at them both.
“I’m so very pleased for you both.”
“Thank you, Edmont”
“Thank you, father.”

“I shall organise for dinner to be held, you can tell your siblings the good news if you have not done so already?” Edmont suggested.
“No, I wanted to tell them together,” Stephanivien smiled. “Dinner would be lovely.”

“Excellent, I’ll see that arrangements are made!”

Chapter Text

"It's been ages since we all had dinner!" Francel exclaimed excitedly as they gathered in the hall.
"Not since Stephanivien yelled in the Countess' face." Laniaitte chuckled.
Francel laughed, coming up beside her. "Yeah and maman sent her-"
"I don't know what you're all on about," their mother brushed past them feigning ignorance as she took her cloak. "I trust you all will be on your best behaviour tonight?"
She gave them all a quick look over, not that she had any cause to be concerned with their appearance. Her only concern, as always, was that Stephanivien was dressed appropriately. She hoped that the Count de Fortemps had seen to his wardrobe for the night.
"Of course mama," Aurvael stood ready to hold open the door. "Who do you think we are? Steph?"

They all chuckled, all except their father who scowled from the back. He ushered them all out of the door. The sun was already setting, the night chill nipping at them slightly. They huddled close to each other and made their way across the freshly lit street. 
"Where is Steph? I haven't seen him at all since they came back?" Francel wondered as they walked over arm linked with Laniaitte.
"He's been at Fortemps all this time, has he not?" Aurvael walked beside them.
"When did they start getting along again?" Laniaitte grabbed his arm to link into. "He's never mentioned him for what? Fifteen or so years?"
"Something must be going on." Francel pondered. "I'll have to ask Emm-"
"Children…" their mother shushed them with a stern tone.

If anyone asked which of the Haillenarte parents were more fearsome. All of their children would claim it was their mother. Her only reason for hanging up her mail and sword had been to raise her children, swapping one battlefield for another. Baurendouin had been enamoured since their first fateful clash and to his delight son had Anaïs. They both possessed a rare connection not usually found in a High House marriage: love. He absolutely adored her, and like his children. He would agree never to cross her. As they finished their route across the street he took his wife's arm and ascended the stairs to Fortemps Manor. The guard stationed outside had already signalled their arrival, as they reached the top the door opened to reveal the former Count de Fortemps.

"Baurendouin, Anaïs, what a pleasure." Edmont smiled warmly at them, stepping aside to let them pass. 
"Lord Edmont," Baurendouin nodded at him, "Thank you for having me and my family this evening."
"The pleasure is all mine, we have much to celebrate and be thankful for."
Edmont greeted them all as they passed the threshold, shaking hands and bowing deeply to Laniaitte, kissing her hand, before offering to escort her through to the grand receiving room where the other guest waited. 

Artoirel watched as they all came through fidgeting nervously from his position by the fire, he stood with the Lord Commander, trying and failing not to discuss the upcoming work they would be doing. Naturally Baurendouin gravitated towards them to greet first, after all they were socially the highest ranked members of the room.
"Lord Commander, pleasure to see you." The gentlemen shook hands firmly. "Count Artoirel, it is good to see you looking well."
"A pleasure as always Baurendouin,' Aymeric smiled, turning to kiss the hand of the Countess as she followed behind.
"Welcome Lord Baurendouin, it's good to have you here this evening."
"You gave everyone quite the scare, Artoirel, Halone must like you." He chuckled dryly.
"Someone must." He smiled back weakly. "Stephanivien saved my life, I am grateful for this second chance."
"Aye, we've all been granted one. Now it's time we did something with it." He clasped Artoirel's shoulder affectionately, hoping to relay what words currently could not.

"Oh indeed, we were just discussing that as you came in." Aymeric smiled brightly, returning to them both. "Looking for a way to bring in resources to rebuild what is lost and build anew for the people."
"It's not that thought out yet, a proposal still needs to be made in writing." Artoirel added. "It's unclear to us yet where these resources would come from without spending ridiculous amounts of money to buy them."
"There must be something sustainable. We can look at, Aurvael, come here my lad!"

His second son looked up from the sofa where he had been sitting talking to his eldest brother. 
"Yes father?" He looked between them all.
"You spend far too much time pouring over reports of the region, what say you to sourcing a place for us to obtain materials to rebuild our fair city?"
"Well as treacherous as it may be on foot, however by airship Abalathia's Spine might prove to hold what is needed."
"Abalathia you say?" Aymeric considered it. "Would you be amenable to scouting it out if you were provided the equipment needed?"
"I'd be more than happy too!" Aurvael could not conceal his delight at such an endeavour. 
"That's a good start, I am still housebound currently, so I can look to draft up a proposal tomorrow."
"Excellent," Aymeric smiled. "Thank you Aurvael."

They continued to talk as they waited for the dinner bell to be rung. Artoirel looked round at all the people gathered. From the Haillenartes to the Warrior of Light and her father and lastly the Lord Commander. All the people they trusted to be the first to know.
Of course their parents knew, but Artoirel was still surprised with how little resistance they had gotten from the Count de Haillenarte. There was still a chance other High Lords would object. Something Artoirel was ready to meet head on should it happen. There was no law against it, but Artoirel knew there was an unspoken taboo felt against previous heirs in similar circumstances. His mothers words as always rang through his head.

When the dinner bell rang. Artoirel was glad, he had purposefully been avoiding Stephanivien's company in fear he would give themselves away before they were ready. Just a little longer, he just needed to make it through dinner. There was no official organisation to the table, people were being told to sit where they wanted. He watched amused as Emmanellain attempted to slide in next to Laniaitte, but the Lady swiftly redirected herself to a free space next to Jefara. To save any distress Artoirel took the next seat, cutting his brother off from attempting to make a fool of himself. The next space filled beside him, he turned and was met with blonde hair. Stephanivien. Artoirel felt his heart quicken, as glad as he was to sit next to him, it would be impossible to concentrate.

Opposite to him sat an annoyed Emmanellain, still desperate to be in view of Laniaitte, he was surrounded by Aymeric and Francel, and passed them around the head sat all of their parents already deep in amiable conversation.
"You alright?" Steph spoke softly without looking too obviously at him.
"Nervous." He sighed, dropping his shoulders.
"You don't have to do this. We can wait."
"No, I want to. I want people to know you are mine." The last part was spoken so quietly Stephanivien almost could not hear it. He tried to hide his smirk, he carefully reached under the table and placed his hand on Artoirel's leg.

The Count jumped at the sudden contact. His knee hit the underside of the table and all eyes turned to him.
"Brother! Are you alright?" Emmanellain looked at him concerned.
"Y-yes," Artoirel's face burned with embarrassment. "Just some pain in my leg, nothing to worry about." 
He shot Stephanivien a stern side glare, the machinist not trying nearly hard enough to hide his amusement.
"I can check it later if you like milord?" Barham asked from down the table.
"That won't be necessary, it has passed."

Gazes lingered on him a moment longer, Artoirel was already planning the scolding he would give Stephanivien later. Thankfully however the first course of the meal came out and everyone turned their attention back to their conversations.
When he was sure no one was looking he hissed quietly at Stephanivien.
"Behave."
" Or what?"

Artoirel looked at him, he bit back his rising irritation, and took a calming breath.
"Or you will have to find comfort in your lonely bed at the Manufactory."
It was an empty threat, they both knew it. But Artoirel also knew that Stephanivien would continue pushing the limits of his patience, is this what he would have to expect his married life would be? Assaulted daily by his insufferable enthusiasm and challenging personality. Yes. Artoirel thought. Ever since they were children Stephanivien had made him question his beliefs, shaping his thoughts and unknowingly stopping him from conforming to the life his mother tried to force him into. He would happily spend every day for the rest of his life with this, with Stephanivien beside him, no matter how much he pushed or pulled. He would always love him. Fingers brushed against his thigh again slowly making their way up until they reached dangerously close to his cock. He took a deep calming breath, inwardly cursing at the fact that the machinist’s touch made him twitch excitedly, Artoirel had to bite his tongue to stop him from scolding Stephanivien again.

The next course arrived, Artoirel tried to keep his focus on eating, but Stephanivien's leg pressed fully against his own now, it was scorching him despite the layers of clothing between them both. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse the machinist nudged him softly, Artoirel ignored him. He nudged again, harder.
"What?" He turned to him.
Stephanivien looked at him for a moment and his eyes flicked towards the table.
Again all eyes were on him. Fury preserve me. Emmanellain in particular was looking at him suspiciously, his eyes narrow as he observed his older brother.
"Sorry." Artoirel muttered. "Did someone ask something?"
"Only me," Francel smiled. "I was asking if I could see your piano after dinner? I heard yours is absolutely lovely."
"Oh! Of course." Artoirel smiled. "Do you play often?"
"When I am at home, yes. I didn't have an instrument when I was out in Skyfire." 
"I can imagine there wouldn't be time to play idle songs out there." Artoirel noted.
"What do you like to play?" Francel smiled eagerly.
"Allsorts, it depends really on the mood…"

Conversations flowed as the food courses continued. By the time desert was served Artoirel had all but forgotten his anxiousness at telling their siblings of their engagement, instead he held a mild annoyance at the fact that his fiancé had continued to press against him. He had already thought of all the ways he could punish Stephanivien that evening, but as Edmont invited the older Haillenartes and Barham to the parlour for drinks he banished the thoughts away, preparing for the announcement soon to be made.

