You didn't have to do it, all the same. [They weren't even on speaking terms, then. Yet she'd swallowed her -- pride, embarassment, whatever it was -- and repaid a perceived debt anyway.] That honourable streak of yours... I admire it.
[It's something he'll never have, he knows that much. He drains the last of his tea and sets the cup aside. Part of him is still curious about how sensitive her equine body is to touch, and his hand travels up to her back, to the ridges of her lengthy spine. He wants her to be comfortable with this closeness, little by little. Just as he, a human with such a limited viewpoint of jinba, should make efforts to learn more of her.]
[He admires it, he says. She cannot help but doubt it a little, even if he sounds honest enough.]
Are you sure you do not find it “outdated” and foolish… ?
[By the sound of her voice, those are definitely quotes… but the touch is distracting and it takes the edge off her words, unable to present herself as hard or particularly intimidating when his fingers dance up to her long spine, making her withers twitch and rustling the bit of vestigial mane between her equine shoulders, a dark line of hair that seems to trace a little ways up her more human-like spine as well, slightly obscured beneath the fabric of her underrobe.]
I'd say they have a cynical way of looking at things. A trait like that is the sign of a good person.
[Like her. Like Dimitri. Neither were perfect, both had their demons, but they still had certain noble convictions they were determined to stand by, no matter how restrictive.
As his fingers travel along and he reaches the trail of mane-like fur that goes up to her human spine, he realises it is, dare he even think the forbidden word, cute. His fingers brush up against her bare skin and the slight dusting of fur just before it becomes hidden by her clothes.]
We're all from different worlds and cultures. It wouldn't kill people to be a little more open-minded about different ways of thinking, would it...? [...Then again, killing each other for thinking differently is the whole conflict this place is founded on.]
[He says that, that it is the sign of a good person… but Hayame can’t believe that. Not because she thinks him a liar, but because… she knows very well that her sense of honor leads often and directly to violence. It was for her honor that she had beheaded her enemies in Venera in Kenos, for her honor that she found herself unable to back down or de-escalate so many arguments and spats with her fellow Meridian, for that same tattered, false-from-the-beginning honor that she’d hunted traitors beneath the roots…
She didn’t think it made her a bad person, either, just. A warrior. A warrior trying to live with honor because she had almost nothing else.
Her thoughts become… somewhat annoyingly jumbled, however, when a hand traces up her spine to her mane, making her shoulders tense up and her fingers curl tightly on her tea cup. Canines nip into her bottom lip and her head lilts to the side, unsure if… was he attempting to proposition her? Teasing her? She can’t tell-]
W- well, you can preach that to Meridian in your next communion…
[(Never mind it was probably meant to apply to her, too.)]
[True, a sense of honour mixed with a warrior code can prove a nightmarish combination, something he knows all too well. But if there were a way to disentangle the two, and those noble inclinations were applied purely to peaceful means...
Well, that's a thought for later. He has to suppress a laugh, seeing the reaction to his touch. So she was sensitive there, too?]
Oh? Would you like me to sing your praises in this communion, too?
[He's carding his fingers through the mane, half-expecting to get swatted away before long.]
[... It feels good, his fingers brushing through that coarse line of dark hair along her spine that trailed over both equine and human-like parts of her. No one has ever done that before. It makes her tail twitch, and she almost... But no. He says that and-]
No.
[Her fingers tighten noticably on her foreknees, her gaze narrowing in a recollection she had not wanted. She has tried to keep peace and not bring it up when she was a guest in his home, but-]
You should not have brought me up in the last one, either. I can speak for myself.
[His hand goes still, and internally, he winces. He supposes he should have seen this come up sooner or later.]
I know you can. I just wanted to move the conversation along, since you've already made it pretty clear you don't want to participate.
[He didn't want to listen to people tossing insults at her or otherwise saying unkind things about her. The deflection seems to have worked, by and large... not that it stopped Hayame elsewhere in the discussions.]
