[ It would be an unbelievably embarrassing end to their story if Clive slipped and fell and cracked his head open, so he maintains balance until they reach their spacious bath again, gently lowering the both of them back into the scented, warm water.
He might be a puddle by the end of the day. Dalimil is sweltering, and the bath is comfortable, and Jill's company is already making him feel soft and boneless. She'll need to sweep him up and put him into a jar. ]
You'd love me even if I were a petty, jealous man?
[Is this his version of asking if she'd still love him if he were a worm? Jill laughs, leaning in to bump their noses together.]
Yes. I couldn't imagine it, but yes. I can't imagine what would make you jealous. All of me belongs to you, and happily so. Yours is the only attention I could ever crave.
[Jill, meanwhile, will have to school her RBF whenever another woman talks to Clive. It's fine. It's totally fine.]
[ Isabelle is lucky Jill wasn't around when she was touching up on Jill's man.......... that said, Clive's dick won't so much as stir around women who aren't Jill, so there's that.
A low hum, affectionate, and Clive subtly, subtly sifts some water over Jill's slightly-dirtied chest. ]
[So subtle! Jill smiles and tips her head to the side so that he can have easier access to her chest and neck. She's sticky. Not that it bothers her at all. All the more reason for them to lounge in the bath.]
[ He sloughs the stickiness off of her by pooling water in his palm and cascading it over her collarbone and down her chest. Once he's sure that everything is relatively clean, he dips his head to kiss where he'd previously made a mess, not quite able to quell the urge to nip and leave a lovebite there. ]
My biggest competition. [ Honestly, he wouldn't even be mad if Jill chose their dog over him. Torgal is, in fact, the Best Boy. ] Our bard's been composing sonnets about you, but I don't think I need to worry about him.
[She laughs softly when she feels teeth, a wet hand lifting to comb through his hair. It’s impossible to not press a kiss to his head, so she does, warm and fond.]
You know you're my favorite. The love of my life, and whatever comes after.
[ The only person who will ever hold his heart, utterly and completely. She means everything to him, and her attention and care help him feel real. Human.
That said: ] ―Though I do want to hear what the bard's been writing.
[ They're very nice, actually. And mostly unspecific enough that Clive doesn't feel self-conscious about the bard narrating current events through song.
He laughs, anyway. ] "On frost-white wings doth Our Lady fly, dovelike in her grace..."
[ Making Shit Up. Channeling his inner theater boy. ]
[ A reciprocal oh, as Clive watches Jill flush. That, in turn, is the cutest thing Clive's seen, and he smiles against Jill's mouth as he tries to continue, muffled: ]
"Though bring she does her winter chill, the summer of her smile thaws, the lonely autumn of my heart, and spring she blooms forevermore."
[ Again, maybe he's written a love poem or two (or many) in his journal. He's been pining for years. ]
[ He tips to meet her, their mouths flush and their lips molten with all the kisses they've already traded. Clive thinks he could spend hours like this, tangled and warm and as close as they can be, lost to touch and affection.
So he fully means what he says when they finally part for air. ]
I'll never stop wanting to win your heart.
[ He loves her, and she loves him. That won't stop him from wanting to give her more, always. ]
[She understands the desire, of course. She loves him so much she can't stop from wanting to dote on him, smother him with affection, and make him feel it. He should always feel like the most loved man in the world.]
[ A light groan. ] I've had my fill of fighting myself. [ He can speak fondly about it now, five years displaced from the fact. An ache that he keeps close to his chest.
It's a joke that he moves quickly on from. ] ―Do you want more time in this room? Or do you want to explore Dalimil for a bit?
Even for you, I wouldn't walk the streets of Dalimil naked.
[ She's the love of his life, but even he has to say no to her sometimes. (Even if he doesn't like it!!!) A palm settles on Jill's cheek, as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Her updo is moments away from coming undone. ]
[ "Let out" makes him laugh, as does "handsome". Is he? When most people comment on his looks, it's usually with a slight tinge of derision－ as if a man with a sword should look a certain other way, or if they think Clive has an ego about his appearances. Even Cid had used the word pretty to describe him, and it'd felt more like a dig than anything else.
