Casa da Tia, Peso da Régua, to Estrada Nacional 222, Douro Valley, Portugal, Friday

[deathsmajesty]

It would hardly be a birthday trip for Ignis if they hadn't gone somewhere that specialized in wine, and while Liliana doubted that they would take to Portugal in quite the same way they had to Argentina, it certainly wasn't because the Douro River Valley was in any way lacking. (Of course it wasn't, she had researched the place thoroughly before providing Ignis with what she refused to call a presentation, even if the term wouldn't exactly be inaccurate.) Rather than a resort, they were staying in Casa da Tia, a gorgeous apartment complete with a full kitchen and a fridge that Liliana had paid to have stocked with groceries from local shops and markets, including a truly ridiculous amount of Portuguese coffee. Which was immediately joined by Argentine coffee and several flats of Ebony upon their arrival, of course, but Portugal had a rich coffee culture and they could no more ignore that than they could the vineyards and wines that had histories dated back all the way to the Roman occupation.

The past two days had been a whirlwind of shops, cafes, bistros, and wine bars, leaving Liliana laughingly declaring that today they would be doing nothing more than lazing about in their rental, perhaps (perhaps!) bestirring themselves for another riverboat wine tour around dinnertime if they felt truly ambitious.

Whether or not Ignis believed her when they'd gone to bed was unimportant, considering he was getting his first birthday surprise bright and (ugh) early the morning of his birthday, when Liliana stepped outside onto the balcony to join him for his first coffee of the day, cradling a mug in her own hands, wearing only her dressing gown with the Chain Veil in her pocket, too early even for her headdress. In front of them, the sky lightened in a truly glorious sunrise, which easily could have taken place several hours hence, but knowing what she did, she found she could not truly blame him for waking up early and enjoying it.

"Bom dia, meu porto seguro," she said, crossing to him to brush her lips lightly over his. "Feliz aniversário pra você.

[For the birthday boy, por favor. A bit of birthday nsfw in there, too.]

Comments

[chef_chocobro]

If Ignis did, in fact, take Liliana at her word about today being a day of lazing about (which already was on shaky ground; today was his birthday proper, and surely she would know how little that sort of thing fit into any of his perceptions of ideal, and it would be much better suited or tomorrow's agenda), any support for that claim was utterly abolished the moment she joined him on the balcony before he'd finished his first cup. Granted, he had been taking his time not only in luxuriating in its excellence, but also in just being particularly reflective that morning, on everything that brought him here to this exact spot in this exact moment, and how, in all of his calculations and strategy, speculation and forethought, even with his brief flirtations with premonition and prophesy, he could have never predicted anything like this.

"Mmm," he hummed, pulled slowly, but eagerly from his wandering mind into that kiss, marveling at how, for as cool and chill as Liliana's touch was, it still somehow managed to warm him even more than his coffee. "Injusto. No he tenido tiempo de repasar mi portugués."

He did, however, appreciate that the common roots did mean that all the Spanish he'd been refining could still be utilized to good effect for comprehension. But that was neither here nor there just now, as he was setting down his mug so that he could better slip an arm around her for a kiss well beyond that initial brush.

"But thank you," he then said, smile easy as his forehead leaned against hers, "calor do meu coração." The smile then grew. "Is my gift you actually being up at a reasonable hour?"

[deathsmajesty]

"Don't be ridiculous," Liliana scoffed, though her voice was warm with humor rather than derision, "there's nothing reasonable about this hour. However, we have a lot of lazing about and doing nothing scheduled for today, and I'm awake early to make sure we get it all in."

She chuckled softly, kissing him again, and pushed him down into one of the viewing chairs, and then making herself quite comfortable in his lap, legs twined around his, cuddled up against his chest as she sipped her own coffee, light and sweet and tasting of cinnamon. She was still tired, as her forays into Birthday Mischief^TM had started with sneaking out of their bed last night after she was certain he'd fallen asleep, but a cup or two would more than compensate for the several hours gap in slumber.

"Likely I'm here to lure you back into bed until a much more civilized hour...or perhaps remind you of the role chairs played in our early courtship," she added with another indulgent laugh.

