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The wind was picking up as the weather shifted and a small coastal storm was starting to blow in. It was still warm but there was a feeling of discontent in the air as if the Gods themselves were uncertain of the future. The gray stallion beneath her tossed his head but after an entire day of chasing every hill in front of them he wasn’t of a mind to shy at something as blithe as the wind. It was the third time she’d ridden past the driveway to his manor and she didn’t even know if he was still in the city or if he’d returned to Meganea but there was a deep longing to see his face. Evangelina knew that the days going up to the wedding she was supposed to keep away, but when had she ever been conventional. Sitting there on Altair, she was tired of fighting the desire to see him. To have his arms envelop her and to simply soak up the warmth and goodness of him.
The day had been… not good. She was tired and every muscle in her body ached with an exhaustion that she wasn’t familiar with. Things that had been pent up and eating away at her over the years had been released and she felt stripped and bare and… as unsteady as a newborn colt trying to find their point of balance on wobbly legs. She should turn her horse and ride back the short distance to the Leventi manors, go home, soak in a long hot bath… listen to the rain that would inevitably come with the storm as the sun sank lower this evening, and brick by brick repair her soul on her own. She should do that, but… the comfort she wanted the most was possibly right there… Right in front of her.
Swinging her legs free she slid off the grey and led him over to a nearby tree and sat down in the alcove of the roots. The forest green of her cloak revealed a brilliant magenta chiton underneath. Her hair was sticking in every direction but that thought never crossed her mind as she settled into the spot near the end of his drive. If she had to stay away, maybe she could just… sit here and close her eyes and simply find the same quiet being near his home. Zeus only knew she wasn’t going to find it back at the Leventi manors. Altair cropped grass nearby seeming rather content.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the tree and took a deep, cleansing breath of the wet breezy air. Comfort eased over her as her body relaxed into the tree and before long she was taking long deep breaths of a person who slept deeply. It could have been five minutes or fifty minutes but the wind picked up more speed gusting blowing leaves about. A crack of lightning flashed through the air and the sound of a whinny and clip-clop of hooves before silence again. Curling into the alcove, reality never quite seeped into her mind. Her thoughts had finally quieted and she’d found relief from the disastrous day she’d had and that was all that had mattered.
Altair wasn’t as relaxed as his rider though, the gusting winds blowing the leaves… the crack of lightning it all had unsettled him. He wasn’t used to the feelings of the weighty slow droplets of rain that sprinkled down on him. His head thrown up into the air, and his tail lifted like a gray banner, he trotted loftily down the unfamiliar drive flinging his hips from side to side in his typical peacock fashion. A bugle-like squeal erupted from him as he approached the house and seemed to make a bee line for the stable and other horses. His reins dangled and it would have been obvious to anyone that the stallion was missing an integral piece of his tack. His rider.
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Check out their information page here.
The wind was picking up as the weather shifted and a small coastal storm was starting to blow in. It was still warm but there was a feeling of discontent in the air as if the Gods themselves were uncertain of the future. The gray stallion beneath her tossed his head but after an entire day of chasing every hill in front of them he wasn’t of a mind to shy at something as blithe as the wind. It was the third time she’d ridden past the driveway to his manor and she didn’t even know if he was still in the city or if he’d returned to Meganea but there was a deep longing to see his face. Evangelina knew that the days going up to the wedding she was supposed to keep away, but when had she ever been conventional. Sitting there on Altair, she was tired of fighting the desire to see him. To have his arms envelop her and to simply soak up the warmth and goodness of him.
The day had been… not good. She was tired and every muscle in her body ached with an exhaustion that she wasn’t familiar with. Things that had been pent up and eating away at her over the years had been released and she felt stripped and bare and… as unsteady as a newborn colt trying to find their point of balance on wobbly legs. She should turn her horse and ride back the short distance to the Leventi manors, go home, soak in a long hot bath… listen to the rain that would inevitably come with the storm as the sun sank lower this evening, and brick by brick repair her soul on her own. She should do that, but… the comfort she wanted the most was possibly right there… Right in front of her.