I would have made it clear that I did not wish to participate.
[Which would be... famous last words, once she realizes they're going to discuss Alenroux and she doesn't trust a single one of them to fight for it as hard or as stubbornly as she would.]
And if I had said it, people would have been far more hesitant to air out their opinions of whether I would have made a good ambassador or not.
[- So apparently she doesn't consider his deflection to have worked. Also apparently... She was very offended by what was said there, whether she wanted to do it or not.]
I was just trying to help. Whoever put your name forward was probably trying to rile you up, so I thought I'd nip it in the bud. Even if they weren't, Set was definitely trying to bait people with the whole... vetting process.
[He'd noticed Hayame arguing with people anyway, so it seemed like she'd taken the bait to at least some degree, but. Well. It is what it is.]
I realise you can fight your own battles, but sometimes there are battles that just aren't worthwhile.
[Set knew better than to have put her name in there, so it had to be someone else.... Of course, he didn't remove her from the list, but. She is sure someone else had put it in there to begin with. And as much as she has a certain person (demon) in mind... she had enemies enough that she cannot be sure.]
If the battle isn't worthwhile, I do not need you fighting it for me, either.
[Not worthwhile, he says. As if watching fools nominate the most unfitting people did not warrant some attempt at intervention?]
We have this [bullshit!] Communion, do we not? You can ask my permission first.
I figured you'd get angry if I asked. I realise now that's no excuse, though, so I'm sorry. Old habits.
[Old habits where he acts first, and seeks forgiveness rather than permission. He knows people aren't things to move around a chessboard against each other, but they have thoughts and feelings about the ones doing the moving, too. He just tends to lose sight of it in the moment, and not many pull him up on it in the way that she has.]
I thought I was just making good on my promise to be on your side, but I'll talk to you about it in the future.
Hayame frowns at him, but when it comes to saying anything else... She is somewhat stymied. One of the advantages(?) to never having had bonds as she did now was that... She did not know how to argue without going scorched earth. Was that enough to express her displeasure? She did not accept his apology in words to be extra stern, but...
She supposed she could see how he might consider that fulfilling his promise.]
... Good.
[... Admittedly, Set had told her the same, and still continued to blindside her, but.
She takes a sullen sip of her tea, draining the cup.]
And... on the off chance there's anything you want to do for me, you can always talk to me first, too. Then we'll be a real team, right? Partners who work together, not against each other.
[Even if he made it clear there's nothing he wants or expects from her, maybe an arragement like that will help her feel more like they're on an even footing, and not like she owes him anything.
He returns to petting her mane in slow, gentle touches.]
Hayame's lips purse in thought as if mulling over the proposition, tipping her head slightly to the side and sending her heavy bun of hair shifting likewise. She does him the service of attempting to imagine it, but she does not imagine she will leap to defend him in public... mainly because he can fight his own battles. (Secondarily... because he does not have nearly as many enemies as she does, it seems.) But... if she were to do it, she would naturally inform him first, she thinks, so as not to be a hypocrite, so-]
... I can acknowledge that.
[Her cup is empty, but she does not particularly want to drink more. Instead, she holds the empty cup to give her fingers something to do as the expression on her face drains from stern back to something more abashed. She lapses into silence, but... that silence is kept imperfect by the sound of her tail swishing across his sheets in time with the slow, calming strokes of his fingers through her vestigial mane.]
All right. [He says softly. He's quiet as he enjoys the peaceable silence, the gentle swish of her tail, the soft mane under his fingers. Maybe he should try this more often when she's angry with him...? It seems to have a soothing effect, at any rate.
After a time, though, he offers to take her cup.]
Ready to hit the hay for the evening? Or... not hit the hay, for once.
[Hayame does not mind silence, usually. She is used to it far more than she is to talking, at any rate, because all her life she had never been encouraged to speak. Jinba were meant to be seen and not heard, to simply be obedient without protest. Even now that she has the right to speak, and uses it what she considers liberally... silence was more familiar. But this silence is...