[chef_chocobro]

A cup or two and. one pilfered Ebony, no doubt, but the last would sufficiently seal the deal in caffeinated rejuvenation. But that was far from his thoughts at that moment, which were now as much on scent as they were on the ease in which they settled in comfortably with each other, breathing in and just appreciating the air of the valley, the scent of her hair, even the aromas of her sweetened coffee as she took her sips. Magnificent, all of it, and, as the fingers brushing against her arm, her thighs, the tendrils of her hair confirmed, tangible and real. And the sounds, as well, the flow of the river and the town below slowly waking up and that laugh, turning his own contented sigh that way with a faint chuckle.

"A detail," he noted, "that has also remained consistent throughout its flourishing as well."

He kissed the top of her head, not wanting even his strong desire for tasting that sweetened coffee on her lips to change even a bit of their current position in that moment.

"But surely you understand a fatal flaw in this approach, my darling," he added, and she might not currently be able to see his grin, but she could no doubt here it in the richness of his drawl. "Now that you're up, you simply must know that I'll be wanting to make you breakfast."

[deathsmajesty]

Hear it, delight in it, be smugly pleased by it... he'd said something nonsensical about not making it easy for her to keep her vow to make him smile and laugh more this year than he had the year prior and yet, here she was, accomplishing that feat without breaking a sweat.

"Mmm, but isn't it far more satisfying to make me breakfast once you've guaranteed I'm hungry enough to enjoy it?" she purred, tilting her head just enough to be able to press soft, lingering kisses along his throat. "Is that what you were brooding about so handsomely when I joined you? Breakfast?"

[chef_chocobro]

"I was hardly brooding," Ignis insisted, because he knew brooding, and he knew it very well. Brooding was dark and heavy and felt like he was drowning in the sea of his own thoughts, but this contemplation was light and buoyant and felt like surfacing for air, like the first break of dawn on your face after a long and arduous night.

His head tilted backslightly, while his fingers drifted along her back, enjoying not only the softness of the fabric of her dressing gown, but also its thickness...or lack thereof.

"And we hardly need to retreat back to bed," he added, "to work up a good appetite."

[deathsmajesty]

"If you're considering this chair, the floor, the walls, or even the railing of this balcony, you have my complete attention," she teased, taking advantage of the newly revealed skin of his throat to pepper with yet more kisses, slowly working her way up to his ear. "But one word about running or training or the merits of exercise and I'm returning to bed and not arising again until noon."

She laughed again, soft and low and full of promise, nuzzling the side of his neck. "Though I remain curious about what it was that engaged your thoughts so deeply, in a not brooding fashion..." she murmured, though he could tell the majority of her attention was on what she was doing with her mouth and not the words coming out of it.

The nip that followed suggested that she could be convinced to leave conversation behind for awhile. Long enough to appreciate chairs, floors, walls, and railings, no doubt.

[chef_chocobro]

"Somehow," Ignis said, with an appreciative rumble that proved that that nip did not lose even an ounce of effectiveness for its predictability, "I feel as though that curiosity is quickly waning in its immediacy..."

And he, himself, did not possess any particular desire to divulge those thoughts, something that he felt Liliana undoubtedly knew. He would, of course, if she were to ask again, which she likely also knew, but as he turned his head to intercept wherever it was her lips might land next with his own (gently, carefully, slipping the mug out of her hands as well, to safely set aside), it was very clear that the conversation he intended to have first led them in a very different direction. The direction of chairs and floors and walls and railings, table and counter tops, too, but very clearly a conversation that needed no words at all, only the language of their bodies and the constant thrusting rhythm of their deliriously endless dance together.

Well.

Perhaps that conversation wasn't actually all that far removed from the other, after all.

[deathsmajesty]

"You know I remain ever-curious, my darling," Liliana said, once that kiss was done, though she didn't follow it up with a further question. Instead, she was shifting position, turning around to straddle him, chilly hands cupping his face to bring it in for another kiss like he'd been thinking about earlier. Her mouth tasted like rich coffee, like cinnamon and sugar, like secrets and playfulness and magic; more than anything, it tasted like her. The balcony faced east towards the river, nothing and no one to see them but the sun and the water and a few sweetly-singing birds as Liliana let her dressing gown slide down and puddle at her waist, revealing creamy white skin sometimes marred by lines of an unreadable script.