Swinging her legs free she slid off the grey and led him over to a nearby tree and sat down in the alcove of the roots. The forest green of her cloak revealed a brilliant magenta chiton underneath. Her hair was sticking in every direction but that thought never crossed her mind as she settled into the spot near the end of his drive. If she had to stay away, maybe she could just… sit here and close her eyes and simply find the same quiet being near his home. Zeus only knew she wasn’t going to find it back at the Leventi manors. Altair cropped grass nearby seeming rather content.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the tree and took a deep, cleansing breath of the wet breezy air. Comfort eased over her as her body relaxed into the tree and before long she was taking long deep breaths of a person who slept deeply. It could have been five minutes or fifty minutes but the wind picked up more speed gusting blowing leaves about. A crack of lightning flashed through the air and the sound of a whinny and clip-clop of hooves before silence again. Curling into the alcove, reality never quite seeped into her mind. Her thoughts had finally quieted and she’d found relief from the disastrous day she’d had and that was all that had mattered.
Altair wasn’t as relaxed as his rider though, the gusting winds blowing the leaves… the crack of lightning it all had unsettled him. He wasn’t used to the feelings of the weighty slow droplets of rain that sprinkled down on him. His head thrown up into the air, and his tail lifted like a gray banner, he trotted loftily down the unfamiliar drive flinging his hips from side to side in his typical peacock fashion. A bugle-like squeal erupted from him as he approached the house and seemed to make a bee line for the stable and other horses. His reins dangled and it would have been obvious to anyone that the stallion was missing an integral piece of his tack. His rider.
The wind was picking up as the weather shifted and a small coastal storm was starting to blow in. It was still warm but there was a feeling of discontent in the air as if the Gods themselves were uncertain of the future. The gray stallion beneath her tossed his head but after an entire day of chasing every hill in front of them he wasn’t of a mind to shy at something as blithe as the wind. It was the third time she’d ridden past the driveway to his manor and she didn’t even know if he was still in the city or if he’d returned to Meganea but there was a deep longing to see his face. Evangelina knew that the days going up to the wedding she was supposed to keep away, but when had she ever been conventional. Sitting there on Altair, she was tired of fighting the desire to see him. To have his arms envelop her and to simply soak up the warmth and goodness of him.
The day had been… not good. She was tired and every muscle in her body ached with an exhaustion that she wasn’t familiar with. Things that had been pent up and eating away at her over the years had been released and she felt stripped and bare and… as unsteady as a newborn colt trying to find their point of balance on wobbly legs. She should turn her horse and ride back the short distance to the Leventi manors, go home, soak in a long hot bath… listen to the rain that would inevitably come with the storm as the sun sank lower this evening, and brick by brick repair her soul on her own. She should do that, but… the comfort she wanted the most was possibly right there… Right in front of her.
Swinging her legs free she slid off the grey and led him over to a nearby tree and sat down in the alcove of the roots. The forest green of her cloak revealed a brilliant magenta chiton underneath. Her hair was sticking in every direction but that thought never crossed her mind as she settled into the spot near the end of his drive. If she had to stay away, maybe she could just… sit here and close her eyes and simply find the same quiet being near his home. Zeus only knew she wasn’t going to find it back at the Leventi manors. Altair cropped grass nearby seeming rather content.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the tree and took a deep, cleansing breath of the wet breezy air. Comfort eased over her as her body relaxed into the tree and before long she was taking long deep breaths of a person who slept deeply. It could have been five minutes or fifty minutes but the wind picked up more speed gusting blowing leaves about. A crack of lightning flashed through the air and the sound of a whinny and clip-clop of hooves before silence again. Curling into the alcove, reality never quite seeped into her mind. Her thoughts had finally quieted and she’d found relief from the disastrous day she’d had and that was all that had mattered.
Altair wasn’t as relaxed as his rider though, the gusting winds blowing the leaves… the crack of lightning it all had unsettled him. He wasn’t used to the feelings of the weighty slow droplets of rain that sprinkled down on him. His head thrown up into the air, and his tail lifted like a gray banner, he trotted loftily down the unfamiliar drive flinging his hips from side to side in his typical peacock fashion. A bugle-like squeal erupted from him as he approached the house and seemed to make a bee line for the stable and other horses. His reins dangled and it would have been obvious to anyone that the stallion was missing an integral piece of his tack. His rider.