Or maybe that's just because he is stroking his fingers through her mane, and it feels good, and distracting...
But little can distract her from the finality of that question.]
... Yes. I prefer to retire early.
[Early to bed, early to rise, and all that, but. As she surrenders her cup, and moves to begin undoing the outer layer of her robe...]
- I cannot lay on my side the whole night.
[She did not know if wyverns were the same, or he was familiar with horses in that way, but in a similar fashion... she was simply too heavy to lay down for more than a few hours without risking suffocating under her own body weight. She doesn't want to ask and compare herself to an animal, though, so she does not say it.]
[Claude takes the cup and sets it on the table. As an early riser, too, there's no protest from him, so it seems they have another instance where their preferences align.]
Gotcha. Just shove me around if I don't wake up right away, I don't mind.
[He can be a heavy sleeper, and he imagines she'd have no qualms abound just... pushing him to the floor so she can roll around, or something. He unfastens his earring and removes it, then starts on his shirt next.]
[Just shove him around... She tsks under her breath, mostly to herself, and mostly just to try and prevent herself from saying something that might embarrass herself. Because she is... preparing to go to bed with a man who has claimed to love her, and she may have managed things in the depths of heat but that...
That was an entirely different thing. Watching someone intentionally undress, intentionally doing it herself... The flush comes back to her skin, even more obvious when she shrugs out of her outer robe and folds it, laying it to the side and leaving only the thin black layer and her bindings, which she reaches into her clothing to loosen slightly for comfort.]
I am not going to shove you...
[Is what she finally goes with, beginning to shift over to one side of the mattress with a few awkward kicks.
She does not mean to, but. She does peek over at him as he undresses.]
Why not? Might be cathartic to be a little rough with me. [If there was any doubt as to whether the suggestiveness of that sentence was intentional, it becomes clear when he catches her peeking and flashes her a wink. He shrugs off his shirt and leaves it next to the bed, but he does at least spare her by not undressing all the way.
One thing at a time, like everything else in this relationship.]
[- She wasn't looking! She wasn't. So she can't react to that stupid, foolish winking that he does, behind flushing darker and averting her gaze more obviously. (Should she be looking? He might want her to, but-)]
There are plenty of people I would rather abuse before you.
[... Is that a compliment? She doesn't even know, so she moves to manhandle the sheets into place instead, awkwardly shifting her heavier shape, clumsier when lying down, to try and get under them.]
Wow, I'm honoured... I think. [He laughs at the absurdity of the statement, and helps tug the sheets so she can pull them over herself. Once she's at least a little of the ways there, he moves to turn off the lights. It's never truly dark in Springstar, and even now, the light peeks through the edges of the blinds, faintly illuminating the room once their eyes adjust, but it's something like sunset outside enough to almost feel like it could turn to night.]
Good night, then.
[He says it quietly, slipping under the sheets beside her.]
[He should be honored... She thinks. She doesn't mind his laughter if it is over something like that. And the sheets, well. The help is... helpful. And with the lights off and the room at least dim... she feels more comfortable thinking that he won't be able to easily see how red her face was.]
... Good night, Khalid.
[Just like in the wake of the Blight, initially... she offers him only her back. Even like that, though... it is hard for her to fall asleep. He is close, and he is warm, and she is not used to sleeping beside others. She feels like she can sense his heartbeat- or that he could feel hers, pounding in twin pulse. But eventually... eventually she does manage to relax enough for her breathing to even out, drifting into the light, uneasy sleep she was accustomed to, always ready for some sort of attack or disturbance.
True to her warning, though... it is only a few hours later that her breathing begins to grow slightly labored, enough to rouse her from sleep in the night. Carefully, she props her upper half on her elbows and then her hands, looking over at the sleeping man beside her. ... He looked peaceful (and somewhat handsome), nestled into the pillow. She didn't want to disturb him, but...]
