The corners of Meredith's lips turned upwards into a grin. His hands dragged down her sides to the layers of fabric tied into that skirt that hugged her hips, his long dexterous fingers slowly undoing the knots, lips pressed to the back of her neck. He must have thought that he was teasing her.

"Orsino." She turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, a short sigh leaving her nose. "What have I told you about–"

"I know," he replied, pressing a kiss once again to the back of her neck, his eyes closed, before resting his forehead where he had just kissed her skin. "And I don't care, Meredith."

She raised her eyebrows but smiled, returning her gaze in front of her.

He unknotted the fabric around her hips and haphazardly let it fall to the ground, where her heavy pauldrons and gauntlets were already forming a pile on the floor with her headdress and hood. He lifted his hand to move her hair away from the back of her neck and over her shoulder before continuing to press kisses to the back of her neck, fleeting and gentle as the man often was with her. It drove her insane, and not in the way he was sure to like.

She was about to snip again when his fingers moved over the latches holding her chain under armor together, and her heart began to beat more quickly, hard and loud in her chest. He dipped his fingers between the layers of her chainmail, rather than unlatching the garment; her skin burned at the touch. His fingers were soft against her skin, rather than calloused as she always expected.

"Orsino…"

As he unlatched the chainmail her grin widened, crooked over her face. She was slowly released of the heavy garment, it being dragged off of her shoulders and over her arms as his hands moved over her skin. His fingertips kissed her as he touched, leaving goosebumps in their wake; he was so gentle with her no matter how many warnings he received. He didn't care for her scolding, particularly when they were behind closed doors, she began to notice. He would pay for that this eve as they hid in her office, the door locked, the setting sun leaving their long shadows on the floor. She had been finding amusement in watching them as he stripped her article by article without care for what she had to say.

Suddenly his fingers stopped, his lips lifting from the back of her neck. He was quiet, as if he weren't even there. Her lips twitched, tasting sweet victory.

"Meredith, what is…?"

"It's Orlesian." She turned to face him so he could see the article he had just uncovered, a reward, as if he had unwrapped a Satinalia gift. In a way, she enjoyed the thought that that was what she was.

"They call it 'lingerie'," she continued, and lifted her hands to rest on his shoulders. She was sure it didn't suit her; the fabric was sheer and tight, bright pink against her pale porcelain skin. Yellow bows held the fabric over her breasts together, her skin just barely peeking through the slits in the cups. It was just enough room for his fingers to slip in, if he so wished. Her blonde waves framed her face, her cerulean eyes piercing his own; the look of bewilderment he had on his face was more than enough reward for her in return.

She kissed him, her lips hard on his own. She had been waiting for this all day, knowing what hid under the chainmail she wore, hoping the metal didn't catch on the delicate fabric no one could see but she knew was there. He didn't kiss her back, and she pulled her lips away to look up at him once more, a grin spreading over her lips.

"There's more of it." She kept speaking, sure he wasn't about to. It was hard to speak when your lips hanging open the way his were. "But you'll have to take my pants off. I'm not doing it for you."

Soon his smile matched her own, wicked in its own right, and he kissed her.

She knew there was fire in the man's bones. She just needed to set it loose.