Clive touches his fingertips to his own face, along the scar where the brand used to be. ]
Father wore my features better, I think. [ Regal, stately. ] He was far tidier than I am, at any rate.
[ Maybe if he put product in his hair once in a while, it might behave. ]
[Jill's fingers lightly brush his aside so she can trace that scar herself. She still remembers when he asked Tarja to remove it. The way Jill paced, the screams. The wound that seemed so large on his face, and yet she still thought he was the most handsome man in Valisthea. That's the spot she presses a kiss to next, dropping her hand to his neck, warm and soft.]
...As long as you're not ashamed to walk by my side.
[ Tipping his face to give Jill easier access to the scar, and leaning into her kiss. He has a feeling that she doesn't quite like talking about Elwin, and that's fine: the truth remains that his father did wrench Jill from her homeland to broker peace, and she's allowed her opinions of him. ]
Now, you still haven't decided－ do you want to keep me for yourself, or are you feeling generous?
Never. There hasn't been a day I've been ashamed to be beside you, Clive.
[Even when Branded, when they would pretend to be a lady and her servant to go unnoticed on the road and when in towns and staying at inns on stormy nights. She's always been proud to be with him. She knows all too well what it feels like to be without him.
Elwin is a more complicated topic. She was treated well by him, and he was kind to her, but she was still a ward. A bargaining chip, taken from her home and family and thrust into a new world and culture. But Clive's fond regard for his father keeps her quiet--but these days she often wonders how the man could have let his wife treat his firstborn son so poorly. It's incomprehensible.
She's glad when Clive asks her opinion on easier matters.]
I share you often enough, I think. I'd like to keep you to myself for a little while longer, if that's all right.
[ There'd been a glimmer of fear, maybe when they'd first reunited, that she would think poorly of him. Not because of the brand on his cheek― she has never been, and never will, be the type to judge anyone by what they wear on their face― but for the sins he'd committed, and the blood on his hands. He would have understood if Jill hadn't wanted anything to do with him after he'd nearly felled her at the Nysa Defile, but it would have broken him more than a little.
She's too good to him. It softens him to think of it, even if a part of him remains apologetic despite the years separating them from that moment. ]
Of course it is.
[ So, obviously there's only one answer to the question of her keeping him to herself. He hugs Jill closer to his chest, cradling her with all the protectiveness he can muster. ]
[He can never hug her tight enough. She sighs, turning into him, and wrapping her arms around his shoulders to simply hug him in return. It's a simple thing. Just this contact, this closeness, with nothing between them. But it means everything to her.]
And you are everything I could ever need. I hope you know it, Clive. You fill my heart to the brim.
[Be it with his smile, his touch, or silly poetry. She adores him.]
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[She would kiss him again, but she suspects his legs might be a little wobbly. Let's not mix that with wet floors and carrying her, too.]
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He might be a puddle by the end of the day. Dalimil is sweltering, and the bath is comfortable, and Jill's company is already making him feel soft and boneless. She'll need to sweep him up and put him into a jar. ]
You'd love me even if I were a petty, jealous man?
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Yes. I couldn't imagine it, but yes. I can't imagine what would make you jealous. All of me belongs to you, and happily so. Yours is the only attention I could ever crave.
[Jill, meanwhile, will have to school her RBF whenever another woman talks to Clive. It's fine. It's totally fine.]
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A low hum, affectionate, and Clive subtly, subtly sifts some water over Jill's slightly-dirtied chest. ]
Don't let Torgal hear that.
[ Their dog son!!!! ]
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Oh, Torgal is a given. I shouldn't need to say.
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My biggest competition. [ Honestly, he wouldn't even be mad if Jill chose their dog over him. Torgal is, in fact, the Best Boy. ] Our bard's been composing sonnets about you, but I don't think I need to worry about him.