The children and Lord Commander were left sitting at the table. Stephanivien squeezed his leg once more, this time reassuringly beneath the table.
"What shall we do now?" Jefara smiled sweetly looking down towards Artoirel. He looked at her blankly for a moment, why was he so scared? 
"Francel wanted to see your piano?" Stephanivien gave him another reassuring squeeze.
"Ah yes. To the music room then." 

Artoirel rose and led the way, once they arrived the party spread about the room taking up seats, Francel heading straight up to the grand piano admiring it greatly. Emmanellain hovered awkwardly. All through dinner he had watched his brother, he knew there was something else going on, his nose for gossip was twitching relentlessly. Now that their father was not around, he could finally ask without fear of repercussions.

"What is going on with you brother?!" Emmanellain finally snapped.
"Pardon?" Artoirel looked at him from the piano where he stood with Francel.
"You've been acting weird all night." He huffed. "Not to mention Stephanivien suddenly being here all the time when you had barely mentioned him for Fury only knows how long."
Artoirel took a breath as once more they all turned to him. He looked from Emmanellain to Jefara who bore a sympathetic look and nodded encouragingly.

He took a deep breath, holding his hand towards the machinist. With a gentle smile Stephanivien crossed the floor to him and took his hand. Artoirel could hear several gasps, Francel and Laniaitte for sure, but he ignored it, he kept his eyes on Stephanivien.
"Tonight isn't about celebrating the end of the war." Artoirel began. "Not entirely..." 
Stephanivien squeezed his hand. There was no turning back now. Stephanivien smiled at him encouragingly.
"It's okay," he whispered. "I'm here."
He took another lungful of air, " StephandIareengaged ." He babbled out the words as he exhaled.

"I knew it! I knew something was happening after our father threatened me the other day!" Emmanellain exclaimed.
"Oh my Fury are you really?!" Francel bounced excitedly.
"Does father know about this?!" Aurvael baulked at them.
"Our father has given his full and hearty consent to the union."
"Papa said yes?" Laniaitte stood and hugged her brother. "I can hardly believe it!"
"Congratulations to you both" smiled the Lord Commander stepping forward to clasp both their shoulders. "Joyous news for you both."
Jefara had rushed to Artoirel in joy as soon as he had spoken, hugging him fiercely. When he released her he looked at Emmanellain who still stared at them both.
"Do you disapprove?" Artoirel asked. 
"What? No?" He looked surprised. "Just shocked, how did this happen. You never spoke for years?!"
"I confess I'm quite curious too." Aurvael clasped his brother's hand. "I remember how tense things were after you went off to train. Stephanivien was insufferable."
"Aurvael!" Stephanivien shot him a glaring look. They both chuckled at each other.
"Come on, spill!"

"We have struggled. That's for sure." Stephanivien lifted Artoirel's hand and kissed it. "Some misunderstandings. But in the end we found our way back to each other."
“After Haurchefant died, Steph found me… not dealing well. He helped bring me back and since then we rekindled the friendship that we lost. I never dreamed it would blossom into more.”
"That's sickeningly romantic," Laniaitte laughed. "But seriously papa did not object?"
"We came to an understanding. And I think mother would have flayed him alive if he had refused."

All of the Haillenartes shuddered. The same fear and respect for their mother rippled through them.
"I heard the Countess was fierce on the battlefield." Aymeric nodded respectfully.
"And off," Aurvael confirmed. "I remember the day she sent your mother flying."
"What?" "She did what?"

Both Fortemps brothers went wide-eyed. The Haillenartes looked between themselves sheepishly. 
"When did that happen?" Artoirel looked at Aurvael.
"Was the day after your name day…" Stephanivien was the one who answered. Artoirel turned to look at him. "The day you were sent away."
"Oh…" Artoirel looked down.
"How did it even happen?" Emmanellain was curious. This was gossip too tasty for him to resist.
"I may have been shouting at her." Stephanivien shuffled self consciously as all eyes turned to him. "I was upset, you were gone without a word..."
"She wouldn't let me…" Artoirel tried to explain.
"I know. She tried to tell me you didn't want to be my friend anymore. Not that I believed her. When I wouldn't leave she struck me."
"What!" Artoirel felt anger rising.
"I called her an ‘old cow’ and she went to do it again.. and that's when maman intervened."
"You called my mother a- to her face?"

Artoirel stared at Stephanivien bewildered before he burst into laughter.
"Fury, it's a wonder you are still alive!" Artoirel continued laughing. "No wonder she hated you so!"
"What happened next?" Emmanellain cut in as Stephanivien began to laugh too.
"Maman caught her wrist and threatened pretty much to kill her if she touched me again." 
"How have we never heard of this?" Emmanellain sat down shocked.
"I'm not sure your mother was going to brag about having her ass handed to her by another Countess." Aurvael chuckled.
"I actually can't believe that ever happened…" Artoirel was still chuckling, he leant in and placed a soft kiss on Stephanivien's lips. "How is it possible to love you any more?"

Stephanivien raised his eyebrows at the display, Artoirel smiled at him and then immediately turned red realising what he had just done. He looked around the room at their company, all of them smiling or looking away embarrassed. Artoirel wanted to fall through the floor. Stephanivien hugged him with one arm chuckling lightly as he pressed a chaste kiss to his hair.
"Francel why don't you play for us?"
His youngest brother jumped up joyfully. “Yes! But you will all have to take a turn singing. Even you, Lord Commander!”
The youngest Haillenarte settled at the piano, striking up a merry tune, as promised they all took a turn to sing, all of them marvelling when it was the Warrior of Light’s turn. Francel commanded the piano with excellent skill, Artoirel could do nothing but smile. He felt the weight from his chest disappearing as he watched them all, glad to have been accepted by them all. Stephanivien remained close throughout the evening, happy to hold his hand and touch him affectionately, They sat on the long couch across from the piano, fingers laced together firmly, the machinist leant in and whispered softly into his ear.

“The night is almost over,” Stephanivien kissed the shell of his ear. “Do you wish to retire?”
“Soon,” Artoirel promised. 
“Good because I cannot kiss you properly the way I want to right now.”

Artoirel smirked slightly at Stephanivien’s statement. He had not forgotten how the machinist had been during dinner, his wandering hands beneath the table touching him inappropriately. Artoirel knew he would have to teach Stephanivien a lesson once they went to his, their, room.
“Shall we? Mon amour?”

Chapter Text

Artoirel closed his bedroom door with a click. He turned and looked at Stephanivien who beamed at him delightedly.
"And now they all know." Stephanivien closed the distance between them, placing his hands onto Artoirel's hips. "You did great."

Stephanivien lent down and began pulling the Count's collar back, trailing soft kisses up his neck towards his jaw.
"Stephanivien," Artoirel spoke quietly, the machinist did not miss the warning in his tone.
"What's wrong?" He stepped back.
"You almost gave us away at the table." Artoirel looked up at him.
"You're not seriously mad about that?" Stephanivien tried to mask his worry with a laugh. "Are you?"

"Furious."

Stephanivien stepped back again as Artoirel approached him, his legs catching on the bed and falling backwards. Artoirel did not stop his advance, the machinist could see a primal look in his fiancé's eyes, but it wasn't anger. Oh . Stephanivien felt his trousers begin to tighten. 

"Strip."

Stephanivien obeyed without question, he kicked off his boots and tore off his jacket. Artoirel watched him arms folded across his chest, as he pulled his shirt over his head, lastly he shuffled his hips pulling down his smalls and trousers off. The clothes were thrown haphazardly across the room. Artoirel loosened his neck tie and dropped it to the pile and carefully slipped his jacket off.

Stephanivien was vibrating. His eyes followed Artoirel as he walked around the foot of the bed and lay his coat over his arm chair. 
"Against the headboard." 
Artoirel opened a drawer and rummaged briefly, Stephanivien didn't see what he retrieved, he sat at the head of the bed and waited patiently for his lover's next instructions. Artoirel continued his route around the room. Removing his shoes and socks, he picked up a discarded piece of fabric from the floor.

Stephanivien instantly recognised it, his bandana, the one he usually wore at work to keep his hair relatively grime free. It must have fallen from the night stand. Stephanivien thought Artoirel would simply put it down where it should be, but then Artoirel turned his hungry eyes to Stephanivien.

"Hands."

Stephanivien held them out obediently. Artoirel took them and pushed them up behind him, forcing him to lie down in the mass of pillows that adorned the top of their bed. He felt the fabric around his wrists, Artoirel wrapping them and pressing them against the wood behind.
"Fury…" Stephanivien came to the realisation of what his fiancé was doing. His cock twitched excitedly, no longer half hard but stood fully erect. 