"Tch, clothing," she said against his mouth as her hands busied themselves with his shirt. Yes, yes, she understood you felt more comfortable fully-dressed, Ignis (a terrible habit), but you had to admit her method of 'dressing' made things so much more...easily accessible.

[chef_chocobro]

"Tch, clothing," Ignis echoed around a smirk, "indeed."

And should Liliana be privy to all of his deep and decidedly unbrooding thoughts right now, she would know that he actually did consider leaving his hands where they were, on her cool and newly revealed skin, warmed as much by his touch as by the sun, merely because that was where he wanted them to be, and it was his birthday, after all, and what better day to just indulge in what he wanted to? But he also wanted her hands on his skin, so he would gladly delay the immediate urge to facilitate the other in helping, fastidiously attending to a few buttons before shifting to better reach the buckle of his belt.

"Why don't we also," he murmured with lips seeking to be as industrious as his hands in the area they had abandoned, "dispense of wrapping on gifts or the satisfaction of a reveal? The anticipation of unwrapping a treat, of unraveling a particularly difficult and stubborn knot?"

[deathsmajesty]

"Finally, you understand," Liliana said with a husky chuckle--one that turned into a sharp gasp as his lips proved to be quite industrious, indeed. "I'm simply saying, it's particularly egregious in the mornings. Perhaps we could consider it extra incentive for me to wake up early...?"

His shirt fully unbuttoned now, she spread it open, gliding her hands up the lithe muscles of his chest and then leaned in to press her own bared chest against his, lips once again seeking his throat, his cheeks, his jaw, teasingly pressing kisses everywhere but against his mouth. Her nails dragged downwards, leaving pale lines down his abdomen, then shooed his hands away to finish all of the unbuttoning and unfastening there, too.

"Pick up your mug," she whispered in his ear as she prepared to slide between his legs to her knees on the floor. "It's your birthday, meu amado. Indulge a bit. Let me spoil you."

[chef_chocobro]

It was his birthday, a day he'd only just recently even bothered paying much attention to, and he always did pride himself in his dedication to executing instructions with deftly competency. And so the grunt of appreciation at those whispered requests was just as much for their promised method of indulgence as it was for that adroit use of Liliana's own skill to meet him with a checkmate that he could hardly agree with.

And so he didn't. He just lifted a hand to brush her cheek with his before she slipped away. That, and the soft smile, standing in for his substitution for a loving gaze, and the words if you insist danced on his lips, but he did not speak them, because she certainly didn't need to.

When his hand left her cheek, it reached for that mug.

"By all means," he said, instead, and when he sighed into his mug, it was not a sigh of resignation or frustration as most of his sighs tended to be, but of a much rarer nature, one of pure, if absolutely and utterly mystified, contentment.

[deathsmajesty]

She slipped down to her knees, and guided his free hand into her hair. Then, as he raised his mug to his lips for another long, slow swallow of his coffee, Liliana leaned forward for a long, slow swallow of her own, a greedy noise leaving her throat before it was filled by something else.

Most people would laugh at the idea of Liliana Vess being a patient woman and for damn good reason. But those people had never seen her in her workroom, or her greenhouse in Glen Elendra, or even as a young girl reading through secret books in her family's library, painstakingly teaching herself necromancy. When Liliana was invested, she transcended mere patience and went straight to thorough. And, oh, was she invested now. She teased, she lingered, she went exquisitely slow, through when his breathing turned harsh and his grip in her hair tightened, all the way until his patience finally waned--

It was not the chair or the floor or the railing; 'and' was the correct conjunction there, and by the time Ignis (fully dressed and combed and tidied once more) brought Liliana (languid, unclothed, and mussed) breakfast, there was no question of whether or not either of them were ravenous enough to appreciate it properly.

But even if he'd been inclined to assume that her early rising had simply been to seduce him in the sunrise (especially since the next part of Birthday Mischief^TM had fortuitously arrived whilst they were otherwise occupied), it became quite clear that she was Up To Something, when, instead of going back to take a post-breakfast siesta, she swanned out of their bedroom fully dressed and pressed a heavy wicker basket into his hands.

"Come along, my darling," she declared, voice pure sunshine. "We certainly don't want the day getting away from us and it's nearly eleven now."

