GrenadierJorinde

Chapter 2: Dinner and a dance For the first time in a long time, Aymeric felt a little nervous as he waited inside the dining room. He had sat down, stood by the window, paced back and forth, and finally, settled on standing in front of the fireplace, looking over at the tapestry over the mantle. He held his hands behind his back, so he didn't fidget and tried not to worry as the minutes ticked by. Keshi was not late, nor had she ever kept him waiting, but of course, tonight was different. Almost as if summoned by his thoughts, the doors to the dining room opened and Keshi was announced formally. He turned and faltered for a moment, stunned by just how pretty she looked. She'd worn the outfit before, but he could fully appreciate it tonight. Especially since he knew she was dressing for him. Her purple dress matched her hair and the fur on her ears and tail perfectly, and the golden embellishments and jewelry dazzled in the light. It also helped that the outfit bared her skin in the

Chapter 1: Peace. One small, rare moment in Ishgard where he had time for himself. Aymeric shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. His day had been full of meetings upon meetings, scheduled months before so there was no way he could get out. He knew he had responsibility over the land and the people, but he hadn’t realised just how much there was to do in one day. He was happy, of course, just…frustrated. He saw so many faces in one day, some began to blend together. And yet, there was one person whom he wanted to see most of all, but time and good fortune it seemed, had not been on his side. ‘Keshi.’ The great and powerful warrior of light. She had come into his life like a blizzard from the icy north. He’d been fascinated from the moment he laid eyes on her. He’d managed to maintain his composure, but she was unlike any other female he had ever seen. And whilst her striking semblance and purple hair were indeed unique; it was her very presence that stuck with him. Her confidence.

Chapter 1: Concerning a Hobbit The din in the Green Dragon was, as usual, loud, cheery, and full of life and laughter. One table was celebrating a win for Farmer Maggot’s ‘Early Vegetable prize’ potatoes, and they had a particularly rowdy group of males, singing and dancing on the table. Ale was spilled out of tankards and all Agatha Goodbody could do was shake her head and sigh. “Guess I’ll be cleaning that up later,” she wiped another plate dry and placed it on top of the almost too-high pile. “Not a chance. You know farmer Maggot always makes sure the lads clean up their mess before they leave,” Rosie told her in her no-nonsense tone, contradicting her sweet and kind smile, “and if they pout about it, don’t worry, I’ll get my Sam to sort them out.” “He does have a way with his words now…whatever happened to him on that journey has done him the world of good,” she blew one of her long brown curls out of her face and vowed to tie it back…next time, “maybe all the young males should go