Post by Eurydice on Mar 18, 2008 21:46:57 GMT -5
((May still need editing, not just because I'm pretty sure that I was repetitive when I didn't need to be, or need to emphasize the deliberate repetitions, but mostly because my keyboard was going wonky when I was writing, so the "e," "c," and "shift" keys periodically didn't work.))
Kirjava crossed her arms. Wildeor stood beside her, pressed against her leg.
Valas raised an eyebrow.
Awkward silence ensued.
The two were standing at the bedside, she in a plain, white shift, he in a simple, black tunic. The inn's furnishings were comfortable without being lavish, simple, affordable, and more or less on par with every other wayside tavern wherein they'd stayed while they had travelled together. There was a washroom off to the side of the bedroom and a little sitting room with a sofa and some small tables where they had first come in. They had gotten a late start traveling, this morning, and had consequently been on the road until late. But, they had finally settled into their new room, and were down to the process of hashing out sleeping arangements.
Somewhere, a few blocks away, a clock chimed twice.
"This is silly," Kiri said finally, breaking the silence. "The little sofa in there's too short for you to be able to lie down on, but I'll fit fine."
"So I'll sit. I can sleep sitting up just fine, and you know that."
"You've slept sitting," she countered, "for the last three nights, and sitting on a hard-wood floor. I don't care who you are, that can't possibly be comfortable."
Valas exhaled, fingers drumming on his leg. "Technically, I don't sleep."
"Technically, neither do I."
He rolled his eyes. It was late, and the day had been long and tedious; he had often worked longer hours on less rest, but the pointless argument was beginning to grate on him. "Look, I'm not going to fight about this. You are sleeping on the bed, and that's that."
Chin jutting up, her face a mask of stubbornness, she folded her arms tighter. "You can't make me."
Valas shrugged. He closed the distance between them, picked her up, and unceremoniously dropped her on the bed. He ignored the disorientation of the contrast between where she was physically and where the illusion sugggested she should be. He also ignored Wildeor hissing softly and batting at his leg.
The elf tossed pale gold hair out of her face, glared daggers up at him, and slid off the bed to resume her previous stance. "Ass."
"I can do it again."
"You will not."
"Oh really?"
She stamped her tiny foot, barely even making a sound. "Fine, maybe you will, but I'll keep getting up again, and we'll do it over and over, and we'll go the whole night. Is that what you want?"
"No," he said, forcing calm, "I want you to get back into bed and go to sleep so that I can go to sleep, too. This is not a difficult concept."
Kiri's brow crinkled in annoyance as she stared up at him but slowly, slowly straightened as he stared back, unflinching. Finally, she exhaled sharply, looked away, and looked up again. "This is ridiculous. Let's just be adults about this, can we?"
Valas blinked.
The elf blushed deeply but continued staring up at him stolidly. "The bed's big enough for two," she said.
The elan studied her, eyebrow quirked, saying nothing for a time, his expression inscrutable. Kiri felt her face burn hotter under his scrutiny until finally, he nodded, and she looked away.
It took her nearly half an hour to calm down her familiar, who clearly objected to this plan very feelingly, but finally, he quit his yowling and hopped up on a bedside chair, circling and pawing the decorative cloth cover, finally sprawling there and glowering at them one last time before curling up in a little grey-brown ball. Neither speaking nor looking at each other, Kiri slid under the blanket first, moving to the edge of the bed that touched the wall, and Valas followed, pulling the blanket up against the autumnal chill.
It was difficult, though, trying to gauge where the figure beside him actually rested, and he felt terribly disinclined to reach out and physically feel for the line of her back in his endeavor to make sure he was giving her ample room. "Can you take off the ring? I can't see where..." He gestured vaguely.
She turned over and looked up at him, and now it was his turn to blush under her gaze as, unconsciously, she blasted him with a rush of embarrassment, irrational fear, and some other emotion that he couldn't quite place. Finally, she nodded; her hands met, something in the air shifted, like heat bending light, and the figure lying with him was suddenly tiny, dark-haired, black eyes shining. She quickly sat up, reached to set the ring on the shelf above the bed, and turned to face the wall again. Valas had the odd impression that she was holding back tears. He shuffled over as well, and back to back, they slept.
