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royal-writer · 5 years

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Romantic Woos 2

i have so many gd tissues surrounding me rn

Courses. Her mouth watered at the options; all the choices, all the dishes. It took restraint not to dive into platter after platter, hardly believing that the wealthy and elite got to feast like this regularly. Yes, perhaps the meals had been outlined and approved earlier on a regular day without guests, but the sheer volume and time it took to prepare and eat this enormity baffled and excited her for each new plate.

She feared by dessert there would be no room left in her tummy. Dinner in itself had been a filling delight of whiskey sauce mushrooms and cheese-stuffed leg of lamb coated in a garlic butter sauce she could have drank like soup. The salad she picked at, hoping not to be rude by snubbing off the radishes (such awful, tasteless things) and longing to save room for the best part of the meal: dessert.

Sure enough, her head perked up as the servers finally piled in with mint-sorbet pallet cleansers and shielded dishes with glimmering copper domes. Essätha woofed down her small scope of the chilling ice cream regretfully, her head aching as she pawed at the next set of silverware Amon had instructed her for the lash course hopefully.

Chuckling, the nobleman leaned back to observe her, leaving some melted remnants of his own sorbet in his tiny bowl. She shot him a dirty look, but he still wore the same dazzling gleaming smile so softly in response. It was frustrating, and she was eager to whip her head back to observe the servers pacing around with the next plates rather then become fixated on the softness of his dark eyes.

“Watch it, Essie, you’re about to start drooling,” Adela teased, waiting patiently for the dome to be removed, hands in her lap.

Essätha’s face grew instantly hot with humiliation. It was a crude slap in the face to her insecurities. Still a starved street-rat, always left wanting. Touch-starved, food-starved; it didn’t matter, when she wanted, it gnawed and clawed like a vicious parasite.

Amon cleared his throat beside her, boldly raising his chin towards the tiefling. “That’s enough, Adela.”

The jeweler scoffed. “I was only-”

“Enough,” he stressed.

Adela snapped her trap shut, and huffed.

Beside her, Essie could feel the barest touch beneath the table. Fingers against her wrist as she tightly held to the linen in her lap. She jolted slightly to the brush of digits, goosebumps racing over her skin as her posture straightened with surprise.

Before the tension in the room could grow, or her breath become any short, Lord Amon retracted his touch as the tops of the plates were lifted all at the same time.

A strawberry shortcake stacked three layers tall sat before her. Her hand immediately reached for the last utensil left once more.

“Oh gods this looks delicious!” She whispered; fork split into the biscuit as she tossed a glance over towards the nearest server. “Give the cooks my gratitude, everything has been splendid and artfully made.”

The finely-dressed gentleman turned pink at the acknowledgment, and nodded. They moved to hurry out with the others.

Amon chuckled softly once more. She didn’t spare him a glance, already shoveling the first mouth-watering bite in.

Even careful after the first bite; taking minuscule nibbles to savor and enjoy, the finale was there and finished too soon. Her eyes tore across to the others. All except for Rava still with something on their dish as they chattered and laughed with each other. Conversing rather than indulging.

Sighing, Essie resisted putting her elbows on the table to drown her sadness in her hands like she wanted. Oh saccharine scrumptious, always gone too soon.

“Hey.”

The quiet of the gentle voice barely caught her attention, but the callused hand definitely did. It warmed her skin, and made her head turn up towards him expecting.

Wearing only half-a-smile, Amon nodded his head towards his plate, and the fork he had hovering over it topped with his own choice of dessert. A pecan nut cake, coated in a drizzle of caramel sauce. The shine of the sugared caramel threatened to drip from his genuine silver made utensil.

He arched an eyebrow. “Care to try some?”

‘No’ would probably be the appropriate thing to say here, but as a bleak commoner and street-rat, she didn’t think it expected of her. She nodded with genuine enthusiasm.

Snickering, he offered out the fork. Stupidly unable to take the social cue, she mistook the gesture, and nipped the cake right off rather than taking the fork. Another laugh; this one muffled as he placed it back onto his plate.

Slowly chewing through the tender morsel, Essätha finally swallowed, face burning. “I’m sorry- were you wanting me to take…”

“I was,” he admitted, chest still shaking as he tried to contain his laughter.

