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| Now that Aaric and Emilie have gotten closer as friends, Em has decided that he may be the perfect candidate to help her with a little situation. |

Location: Aaric’s Room | Company: Emile| Other: Surprised

It had been quite the day, and Aaric had finished what he could and tucked himself away at his desk. For the last few weeks, he had been graced by Emilie’s company, and it had been the most at home he had felt since had been a boy. Her gentle laugh, her infectious smile, and always her beautiful blue eyes looking up at him, twinkling. He was at a loss as to why after their night of secrets and dancing, they had grown closer, but not in the way he had thought.

She was, to him, the most beautiful woman he had ever met, with a kind soul, and such a warming touch. Every moment with her left his heart fluttering, and more often than not at a loss for words. Each night after they parted ways he would return to his desk, and another poem would flow from his heart, through his hand, and then upon the page.

He had kept the stack of poetry secret, not wishing for it to be stumbled upon by any visitors, nor his servants for fear that such information might make way to his ‘father’. The time spent with her of course could not be hidden, but in that he did not mind. He was a single man, not yet married, and it was appropriate for him to spend time with the opposite sex in an effort to win a wife. Not that, it had been his intention in the slightest, he just couldn't resist a moment spent in her company.

And moments they had spent these last few weeks. Some at her spot in the library, others down the halls, talking not as strangers, but as old friends. Something about her left him completely disarmed, and it did not bother him a bit. The sound of her voice brought joy to his day as nothing had since his arrival at Utopia.

Tonight, he had decided to try something new. Since their art class, he had thought it might be pleasant to try his hand at sketching. For the most part it had been halls, rooms, and the occasional attempt at a landscape. His thought was that if he were to keep trying, he was bound to get better eventually. But tonight, he had decided to try his hand at something that truly sparked his creativity. On his desk, in parchment and charcoal, he was attempting to sketch a silhouette of Emilie.

If it came out well, he intended to give it to her with a letter, thanking her for the kindness and love he had shown him. What he wished for was that it sparked a flame in her heart, and she saw him as more than just a boon companion, but perhaps a potential partner. Women had come into his life before, but to him they had been dull, motivated merely by his family and their position at the top of the food chain. He had no interest in a partner that wished to move up the ladder, or to make their place in the Shahiti court. His interest in either his family or court was only so deep as his own survival and to be left alone.

As he sat at his desk, he tried to draw the smooth line of her chin, and frame it with her long dark hair. He thought charcoal a good medium because of the stark contrast of her skin and hair, but at the same time, he felt it lacked the detail of the image of her, smiling and twirling in her red dress, fair arms reaching out at him, and pulling him close.

His mind drifted as he remembered their time at the dance, and he found himself lost in memory when he heard a knock at the door. Startled, he quickly took a stack of parchment and half covered the sketch on his desk. No servant would be foolish enough to miss the man doodling images of Emilie and not get an idea in their head.

Dressed in loose pajama slacks, and a long nightshirt, he was illuminated only by the lamp burning upon his desk, its shutters thrown open for him to get a better view of what he had been working on.

Not quite being ready to be intruded upon, he reached and withdrew a dark silk night robe and slipped it over, giving him a slim yet baggy outline.

Stepping to the door, he slowly opened it, peaking his head out.

“Lady Leclair!” he said, beside himself.

His heart began to race, and for a brief moment, he stood frozen. Instinct took over after the moment and he opened the door, coming to stand fully up instead of hunched as he had as he had stared absent kindly through the crack he had produced.

His room was barely lit behind him, and the walls were bare. The curtain had been drawn in effort to retain what heat could be maintained in the room. To the side, a fireplace glowed with little but embers as he had been too distracted to see to its maintenance.

“My apologies, Lady Leclair, I had not been expecting you, though I must say you had been on my mind…” he caught himself before he could say more and quickly started up again, hoping to get past the momentary awkwardness of his thoughts.

“How may I help you my dear?” he asked, the warm smile spreading across his face as he took her in.

Location: Aaric’s Room | Company: Emile| Other: Boy howdy.