The stable master frowned when he heard the unfamiliar whinny. He squinted towards the open stable door, unsure who could possibly be coming at this hour and in this weather. His brush stilled against the flank of his master’s horse as he leaned a little ways out. The horse coming riderless at him was Altair, Lady Evangelina’s horse. People? The Stable Master wasn’t so good with. Horses? He’d remember them forever. They were more special to him and definitely easier to understand. That was made all the more abundant because, of course, Altair looked like he’d been recently let go of.
Moving out of the stall, the stable master fastened the door into place so that the blood mare wouldn’t escape, and made himself visible to the frightened horse. He approached Altair calmly and with the experience of decades at his back. After a few seconds, he had the horse in hand and was muttering calmly, watching Altair’s ears to make sure the horse was listening. As much as he liked horses and understood them better, it did not bode well that Altair’s rider was nowhere to be seen. Best case would have been to see her running up, cursing the brute and looking scuffed but alright. It frightened him that she was nowhere to be seen.
”Where is your lady?” he asked Altair as he quickly saw to the more necessary and basic of the horse’s needs but that was all. He tucked Altair into the closest available stall and stepped out in time to have a huge, wet, fat raindrop plop straight into his eye. The stable master grunted and bent over, rubbing his eye hard. Across the yard, he heard someone calling him and he straightened up to find the housekeeper flagging him down.
”Who’s here?” she called, just as confused as he by the person’s presence.
”Lady Evangelina’s horse,” he glanced towards the gate. ”Best tell His Lordship. Her Ladyship isn’t here, far as I know.”
And so the information filtered through the house in the form of the housekeeper, who approached Gavriil’s study. He’d come back to Vasiliadon because it turned out that his baron was in the city, not in Oettias. The meeting was a tense one and Gavriil was gruffer than usual in his response to the housekeeper sticking her long nose around the door. “What is it?” he demanded, standing with his palms pressed to the desk’s top, the baron sitting across from him every bit as unhappy.
”Pardon me, my lord, but Lady Evangelina’s horse is in the barn and...she is nowhere to be seen.”
His brows descended into a deep frown and his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” It made literally no sense that her horse would arrive riderless. It wasn’t as if horses took themselves out of barns, dressed themselves up in their own tack, and then pranced about Vasiliadon for joy visits to other barns. His housekeeper explained as best she could but the details at hand were limited at best. The baron he’d been speaking to gathered up his papers into a leather bag and sighed unhappily. The meeting was at an end and even though the resolution had been made before the meeting began, neither party were happy about it in any case.
Gavriil walked with the baron through the house, his mind now wholly on Evangelina and the mystery of her whereabouts. None of this sat well with him and he followed the baron out to the barn as the man went to gather his own horse in order to leave. Under normal circumstances, Gavriil would have insisted the man stay in order to wait out the storm but today, he extended no such hospitality. He wanted the man gone and out of his way. After briefly looking at Altair, Gavriil took out his mare and rode her bareback, following after the young lord who was leaving through the gates.
With the wind rising into howling gusts and rain unleashing itself in a torrential downpour, it was easy to miss Evie where she was beneath the half protection of the tree. And while the young lord rode past, eager to get back to where he was staying, Gavriil did not miss her. He pulled his mare to a halt and slid off her back. Like the traitor she was, his mare tore back to the stables without her rider but Gavriil didn’t notice. He advanced on Evie. Usually he was calm and quiet within himself but ever since she’d entered his life, more often than not his thoughts and emotions were tangled and constantly slipping and sliding over each other.
“Evangelina,” he didn’t give her much time to protest. As soon as he figured out she wasn’t dead, he simply scooped her up into his arms and turned towards the house with her. It didn’t matter why she was at the base of a tree outside his gates for the moment. What mattered was getting her warm and getting her dry. She could tell him the rest once she wasn’t in danger of catching her death out in the elements.
He was beginning to wonder if young women were prone to wandering about the countryside in the rain. First Persephone, now Evie. If Dorothea started up with this then he’d have to have a word with everyone. He couldn’t go scampering about the countryside to make sure these women were properly dry and at home all the time.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The stable master frowned when he heard the unfamiliar whinny. He squinted towards the open stable door, unsure who could possibly be coming at this hour and in this weather. His brush stilled against the flank of his master’s horse as he leaned a little ways out. The horse coming riderless at him was Altair, Lady Evangelina’s horse. People? The Stable Master wasn’t so good with. Horses? He’d remember them forever. They were more special to him and definitely easier to understand. That was made all the more abundant because, of course, Altair looked like he’d been recently let go of.