I'm going to move...
[She murmurs it into the air between them as an apology before she begins the ponderous process of rolling over, trying not to tangle her long legs in the sheets and not kick him with a hoof.]
[Claude, too, would be a light sleeper back home, living in a world of constant threat of assassination as he has. In Kenos he can rest easier, though, doubly so when he's next to someone he can trust, and so he's breathing evenly where he sleeps, completely disarmed, even from the usual smile he has fixed in place. At some point in the night, one hand has moved to rest lightly on her withers, as if recalling where he'd touched her vestigial mane not long before.
When she speaks quietly and begins to move, though, he lets out a quiet 'mmm?' and looks like he might wake up...
Only to roll over as she does, and go straight back to sleep. It... might give her more room to not kick him, at least?]
Hayame thinks she is glad for that, at first, because honestly... it is not very dignified, a jinba trying to roll over on a flat surface. Unlike a horse, she has human hands to assist, to brace and push off, but still... she grunts a bit as she shifts, pulling her legs in tight to her body to keep from kicking him along the way. Once she succeeds she could just lay back down fully, but...
She finds that she has paused once more, propped up on an elbow and just... looking at him, her hearts lodged somewhere in her throat. Pretending to have a reason not to just fall back asleep herself, she carefully fixes the sheets... but her eyes keep returning to his face. She finds herself leaning closer, closer... until the tip of her nose just begins to brush his dark hair and she can inhale softly, taking in his scent alone in the dark. ... He smelled good.
If she... If she were going to accept what he'd said to her in Alenroux, if she were going to believe it...]
... Are you asleep... ?
[The whisper ghosts over the shell of his ear as she hesitantly moves even closer, enough that she can nuzzle gently into his hair, a foreleg cautiously uncurling and dragging along his side.]
[Claude tends to carry a faint smell of warm spices and citrus, with leather notes, likely from the riding gear he's often seen in. He's still asleep, too, at least until her voice and breath tickle against the sensitive skin of his ear, and he cracks a green eye open. She feels... warm where she nuzzles him, drags her leg against his side, and it suffuses him with a soft, contented feeling that could send him right back to sleep again. He doesn't, though, at least not yet.]
You okay? [He says, drowsy, one hand drifting under the sheets to touch her foreleg.]
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leicesters) wrote2022-12-06 08:26 pm
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[It's something he'll never have, he knows that much. He drains the last of his tea and sets the cup aside. Part of him is still curious about how sensitive her equine body is to touch, and his hand travels up to her back, to the ridges of her lengthy spine. He wants her to be comfortable with this closeness, little by little. Just as he, a human with such a limited viewpoint of jinba, should make efforts to learn more of her.]
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Are you sure you do not find it “outdated” and foolish… ?
[By the sound of her voice, those are definitely quotes… but the touch is distracting and it takes the edge off her words, unable to present herself as hard or particularly intimidating when his fingers dance up to her long spine, making her withers twitch and rustling the bit of vestigial mane between her equine shoulders, a dark line of hair that seems to trace a little ways up her more human-like spine as well, slightly obscured beneath the fabric of her underrobe.]
Most certainly seem to…
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[Like her. Like Dimitri. Neither were perfect, both had their demons, but they still had certain noble convictions they were determined to stand by, no matter how restrictive.
As his fingers travel along and he reaches the trail of mane-like fur that goes up to her human spine, he realises it is, dare he even think the forbidden word, cute. His fingers brush up against her bare skin and the slight dusting of fur just before it becomes hidden by her clothes.]
We're all from different worlds and cultures. It wouldn't kill people to be a little more open-minded about different ways of thinking, would it...? [...Then again, killing each other for thinking differently is the whole conflict this place is founded on.]
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She didn’t think it made her a bad person, either, just. A warrior. A warrior trying to live with honor because she had almost nothing else.
