gentle massages for their shoulders

Helionne was distracted, bent forward over the desk in the study penning letters for delivery sometime later in the week. Not the invitations she had hoped to eventually send to friends for invitation to some of the formal functions she knew she would eventually be responsible for hosting. 

No, these were notices for some of the men and women under her command. Plan changes and check-ins in preparation for her prolonged absence for her and Ivaurault’s honeymoon. Not that they would be able to be gone nearly as long as they had originally planned. A moon or two. Now interrupted to a number of weeks spaced out to coincide with the changes of the moon.

Tension had woven itself through her shoulders, thinking about what all of this was going to mean and how it would affect the plans they had and how they would be executed. It was in these thoughts she was still dwelling when hands set themselves to her shoulders, fingers kneading delicately into the hard knots of muscle that had worked themselves into place there.

There was only one pair of hands that would touch her like this, and her shoulders slowly slumped downwards under the ministrations of Ivaurault’s skilled fingers even as she felt his lips brush the back of a tip of one of her ears. A flush of heat and warmth radiated out from where his hands rested and his lips had pressed both, and she glanced up at him while he leaned forward to read the letters she’d been penning. 

“Are you still looking forward to our trip, Lionne?” He asked quietly, his hands sweeping from the wider set of her shoulders to where they joined her neck while thumbs brushed the knot where her neck and spine joined. She was so tense, and he’d like to see it relieved. 

“Of course,” she replied immediately. “I just need to get these penned so they know about our adjusted travel plans. I have no desire to get interrupted mid trip when we return for a sennight between destinations.” Her eyes lifted to find his and she was pleased to see a smile on his face as he read and hands worked.

And she knew herself well enough to know that she might get interrupted. She’d been married to her work far longer than her spouse, after all. The movement of Ivy’s hands had slowed as they drifted down further, arms curling around her own to capture her in a hug as his the kiss to her ear was given its mirror on her freckle-dusted cheek. 

“They will have to wait.” He replied, leaning down to murmur against her ear. “I refuse to give up a single bell more of your time than I have to, even on our return.” A pleased flush colored her skin and his laugh right beside her ear was warming.

“Selfish.” She accused him with a smile.

“Only with you.” He countered as he leaned back up, hands sliding to resume their work at her shoulders. “Finish penning your letters and we can go take lunch.”

---

With @roses-and-grimoires' Ivaurault de Courcelle.