The Count stood back and observed his work, Stephanivien lay before him, naked, flushed and his cock hot and heavy against his abdomen.
"What was the one thing I said before dinner?"
Stephanivien sucked in a breath.
"No distractions."
"Since you could not keep your hands off me during dinner." His hand dipped into his trouser pocket. "You have lost the privilege of doing so tonight."

Stephanivien had never felt so turned on in his life. This Artoirel was beyond his imagination, commanding and dominant. If this was meant to be a punishment, the machinist was going to misbehave more often. The machinist swallowed hard as his attention fell on Artoirel's hand. The Count played with a length of ribbon, he took Stephanivien's cock in his hand and held it steady, wrapping the ribbon around the base.

Stephanivien watched, fascinated. Artoirel worked quickly pulling the silk snuggly around the base. He could feel the tightness around him; the pressure felt pleasurable but restricting.
"You will not come this evening until I say so." Stephanivien whined, what had Artoirel done? His fiancé, still mostly clothed, straddled his hips and kissed him fiercely. His hands tangled into his hair to guide Stephanivien how he wanted him.
Stephanivien hissed at the slight pain as Artoirel tugged his hair, the Count faltered for a moment thinking he had gone too far before he felt Stephanivien's cock twitch against his backside.

Satisfied he wasn't hurting his partner he returned to kiss him. After he had his fill of Stephanivien's tongue he began to kiss along his jaw and on to his neck, alternating between biting and nibbling his skin.
"Tell me if I go too far."

Stephanivien wasn't sure what he would even deem as too far and as it stood, he had zero desire for Artoirel to stop what he was doing, punishment or not. Lips trailed down his collarbone next and made their way to his nipple. Artoirel looked up to make sure he was watching before he cupped both sides of his chest in his hands.
"Do you have any idea how distracting these are?" He took his teeth and pinched one of Stephanivien's nipples between them, biting down carefully. The machinist arched off the bed whining as Artoirel licked and sucked at the flesh of his chest.
His cock brushed against Artoirel's clothed rear, he desperately wanted to be touched there but knew he was at his fiancé's mercy.

"They're just pecs…" Stephanivien whined as Artoirel swapped to kiss and lick at the other.
Artoirel sat up and pressed back against his throbbing cock again. The Count swiftly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the pile on the floor.
"This is what a normal person looks like. What you have are…" Artoirel didn't finish his thought, he leant back down and sucked roughly on his erect nub again.
"I could easily fit my cock between them…" he said, admiring him lustfully.

Stephanivien gasped as Artoirel smirked. The unmistakable jolt of his arousal hit Artoirel again. 
"You like that don't you?" He sucked against Stephanivien's chest again, the skin turning purple. 
"You want me to slide my cock…" he pushed the muscles together, running his tongue up the centre of the crease he made. "...here?"
Stephanivien whined again, increasingly as Artoirel got off him to begin stripping his trousers. The machinist swallowed hard as Artoirel revealed his own throbbing erection.

He stood beside the bed watching his fiancé fidget, his cock twitched with the need to be touched. Artoirel smirked, running his hand down to his own and stroking it fully. Stephanivien licked his lips at the view, watching Artoirel stroke his own cock. Fury. Touch me please. Stephanivien knew if he voiced those thoughts out loud it would prolong his torment. But he was happy to keep letting his future husband play out whatever was in his head right now.

Artoirel smirked at Stephanivien, before climbing back on the bed. Instead of settling on his chest as he had threatened, he remained up on his knees holding his erection near Stephanivien's lips. He opened his mouth without question letting Artoirel push it into his mouth.
"Good boy."
Fury . He remembered how Artoirel had reacted to being called that. He didn't expect it to be the same for him. 
"Make it nice and wet for me."
Artoirel let him do the work, bobbing his head as best as he could with his limited movement. Keeping one hand on the wall for balance he threaded the other into Stephanivien's golden hair. He moaned delightfully as Stephanivien brought him close, but pulled back at the last moment leaving his fiancé panting.

"Ah ah not yet." He cupped his chin, sinking down in his knees to his chest and raised it to kiss him deeply, tasting his own precome on his tongue. 
"Now you're being so well behaved." Artoirel smiled. "But I don't think you are ready for release just yet."
"Please…" Stephanivien moaned as Artoirel rubbed against his cock again, teasing. Every touch set him on edge, his release however lingered just outside of his grasp. But he could see Artoirel was intent on chasing his own release now as he slid his cock wet from the machinists mouth into the centre of his pectorals as promised. He held the muscles firmly, his thumbs able to brush against Stephanivien's nipples when he desired, making him gasp and moan as he rocked his hips against him.

Stephanivien had never felt the way he did in bed with Artoirel. He had had a lover take their pleasure from him without giving back before, but Artoirel was different, every touch teased and built him up. He knew with absolute certainty that Artoirel would not leave him unsatisfied. He knew if he could he would come in that instant, however he had slowly come to realise what Artoirel had done to him with the ribbon. Punishment indeed. But one he would gladly accept. He loved how Artoirel gripped him. His thighs clenching around him as he kneaded his muscles together for his own desire.

It didn't take Artoirel long to reach his peak, wound up as he was riding the adrenaline of his salacious actions. He dug his fingers into his skin knowing there was a chance he would leave bruises. And with the type of shirts Stephanivien usually wore, an even higher chance that they would actually be seen. Artoirel didn't care, soon the entire city would know of his intentions to marry and he would claim Stephanivien like this for all to see. No-one would take him away from him again. 

With that last thought Artoirel cried out, grabbing Stephanivien's chest together as hard as ribbons of his spend began to spurt free. He pulled back slightly to allow his come to cover Stephanivien's skin, gasping for air as he came down from a powerful high. Once he had recovered he looked at his work, his fiancé breathed heavily beneath him squirming with his own need. Artoirel smirked, leaning down to lick a drop of his fluids from Stephanivien's chin.
"Art- please..." his moans were heavy with lust, his pupils non existent almost as he looked up at the Count.
"All in good time. Mon trésor."

Artoirel slid off Stephanivien, not bothering to clean him up just yet, and settled between his legs. The machinist's cock throbbed, beads of precome that had managed to work their way out dripped down the shaft. Artoirel licked a long strip up the underside catching it all and making Stephanivien hiss.
"Art-" he whined.
Artoirel continued back down again, his tongue gliding over the ribbon and continuing down, he held Stephanivien’s cock up with one hand and as he dropped lower spread the machinist's legs wider until he found his prize.

Stephanivien jumped slightly at the first touch of his entrance. Artoirel's soft wet tongue licking delicately at him, he paused briefly to let him settle.
"Fury preserve me." Stephanivien gasped, desperately trying to look down to see Artoirel as he began to push his tongue inside. When Artoirel had agreed to some day touch him like this, he had not expected it to be so soon. Artoirel smirked against his entrance enjoying the way it twitched as he breached him. He used his spare hand to spread him wider as he pushed deeper into him, exploring this new sensation for both of them.

Artoirel began to explore, making note of the way Stephanivien reacted to his actions. The taste he found strange at first but after several minutes of licking and sucking at the tight ring of muscles, Artoirel was hooked. He pulled out looking up at his fiancé, Stephanivien watched him, his entire body covered in sweat and trembling slightly under him.
"Please Art-" his voice breaking. "Please don't stop."
"You're not meant to enjoy your punishment." Artoirel chided him. "Perhaps I'll have to open you up more and make you repent."
Artoirel licked his finger, sucking it messily before moving it to Stephanivien's entrance. As he pushed in Stephanivien arched off the bed, his hands grasping at his bounds, desperately trying to anchor himself to something. He wanted to be free, to lace his fingers into Artoirel's hair and watch as he devoured him. But all he could do was enjoy the feeling of being penetrated for the first time by another, he had surrendered himself to Artoirel completely and he craved his own release which he hoped would be given soon.

The moans that Stephanivien made, almost caused Artoirel's cock to rise again. Perhaps if he had not been still recovering from his near death experience it would have. His still diminished state of health was the only reason he didn't take Stephanivien himself as they were. That would have to wait, but he would, when the time was right. Stephanivien had given him everything and he would do what he could to give back.

The Count continued to move his finger within Stephanivien, thrusting the digit in and out as he leant in to add his tongue to the mix. The machinist howled, his cock throbbing.
"Please Art- I can't take anymore-!"
Artoirel looked up. Stephanivien quaked at his touch, his face was read and tears pricked at his eyes. Before him, Stephanivien's cock leaked more of his come, he could see it straining now against its binds.
"Fury…" Artoirel propped himself back up. He panicked for a moment thinking he had taken it too far. 
"Your tongue feels so good in me," Steph moaned. "...but it's- it's-"

Artoirel understood what his partner was trying to say. Without hesitation he opened his mouth and swallowed Stephanivien's cock, taking as much as he could to the base. His hand still holding the shaft tugged at the ribbon, pulling it free. 

