flamebrand | [ CLOSED TO NOBURDEN. ]

[ There's a big fat question mark hovering over Clive's head, which dissipates as soon as he sees Jill tending to the children. He breaks into a soft smile, then, enamored by how well she handles them, and the softness lingers around for when Jill takes his hand and leads her back on-course towards his (their) quarters.

Onwards they walk, past Maeve and a crowd of men and women around the bar who, upon seeing the pair, lift their glasses and take a swig of ale.

The big fat question mark returns. ] Was there meant to be a celebration today?

[Jill's steps pick up until she's tugging Clive along to his room. Their room. She can feel her cheeks burning pink.]

I suppose that depends on what you said before we left, and who you said it to.

[This time, Joshua is her prime suspect. But she'll let Clive confess that himself.]

I haven't said anything to anyone.

[ Believe him... 🥺 They scale the steps up two at a time (Oscar is very noticeably missing from his usual post outside the door), and Clive glances sideways towards Jill to gauge her reaction. ]

Though I did leave Torgal with Joshua before we left. The three of us wouldn't have fit on the skiff.

[ Not the only reason he left their dog son behind, but that should be obvious. ]

[Aha. Jill gives Clive an amused look once they're behind the closed door, offered some privacy by broken and deteriorating wood. She might see about some repairs after all, given the size of some of the gaps.]

Life is blissfully dull for most, here. [No one wishes for another attack, and the children are creative enough to entertain themselves, but the general population has a day of working, eating, sleeping. They don't get to leave unless they wish to face danger. They're free, but their world is small. For now.]

Even the suggestion of good news will get around like wildfire. Whether anything was said or simply assumed.

[Joshua is no gossip--she thinks--but a request to give Jill and Clive some space for whatever reason would make people talk.]

[ Finally, the dots connect. It's hard to know how the scrutiny makes him feel, but it doesn't skim anywhere near embarrassment-- what could make him more proud than being known as the man that Jill chose?

He makes his way towards his desk, where he starts stripping off his armor and the heaviest of his leathers. If the others are celebrating that he finally made things right with Jill, he doesn't anticipate being interrupted tonight the way they'd had the first time. ]

They're good people. [ Affectionately, and sincerely. ] I can think of no better to celebrate us.

[ More affectionately, as he glances at Jill. ]

And I would have them know that I'm yours.

[Jill, meanwhile, sits on the edge of the bed to take off her boots. There's already a little corner she's claimed for herself, a spot to put said boots, but when she catches his glance she can't help but return to his side.]

I think they have for some years, now. Known that you're mine, that is.

[She reaches up to help him with what he hasn't relieved himself of already, a soft smile on her lips.]

I don't expect much to change between us. Do you?

[Beyond the open affection, now.]

[ A soft, surprised laugh at they've known, which is audacious enough that Clive is delighted by it. Jill, his Jill, being so open about having claimed him－ for the millionth time, he feels like the luckiest man in the known history of mankind.

His hard outer layers come off, and gets laid to rest alongside his cape. He's just as delighted to see how Jill insinuates herself into his space, but tries to keep all of these little sparks of happiness to himself, lest she be exasperated by his simplicity.

(She might feel it, anyway: little glimmers of his aether, sparking along her skin.) ]

―No. I don't expect they will. We are as we've always been. [ Comrades-in-arms, partners. They're just adding another adjective into the mix: lovers. ] And I've always loved you as you are.

[Perhaps she's biased, perhaps she's giving herself too much credit, but she thinks he laughs more, now. Maybe that gives away his delight more than anything that can be felt between two Dominants. There's a light to his eyes and a softness to them that feels more, now. Surely she must be the same. She's woken up in his arms with sore cheeks from smiling too much and a full heart from being able to kiss and dote on him freely.]

Mm. I love you, too. I always have, and I can't see that ever changing.

[It still feels wonderful to say. She hopes it will always feel new, full of the meaning it carries. She looks at Clive once he's down to his shirt, hands coming to settle at his sides. While her hands are politely on or near him in public now, in private? It's difficult to keep away. She can let them wander a little.]

Will you join me in bed, Clive?

[Like he'd say no! She's just playing coy.]

[ Jill has asked him once upon a time if it was fine to enjoy herself as others do; he had told her that it is, and that it would be. He still believes so, and he thinks that this is a prelude to whatever their future might bring. A glimmer of hope, in an otherwise grim stretch of their lives.