Her thoughts become… somewhat annoyingly jumbled, however, when a hand traces up her spine to her mane, making her shoulders tense up and her fingers curl tightly on her tea cup. Canines nip into her bottom lip and her head lilts to the side, unsure if… was he attempting to proposition her? Teasing her? She can’t tell-]
W- well, you can preach that to Meridian in your next communion…
[(Never mind it was probably meant to apply to her, too.)]
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Well, that's a thought for later. He has to suppress a laugh, seeing the reaction to his touch. So she was sensitive there, too?]
Oh? Would you like me to sing your praises in this communion, too?
[He's carding his fingers through the mane, half-expecting to get swatted away before long.]
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No.
[Her fingers tighten noticably on her foreknees, her gaze narrowing in a recollection she had not wanted. She has tried to keep peace and not bring it up when she was a guest in his home, but-]
You should not have brought me up in the last one, either. I can speak for myself.
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I know you can. I just wanted to move the conversation along, since you've already made it pretty clear you don't want to participate.
[He didn't want to listen to people tossing insults at her or otherwise saying unkind things about her. The deflection seems to have worked, by and large... not that it stopped Hayame elsewhere in the discussions.]
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[Which would be... famous last words, once she realizes they're going to discuss Alenroux and she doesn't trust a single one of them to fight for it as hard or as stubbornly as she would.]
And if I had said it, people would have been far more hesitant to air out their opinions of whether I would have made a good ambassador or not.
[- So apparently she doesn't consider his deflection to have worked. Also apparently... She was very offended by what was said there, whether she wanted to do it or not.]
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[He'd noticed Hayame arguing with people anyway, so it seemed like she'd taken the bait to at least some degree, but. Well. It is what it is.]
I realise you can fight your own battles, but sometimes there are battles that just aren't worthwhile.
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If the battle isn't worthwhile, I do not need you fighting it for me, either.
[Not worthwhile, he says. As if watching fools nominate the most unfitting people did not warrant some attempt at intervention?]
We have this [bullshit!] Communion, do we not? You can ask my permission first.
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[Old habits where he acts first, and seeks forgiveness rather than permission. He knows people aren't things to move around a chessboard against each other, but they have thoughts and feelings about the ones doing the moving, too. He just tends to lose sight of it in the moment, and not many pull him up on it in the way that she has.]
I thought I was just making good on my promise to be on your side, but I'll talk to you about it in the future.
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[So... There.
Hayame frowns at him, but when it comes to saying anything else... She is somewhat stymied. One of the advantages(?) to never having had bonds as she did now was that... She did not know how to argue without going scorched earth. Was that enough to express her displeasure? She did not accept his apology in words to be extra stern, but...
She supposed she could see how he might consider that fulfilling his promise.]
... Good.
[... Admittedly, Set had told her the same, and still continued to blindside her, but.
She takes a sullen sip of her tea, draining the cup.]
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[Even if he made it clear there's nothing he wants or expects from her, maybe an arragement like that will help her feel more like they're on an even footing, and not like she owes him anything.
He returns to petting her mane in slow, gentle touches.]
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Hayame's lips purse in thought as if mulling over the proposition, tipping her head slightly to the side and sending her heavy bun of hair shifting likewise. She does him the service of attempting to imagine it, but she does not imagine she will leap to defend him in public... mainly because he can fight his own battles. (Secondarily... because he does not have nearly as many enemies as she does, it seems.) But... if she were to do it, she would naturally inform him first, she thinks, so as not to be a hypocrite, so-]
... I can acknowledge that.
[Her cup is empty, but she does not particularly want to drink more. Instead, she holds the empty cup to give her fingers something to do as the expression on her face drains from stern back to something more abashed. She lapses into silence, but... that silence is kept imperfect by the sound of her tail swishing across his sheets in time with the slow, calming strokes of his fingers through her vestigial mane.]
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After a time, though, he offers to take her cup.]
Ready to hit the hay for the evening? Or... not hit the hay, for once.