Everything happened at once.
Stephanivien cried out, the released pressure and the warmth of Artoirel's mouth sent him crashing over the edge. With a splintering crack his arms dropped from the head board, hands still bound by the bandana but the wood had given way to the force of his orgasm. Artoirel gagged and swallowed, the amount of come that hit his throat was greater than he had imagined. Unable to take the volume, he pulled off, liquid poured from his mouth onto his chin and finally splashed across Stephanivien's abdomen.

Both of them heaved, deep shaking breaths. Artoirel recovered first and reached up to Stephanivien's hands where they fell on his stomach to release the binding. Stephanivien was a mess, his eyes completely glazed over, and he still moaned and whimpered softly on the bed. Artoirel looked at his cock, hard and weeping, his come still dripping out of him.
"Are you still coming?" 
Stephanivien mumbled incoherently in response. Artoirel reached his hand nervously to his twitching member. 
"Can I?" 
Stephanivien nodded weakly, his hands sluggishly reaching down to the Count. Artoirel slid his own hands up to take them rubbing softly at his wrists where the binds had held them.

With his hands occupied, Artoirel lowered his head, his tongue coming out to lick gently at Stephanivien’s pulsating cock. He took the head into mouth and sucked gently, slowly helping the machinist to ride through the final moments of his orgasm. He was careful, listening as his fiancé's breathing began to calm and settle, the grip around his wrists tightening as Stephanivien held onto him dearly. Artoirel continued to lick and suck, drinking down all of the remaining spend, milked from the machinist until he finally began to grow soft.

Stephanivien lay on the bed still breathing hard but evenly now. Artoirel released him slowly from his mouth, letting his spent cock fall between his legs. He looked at the mess he had made, realising how forceful he had been hitting him hard. He rushed to the bathroom to fetch a warm damp cloth and began carefully cleaning Stephanivien's body starting from the top. He pulled back anxiously when he reached his cock, the machinist whimpered softly when his fingers brushed over to lift it.
"I'm sorry." Artoirel's cheeks flushed red. "Does it hurt?"
"Sensitive…" he moaned back. "It's okay…"

Artoirel cleaned him carefully. And returned the cloth to the bathroom, on his way back to the bed he grabbed his water pitcher and glasses bringing them to the bedside table.
"Sit up darling." Artoirel coaxed a groaning Stephanivien up and handed him a glass of water. The machinist drained it in seconds.
"I'm sorry…" Artoirel muttered again, taking Stephanivien's hand and squeezing it. "I don't know what came over me I saw the bandana and I-"

Stephanivien cut him off. He leant over and pulled Artoirel in for a kiss.
"You were incredible Art," he smiled, running his hand up his cheek. "It was a lot at the end, you'll have to build me up next time so I can take it longer."
"Next time?" Artoirel flushed. "You want to do that again?"
"Absolutely." Stephanivien kissed him again and pulled them both back to lie on the bed. "Sorry about the headboard…"
"Halone's tits, father is going to kill me."

Stephanivien laughed as they scrambled to get under the blanket. Artoirel did most of the work tugging down underneath the machinist's limbs heavy from exertion. But after a few minutes of laughing, cursing and kissing they were underneath. Artoirel curled his body against him, enjoying the warmth that radiated from his chest. He ran his hands over the marks he left.
"You've been thinking about that for a while have you?" Stephanivien smirked, stroking through Artoirel's hair.
"Maybe…" Artoirel’s face turned red again as he buried it into his chest.
"You were quite the sight. That will live with me until my dying day."

Artoirel reached up and kissed him again. Soft at first but as the machinist pulled him tighter they became deeper and more insisting. 
"It felt good to have you in me," Stephanivien moaned between kisses. "To feel your tongue and fingers."
"I didn't know if I would like doing it to you. But I remember how good it felt when you did it to me."
Stephanivien kissed along his neck, nipping lightly every so often but not hard enough to leave a blemish.
"I confess now that I've tried, I want to make you come undone by that alone."

Stephanivien froze. 
"Fury Art you can't just say that after you've almost fucked me half to death."
"I didn't actually fuck you mon trésor."
"Don't be a smart arse, Art." Stephanivien kissed him again, using his teeth to nibble Artoirel's bottom lip. "So am I forgiven?"
"For now. I fully expect you will do it again, and again, and again. Every chance you get."
Each pause was punctuated with a firm kiss to the machinists lips. 
"Not if that is the punishment I'll get for doing so." Stephanivien chuckled before yawning deeply.

"You should sleep…" Artoirel whispered, pressing a last kiss to his cheek. 
"Mmhmm" the machinist shut his eyes and pulled Artoirel close. Artoirel settled his head on Stephanivien's chest, a faint blush on his cheek as he remembered his actions.

With a smile on his face, Artoirel fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

"This isn't a debate." Artoirel pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's happening."
"Two counts cannot marry!" Count Dzemael growled at him.
"According to what law?" Artoirel folded his arms. The other Count stared at him, Artoirel suppressed the smirk threatening to form. Of course Artoirel and Aymeric had checked everything. They knew there was no legal reason that should deny Stephanivien and Artoirel marrying, but that didn't mean that they wouldn't meet resistance.
"I-" he opened and shut his mouth several times. "It's not done! Baurendouin surely you must object?"
"Certainly not." Baurendouin said firmly. An air of finality in his voice. "Stephanivien has my full and enthusiastic consent to marry Count Fortemps."

Artoirel smiled briefly before turning his attention back to Count Dzemael.
"There is no law that forbids our union. Just your outdated beliefs on how our society should function, passed down by generations of xenophobic bigots."
The other Count opened his mouth to speak, Artoirel held up his hand and continued undaunted.
"Those antiquated notions have already cost Stephanivien and I almost 2 decades of our lives. Lives we almost lost to the protection of this city. We fought for those beliefs, for the lies passed down from our founding fathers. It's time, gentlemen, that we moved on. That we take this miracle of a second chance to rebuild our city for the sons and daughters you have loved and lost. So that Halone can look down on us now and be proud of the future we strive for."

Artoirel shuffled the papers on the table in front of him. Hearing no further comments, Aymeric coughed politely to bring the focus back to him.
"Now that that is concluded let us begin on what is actually on the meeting agenda…"

Artoirel smiled again as they worked through the proposals for rebuilding the city. Starting with the procurement of materials. Artoirel felt a thrum of energy through him, his chest swelling with pride for himself at keeping a level head in front of his peers. He knew if Stephanivien were here he would have been told how proud he was of him. He couldn't wait to describe the look on his face. Thankfully, the rest of the meeting passed with relative ease. Proposals were discussed and each house was given tasks, from rebuilding the city walls and defences to infrastructure inside. It would keep them occupied for some time, Artoirel knew, but it would be worth it.

Weeks passed quickly, Stephanivien working almost double time in helping turn the raw materials Aurvael’s expeditions brought back. Handling all of the melt while others worked to cut stone and lumber. Francel had begun a wonderful job coordinating efforts to rebuild the city starting with housing in the lower levels and to everyone's surprise he had been joined by Count Durendaire in setting up a relief clinic. The petition for aid had been heard far and wide, supplies from several neighbouring nations had come in, Francel had been overjoyed when a small band from Gridania had remained to help begin a small orphanage.

Stephanivien beamed with pride at his brother's work, there was still a long way to go but Ishgard's future looked brighter every day. He walked along the wall from where he had just helped carry a shipment of metal pipes to be used to create a heated communal bathing area, his eyes catching sight of a familiar tail as the Warrior of Light carried stone towards a half built house.

“Jefara!” He waved to her. “Well met my friend.”
“Well met Stephanivien,” she returned his greeting. “How is your work?”
“Very well. Things are proceeding apace under Francel’s careful eye.”
“He is doing a wonderful job.” She smiled looking over to the stalls where Francel was likely supervising again, he had become invested in helping at the new orphanage. She suspected the reason to be the sweet tempered young lady she had caught him staring at not earlier that day.

“Tesó has been busy preparing for your union. Are you happy the day is upon us?” She turned her attention back to the machinist.
“You mean am I ecstatic to be marrying the love of my life tomorrow?” Stephanivien couldn't help the grin at the thought.

“I owe you everything Jefara.” the machinist dropped to sit on the wall. “My life. My love. Everything.”
“You owe me nothing, Stephanivien”
“Steph.”
“What?”
“Artoirel calls you his sister. Which means you'll be my sister when we marry.” He took her hand gently as she stepped up beside him. “I'd have you call me as they do.”
“Are you sure?” She looked at how small her hand looked in his.
“Quite sure.” He smiled brightly. “Art explained your naming to me, I don't expect you to give me the same if you do not wish to share it.”
“Hmmm.” She squeezed his hand as tightly as she could. 

She let go of his hand and sat on the wall beside him. They talked a little longer until they were set upon by Francel for being idle. With a final smile he waved her goodbye as he returned to the manufactory to finish the day's work.