So, of course his reply is: ] Gladly. [ Extending a hand, as if to escort Jill to the bed (which is, generously speaking, about five strides away). ] And I expect not to leave it until given permission to.

[ A flash of mischief. He's spent so long dismissing himself from her company; no more. ]

[Dangerous words, Clive. Jill laughs, and she pulls him along that short distance to the bed. Some part of her will always feel guilty for these pleasures she's been blessed with, knowing so many suffer, but they've at least earned this: one another.

Something in this world has to be theirs.

At the bed, she coaxes him to sit. She has a plan.]

Get onto your belly.

[Step one! Jill smiles and puts her hands behind her back. She'll be patient and give him a chance to obey.]

[ They were born into circumstances out of their control, with powers beyond their reckoning. Outside of their duties (of which they have many), he hopes that they can at least have each other.

Speaking of having each other, though: ]

If my lady wills it.

[ Okay, yes, he really does enjoy having Jill boss him around. She's stunning when she smiles at him and watches him expectantly, so there's truly no shame in obeying－ which he does, easily, with his stomach to bedsheets and his arms folded under his chin.

Blue eyes flick back over one shoulder, gauging Jill's reaction. ] Like this?

[What a sight he is. Even with his shirt on, she can see the muscles of his arms, shoulders, and back quite well. And his obedience is sweet--not a single question as to why, only a check to make sure he's done what she requested.]

Like that.

[And it's alarmingly reminiscent of mounting a chocobo, the way she puts her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she kneels onto the bed. And then puts one knee over him, so that she straddles the small of his back. Carefully, she lowers her weight onto him.]

Not too heavy?

[This is, after all, the best seat to have if she plans on pampering him. Best of all? He just has to take it.]

Oh.

[ He says it, instead of thinking it. A soft whisper of a breath, his surprise manifesting as a slight tensing of shoulders before he relaxes, relenting to this vulnerable position with unthinking, absolute trust. Jill could be holding a knife to his neck, and he'd still be utterly convinced that she would never harm him (in any way that he wouldn't enjoy).

He warms under her weight. Embarrassing, how the feeling of her thighs and ass along his lower back is all it takes for him to want her. ]

Light as a feather. [ He finally manages, clearing his throat. ] Am I to assume that my hands should be kept to myself?

[Jill is doing her very best to keep her thoughts (mostly) pure as she sits on Clive. It's an uphill battle. But as much as she'd like to roll him over and sit on him properly, she does want to spoil him in what small ways she can.]

I don't know what you think you can reach. [She says with a laugh. Her knee? Her calves, resting on the mattress? Jill places her hands beneath his shoulder blades, thumbs pressing into the muscle she finds there.] I want you to relax. You needn't do anything but enjoy, Clive.

[They both have a difficult time with that, she knows. Not her problem right now, though. There's plenty of back and shoulder and neck to massage.]

[ Where there's a will, there's a way... but she's right, the only way he'd be able to touch her is if he rolls under her knees and tugs her down onto his chest like an ill-behaved dog. He could, easily, but he'll only manhandle her if she wishes it.

So. Relaxing. A little difficult, given the intimacy of their position. She pushes her thumbs into the tired muscles of his back, tense from hefting the weight of a broadsword so often, and can't help groaning softly into his pillows. ]

Ah, [ is involuntary. ] Right there, Jill.

Oh.

[She didn't anticipate him groaning. She's quickly learned his moans and encouragements make her melt. Like fire and ice indeed. This might be trouble, but her eagerness to take care of him may be stronger than her horniness. Maybe.

What else can she do but continue? And distract herself with thoughts of her not-so-dire list of tasks. Torgal needs a grooming. Always a monumental task, that...]

Is anywhere sore?

[Now she sounds like Tarja.]

If I said "everywhere", [ he huffs, ] would you oblige me?

[ It's a tease. A bit of harmless (?) flirting, meant to convey that he would like to have her touch him anywhere she pleases, and that it feels good when she does. His back arches under her spread legs, the strong line of his spine bending to Jill's every whim; Founder, it feels so good to think of nothing but giving himself to her scrutiny.

Another inwards press of thumbs along the line of his back has him hiss-sigh again. ]

Lower, [ he rasps. ] Along my hips.

[ Where his travel packs usually sit, alongside his dagger and any other items he picks up during his travels. ]

[Ha. Her voice is wry.]

I might. Just to be sure you're in good health, of course.

[He's a big man with a lot of muscles that could get sore. She'd believe it. She also believes, were she beneath him right now, she would die from lust. He feels his muscles tense and relax and she feels like the most powerful woman in the world.