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[She laughs softly when she feels teeth, a wet hand lifting to comb through his hair. It’s impossible to not press a kiss to his head, so she does, warm and fond.]
You know you're my favorite. The love of my life, and whatever comes after.
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[ The only person who will ever hold his heart, utterly and completely. She means everything to him, and her attention and care help him feel real. Human.
That said: ] ―Though I do want to hear what the bard's been writing.
[ Waxing poetic about Jill? Sign him up. ]
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Are you actually serious about the beard writing about me? I thought you were joking. That's mortifying, actually...
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[ They're very nice, actually. And mostly unspecific enough that Clive doesn't feel self-conscious about the bard narrating current events through song.
He laughs, anyway. ] "On frost-white wings doth Our Lady fly, dovelike in her grace..."
[ Making Shit Up. Channeling his inner theater boy. ]
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She laughs before shutting him up with a kiss. It's so precious she has to stop him. Her heart can't take it.]
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"Though bring she does her winter chill, the summer of her smile thaws,
the lonely autumn of my heart, and spring she blooms forevermore."
[ Again, maybe he's written a love poem or two (or many) in his journal. He's been pining for years. ]
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[A playful murmur against his lips. How special to have a man able to wield a sword and eikons and pretty words. She's charmed.]
My sweetheart.
[She kisses him again, full of love.]
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So he fully means what he says when they finally part for air. ]
I'll never stop wanting to win your heart.
[ He loves her, and she loves him. That won't stop him from wanting to give her more, always. ]
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[She understands the desire, of course. She loves him so much she can't stop from wanting to dote on him, smother him with affection, and make him feel it. He should always feel like the most loved man in the world.]
You're very good to me, Clive.
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It's a joke that he moves quickly on from. ] ―Do you want more time in this room? Or do you want to explore Dalimil for a bit?
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A difficult choice. If we leave, we would have to dress...
[Like she doesn't get to look upon him regularly.]
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[ She's the love of his life, but even he has to say no to her sometimes. (Even if he doesn't like it!!!) A palm settles on Jill's cheek, as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Her updo is moments away from coming undone. ]
L'ubor wouldn't let me hear the end of it.
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[She jokes! ... mostly. Jill takes a moment to admire his face, the blue of his eyes, the line of his jaw.]
You're too handsome, I fear.
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Clive touches his fingertips to his own face, along the scar where the brand used to be. ]
Father wore my features better, I think. [ Regal, stately. ] He was far tidier than I am, at any rate.
[ Maybe if he put product in his hair once in a while, it might behave. ]
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No. You're perfect.
[Mop of hair and all.]
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[ Tipping his face to give Jill easier access to the scar, and leaning into her kiss. He has a feeling that she doesn't quite like talking about Elwin, and that's fine: the truth remains that his father did wrench Jill from her homeland to broker peace, and she's allowed her opinions of him. ]
Now, you still haven't decided－ do you want to keep me for yourself, or are you feeling generous?
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[Even when Branded, when they would pretend to be a lady and her servant to go unnoticed on the road and when in towns and staying at inns on stormy nights. She's always been proud to be with him. She knows all too well what it feels like to be without him.
Elwin is a more complicated topic. She was treated well by him, and he was kind to her, but she was still a ward. A bargaining chip, taken from her home and family and thrust into a new world and culture. But Clive's fond regard for his father keeps her quiet--but these days she often wonders how the man could have let his wife treat his firstborn son so poorly. It's incomprehensible.
She's glad when Clive asks her opinion on easier matters.]
I share you often enough, I think. I'd like to keep you to myself for a little while longer, if that's all right.
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She's too good to him. It softens him to think of it, even if a part of him remains apologetic despite the years separating them from that moment. ]
Of course it is.
[ So, obviously there's only one answer to the question of her keeping him to herself. He hugs Jill closer to his chest, cradling her with all the protectiveness he can muster. ]
I'm yours to have, in every way that you need.
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And you are everything I could ever need. I hope you know it, Clive. You fill my heart to the brim.
[Be it with his smile, his touch, or silly poetry. She adores him.]
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