[chef_chocobro]

Ignis generally always just assumed Liliana was Up to Something; not only did it leave him prepared and ready for nearly anything, but he found that he was more often than not completely correct in that suspicion. But the rather productive morning had lured him into a false sense of (thoroughly satisfied) security, so the arrival of that basket in his hands and that brightness in her voice did, indeed, catch him off guard.

Luckily, his surprise managed to stick to just a lift of his brow. "Nearly eleven? 'Iana. Is there a schedule to the remainder of our lazing about?"

You know he'd be into it.

[deathsmajesty]

Honestly, she could have gotten away with convincing him to spend his birthday lounging if she'd simply made an itinerary for their various lack-of-activities. And would have scored paramour bonus points by inserting a block simply labeled 'fun' so she could tell him that fun was literally on the schedule, just as he had a year ago.

Blue mana nerds, Liliana. This was what you got.

"Perhaps I'm simply trying to be efficient," Liliana teased, chivvying him out of the apartment. From the muffled sounds he could pick up, she seemed to also be carrying something. "After all, it would be a shame to let the day get away from us and waste all this time."

Outside of their front door was a small yard facing a road. And, parked directly in front of that yard, was a car that would feel very familiar.

Welcome, Ignis, to your perfect birthday.

[chef_chocobro]

"Your impression of me, darling," Ignis stated, with an amused huff before leaning in to kiss her, "is impeccable, right down to the insufferable cleverness and expediency. Although I daresay I could never reach your heights of scheming suberfuge."

There was, just then, a small, brief pause, as if the various new pieces were finding their place, and he just didn't quite know what to make of the whole of it yet.

Especially not when he doubted even this was the whole of it.

He shook his head, and kissed her again, though this one was not nearly as fleeting.

"I rather suspected," he told her with more of that smile that barely seemed to have left his face since they arrived, "you wouldn't truly just have me so idle on a day like today."

Did he mean the date, or just the beautiful weather? He felt his answer gave him plenty of plausible deniability either way.

[deathsmajesty]

Oh, like Liliana was the type to let mere weather interfere with her desired level of idleness. And let's be honest, as much as she hated to admit it, surely there was nothing she could surprise him with that would bring him as much joy as the cases of Ebony and what they represented. What else could she have in store for the drive beyond the picnic basket she'd had him carry down?

Ignore whatever she has been carrying, of course. Doubtlessly nothing of particular importance.

"Oh, don't think I wasn't tempted to keep us both locked away in the house," she teased. "I assure you, lover-mine, you would not have been left idle."

There were those tables and counters he'd mentioned earlier. And all those internal walls and floors and chairs and even the odd railing or two.

With another deep kiss, they got into the car, Liliana pulling a familiar box from her purse (a dreadful necessity whenever she was wearing Earth fashion), already playing the expected song and handing it over to him to hold. "Last chance to choose to stay inside," she teased. "It will merrily wreck my agenda, but it is your birthday."

[chef_chocobro]

"Tempting as though that may be," Ignis drawled in a way that seemed to have sucked up every ounce of dry sarcasm available to him, "I do hate to get in the way of an agenda, especially one as perfectly thought out as this one. Let us go and answer that call of the open road, meu amor."

Which might be slightly delayed, as he reached over to find her hand, but good things need not be rushed.

[deathsmajesty]

She pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, and then another to his mouth, but before the lure of kisses, caresses, and a (mostly-)empty backseat could destroy her precious timetable, she started the car, slid it in gear, and made for the open road.

Estrada Nacional 222 was not only a UNESCO World Heritage, it had also been voted the best road in the world, and there was no real confusion why. On one side flowed the Douro River, sunlight sparkling on the water, with picturesque rabelo boats holding wine-drinking tourists and weathered fisherfolk. On the other were the terraced landscapes beset with acres and acres of different vineyards, each with a pedigree and a history older than many of this plane's countries. It was not a straight road, either, with curves and turns and hills that made the drive itself fun, even beyond the gorgeous scenery that Liliana was describing to Ignis with a poet's tongue.