Up in the pillars, Artoirel was busy working through plans for the wedding as well as his duties as Count. Emmanellain as best as possible had taken on much of the planning himself. Artoirel found he didn't mind his brother's interference. He had insisted at least that he had final approval on everything. Emmanellain had surprised him, arranging for only an intimate ceremony for the family and close friends before a grand ball to celebrate for the rest. He had even extended invitations to the grand affair to Hilda and members of the Watch, not that Artoirel would be surprised should they decline.

The only detail Emmanellain seemed to be hiding from him was the first dance. Whenever he asked, the response was the same: ‘Stephanivien has approved the choice’. And when Artoirel had asked his husband-to-be he smiled and dismissed the question. No amount of coaxing would get the answer from him. I guess there's not long to wait now. Artoirel thought, looking over the final details one last time.

He opened his drawer and pulled out two boxes, each one held an identical ring sized for its intended recipient. They both bore the crest of House Fortemps, a detail that had been agreed on by both families. Should Stephanivien take on the Countship when Baurendouin retires it was agreed that he would keep his name until the decision was made. If Stephanivien passed the title, he would then take Artoirel's name as his own. Either way Artoirel didn't mind, all that mattered would be that Stephanivien would be his husband.

“Brother, have you looked over the final arrangements?”
“Yes I have, thank you Emmanellain.” He picked up a stack of papers near the edge of the desk. “I trust everything is going to plan.”
“They are indeed,” Emmanellain flicked through the sheets looking for any notes. “You were correct in assuming Count Dzemael would decline attending the ceremony itself. However, Count Durendaire and his nephew will be in attendance.”
“Can't say I am surprised. Considering how much he protested.” Artoirel tidied the remaining papers on his desk.
“Well he's always been a cranky old sod hasn't he?”
“No comment.”
Emmanellain laughed.

Behind them the chronometer began to chime. 
“Is that the time?” Artoirel closed his inkwell and cleaned his hands on a cloth to remove any rogue splashes.
“Indeed brother!” Emmanellain tucked the papers into his housecoat. “You dine across the street tonight?”
“I do indeed, I shan't be too late back I can assure you.”
“Good. I will have everything you need sent to your rooms.”
“Unnecessary, I like my own scents, but thank you.” he rose from the desk towards the door.
“Nonsense, a special day warrants special things. You'll thank me later.”
“We will see.”

Dinner that evening was a simple affair, simple by a  high born status: five courses followed by coffee and brandy. All were in high spirits, in anticipation of the event coming, at least in words more than his expression when it came to Count Baurendouin. Artoirel was fussed for details by his soon to be mother-in-law, Emmanellain had been quite tight-fisted about the details and with Stephanivien's secrecy about the first dance, Artoirel found himself comfortable to tease. Anaïs chided him sweetly, calling him a troublesome son already. Artoirel felt cherished in a way he had never felt before, surrounded by such a living family he would soon be calling his own.
“I trust all the fittings went well?” He turned his attention to Laniaitte and Francel.

“Oh yes, we shall all look wonderful.” Francel nodded enthusiastically. “Even Stephanivien despite the jack-”
“Shh!” Laniaitte shushed her younger brother hurriedly.
“What about the jacket…?” Artoirel shot a glance at Stephanivien, oblivious to the conversation taking place, across the room. “Laniaitte please tell me he's wearing a jacket?”
“He's going to look great, don't worry.”
“Laniaitte…”
“I promise!” She held up her hands at his warning stare as it turned back to her. “He's going to look very him.”
“I swear to Halone if he is not in a proper shirt and tie, I might just leave him at the altar…”
“Oh don't be dramatic my son.” Anaïs laughed. “If you think I'll let him get married in nothing but his best, you are mistaken.”
“I shall have to trust your judgement Countess.”

Francel and Laniaitte chuckled nervously. They all knew the ferocity of the Countess. Artoirel hoped Stephanivien would at least cover his chest, there was no way Artoirel could keep a serious face in church when presented with that.  
“Well look at the time!” Francel observed looking towards the fireplace, “You should get some rest for the big day! Still so much to do in the morning you had better relax now.”
“You are quite right Francel, I should take my leave.”

Artoirel rose and smoothed his coat of any creases formed as he sat. Stephanivien and Baurendouin rose with him, the Count stepping in front of his son to lead Artoirel to the door. 
“Tomorrow sparks a new day for Ishgard.” They began to walk to the door. “I wont say I don't still have my reservations for the path you walk. But I have seen Stephanivien's loyalty and passion to know that no act of the Gods will stop him.”

“Father!” Stephanivien scolded behind him.
“Oh shush and begone with you.”
“What? Can't I kiss my fiancé goodnight?”
“No.” Baurendouin turned back to Stephanivien blocking his way forward. “You'll have plenty of time for that when you're married. Up to bed now.”
“But-” Stephanivien protested.
“It's okay mon amour, I'll see you tomorrow.” Artoirel soothed him. The next time we kiss we shall be married.

Stephanivien sighed, defeated and turned for the stairs.
“Until tomorrow.” He called back. 
Artoirel smiled as he watched him go, unaware that Baurendouin had refocused his attention back to him.
“You know when you were both boys, I had often hoped being around you would tame him.”
“Stephanivien could never be tamed.” Artoirel blushed. “But I'd never want him to be. That's why I love him.”
“Hmm.” Baurendouin agreed. “Seems it was you who benefited from his influence in the long term.”
“I think so too,” Artoirel held his hand out to Baurendouin. “Thank you for this evening.”
“My pleasure Artoirel. You have come a long way since you took your Father's mantle, I look forward to calling you my son also.”
“Thank you Baurendouin.”
“Now be gone with you too.”

He shook Artoirel's hand as the steward held Artoirel's coat for him to put on and waved him from the door. 

***

“Stop fidgeting.” Emmanellain hissed at him for what felt like the hundredth time.
“What if he isn't wearing a jacket?” Artoirel tugged at his waistcoat.
“So what if he is not tesó?” Jefara smiled, taking and holding his hands still.
“I just want it to be perfect.”
“It will be perfect brother! Do not worry.”
“Stephanivien will look handsome no matter what he wears.”
“I'm sure you're right..” Artoirel breathed deeply. 

It was almost time, there was a gentle knock on the door, Jefara released Artoirel to answer it.
“We are ready,” came the voice from the other side. 
“Thank you,” Jara dipped slightly in her dress. The red fabric cascading around her as she turned back to Artoirel and Emmanellain.
“Remember not too fast, take breaths. It's going to be amazing!” Emmanellain clasped Artoirel's hand warmly. “I'll see you out there.”

Emmanellain left them through the still open door going out to join the Haillenarte brothers in their places. Artoirel looked himself over one last time in the mirror before taking the Warrior's outstretched hand.
“You good?” She asked as they walked along to the main chapel.
“I still can't believe this is happening.” Artoirel's voice was barely more than a whisper. “I owe you so much. I never thought I could be this happy.”
“I'm glad tesó.” 

They reached the entrance, and in a few moments they would step out to make their way to the altar. 
“Breathe Art,” she patted his arm. “Remember to breathe.”
He was trying, but as the music in the chapel cued their entrance he felt his chest tighten. Jefara nudged him lightly into a walk, leading him firmly into the hall and down towards the bishop waiting.

Artoirel paid little attention to the people standing on either side. He knew the guest list, knew how they would be arranged. At the front, their parents; Edmont accompanied by Ser Aymeric and Alphinaud. Count Baurendouin and Countess Anaïs joined with Count Charlemend and his nephew. Behind them their extended families however big and the main household staff not involved with any of the ongoing work for the reception. A small crowd by the Ishgardian nobilities standard. But it was plenty enough for Artoirel's liking.

Reaching the stand, Jefara released his hand and kissed his knuckles softly before taking her place next to Emmanellain. They both beamed with delight before movement at the back caught their eyes. Artoirel turned to follow his gaze. 

Time stopped.
Artoirel felt his breath catch in his throat as Stephanivien, arm linked with his sister Laniaitte, began to walk down the aisle.

He most definitely wasn't wearing a jacket.

Artoirel found he didn't mind. He looked stunning. His shirt was buttoned up and he wore a well tied cravat encased inside a tailored waistcoat. It was not what the Count envisioned, it was better, the whole outfit screamed the machinist's style. 

Stephanivien met his eyes, and smiled brightly, tossing his expertly curled hair over his shoulders to hang in its low ponytail. Laniaitte, like Jefara, release Stephanivien's hand when they reached Artoirel. Kissing his cheek she stood opposite, joining Aurvael and Francel waiting beside.

Artoirel trembled slightly as Stephanivien came to stand beside him. He held out his hand to Artoirel, the Count shaking slightly, reached out and took it. As soon as he felt the warmth of Stephanivien's skin he sighed contentedly, every bit of tension seeped out of his body as they approached the waiting Bishop.

The ceremony began. 

Stephanivien kept a firm hold of Artoirel's hand throughout, despite standing there in front of all his family, part of him still couldn't believe it was real. He was here, next to Artoirel, his Artoirel and soon he would be his until the day he died. He thought back over everything, to the sweet shy boy he had been sat with through all the tedious family dinners. The one who had run off with him to steal treats from the kitchen, wiping cream from his face when he made a mess. He had waited almost two decades for this moment.