***
It was perfectly possible for Valas to be awoken prematurely, but he was rarely in a situation where it was a likely occurrance, excepting the untimely intrusion of his equal, opposite number, another assassin. Asleep with another, however, each little shift of the body or creak of the mattress could easily cause just the right disturbance to unsettle him enough to wake.
The clock outside was just chiming four, now. Valas had the impression of warmth on his face, like sunlight, and his eyes, already open, blinked into vision to see that both he and his companion, shifting restlessly in the moments before deep sleep, had turned in to face each other. Kirjava's breath brushed his cheek softly, feather-light, her face as pale as the sheets in the partially shuttered moonlight, brow furrowed in mute worry. He could feel her next to him, even though they were hardly touching, and he couldn't help but mark again how small she was, this tiny, sickly little thing beside him.
Despite his usual, implacable calm, he couldn't help being surprised at seeing her face there, so close to his; he breathed in sharply, and the abrupt noise woke her.
She, too, started back; both stared a moment, saying nothing, until finally, Kiri managed to force a breathless giggle to break the tension. "Um. Sorry." She turned over, the curve of her body hugging the wall, but he knew that she was still awake; scarlet burned bright against her white cheeks and her heart was racing.
"Sorry," he echoed, turning to face the door on the far side of the room again.
It had been years since Valas had been this physically intimate with someone, and it had been a lifetime since the instance before that. Some nights, in the half seconds between dreaming and wakefulness, he thought he could catch flashes of his old life, remember friends and family, although their images rarely stayed with him. He remembered that he had had a wife, although he could not always remember the shape of her face, the color of her eyes.
In the days after his transformation, he had often felt like he should miss her, but in truth, all that he had of her was the memory of a stranger.
As for the other moment of physical intimacy, well... Valas sighed ruefully. He could not classify it as a mistake, as easy as that might have been-- that contact had been something that he needed, at the time, a part of himself that needed to be awakened, and for that, he could not regret. But Belar'lyn had been so persistant after he had brought her back home, and he could not make their time together mean what she wanted it to mean. Every time they had been home together, since, it had been the same dance-- the flirting taunts, the dueling practice, the underlying tension and frustration. And again, he wonderd if he ought to feel more, but as time went on, he knew that he could not.
It felt so strange, lying next to this girl, this tiny, shapeless form under the sheets.
He heard her breathing fall evenly again. Valas nodded, content that his charge was safe, and slept.
***
Five chimes woke Kiri with a stifled gasp, pulling her out of thick dreams of Tyrnal and the old life that she missed so deeply.
She and Valas must have shifted again, for she was facing him, which was, although surprising, somewhat to be expected. Less expected, though, was the fact that his eyes were open as he slept, a fact which she had noted in the past, on nights when she had kept watch, but at this juncture, at a time where dreams and nightmares float seamlessly into reality, struck her anew with awe and fright. His eyes, wide and still contrasted earily with the relaxed angle of his jaw, the careless brush of firey hair that hung over his forehead. He looked asleep, for the most part. But those eyes...
The last time her face had been so close to another's was seven years ago. The guardsmen after her had, some way or another, gotten wind of what town she was hiding in, and they had spread out to search the properties. She had been hiding in the loft of a small barn, asleep when she heard the sound of footsteps on the ladder, and before she knew what was happening, a face was there in the darkness next to her.
She'd reacted without thinking; her hand shot out to grab his shoulder, and the point of her rapier met his throat.
After, with the search parties still going, she'd had to pull him up into the narrow loft with her-- there were no other nooks and crannies large enough to hide a corpse-- throwing up an illusory wall in front of them, which she should have done in the first place. She'd waited up there for hours, lying next to that corpse, hours of lying there, smelling blood, sweat, and filth, all the while seeing the dead man's unmoving eyes boring into hers, as if to say, "Oh yes, I may be dead, but I am still here."