Her face burned brighter. She gaped.

“No, it’s quite alright,” Amon informed her gently, taking her hand. “Do not be ashamed, I’m not upset.” A smile. “Any good?”

The flush moved down her throat now she nodded slowly. “Yes,” she squeaked. Good was an understatement. It was soft and chewy and the syrupy consistentancy made it even more tempting than her tart shortcake. She wished she’d gotten what he had instead.

The nobleman e nodded. Splitting his slice of cake in half, he looked around before scooting his plate over, and tipping half of it over onto her dish.

“Amon-” she hissed desperately, “I couldn’t-”

“My treat,” he whispered close, passing her a wink. “Sweets to fuel your sweetness. You appreciate them more than I do anyway.”

Grinning sheepishly; still a little embarrassed, she accepted the gift with a slight respectful dip of her head. Her hand found his beneath the table as he’d done to her, and traced her fingers along his before giving his hand a squeeze.

“Thank you, m’lord.”

His features tinted a pinkish color, and he nodded before almost nervously drawing his hand back. She tried not to question it. Still embarrassed, she took another bite of the cake on her plate, melting back into the upholstery lined chair.

The nobleman’s gaze flickered over her, briefly, with a timid grin before he went back to poking at the delicate cake; an almost dreamy sigh escaping him she didn’t even notice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was dark. Dark even for her. A moonless night; no torches in sight. Her hand rested against her chest, listening to the sound of her breathing and elevated heart rate. The dream was faded; already far away, but like the bony clutch of demon’s hand, the fear rested upon her breast.

“Amon?”

The name barely rasped out of her tight throat. She didn’t know where it came from. She hadn’t thought of it; it slipped out of her as one’s breath. It rhymed with protection and had a synonym for safety.

A grunt echoed beside her. The comforter began to move, and her legs tensed. Fight or flight. Flee. Her head pounded. Her chest felt heavy.

Air rattled out of her lungs. A great release. How had a whisper even woken him; a bear in hibernation, his sleep usually so deep. The weight of his heavy arm around her; holding her in, grounding her to the solid shape of him.

“M’here,” he grumbled, half asleep. “I’m here.”

Essätha dragged in a breathless gust. The tremor in her fingers ceased. The tension in her spine relaxed. The bed no longer felt like the confining cage of steel bars, but of a pillowing cloud once more.

His snoring continued, gradually, as she melted; turned to putty. Her hands she rested against the back of his, feeling that nameless feeling lighten the burdens on her soul as it always did around him. The radiance of him, burning into her like a sun gone supernova.

She swallowed, and swallowed again against the tightness in her throat. Fear chasing longing. Wanting without understanding.

The thought of another lonely night ever again in her life felt like a torture she couldn’t bare to face. A future she didn’t want to survive in anymore.

No place ever felt more of belonging.

“I love you.”

The first time she finds the courage to dare labeling the feeling, and he is asleep, breathing warmly against her nape so she shivers in response.

Sighing weakly, Essätha held his hands a bit tighter, praying she’d never forget the feeling of home that rested in his embrace.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Make yourself at home. The words still sank into Essätha, weighted into the pit of her stomach. As though the feeling was easy to come across. It felt like the manor of Briarton had ownership over her, rather than the other way around. Large and imposing, its many walls and ceilings a foreign and unfamiliar territory.

She held only to the softness of his eyes, and the delicate whisper of his voice in the words.

This should mean something to her. This was what she’d wanted, after all: a house, fortune, securities, a comfortable living without struggle and fear.

None of these things felt like how she’d dreamed they would. None of them brought the solace she’d prayed for.

Then, night after night, the house began to change.

It started small. The curtains drawn open. Then the bedroom, rearranged. She watched with silent curiosity as new novels were added to the library on subjects she enjoyed; when a couch was removed for a favorable, less stiff fabric for something she could sink into.

Tentatively she found her voice.

The color of the curtains were changed; a desk sanded and repainted. A new throw rug for the upstairs sitting room was rolled out, and flowers of her choosing placed in window boxes that carried in their perfume through open windows. The dining room gained a new painting she found at market, and a new mat placed near the front door to leave boots.