“Artoirel, I don't know where to begin, where to start telling you how much I love you. From that first meeting, our first kiss, I loved you then. Even when we were forced apart I loved you still. I had almost given up hope that you would stop looking at me the way you do. It's not been easy, we are not without our trials. But I would weather them all again if it meant I could hold you again in my arms forevermore.”

Stephanivien smiled softly as he spoke, rubbing circles with his thumbs on Artoirel's hands clasped tightly in his own. Artoirel swallowed, the rush of emotions he felt was overwhelming but with a deep breath he began his own vows.

“Stephanivien, I never thought I would be able to stand here in front of you and tell you how much I love you. I cannot wait any longer to start my life with you, I want to laugh with you and take care of you. And above all, I want to grow old with you. You are my world, Stephanivien, I love you.”

“I love you too, Artoirel.”

Artoirel looked in Stephanivien's eyes for a moment, he could see how much Stephanivien adored him. He could have easily lost himself in those eyes if it wasn't for a tap on his shoulder.

“Brother.” Emmanellain called softly behind him.
Artoirel turned his head, Emmanellain stood just behind him, holding up the box which contained Stephanivien's ring.
Right. The ring.  
They were so close now. Artoirel tried to breathe calmly as he plucked the ring from its velvet bed.

“With this ring,” Artoirel repeated the words the Bishop spoke to them, taking Stephanivien's left hand he slid the ring over the tip and held it. “I take thee as my Husband.”

He looked back at Stephanivien, smiling softly at him. 
“In the eyes of the Halone and all those who bear witness today, let this be the mark of our union beneath the Fury.”
He slid the ring down until it nestled at the base of his finger.

“And now you Stephanivien.” The Bishop turned to the machinist. Aurvael stood behind him, like Emmanellain dutifully holding the matching box for Stephanivien to take.

“With this ring,” Stephanivien echoed the motion, placing the ring gently on Artoirel's fourth finger.  “I take thee as my Husband.”
Finally, Stephanivien added internally as he felt a rush of excitement sliding the ring down Artoirel's finger to settle.
“In the eyes of the Halone and all those who bear witness today, let this be the mark of our union beneath the Fury.”

He took Artoirel's hand in his own fully and squeezed it. They both turned back to the Bishop as he began the final rites. In a few moments it would be over. They would be married, Artoirel could feel the rise in energy emanating from Stephanivien, in turn it filled him with the purest joy.

He turned again to face Stephanivien fully, for the first time aware of all the eyes currently looking at them as the Bishop finished his passage, inviting them to seal their union. Stephanivien stepped up to him, his hand coming to cup his cheek softly.
“Mon trésor,” Stephanivien whispered softly as he leaned in.
“My husband…” Artoirel replied, his hand gripping the front of his waistcoat as he closed the distance between them.

The kiss was short and sweet, enough to satisfy the social need in concluding the ceremony. When they broke apart, music began to swell. Hand in hand, they took their first steps as a married couple. the were soon followed out by their siblings, parents and the people in the chapel. Outside a large gathering waited, cheering as they emerged into the sunlight.

Artoirel looked at Stephanivien, glowing brightly as he laughed, skipping them down the steps as he pulled Artoirel through the crowd.
“Steph!” Artoirel ran to keep pace with him. “Slow down!”
“I can't!” His excited husband called back. Artoirel could only laugh. 

Stephanivien stopped and turned back to him, catching him in a fierce embrace. They were close to the house, Stephanivien had hurried them until they were away from the bustle of people. He wasted no time in capturing Artoirel's lips. Their first kiss as a married couple had been chaste, their second however was like Stephanivien wished to devour him.

There was a brief moment where Artoirel felt fear, being out in the street as Stephanivien kissed him deeply, holding him close to him.

The moment passed, as Artoirel reminded himself that Stephanivien was now his husband.

My husband. 

My love. 

My life.

Chapter Text

“Presenting Count Artoirel de Fortemps and his new husband, Lord Stephanivien.”

Hand clasped tightly the two elezen stepped into the ballroom. Polite cheers erupted around them, Artoirel smiled, smoothing the front of his jacket hoping to hide any signs of the indiscretion that took place moments earlier.

“Steph!” Artoirel moaned hands gripping his husband's shoulders as the front of his trousers were pulled apart. “They're going to call us in any second now.”
“They can wait.” Stephanivien grinned up at him, his hand not stopping as he delved into Artoirel's smalls. “I have to taste you now.”
There was no fighting him, Artoirel knew. He could also not deny the thrill of his husband taking him in hand and expertly stroking him to full hardness. With another devilish smirk Stephanivien took him in his mouth and began to work the length. Knowing time was short Stephanivien worked him quickly, pressing all the sensitive places he knew to bring him to a quick completion.
Artoirel bit his fingers between his teeth to muffle his moan as he came into Stephanivien's eager mouth. Panting deeply, the Count released his iron grip and leant against the wall. Stephanivien chuckled and tucked Artoirel back into his trousers, roughly pulling the untucked shirt sloppily back into place.
“Later I will take my time and pull you apart piece by piece.”

Artoirel had realised a fraction too late, as the doors had opened, that his shirt was untucked still. He cursed mentally as he tried to straighten it without drawing attention to it.
Around the newlyweds, the room was filled with a mix of high and lowborn, Artoirel was impressed by the thought Emmanellain had put into things. He noted Hilda and several members of the watch, as well as several of the common Fortemps Knights and wives. Several faces he did not recognise but in the spirit of the event he was happy that all present could find enjoyment in their nuptials.
Ishgard deserved to have something good.
Artoirel and Stephanivien deserved to have something wonderful. They were both more than happy to open the doors to a brighter tomorrow. 
Stephanivien brought them to a halt in the centre of the room, turning Artoirel towards him. Artoirel took a deep breath. How many years had it been since they last danced together? His mind flickered back, recalling the day Stephanivien had hinted to his affection for him. So young and sweet the memory, and now they would dance again. He wondered for a moment how well Stephanivien would remember the steps, had he been practising for this moment?

He didn't have time to wonder further as two figures stepped out towards the piano. In the sea of hyur and elezen the two stood out, firstly Artoirel recognised Jefara, stepping to the centre of the staged area. Behind her to his surprise another figure he recognised. This time a viera, his ears bent down lopsidedly around his long blue hair. 
“Is that-'' Artoirel stared.
“It is,” Stephanivien smiled. “I found several of his works in your drawer and called in some favours.”
The viera, Ezra Bright by name, sat down at the piano flexing his fingers. Artoirel could feel his emotions swell at the sight of his favourite bard. A rare treat to be able to employee the travelling musician to such an event. The viera looked over to Jefara and at her nod, began to play. 

Stephanivien moved them into position, taking Artoirel's hand as the music struck up. Artoirel was swept up in the soft notes, his breath catching as he recognised the song. 
“You did this all for me?” A tear threatened in his eye.
“Of course, you are my husband.” Stephanivien pulled him in by the waist. 
“Husband…” Artoirel repeated the word, his heart swelling at the thought of being able to call him that now.
“Do you want to lead? Or shall I?”
“You remember how?” Artoirel raised an eyebrow to which Stephanivien grinned.
“I had a good teacher.”

Stephanivien took him firmly and led them into a soft waltz, behind them the soft vocals of Jefara mixing with the viera. Stephanivien had been sure there would be no protest to his request from the Warrior of Light herself, the small auri eager when the introductions had been made to the skilled bard.
Artoirel looked over as Ezra too began to sing, sighing delightedly at how well their voices mixed together.

Hand in hand we dance
We'll take it slow
As moments come and go
Hearts entwined we shine
Sharing our souls
In the fire's glow

Oooo our future flickers in the light
Oooo I wanna look into your eyes

Stephanivien held him close, his fingers rubbing circles into the small of Artoirel's back.

'Til we die
I'll be by your side
Into the afterlife
Our love lives on forever
'Til we die
It's just you and I
Until the end of time
We will be together

Artoirel curled his head into Stephanivien's neck as they continued to turned on the floor.

'Til death do us part
You'll hold my heart
I will be your friend
Dawn and until dark
Sunshine and stars
Reflect the life we've lived

Oooo our future flickers in the light
Oooo I wanna look into your eyes

“I love you so much Art.”

'Til we die
I'll be by your side
Into the afterlife
Our love lives on forever
'Til we die
It's just you and I
Until the end of time
We will be together

“I love you too.”

'Til we die ooo
We will be together
'Til we die ooo
We will be together

'Til we die
I'll be by your side
Into the afterlife
Our love lives on forever
'Til we die
It's just you and I
Until the end of time
We will be together

As the song wound down, so too did Stephanivien, without any hesitation he took Artoirel's chin in hand and kissed him deeply. It didn't matter who was watching, no one else in the room mattered at that moment.