She couldn't help it; she shuddered fiercely at the memory, and with a slight twitch, Valas awoke.
Seeing and sensing her wide-eyed fear, Valas sat up slightly, turning to the door, his right hand shooting down to where his knife lay beside the mattress, but there was no one there, save ghosts and shadows. He looked back at her. "Sorry... are you alright?"
With effort, she nodded once. "Sorry. Dreams. It's always dreams. It's nothing."
Valas regarded her gently, unobtrusively reading the anxieties that festered in her mind. After a moment, he remembered, slightly guilty and embarrassed, the bed they shared, their awkward truce for the night, and the fact that he was so close to her. He lowered his eyes. "Sorry," he said again, uselessly, and turned over to sleep.
Kiri faced the wall, breathing slowly, calming her racing heart. She was neither home, as she had dreamt, nor on the run, as she had remembered; she was safe, under the wing of her guardian beside her. She tried not to think about his eyes, their placid gaze, wide and still as death, as he slept. It took her some time before she was settled enough to think on sleeping herself.
***
Vague, pre-dawn light peeked through the shutters. Neither Kiri nor Valas was exactly aware of when they had crossed the threshold into wakefulness; neither did they remember who had woken first. It was still too early for them to rise-- the quality of the light outside told them as much-- but, facing each other once more, neither could quite sleep. All the world seemed to be hazy, ringed in shadow and light.
Huddled under the blanket, Kiri shivered. Without meaning to, without even realizing what he was doing, Valas reached out, gently working his arm under her the space between her neck and the pillow, pulling her in slightly. Her skin was cool against his arm, and she shivered again, feeling herself relax against the lean muscle of his shoulder. Thin black hair twisted in his hand as he cradled her head, hesitant, as if afraid he would break her.
Moments crept by, and unaware, unintenional, Kiri's fingers came to rest against his side. His chest rose and fell slowly, feeling the prickle of sensation spread through his torso.
Kiri exhaled a sigh that turned into a shudder, and Valas pulled her closer, pillowing her head on his shoulder. He was too drowsy for it too occur to him that this might be inappropriate or wrong. Their faces were inches from each other now.
Looking down at her, his gaze fixed in her eyes, Valas saw her looking up at him with such fear, raw and inexplicable and inexhaustable. It was something that never quite came through, in the illusion that usually made up her face, and though it boiled in her mind always, its constant pressure on her thoughts reduced it to background noise, and seeing it writ on her features now made him wish that he could drown out her fears, convince her that though every other constant in her life had fallen away, he would not. Nothing he could say would convince her, of course, but in an instant, looking into her frightened eyes, he knew with utmost certainty that it was true, and somehow, that would have to be good enough for both of them.
They lay very, very still, barely daring to breathe.
Infinitesimally slow, the pace of cliffs eroding, the pace of landscapes reforming, they edged closer until somehow, their foreheads were brushing. Their eyes never left each other. Hot breath warmed their faces.
Kirjava wanted to find something to break the moment, something to say, that they might laugh and turn over and sleep until the sun more fully reared its head. She wanted desperately for her heart, throbbing as if it would burst, leaping into her throat, to be still, but suddenly, she knew that even more desperately, she could not bear it if that pounding lessened.
Moments fell into halves of moments, one not connected to the next, and at once their lips brushed, pressed, crushed against each other with slow, unstoppable force.
They lay there, clutched against each other for an eternity, until Valas broke off, his cheek sliding against hers, his mouth pressing against her face, moving down her neck to kiss the soft curve of her shoulder. Kiri uttered a whispered gasp at the touch; her fingers closed on the front of his shirt, drawing herself in closer into his arms, burying her face in his bright red hair. She lay back as he broke off again, propped himself up on his elbow and forearm, and bent over her to kiss her again, deep and slow; Valas savored the feel of her, clasping herself to him, and all the fear and confusion that he had read rife in her heart before was burned away in the wash of warmth and joy that filled her now.