Moving out of the stall, the stable master fastened the door into place so that the blood mare wouldn’t escape, and made himself visible to the frightened horse. He approached Altair calmly and with the experience of decades at his back. After a few seconds, he had the horse in hand and was muttering calmly, watching Altair’s ears to make sure the horse was listening. As much as he liked horses and understood them better, it did not bode well that Altair’s rider was nowhere to be seen. Best case would have been to see her running up, cursing the brute and looking scuffed but alright. It frightened him that she was nowhere to be seen.
”Where is your lady?” he asked Altair as he quickly saw to the more necessary and basic of the horse’s needs but that was all. He tucked Altair into the closest available stall and stepped out in time to have a huge, wet, fat raindrop plop straight into his eye. The stable master grunted and bent over, rubbing his eye hard. Across the yard, he heard someone calling him and he straightened up to find the housekeeper flagging him down.
”Who’s here?” she called, just as confused as he by the person’s presence.
”Lady Evangelina’s horse,” he glanced towards the gate. ”Best tell His Lordship. Her Ladyship isn’t here, far as I know.”
And so the information filtered through the house in the form of the housekeeper, who approached Gavriil’s study. He’d come back to Vasiliadon because it turned out that his baron was in the city, not in Oettias. The meeting was a tense one and Gavriil was gruffer than usual in his response to the housekeeper sticking her long nose around the door. “What is it?” he demanded, standing with his palms pressed to the desk’s top, the baron sitting across from him every bit as unhappy.
”Pardon me, my lord, but Lady Evangelina’s horse is in the barn and...she is nowhere to be seen.”
His brows descended into a deep frown and his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” It made literally no sense that her horse would arrive riderless. It wasn’t as if horses took themselves out of barns, dressed themselves up in their own tack, and then pranced about Vasiliadon for joy visits to other barns. His housekeeper explained as best she could but the details at hand were limited at best. The baron he’d been speaking to gathered up his papers into a leather bag and sighed unhappily. The meeting was at an end and even though the resolution had been made before the meeting began, neither party were happy about it in any case.
Gavriil walked with the baron through the house, his mind now wholly on Evangelina and the mystery of her whereabouts. None of this sat well with him and he followed the baron out to the barn as the man went to gather his own horse in order to leave. Under normal circumstances, Gavriil would have insisted the man stay in order to wait out the storm but today, he extended no such hospitality. He wanted the man gone and out of his way. After briefly looking at Altair, Gavriil took out his mare and rode her bareback, following after the young lord who was leaving through the gates.
With the wind rising into howling gusts and rain unleashing itself in a torrential downpour, it was easy to miss Evie where she was beneath the half protection of the tree. And while the young lord rode past, eager to get back to where he was staying, Gavriil did not miss her. He pulled his mare to a halt and slid off her back. Like the traitor she was, his mare tore back to the stables without her rider but Gavriil didn’t notice. He advanced on Evie. Usually he was calm and quiet within himself but ever since she’d entered his life, more often than not his thoughts and emotions were tangled and constantly slipping and sliding over each other.
“Evangelina,” he didn’t give her much time to protest. As soon as he figured out she wasn’t dead, he simply scooped her up into his arms and turned towards the house with her. It didn’t matter why she was at the base of a tree outside his gates for the moment. What mattered was getting her warm and getting her dry. She could tell him the rest once she wasn’t in danger of catching her death out in the elements.
He was beginning to wonder if young women were prone to wandering about the countryside in the rain. First Persephone, now Evie. If Dorothea started up with this then he’d have to have a word with everyone. He couldn’t go scampering about the countryside to make sure these women were properly dry and at home all the time.
The stable master frowned when he heard the unfamiliar whinny. He squinted towards the open stable door, unsure who could possibly be coming at this hour and in this weather. His brush stilled against the flank of his master’s horse as he leaned a little ways out. The horse coming riderless at him was Altair, Lady Evangelina’s horse. People? The Stable Master wasn’t so good with. Horses? He’d remember them forever. They were more special to him and definitely easier to understand. That was made all the more abundant because, of course, Altair looked like he’d been recently let go of.