'Til we die ooo
We will be together
'Til we die ooo
We will be together

Applause erupted around them once more as they came apart. The music lulled for only a moment and Stephanivien began to lead him again across the floor, to his right he could see Baurendouin take Anaïs’ arm and bring her to the floor. Other couples soon followed. The evening continued, Ezra playing a mix of music both piano and violin, his tones melodious and mesmerising that Artoirel found himself too captivated to dance. Stephanivien, amusedly, lead him to the side. Leaving him long enough to grab them both a glass of wine so Artoirel could experience the performance to his fullest attention.

During a short interval, the viera rose to greet them.
“My lords, congratulations on your marriage.” He gave a short bow. “I hope the performance was to your liking?”
“Very much so! Words cannot describe how wonderful it is to see you perform here.”
“You are too kind as always, Count Fortemps.” he smiled at him softly. 
“Master Bright, thank you again.” Stephanivien grasped the viera's hand.
“Your performance was incredible.”
“Thank you my lord.” The viera turned his attention to the machinist. “You have come well into your height since we last met. How is your shooting? Still sharp?”
“You've met before?” Artoirel's head swivelled to Stephanivien.
“A long time ago,” Stephanivien tried to recall. “Ten? No more than ten years ago, before the calamity when I spent a few months in Limsa.”
“I helped teach your new husband to shoot,” The viera confirmed. “He had a sharp eye once he mastered the techniques.” 

Artoirel was surprised, he had never mentioned much of his time in Limsa. When he had asked, Stephanivien always told him, it was ‘A story for another time’. He couldn't help his curiosity at hearing more. 
“His skill is unmatched in Ishgard, and has been instrumental in her survival. Thank you Master Bright.” Artoirel offered a short bow. “It has been just as many years since we met I believe, I have followed your work enthusiastically.
“Such a wonderful compliment to receive my Lord,” The viera smiled. “I hope you too have not given up the craft.”
“I try to keep up with it,” Artoirel nodded, “It had been difficult with the war.”
“Perhaps after this evening we can share a drink together?” Stephanivien asked. “It appears we all have lot’s to catch up on.”
“I have no pressing adventure waiting, I am at your disposal my Lords.” 
Ezra flashed them both a brilliant smile, bowing himself before returning to the stage. 

Artoirel watched the rest of the performance, Stephanivien's arms wrapped around him as the others danced behind them. At different points people came to talk and congratulate them, the Count found it difficult to tear his eyes away from the bard. Each time he did, it was with a smile, being polite and courteous with each guest.
“Should I be jealous?” Stephanivien whispered in his ear, quiet to not be caught by the young master Leveilleur who stood with them. 
“W-what?” Artoirel startled.
“You seem to have eyes for only one man this evening and he isn't your husband.”
“I-I'm not,” Artoirel stuttered. “It's the music!”
“I tease,” Stephanivien kissed his ear. “I know you only have eyes for me.”
Artoirel blushed and turned to look at him, the lustful timber in his voice causing his spine to shiver.
“I love you,” he nuzzled into his shoulder, still embarrassed. “Only you.”
“I know you silly fool,” Stephanivien kissed the top of his head. “I won't deny he is beautiful to look at. But not as beautiful as you.”
“Menace,” Artoirel swatted him. “I hardly believe that no one else has caught your attention all these years.”
“Perhaps…”

***

The rest of the evening passed in good spirits. After the music had ended people began to leave, Stephanivien and Artoirel bid them all good night, until it was only their parents left.
“What a fine evening,” Edmont smiled.
“I agree,” Baurendouin shook his hand.
“You boys look ready to retire,” Anaïs cupped both their faces lovingly. “We will take care of the last of it here.”
“Are you sure maman?” Stephanivien asked, she smiled at him at how polite he was, despite his evident eagerness to whisk away his husband.
“Yes, begone with you both!” 
“Goodnight Father, Baurendouin, Anaïs.” Artoirel nodded to each of them in turn, Stephanivien was already eagerly tugging on his hand, leading him from the ballroom.

As soon as they were out of sight and up the stairs, Stephanivien pushed him against the wall, his knee pressing between his legs and throwing his full weight against him eagerly, 
“Finally,” he pressed his erection against him. “As wonderful as the party was, this is what I've been looking forward to.”
Art pulled him in to kiss, not holding back anything as he gripped the front of his waist coat. He couldn't deny that he too had been eager to repay Stephanivien for accosting him earlier. He had thought to punish his husband, how best to show him how he felt about his previous display. 
“Shall we retire to our room?” Artoirel broke the kiss. “I wish to enjoy you to the fullest.” 
“Is that so?” Stephanivien ran his hand down to his hip, gripping him tightly. “What if I wish to take you against this wall?”
“I think my staff will take offence to such a display.” Artoirel moaned, a slight smirk on his face, he moved his own hand down to Stephanivien's pants and popped the buttons easily. 
“Is that right?” His husband chuckled. “Your hand in my trousers suggests otherwise.”
“Well I am the head of this house,” Artoirel rubbed him softly. “I can take certain liberties.” 

Stephanivien grinned and let him touch, he enjoyed the playful side that only he got to see. He was about to do the same when hurried footsteps approached from the stairs. Stephanivien pressed against him trapping his hand from view, he relaxed slightly when he saw it was only the Warrior of Light coming up the stairs looking slightly flustered.
“J-jara?” Artoirel flushed red, shame flushing at his cheeks despite the statement he had just made.
“Ah- tesó I-” She looked equally bashful, Artoirel realised she wasn’t alone. With a faint colour to her own cheeks she slipped passed, dragging her own companion with her. Stephanivien stared, his eyes following the pair until he disappeared through her door.

“Was that-?” Stephanivien gawked.
“We saw nothing.” Artoirel squeezed his cock to remind him where his hand was.
“But-”
“Later.”
Still with his hand inside his trousers Artoirel dragged his husband down the hall, once they had reached their room, he pushed him through the door, pulling his hand back so he could shut and lock it.
He turned and leant against the door, looking at Stephanivien who tugged at his own waistcoat and necktie, stripping them eagerly. It felt surreal, as Artoirel caught sight of the ring on his husband’s finger once more, to know that this was real.

Surging forward, Artoirel threw himself into Stephanivien's waiting arms. His husband's hands wound around him holding him at the waist, Artoirel in turn threaded his through Stephanivien's soft curls, pulling them free from his hair tie. Golden locks cascaded over his shoulders as their tongues entwined, for a moment Artoirel let himself drown in his mouth. But his need for more grew with each second. He began to make quick work of the renainder of Stephanivien's clothes, continuing where his husband had left off. Taking the hint Stephanivien returned the gesture, divesting him of first his jacket then his own waistcoat.

“I want you so badly.” Stephanivien moaned against his lips, hands gripping at Artoirel's hips once his shirt hit the floor. “I need to be inside you.”
Artoirel placed a hand firmly against the blonde's broad chest stopping his attempt to turn him to the bed.
“No.”
“No?” Stephanivien was surprised.
Artoirel pushed the fabric of his trousers down slowly, Stephanivien's breath caught at the heated gaze as Artoirel looked up at him.
"As the head of this house, on my wedding day," he backed Stephanivien to the bed. "I am expected to lay with my wife and fill her womb with my seed..."
Stephanivien swallowed hard as his trousers hit the ground, his smalls following a moment later.
"But you are not my wife," Artoirel continued coaxing him to sit on the bed. "You are my husband and you have no womb..."
He stroked Stephanivien's cheek up to his ears and along to the tip, watching his partner lean into his hand. He also felt Artoirel's knee slide between his legs, brushing against his eager erection. The Count leant in closer, lips a mere hairs breadth apart.
"Nevertheless, I will fill you with my seed tonight."

Without letting him reply, Artoirel kissed Stephanivien deeply, hands twisting into his hair to bring them closer together. He felt hands at his waist desperately trying to remove his trousers, fumbling with the fastenings as they were almost ripped from him. He smirked into the kiss and broke it, pushing Stephanivien backwards. His husband moved up the bed planting himself in the pillows, watching Artoirel as he rid himself of his remaining clothes and move to the bed stand. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a small jar, recently refilled in anticipation of this night.

Stephanivien had not expected that Artoirel would take him like this, despite him asking if he would like to do so one day, but he couldn't deny that it was the perfect night to fulfil his dream. Artoirel climbed onto the bed spreading the muscled legs of his new husband and kneeling between them, pausing slightly.
"Tell me what feels good."
Stephanivien smiled and got comfortable, despite how confident he had sounded, how dominating, Artoirel was nervous and Stephanivien could see it. Even though he had touched him there before, there was a thicker tension in the air around them now.
"I will." Stephanivien nodded encouragingly.
Artoirel opened the jar and coated his first two fingers, bringing them carefully between his cheeks. Stephanivien held his legs for him, spreading them even wider to give Artoirel space to work.