Outside, six chimes sounded. Valas laughed suddenly, unexpctedly. Kiri looked up at him, blankly questioning, and he bent to whisper to her. "Wil is going to kill us..."
Kirjava crossed her arms. Wildeor stood beside her, pressed against her leg.
Valas raised an eyebrow.
Awkward silence ensued.
The two were standing at the bedside, she in a plain, white shift, he in a simple, black tunic. The inn's furnishings were comfortable without being lavish, simple, affordable, and more or less on par with every other wayside tavern wherein they'd stayed while they had travelled together. There was a washroom off to the side of the bedroom and a little sitting room with a sofa and some small tables where they had first come in. They had gotten a late start traveling, this morning, and had consequently been on the road until late. But, they had finally settled into their new room, and were down to the process of hashing out sleeping arangements.
Somewhere, a few blocks away, a clock chimed twice.
"This is silly," Kiri said finally, breaking the silence. "The little sofa in there's too short for you to be able to lie down on, but I'll fit fine."
"So I'll sit. I can sleep sitting up just fine, and you know that."
"You've slept sitting," she countered, "for the last three nights, and sitting on a hard-wood floor. I don't care who you are, that can't possibly be comfortable."
Valas exhaled, fingers drumming on his leg. "Technically, I don't sleep."
"Technically, neither do I."
He rolled his eyes. It was late, and the day had been long and tedious; he had often worked longer hours on less rest, but the pointless argument was beginning to grate on him. "Look, I'm not going to fight about this. You are sleeping on the bed, and that's that."
Chin jutting up, her face a mask of stubbornness, she folded her arms tighter. "You can't make me."
Valas shrugged. He closed the distance between them, picked her up, and unceremoniously dropped her on the bed. He ignored the disorientation of the contrast between where she was physically and where the illusion sugggested she should be. He also ignored Wildeor hissing softly and batting at his leg.
The elf tossed pale gold hair out of her face, glared daggers up at him, and slid off the bed to resume her previous stance. "Ass."
"I can do it again."
"You will not."
"Oh really?"
She stamped her tiny foot, barely even making a sound. "Fine, maybe you will, but I'll keep getting up again, and we'll do it over and over, and we'll go the whole night. Is that what you want?"
"No," he said, forcing calm, "I want you to get back into bed and go to sleep so that I can go to sleep, too. This is not a difficult concept."
Kiri's brow crinkled in annoyance as she stared up at him but slowly, slowly straightened as he stared back, unflinching. Finally, she exhaled sharply, looked away, and looked up again. "This is ridiculous. Let's just be adults about this, can we?"
Valas blinked.
The elf blushed deeply but continued staring up at him stolidly. "The bed's big enough for two," she said.
The elan studied her, eyebrow quirked, saying nothing for a time, his expression inscrutable. Kiri felt her face burn hotter under his scrutiny until finally, he nodded, and she looked away.
It took her nearly half an hour to calm down her familiar, who clearly objected to this plan very feelingly, but finally, he quit his yowling and hopped up on a bedside chair, circling and pawing the decorative cloth cover, finally sprawling there and glowering at them one last time before curling up in a little grey-brown ball. Neither speaking nor looking at each other, Kiri slid under the blanket first, moving to the edge of the bed that touched the wall, and Valas followed, pulling the blanket up against the autumnal chill.
It was difficult, though, trying to gauge where the figure beside him actually rested, and he felt terribly disinclined to reach out and physically feel for the line of her back in his endeavor to make sure he was giving her ample room. "Can you take off the ring? I can't see where..." He gestured vaguely.
She turned over and looked up at him, and now it was his turn to blush under her gaze as, unconsciously, she blasted him with a rush of embarrassment, irrational fear, and some other emotion that he couldn't quite place. Finally, she nodded; her hands met, something in the air shifted, like heat bending light, and the figure lying with him was suddenly tiny, dark-haired, black eyes shining. She quickly sat up, reached to set the ring on the shelf above the bed, and turned to face the wall again. Valas had the odd impression that she was holding back tears. He shuffled over as well, and back to back, they slept.