She was speechless when she discovered the new wardrobe and dresser in the bedroom rolled in one day. The realization struck her only then that the Illiad manor was no longer simply a place to rest her head, it was becoming part of her dream.

Should she worry for when he grew tired of change?

Should she worry for when he grew tired of her?

It was a balmy day, the sun shining and windows left open to let in the draft as she lay reading in the sitting room with Caesar at her side and Green Bean looped in one of her indoor enclosures when she heard the tiptoeing of feet shuffling throughout the manor. Thinking nothing of it, she flipped through the pages of her novel in silence.

It continued. Again, and again, and again.

A knock at the door on her right, and she looked up to see the trophies of the hunt staring at her. She grimaced at their judgment, and snapped the book closed, leaving a bookmark in place.

Caesar groaned and lifted his head as she stood up to approach the door. Creaking it open, only the staircase and wide floor plan filled with immobile soldier figures and imposing taxidermy predators greeted her.

She went to close the door, and something slapped against wood. Her head pivoted around, spotting a scroll wrapped to the handle.

Unwinding the string, Essätha unfurled the parchment to glance upon the words scribed into it.

My darling Essätha,

You’ve taken me on an incredible journey of love and acceptance.

I would like to take you on a journey of discovery as well.

For further instructions, head to the place we share a cup of coffee every morning.

Her lips parted. Staring from the paper around the room, she saw no sign of the crafty nobleman who left the message.

Her hands shook. She crumbled the note slightly; grip tightening with a wave of swelling emotion.

As a burn of excitement traced the shape of her heart, she took off in a hurry through the room. The almost childlike zeal caught the housekeepers off guard, who paused amongst work to see her passing with shared glances of amusement and surprise.

Barging into the dinging room, she flung headlong into the room. Her bright eyes darted across the room, spotting an envelope sitting neatly at the table, propped up by a steaming hot cup of coffee; milky white in color.

Breathless, she inched forward to pick it up. This one was sealed with the Illiad wax seal, and had sprigs of baby’s breath in the hues of dark blue. She slipped a fingernail beneath the edge, tearing it open as a scent of cologne wafted off the paper.

Her heart thundered. Essie picked up the hot beverage to sip while reading the paper.

Check the place you sneak

Stealing sweets at late-night peak

“Oh,” she snickered, her face glowing as she pressed the letter against her chest. Beaming from ear to ear, she skipped through the dining room, her eyes tracing the piano in the corner and the arrangement of flowers in pots.

In the hallway, a small table sat with kick-knacks from their explorations. She smiled to herself, knowing that the single drawer contained nothing more than mementos. Trivial things; documents from travel, letters from friends, a paper weight or two. She giggled at vase with a chip in it on the floor before entering the next corridor, remembering how she’d knocked it over and broken the top and how she’d cried in apology for hours despite Amon’s reassurance that it had character now.

There was a small seat in the next hall, near the entry to the cobblestone room meant for gardening tools that lead to the basement, which housed outdoor boots and had a pillow that matched nothing in the house she just had to have upon it. A few hooks dangled, holding scarves and hats and a single light jacket.

She picked up the pace, pausing only long enough to study the rock atop another short end-table with their initials painted into it with whimsy innocence before entering the kitchen.

“Hello, miss Essätha,” a maiden greeted her with an endearing smile.

“G’day,” she acknowledged brightly, sliding past her to head for the pantry.

The lady knitted her brow. “Are you hungry, miss? I could whip you up something?”

“No no- that’s alright,” she laughed, bracing the doors open.

Another note. This one sat upon a fancy box. She picked it up, unaware of the young lady peering over her shoulder as she turned it over. Tiny, almost blinding blue lobelia’s were sealed in the wax, just as the others had been.

She slid her finger under this one, the inviting aroma of his scent coming off the paper as she folded it open.

See the library for a favorite read,

A cover with a knight, and his faithful stead

“My,” the maiden hummed thoughtfully, glancing sideways at the blush burning high on her cheeks.

Embarrassed, Essie folded the note over to hold carefully with the other. She reached for the box; her hands shaking as she picked it up to pry open the lid.

Lines of chocolates. A sniff, and she could pick up different scents coming off of them. One filled with raspberry, another topped with sea salt. There was ones topped with caramel drizzles, and others which appeared suspiciously plain.