Stephanivien let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding when he felt the first touch against his entrance. Artoirel rubbed his fingers around the puckered muscle before pressing in carefully. Stephanivien moaned, relaxing as best he could as he felt the intrusion of his husband’s finger push slowly into him.
"Is that okay?" Artoirel asked anxiously.
"Keep going," Stephanivien nodded.
The Count slowly began to work his finger in and out, pressing in a second when Stephanivien begged for more. With each breach of his fingers he grew bolder, curling them to catch that sweet spot Stephanivien was fond of stoking for him.
The effect was not lost on Stephanivien either, he writhed beneath his meticulous hands, cock twitching excitedly with every movement. When Artoirel withdrew to recoat them he whined pathetically, already missing the sensation.
Artoirel chuckled at him, remembering how he had been the first time.
"Impatient as always." He mused.
"I've wanted this for so long." Stephanivien smiled up at his trying to catch his breath again as Artoirel this time pushed three fingers into him. "Wanted you- like- this-."
"I never imagined this would happen, to be here like this with you on our wedding night." He moved his fingers faster making Stephanivien squirm further, cautious to not push him to completion too soon.
"I confess I'm scared I'll wake up in the morning to find it all a dream or that I am in Halone's halls." He admitted softly.

Artoirel paused his movements, holding them inside Stephanivien as he lets his emotions settle.
"Art?" Stephanivien looked at him, his chest heaving deeply. "I'm here, we're here, it's okay."
The Count nodded, pulling his fingers out and taking himself in hand. He gave himself several strokes to ready himself with the remaining oil, mixing with his own precome leaking softly, before bringing himself to Stephanivien's twitching entrance.
"I'm ready," he smiled reaching to cup Artoirel's face, "Take me, my Lord, my husband. I am yours."

Artoirel pressed in slowly, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on Stephanivien's cheek as he adjusted to the new feeling. He kept himself pressed against his husband, face tucked into his neck as he kept going, listening to Stephanivien's breathing for any signs if discomfort.
"More," he heard a soft whine. "More. Please."
Artoirel sat back up and took a firm a grip, he wasn't all the way in but he began to thrust shallowly, getting used to the motion and the feeling of Stephanivien wrapped around him. He felt arms grip tightly around the neck, his husband holding on to him as if he might float away if he didn't. Artoirel teased him more, pressing harder on his next thrust. He was rewarded with a deep moan, Stephanivien's breath catching as he looked at him wide eyed.
"Are you okay?" Artoirel stroked his cheek, worried he had hurt him.
"Y-yes," he leant up to kiss Artoirel. "More, I need more of you in me. Please. I beg you. Sow your seed in me."

How could Artoirel refuse such a request from his husband. He took the blonde's hands and pinned them above his head.
"Stay." He issued a soft command, hoping a firm tone would hide the still present nervousness he felt. Stephanivien nodded, twisting his hands into the bedsheets to anchor himself. He didn't want to risk breaking the wood. Again.
Artoirel chuckled at him, seeing him obey without hesitation and enjoying the fact that he was the only one who could do so.

With a shaking hand Artoirel lifted Stephanivien's leg to push it back against his chest, he could see clearly now the way his cock had half disappeared into his husband's body. He twitched excitedly, seeing Stephanivien spread out like this before him. He held onto his hip and leg, pulling out a little further before he snapped his hips back in as hard as he dared. He repeated the motion, listening to Stephanivien's gasping begging as set a steady pace.

He felt incredible. Artoirel loved the tightness that enveloped him, quivering around him as he continued thrusting. There was a tearing sound as Stephanivien threw his head back moaning deeply as Artoirel finally filled him fully. He stopped when he felt his hips meet Stephanivien's, doubling over slightly as he caught his breath and gave himself a moment not to release. So focused on his husband, he had not realized how close he had become already.
"Halone take me now." Stephanivien whined. "For nothing can compare."
"Such pretty words mon amour." Artoriel panted, he moved again beginning his movements again slowly. He knew he would not be able to drive Stephanivien the same way he did to him, but nor was he too weak to not give a good try. He pushed his husbands legs further apart, holding on to his elevated leg as an anchor so he could thrust into him.

"I love you." He grazed his teeth against the skin of Stephanivien's calf. "My husband."
Stephanivien whined in response, Artoirel chuckled looking at the ripped bed sheets. At least it wasn't the bed. He ran his hand up his chest and took one of Stephanivien's hands. "Are you close?" He asked softly between thrusts.
"Y-Yes" came Stephanivien's broken response.
"Is this how you imagined it?" He laced his fingers into the machinist's tightly. "Is it everything you wanted?"
"Y-y-y-yesss!" Stephanivien arched of the bed at a particulartly hard thrust, his cock bouncing between them, weeping and neglected. Artoirel released his leg and spread it to the side, his free hand now taking Stephanivien's cock into it. He tried to stroke it in time with his thrusts, clumsily trying to match the rhythm. Stephanivien clenched around him, closing in on his peak now that Artoirel had taken him in hand.

"Hold on to me." He released Stephanivien's hand to allow him to throw them around his neck. He continued to thrust and stroke, swapping the hands on Stephanivien's cock so he could push back his leg once more for better access.
"Art~" Stephanivien whined. His breath now erratic like Artoirel's movements. He had been so engrossed again on his husband's pleasure that his own building orgasm slammed into him unexpectedly.

He jerked to a halt, crying out as he buried himself fully. Stephanivien moaned deeply feeling the heat blossom inside him as Artoirel shuddered and spilled. He collapsed forward onto Stephanivien's chest, lost in his high until he heard a soft whimper beneath him.

Artoirel jumped up startled, realizing Stephanivien's cock was still in his hand, hard and throbbing. Collecting himself, he started to stroke Stephanivien again, his own softening cock slipping from his husbands body in a sticky mess.
"I'm sorry!" Artoirel cursed hurriedly trying to get Stephanivien to his own orgasm.
"Slow down," he whined in response. "Not so rough-"
Artoirel felt sheepish, to have finished without him, he had wanted so desperately for it to be good for him.
"I wanted to finish together," Artoirel leant down to kiss him. "I'm sorry but you felt so good."
"It's okay." Stephanivien soothed him. " You were still wonderful."
"Do you want my mouth on you?" Artoirel offered anxiously.
"Mmm," Stephanivien moaned. "Please."

Artoirel still with his hand working him, slid down the bed between his legs.
"Fury," Artoirel gasped seeing the way his spend dripped from Stephanivien's entrance. He couldn't help but trace his fingers up his sweating skin, scooping up the escaped rivulet of spend. Without thinking he pushed it back in. Stephanivien arched off the bed again.
"Do you like that?" Artoirel felt emboldened. "To be full of me?"
"Halone have mercy." Stephanivien whined as Artoirel thrust his fingers in him again once more. It felt different this time, with how stretched he was from Artoirel's cock and the mix of lubricant and spend. Stephanivien seemed to enjoy it, so Artoirel continued.

Remembering he had offered his mouth Artoirel leant down, but instead of taking the head on his tongue instead he went straight for his entrance. Last time he had not been able to lick so deeply, but now covering the entired muscle with his mouth, Artoirel pushed his tongue as deep as he could into his husband. He could taste himself, a clear distinction between how Stephanivien had tasted last time he was on his tongue, mixed with the sweeter already present fluid.
He felt a hand on his head attmepting to push him deeper. He greedily lapped at him, clearing the insides he could reach of the mess he had made.

He pumped Stephanivien's cock in tandem, not stopping as he felt the familiar pulse of his husband's orgasm burst over his hand. He would milk him dry as Stephanivien shoved his face hard into him holding him as his hips raised to meet him. Stephanivien trembled as he came down collapsing on the bed and releasing his hold on Artoirel.
The Count sat up gasping in air, wiping his mouth of excess liquids. He looked down at Stephanivien shaking beneath him in the afterglow of his release.

"Fury preserve me." Stephanivien cursed again joyfully, panting to catch his breath. "That tongue of yours is trully wicked."
"I cant help how good you taste down there." Artoirel blushed leaning over the side of the ned to grab Stephanivien's discarded shirt. He wiped his face and Stephanivien's thighs placing gentle kisses along the skin working up to his now soft cock. He cleaned Stephanivien's orgasm with his mouth, eliciting several moans as he enjoyed the sensations before it became to sensitive to touch.

When they were clean enough Artoirel collapsed beside him, falling in to his husbands waiting arms.
"I'm sorry you didnt finish with me inside," Artoirel burried his head shamefully as they pulled the covers over themselves. "Next time I'll do better."
"Dont worry mon trésor," Stephanivien kissed his forehead. "All that matters is that we are both satisfied. I can only speak for myself in saying I am thoroughly pleased with how tonight turned out."
"Me too," Artoirel reached up to kiss him. "I would like to feel you around me like that again."
"Good because I very much want you to do that again to me."

Several more kisses were exchanged as their bodies began to give in to the days exhaustions. Artoirel was the first to close his eyes as sleep began to claim him, his head resting fully on Stephanivien's large expanse of chest.
"I love you so much Art." Stephanivien brushed his bangs from his face, tucking them behind his ear as he settled Artoirel's body fully on top of him.
"Love you~" came the sleepy response.

Stephanivien circled his arms around him, holding on as he too drifted off to sleep.