***
It was perfectly possible for Valas to be awoken prematurely, but he was rarely in a situation where it was a likely occurrance, excepting the untimely intrusion of his equal, opposite number, another assassin. Asleep with another, however, each little shift of the body or creak of the mattress could easily cause just the right disturbance to unsettle him enough to wake.
The clock outside was just chiming four, now. Valas had the impression of warmth on his face, like sunlight, and his eyes, already open, blinked into vision to see that both he and his companion, shifting restlessly in the moments before deep sleep, had turned in to face each other. Kirjava's breath brushed his cheek softly, feather-light, her face as pale as the sheets in the partially shuttered moonlight, brow furrowed in mute worry. He could feel her next to him, even though they were hardly touching, and he couldn't help but mark again how small she was, this tiny, sickly little thing beside him.
Despite his usual, implacable calm, he couldn't help being surprised at seeing her face there, so close to his; he breathed in sharply, and the abrupt noise woke her.
She, too, started back; both stared a moment, saying nothing, until finally, Kiri managed to force a breathless giggle to break the tension. "Um. Sorry." She turned over, the curve of her body hugging the wall, but he knew that she was still awake; scarlet burned bright against her white cheeks and her heart was racing.
"Sorry," he echoed, turning to face the door on the far side of the room again.
It had been years since Valas had been this physically intimate with someone, and it had been a lifetime since the instance before that. Some nights, in the half seconds between dreaming and wakefulness, he thought he could catch flashes of his old life, remember friends and family, although their images rarely stayed with him. He remembered that he had had a wife, although he could not always remember the shape of her face, the color of her eyes.
In the days after his transformation, he had often felt like he should miss her, but in truth, all that he had of her was the memory of a stranger.
As for the other moment of physical intimacy, well... Valas sighed ruefully. He could not classify it as a mistake, as easy as that might have been-- that contact had been something that he needed, at the time, a part of himself that needed to be awakened, and for that, he could not regret. But Belar'lyn had been so persistant after he had brought her back home, and he could not make their time together mean what she wanted it to mean. Every time they had been home together, since, it had been the same dance-- the flirting taunts, the dueling practice, the underlying tension and frustration. And again, he wonderd if he ought to feel more, but as time went on, he knew that he could not.
It felt so strange, lying next to this girl, this tiny, shapeless form under the sheets.
He heard her breathing fall evenly again. Valas nodded, content that his charge was safe, and slept.
***
Five chimes woke Kiri with a stifled gasp, pulling her out of thick dreams of Tyrnal and the old life that she missed so deeply.
She and Valas must have shifted again, for she was facing him, which was, although surprising, somewhat to be expected. Less expected, though, was the fact that his eyes were open as he slept, a fact which she had noted in the past, on nights when she had kept watch, but at this juncture, at a time where dreams and nightmares float seamlessly into reality, struck her anew with awe and fright. His eyes, wide and still contrasted earily with the relaxed angle of his jaw, the careless brush of firey hair that hung over his forehead. He looked asleep, for the most part. But those eyes...
The last time her face had been so close to another's was seven years ago. The guardsmen after her had, some way or another, gotten wind of what town she was hiding in, and they had spread out to search the properties. She had been hiding in the loft of a small barn, asleep when she heard the sound of footsteps on the ladder, and before she knew what was happening, a face was there in the darkness next to her.
She'd reacted without thinking; her hand shot out to grab his shoulder, and the point of her rapier met his throat.
After, with the search parties still going, she'd had to pull him up into the narrow loft with her-- there were no other nooks and crannies large enough to hide a corpse-- throwing up an illusory wall in front of them, which she should have done in the first place. She'd waited up there for hours, lying next to that corpse, hours of lying there, smelling blood, sweat, and filth, all the while seeing the dead man's unmoving eyes boring into hers, as if to say, "Oh yes, I may be dead, but I am still here."
She couldn't help it; she shuddered fiercely at the memory, and with a slight twitch, Valas awoke.