Hugging this too to her chest, she offered the maiden a shy nod. “E-Excuse me-”

“Oh surely,” they said, offering a knowing smile as they stepped side.

She cut through her starting place; the downstairs sitting room, where the mastiff and serpent peered at her as she passed. Her feet took two stairs at a time; the runner carpet catching on her shoes once or twice as she grinned from ear to ear.

Mounted frames with various items clung to the wall. Feathers in one, a pressed flower in another; one of the very first Amon ever gifted her. She felt a swelling in her heart as her gaze lingered upon the lonesome rose bloom, and drifted along. Bookends that resembled common creatures of Etheron they’d bought together, and a bonsai they’d trimmed and cultivated sat upon a nearby nook with some stacks of books.

Recognizing the novel sitting on top; a daring adventure fantasy with a lady knight, Essätha gingerly flipped it open. She frowned, and began to skim through the pages, stopping on the one where the letter was left. Page 362, the one where the knight kissed the woman she’d been pining after for years without saying a word.

Careful not hurt the slightly bruised ivy-flowers any more than they already were, she opened the letter. This one contained not just another note, but a series of sketches. Some were of flowers. As she flipped through them, a gasp lifted from her. Crude, and poorly done, various sheets seemed to be of her. Silhouettes more than anything, but the strokes grew bolder. They seemed to be progressive of things over time, as shapes became more detailed, until she found what appeared to be the latest. A small portrait, the graphite smudged slightly to indicate the flow of her wild hair, staring out a window with a light smile and half-closed eyes.

Your beauty captures my heart,

For your next destination, there are many charts

Smearing the tears along the corners of her eye, Essätha topped her box of chocolates with the letters and cards of drawings to head through the sitting room for the alchemy study. The light of the sun shone in here perfectly, illuminating a painting they’d gotten together what felt like ages ago now. It almost a perfect photo of the moment; eyes immersed in each other, wild grins, hands interlocked.

She slipped past the fireplace and it’s new set of tools into the next hallway. The door to the alchemy room was slightly ajar, and as she pushed it open the light of a lamp flickering greeted her.

Realizing it was near the maps, she stepped hesitantly over to examine the rolls and unfurled pieces. Sure enough, there was a letter tucked beneath one. Keeping the edges of the map unfurled were two new gifts: an exotic perfume with words she couldn’t describe, and a massage oil that had the soothing aroma of lavender. The very same plant was locked within the seal.

Follow the hallway we’ve walked hand-in-hand,

Your next clue is easy to understand

With a hum, she added the two bottles on top of her growing pile and blew out the lamp before stepping out of the room. She closed it quietly behind her, eyes darting against the hallway walls while moving skeptically.

Metal weaved in intricate patterns to create an abstract design motif. A poorly done painting of flowers set beside each other they’d done in the garden for laughs.

She settled her gaze on a large fan near the end of the hall. Hand crafted, it had a landscape embroidered upon its fabric. Tucked behind it was yet another letter, this one with a line dangling from it containing a simple thin bracelet with a serpent charm looping around itself.

Plucking them each off where they hung, Essätha took the time to open the clutch and place the brilliant gleaming silver gift on before turning to open the letter. Forget-me-nots, this time. As if she ever could.

Next is the place where we last kissed,

A dragon spied us, but you I could not resist

“Cheesy,” she snickered, placing the message over top the others, slipping through the next entry way. The ticking grandfather clock they’d picked out together greeted her before she moved on into the long room nearby, overlooking the balcony staring down at the dining room. The aloft fake dragon bones peered indeed down upon guests. The entire room had shelving and tables now, lined with enough stories in the trinkets and totems left there from adventures to spend days talking about.

Carefully resting upon the wooden frame of the sturdy balcony, a leather-bound book with yet another message balanced on it. She picked it up slowly, examining the carvings in the empty journal’s leather. It seemed to be depictions of a million things; wolves and snakes, trees and flowers, hearts and intertwined fingers.

With a softness in her gaze, she pried the envelope to this one open as well. Cologne and pink fairy foxglove nested on the front.

Look up to the place,

That reflects your stunning face

“Look up?” she mused. Her eyes moved in front of her, to the ceiling, and the across with confusion.