They drove for several hours, sometimes talking, sometimes lapsing into that easy silence that came from a place of not needing to talk to enjoy one another's company. It was about midway through the afternoon when Liliana came upon the viewpoint of São Leonardo da Galafura, one of the most famous viewpoints in the region. Pulling into the turnoff, she said, "I think this will do nicely for lunch, hmm? A truly spectacular view for me, and I suppose the landscape is quite attractive, too." A laugh, another quickly stolen kiss, and then they were making their way to a grassy outcropping, Ignis once again carrying the heavy picnic hamper, and Liliana carrying...something.

At least one of those things turned out to be a comfortable picnic blanket, the same one they'd enjoyed on the beach while stargazing. And inside the basket was a simple, though hearty luncheon of traditional Portuguese cuisine - and several bottles of wine.

"So, meu querido, did you wish to tell me about what it is that had you so contemplative this morning?" Liliana asked, halfway through a bifana - a sandwich made of thinly sliced pork chops marinated in white wine, lemon juice, bay leaf, garlic, and paprika, served in a papo seco, a popular white bread roll. "Or is it a secret that I shall somehow have to seduce out of you - assuming I don't get distracted by said seduction, of course."

[chef_chocobro]

Ignis had just finished washing down a bite of his bolinhos de bacalhau those little cod fish and potato fritters he'd been so taken with and was honing in on his own variation of a recipeh for, with a sip of his wine and he laughed.

"Well, if seduction is an option," he said, "then I would be a fool to do anything but hold my tongue until you manage to loosen it."

But there was something contemplative there again in his next sip. He had thought about potentially using that mysterious cargo of theirs as a bargaining chip of sorts, but he knew all would be revealed there in due time, and his patience was nothing if not....mostly evergreen.

"But a good deal of it," he offered, because some of it was indeed easy enough to share, mostly because he wanted to tell her, "was just about how much I've been enjoying this. You really have done a marvelous job. No surprises there, really, of course, but still..."

With a smile, he nodded, lifting his glass in salute.

"Thank you, Liliana."

He meant it for so much more than just some jaunt across seas in remembrance of a day that marked his entry into the world, of course, but that was not quite so easy to express.

[deathsmajesty]

"Of course, my darling," Liliana said softly. "You are worth doing such things for. You give of yourself unceasingly; it's only fair that someone else gives you even a fraction of the care you lavish upon the rest of us."

[chef_chocobro]

"Yes, well," there was something a little awkward in Ignis' laugh, something almost a little shy, maube a little bit of something else entirely, but he waved it off with a dismissively hand, "it still takes some getting used to, but you do make it exceedingly easier."

[deathsmajesty]

"Don't tell," she said, twining their fingers together and then using that grip to tug him in for a kiss. "I'd hate for it to get around that I can occasionally be inspired to be a helper for real." A soft laugh and another kiss. "But, truly, my darling...I don't understand how a man so clear about the value of things can be so unaware of the value in himself."

She blamed Regis. It was one of the many reasons she was going to kill him again.

[chef_chocobro]

"Your secrets," Ignis said, and if Liliana wasn't holding his one hand, they would both be cupped gently on her face as he kissed her back, slow and longing like he just wanted to fall into it and get lost on the same wonderful blur that marked their morning, "are always safe with me. I would certainly not want to be the one to tarnish your mystique."

A soft smile, and he brushed a strand of her hair back, though the breeze was likely to push it right back, and his fingers traced along her jawline a moment, trying to imagine the look on her face, the vibrancy of her eyes.

"But I don't think," he added softly, "it's a matter of being completely unaware of my value, 'Iana. It's much more of a matter of where it's placed, and that has always been best in the service of others."

[deathsmajesty]

Liliana took a moment to try to imagine herself with that outlook and failed. Utterly. Liliana served Liliana; the chance to be any different had died in a sickroom in the Caligo.

"Fortunately, then, you have me to remember that a little healthy selfishness is important," she said crisply, turning her thoughts away from such things. "Which reminds me..."

She regrettably had to let go of him needing to relocate briefly to fetch her mysterious cargo, placing it carefully down in front of him. "It wouldn't be a proper birthday celebration without a cake," she noted, unlatching the top of the sturdy plastic cake carrier. With that removed, the scent of freshly baked cake was free to find its way to his nostrils.

His favorite cake, of course. The chiffon cake from his childhood, just like the one he and Liliana had made a few months ago, when the island had turned him into a child once more.

A cake that he was certain had been baked less than twenty-four hours ago and yet had somehow still found its way here.