Seeing and sensing her wide-eyed fear, Valas sat up slightly, turning to the door, his right hand shooting down to where his knife lay beside the mattress, but there was no one there, save ghosts and shadows. He looked back at her. "Sorry... are you alright?"
With effort, she nodded once. "Sorry. Dreams. It's always dreams. It's nothing."
Valas regarded her gently, unobtrusively reading the anxieties that festered in her mind. After a moment, he remembered, slightly guilty and embarrassed, the bed they shared, their awkward truce for the night, and the fact that he was so close to her. He lowered his eyes. "Sorry," he said again, uselessly, and turned over to sleep.
Kiri faced the wall, breathing slowly, calming her racing heart. She was neither home, as she had dreamt, nor on the run, as she had remembered; she was safe, under the wing of her guardian beside her. She tried not to think about his eyes, their placid gaze, wide and still as death, as he slept. It took her some time before she was settled enough to think on sleeping herself.
***
Vague, pre-dawn light peeked through the shutters. Neither Kiri nor Valas was exactly aware of when they had crossed the threshold into wakefulness; neither did they remember who had woken first. It was still too early for them to rise-- the quality of the light outside told them as much-- but, facing each other once more, neither could quite sleep. All the world seemed to be hazy, ringed in shadow and light.
Huddled under the blanket, Kiri shivered. Without meaning to, without even realizing what he was doing, Valas reached out, gently working his arm under her the space between her neck and the pillow, pulling her in slightly. Her skin was cool against his arm, and she shivered again, feeling herself relax against the lean muscle of his shoulder. Thin black hair twisted in his hand as he cradled her head, hesitant, as if afraid he would break her.
Moments crept by, and unaware, unintenional, Kiri's fingers came to rest against his side. His chest rose and fell slowly, feeling the prickle of sensation spread through his torso.
Kiri exhaled a sigh that turned into a shudder, and Valas pulled her closer, pillowing her head on his shoulder. He was too drowsy for it too occur to him that this might be inappropriate or wrong. Their faces were inches from each other now.
Looking down at her, his gaze fixed in her eyes, Valas saw her looking up at him with such fear, raw and inexplicable and inexhaustable. It was something that never quite came through, in the illusion that usually made up her face, and though it boiled in her mind always, its constant pressure on her thoughts reduced it to background noise, and seeing it writ on her features now made him wish that he could drown out her fears, convince her that though every other constant in her life had fallen away, he would not. Nothing he could say would convince her, of course, but in an instant, looking into her frightened eyes, he knew with utmost certainty that it was true, and somehow, that would have to be good enough for both of them.
They lay very, very still, barely daring to breathe.
Infinitesimally slow, the pace of cliffs eroding, the pace of landscapes reforming, they edged closer until somehow, their foreheads were brushing. Their eyes never left each other. Hot breath warmed their faces.
Kirjava wanted to find something to break the moment, something to say, that they might laugh and turn over and sleep until the sun more fully reared its head. She wanted desperately for her heart, throbbing as if it would burst, leaping into her throat, to be still, but suddenly, she knew that even more desperately, she could not bear it if that pounding lessened.
Moments fell into halves of moments, one not connected to the next, and at once their lips brushed, pressed, crushed against each other with slow, unstoppable force.
They lay there, clutched against each other for an eternity, until Valas broke off, his cheek sliding against hers, his mouth pressing against her face, moving down her neck to kiss the soft curve of her shoulder. Kiri uttered a whispered gasp at the touch; her fingers closed on the front of his shirt, drawing herself in closer into his arms, burying her face in his bright red hair. She lay back as he broke off again, propped himself up on his elbow and forearm, and bent over her to kiss her again, deep and slow; Valas savored the feel of her, clasping herself to him, and all the fear and confusion that he had read rife in her heart before was burned away in the wash of warmth and joy that filled her now.
Outside, six chimes sounded. Valas laughed suddenly, unexpctedly. Kiri looked up at him, blankly questioning, and he bent to whisper to her. "Wil is going to kill us..."