A mirror, propped up on a far table, caught her eye as light bounced off its reflective surface. She hesitated before approaching it, staring blankly at her reflection. Her eyes moved down to the letter beneath it. A brand new quill lay over it. Chamomile this time was sealed in the wax.

A dreamy relaxing epilogue to the day,

Soaked and scented bubbles pave the way

Taking both her new gift and the latest note, Essie scurried out of the room and through the last hall. Her eyes drifted down to the garden through the windows, beaming brightly as she held to her goods with a wave of overwhelming adoration.

The sitting room to the bedroom was quiet. Beside a book on the coffee table, there lay a bouquet of freshly cut flowers from the garden. Each one was in full bloom; soft petals and arranged with a tender hand. Colors and shapes; each unique and vibrant. Their fragrance was so strong that it radiated around the sofas.

Her heart seized and melted. She sniffled softly, and laid her arrangement of gifts so far beside the latest gift before moving into the bedroom.

Making her way around the room without a glance, she stepped behind the privacy screen towards the claw-foot tub. Sure enough, another note and a set of luxurious bath bubble bottles sat at the bottom.

She retrieved both, studied the wood sorrel flowers for a brief moment, and opened it.

Have you noticed a pattern on your quest?

The final gift is where we lay intertwined at night to rest.

Giving a shake of her head, Essätha sat the products, and this note, on the nearby vanity before cautiously making her way to the bed.

A final envelope, and nothing else. A steam cut from a set of bleeding hearts hung from the wax seal. She pried it open slowly.

This place of residence could be your forever,

Say that you’ll stay here, come whatever.

It already has your spirit built into the foundation,

And I vow to you a lifetime of dedication.

Your secrets I swear to keep, your smile I promise to uphold,

Please stay with me. Let us grow old.

Behind her, a thud of boots. The heavy hinges of the oak door squeaked.

The letter fell from her hands and upon the comforter.

Echoing the last words written at the very bottom, a tender voice spoke.

“Turn around, Essätha.”

She did. Unsteady, but she did.

Wearing a shy, tender lop-sided grin and his best dress clothes; with the collar tight against his throat the way he hated and the cufflinks she bought him pinned in, Amon stepped slowly towards her. The cologne that had been perfuming the letters exuded from him; amber notes and pine trees.

Her eyes devoured him. The affection shining in his dark eyes; the creases around his eyes in the most endearing smile.

The ring box in his hand, as he stepped closer and began to kneel

Her knees buckled; hitting the side of the bed to sink into the mattress with a choked noise and tears spilling over faster than she could comprehend the fact she was crying.

“Yes!”

Surprise lit up his wide-eyes. Amon chuckled, a spring of tears in the corners of his eyes as he rasped, “I haven’t even asked-”

“YES!”

“My speech-”

“Yes,” she half cooed, half choked on sobbing as she slid off the side of the bed, grabbing the scruff of his beard. Her hands were shaking. Her chest heaved.

Seeing the house; the care of the letters, the sparkle of joy lighting up his face…

He was home.

She was home.

And as another sob tore through her; louder than the rest, she flung herself into his embrace. The arms that encircled her and brought her right in to where she belonged. The sound of his pulse racing with her own; his unsteady breathes, the smell of him; warm and abrasive hands against her and gentle lips close to her ear.

“I would rob all the stars in the sky, and all the light from the sun, if it meant you never doubted how loved you are, or your place here,” Lord Amon whispered softly. “I would do anything to have you never doubt the light inside you. How special you are; how treasured.”

“I would do anything for your happiness. Anything at all.”

Her crying increased tenfold. Tears soaking into the fabric of his good clothes, leaving damp stains in the crisp fabric. Her fingers curved into his back; crinkling the somewhat stiff garment as she choked.

“I love you,” Essätha whimpered, shaking. “I don’t need anything else. I don’t want anything else. Just hold me tight, and promise you’ll always love me too, m’lord Amon.”

The pressure of his lips pressed to her temple, and she rasped desperately for air.

“I love you, now and always, my darling Essätha.”

His voice wobbled; thick with emotion, and he clutched to her with enough strength she swore her lungs would collapse.

And she had no doubts, that this is exactly where she belonged.

#royal writes #essamon ship #Essie rw #amon illiad #my heart grew 349062 times this day

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