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Or maybe that's just because he is stroking his fingers through her mane, and it feels good, and distracting...
But little can distract her from the finality of that question.]
... Yes. I prefer to retire early.
[Early to bed, early to rise, and all that, but. As she surrenders her cup, and moves to begin undoing the outer layer of her robe...]
- I cannot lay on my side the whole night.
[She did not know if wyverns were the same, or he was familiar with horses in that way, but in a similar fashion... she was simply too heavy to lay down for more than a few hours without risking suffocating under her own body weight. She doesn't want to ask and compare herself to an animal, though, so she does not say it.]
I will likely disturb you at least twice.
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Gotcha. Just shove me around if I don't wake up right away, I don't mind.
[He can be a heavy sleeper, and he imagines she'd have no qualms abound just... pushing him to the floor so she can roll around, or something. He unfastens his earring and removes it, then starts on his shirt next.]
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That was an entirely different thing. Watching someone intentionally undress, intentionally doing it herself... The flush comes back to her skin, even more obvious when she shrugs out of her outer robe and folds it, laying it to the side and leaving only the thin black layer and her bindings, which she reaches into her clothing to loosen slightly for comfort.]
I am not going to shove you...
[Is what she finally goes with, beginning to shift over to one side of the mattress with a few awkward kicks.
She does not mean to, but. She does peek over at him as he undresses.]
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One thing at a time, like everything else in this relationship.]
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There are plenty of people I would rather abuse before you.
[... Is that a compliment? She doesn't even know, so she moves to manhandle the sheets into place instead, awkwardly shifting her heavier shape, clumsier when lying down, to try and get under them.]
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Good night, then.
[He says it quietly, slipping under the sheets beside her.]
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... Good night, Khalid.
[Just like in the wake of the Blight, initially... she offers him only her back. Even like that, though... it is hard for her to fall asleep. He is close, and he is warm, and she is not used to sleeping beside others. She feels like she can sense his heartbeat- or that he could feel hers, pounding in twin pulse. But eventually... eventually she does manage to relax enough for her breathing to even out, drifting into the light, uneasy sleep she was accustomed to, always ready for some sort of attack or disturbance.
True to her warning, though... it is only a few hours later that her breathing begins to grow slightly labored, enough to rouse her from sleep in the night. Carefully, she props her upper half on her elbows and then her hands, looking over at the sleeping man beside her. ... He looked peaceful (and somewhat handsome), nestled into the pillow. She didn't want to disturb him, but...]
I'm going to move...
[She murmurs it into the air between them as an apology before she begins the ponderous process of rolling over, trying not to tangle her long legs in the sheets and not kick him with a hoof.]
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When she speaks quietly and begins to move, though, he lets out a quiet 'mmm?' and looks like he might wake up...
Only to roll over as she does, and go straight back to sleep. It... might give her more room to not kick him, at least?]
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Hayame thinks she is glad for that, at first, because honestly... it is not very dignified, a jinba trying to roll over on a flat surface. Unlike a horse, she has human hands to assist, to brace and push off, but still... she grunts a bit as she shifts, pulling her legs in tight to her body to keep from kicking him along the way. Once she succeeds she could just lay back down fully, but...
She finds that she has paused once more, propped up on an elbow and just... looking at him, her hearts lodged somewhere in her throat. Pretending to have a reason not to just fall back asleep herself, she carefully fixes the sheets... but her eyes keep returning to his face. She finds herself leaning closer, closer... until the tip of her nose just begins to brush his dark hair and she can inhale softly, taking in his scent alone in the dark. ... He smelled good.
If she... If she were going to accept what he'd said to her in Alenroux, if she were going to believe it...]
... Are you asleep... ?
[The whisper ghosts over the shell of his ear as she hesitantly moves even closer, enough that she can nuzzle gently into his hair, a foreleg cautiously uncurling and dragging along his side.]
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You okay? [He says, drowsy, one hand drifting under the sheets to touch her foreleg.]
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