Aaric watched as she played with the edge of his robe and he wanted to chuckle. Cozy, that was how he felt, something he believed she had finally introduced him to. The robe was not something he would have worn before they had met, but it was something he had been gifted at one point. His stiff heavy night coat was tucked away in the closet. To him, although stiff and warm, it was an old friend that kept the cold away, but the fire had done its job and left the room warm.

When she asked to come in, he of course let her in, stepping to the side and waving his hand, allowing her to walk past. There was little he thought that she could ask of him that he would not be willing to do. It was something in the way she looked at him, and in her voice that left it hard for him to say no.

He watched as she turned, walking towards his desk, and he was almost sure that his heart would give out. Taking a step forward, he started to reach out to her. She paused however, turning towards him, and relief washed over him. Of course what was hidden was intended for her, eventually, but he was embarrassed to let her see it until he thought it was just right.

She said his name and then tightened her cardigan. His first name no less. It felt good to hear it in her voice, and his body to relax just a tad more as he rolled the sound around in his head.

Looking down, she began to ask him something, she seemed concerned? No not concerned, but something was certainly on her mind. As she took another step towards him. Trusted him? He supposed he gave her no reason not to, nor did he wish to. Then she was barely a foot away from him, telling him that she needed his help with a problem.

Her eyes flicked between the door and his bed, and his head naturally cocked to the side, following where her eyes darted. There was a nervousness to her, that he had not seen in her before. Part of him picked up on that nervousness, and got nervous as well.

The light from the embers began to dim, and the lamp lost a bit of its glow as his body began to absorb the light around him without realizing he was doing it. An automated defense system that had long built itself into his being.

It was then that she took his hand, asking, Would you sleep with me?

In his head, his mind rushed. Of course she had simply meant in bed with her. Perhaps something had frightened her, and she wanted the safety of another, and she trusted him. It wasn't in his nature to take advantage of others, especially those he cared about.

His face softened as she said the first part, he was ready to admit that he would if that is truly what she wanted, and only if she was comfortable.

However, then she followed up, with what felt like a solid kick into his gut.

I want you to have sex with me.

Everything in his head disappeared. An emptiness took its place, a vacuum preventing anything from taking shape. His face showed surprise, but he could not feel it. Actually, he could feel dull tingling through his body, like that of falling asleep on your arm, and feeling like it was stabbed by pins and needles when you awoke after.

Instinct caused his eyes to follow her, a look of shock hinted as he followed after her as she sat on the edge of his bed, her fingers curling into his blanket, still cold from the hours of neglect it had experienced from his time away from it and at his desk.

An hour passed, then a century, followed slowly by a millennia. After that millennia, the emptiness of his brain was quickly replaced by something akin to a hurricane of words, roaring too loudly to make out, and yet familiar, as if he could almost place the language.

Say something, please, she begged.

SAY SOMETHING YOU IDIOT!

Finally his brain shook itself from shock as it realized, before his consciousness, that his mouth needed to make sounds, and it needed to make them quickly.

“Uh….”

Yes, perfect. So poetic. This will be repeated by bards for centuries to come. Try using real sentences you fool!

Aaric took two steps for her, taking a knee in front of her, and reaching for her hands to take within his own. A wild mix of emotions passed over his face, until a softness and concern took over.

“Oh Emilie, I hope you aren’t feeling pressured to do it.” his voice was warm, coddling even.

Oh yes, brilliant again. She asks you to bed her, wanting you to be her first, and there you go playing concerned friend. If she didn't want it, would she have come out here this evening to ask you, Aaric Price, Prince of Dumbass!

This woman had just expressed something deadly personal to him, and was asking for him to be the one to share it with her. He must admit, he wanted to. To feel her warm body against his, to hear his name moaned in his ear. It was not the first time he had been with a woman, though this would be the first time he shared his bed with someone he truly felt a connection with.

A hint of common sense finally wormed its way into his brain and he stood up and sat beside her, close, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“There are more than a few women your age I imagine have not experienced the warmth of a man. If this is something you truly want, how could I ever say no?” His voice was comforting, warm, and gentle. He reached down and took her hands again, his eyes trying to meet her own.

I love you Emilie. That's what he wanted to say. If he had his way, he would wake up with her in his arms. The consequences of the actions were a future far away that he had little to no concept of.