His request has her scooting herself down his body, her ass finding a new home on the backs of his thighs. And his ass is right there before her, and she can't help but slide her hands over it through his pants. Those hands make their way to his hips, and then inwards, to massage alongside either side of his spine.]

Here?

[ She is the most powerful woman in the world. Shiva, the most delicate of the Eikons, with the most destructive one wrapped around her finger. A rare defiance of the laws of nature: ice, taming fire.

He arches again, when she fondles his ass, but takes care not to squirm; he's also trying not to get hard, with his cock wedged between himself and the mattress. Behave, Rosfield. ]

There, [ he affirms. ] ―Lower is fine, as well.

[ If she wants to cop a few more feels. He's a red-blooded male, and he would be lying if he also didn't stand behind Jill a few times and think about the outline of her under her skirts. ]

Oh? Is it?

[Thank you, Clive. Jill's always thought Clive cut a fine form, and the years here in the Hideaway have left him lean and strong. With a nice ass. An ass she grabs with both hands, but even there she massages, approaching the base of his tailbone.]

We'll have to do this regularly, I think. You poor muscles could do with some relief.

[Can't let him get so tense he gets a cramp while on a mission. Jill is a very serious and selfless woman, volunteering for this task.]

[ So very magnanimous. He's not sure how effective having his ass groped is in terms of relaxing, but if Jill gets something out of it........

He stays still under her ministrations, only shifting when she hits a knot that's in particular need of attention: encouraging her, and melting under her touch. ]

You spoil me. [ He's spent his entire life pushing his body to its limits; even as a child, he'd trained until his hands bled all over the hilt of his training swords. He hadn't asked for massages then, and he doubts he would have asked for them now, if Jill hadn't insisted. ] I'll have to return the favor, though I doubt my hands are as deft as yours.

[ Hands for hurting, not healing. He's seen Jill learning physicking from Tarja, but has never sat down with their resident healer to do the same. ]

[He will never escape the Torgal allegations with the way he soaks up being pet. Jill sees no problem with this, of course. He's sweet. She already plans to do this regularly, because it's truly no trouble.]

You've proven otherwise.

[Yeah, no. Jill knows what those hands of his can do. But that's besides the point: she doesn't want him to begin thinking about what he can do for her. Not now.]

Just enjoy this, Clive. I am. Very much, I'll add.

[She's rubbing and touching the most handsome man she's ever seen. It's almost as good as having his hands and mouth on her. Almost.]

You do so much for everyone, and so often at the cost of your body. Even Ifrit gets tired.

[ It takes a certain set of hands to invoke the Torgal-esque reactions, and said set belong to Jill. By the time she tells him that Ifrit is also sure to experience some sort of fatigue, Clive is a human-shaped puddle under Jill's thighs.

He tries for a laugh, though, at the implication. ]

I wonder. Ifrit is always restless.

[ A consequence of being denied existence for centuries, perhaps. Or maybe it just didn't like that Clive ignored it for thirteen years. A rebellious thing, through and through. Clive closes his eyes, and feels the flame inside him flare in response; a corroboration or a demand to arms, he's not sure. His eikon is very fickle.

After he does that, he glances over his shoulder again. ] Jill. [ Asking, implicitly, if he could have a kiss. This position is nice, but he misses seeing her face. ]

[She quite likes this liquid version of Clive. She also quite likes that he wants a kiss--just the tone of his voice, that look, tells her. It feels good to be wanted. It feels good to be his lady. Loved by this man that has so much good and gentleness in his heart.

Jill carefully pushes herself up the bed so she can lay on her side next to Clive, fitting on the sliver of bed there. She take a moment to lovingly run her fingers through his hair before leaning in for a kiss, smiling all the while.

This must be what paradise feels like.]

Is that what you wanted?

[The easiest thing to give.]

[ Founder, he loves her. Just the shift of her balance from above to beside him, the scent of her and her warmth near him are enough to make his heart flutter. He'd always known joy around Jill, but the depth of it now that he's given leave to express it takes him off-guard, every time; her mouth against his feels both novel and inevitable, no matter how many times they trade kisses.

He's still molten on the mattress, but manages to collect enough of himself to roll sideways and encircle Jill's waist with his arms. ]

Yes. [ As he nuzzles against her jaw. ] And now I've got you where I want you.

[ Playfully. Try to wriggle out now!!! She can't. ]

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