Moving out of the stall, the stable master fastened the door into place so that the blood mare wouldn’t escape, and made himself visible to the frightened horse. He approached Altair calmly and with the experience of decades at his back. After a few seconds, he had the horse in hand and was muttering calmly, watching Altair’s ears to make sure the horse was listening. As much as he liked horses and understood them better, it did not bode well that Altair’s rider was nowhere to be seen. Best case would have been to see her running up, cursing the brute and looking scuffed but alright. It frightened him that she was nowhere to be seen.
”Where is your lady?” he asked Altair as he quickly saw to the more necessary and basic of the horse’s needs but that was all. He tucked Altair into the closest available stall and stepped out in time to have a huge, wet, fat raindrop plop straight into his eye. The stable master grunted and bent over, rubbing his eye hard. Across the yard, he heard someone calling him and he straightened up to find the housekeeper flagging him down.
”Who’s here?” she called, just as confused as he by the person’s presence.
”Lady Evangelina’s horse,” he glanced towards the gate. ”Best tell His Lordship. Her Ladyship isn’t here, far as I know.”
And so the information filtered through the house in the form of the housekeeper, who approached Gavriil’s study. He’d come back to Vasiliadon because it turned out that his baron was in the city, not in Oettias. The meeting was a tense one and Gavriil was gruffer than usual in his response to the housekeeper sticking her long nose around the door. “What is it?” he demanded, standing with his palms pressed to the desk’s top, the baron sitting across from him every bit as unhappy.
”Pardon me, my lord, but Lady Evangelina’s horse is in the barn and...she is nowhere to be seen.”
His brows descended into a deep frown and his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” It made literally no sense that her horse would arrive riderless. It wasn’t as if horses took themselves out of barns, dressed themselves up in their own tack, and then pranced about Vasiliadon for joy visits to other barns. His housekeeper explained as best she could but the details at hand were limited at best. The baron he’d been speaking to gathered up his papers into a leather bag and sighed unhappily. The meeting was at an end and even though the resolution had been made before the meeting began, neither party were happy about it in any case.
Gavriil walked with the baron through the house, his mind now wholly on Evangelina and the mystery of her whereabouts. None of this sat well with him and he followed the baron out to the barn as the man went to gather his own horse in order to leave. Under normal circumstances, Gavriil would have insisted the man stay in order to wait out the storm but today, he extended no such hospitality. He wanted the man gone and out of his way. After briefly looking at Altair, Gavriil took out his mare and rode her bareback, following after the young lord who was leaving through the gates.
With the wind rising into howling gusts and rain unleashing itself in a torrential downpour, it was easy to miss Evie where she was beneath the half protection of the tree. And while the young lord rode past, eager to get back to where he was staying, Gavriil did not miss her. He pulled his mare to a halt and slid off her back. Like the traitor she was, his mare tore back to the stables without her rider but Gavriil didn’t notice. He advanced on Evie. Usually he was calm and quiet within himself but ever since she’d entered his life, more often than not his thoughts and emotions were tangled and constantly slipping and sliding over each other.
“Evangelina,” he didn’t give her much time to protest. As soon as he figured out she wasn’t dead, he simply scooped her up into his arms and turned towards the house with her. It didn’t matter why she was at the base of a tree outside his gates for the moment. What mattered was getting her warm and getting her dry. She could tell him the rest once she wasn’t in danger of catching her death out in the elements.
He was beginning to wonder if young women were prone to wandering about the countryside in the rain. First Persephone, now Evie. If Dorothea started up with this then he’d have to have a word with everyone. He couldn’t go scampering about the countryside to make sure these women were properly dry and at home all the time.
Her name echoed through her dreamless sleep, the deep alcove of the tree wrapped arms around her lifting her upwards and stirring the softest of hums out of her as she nestled deeper into the protection. The smells of the forest, horses, and leather twisted together until she couldn’t tell if it was her or the body she was pressed against. Her cheek pressed into the softness of the chest finding not bark but fabric. The tree wasn’t swaying, it was walking, but trees didn’t walk.
Wind seemed to swirl around them and fat droplets of rain pelted, the cold wetness a shock to her face and causing her to open her eyes. Her chest expanded, it wasn’t a dream, but how had he known she was there? Her fingers flexed digging in gently as she tightened her grip onto him. It took but a moment for her to remember why she was there and what had driven her so quickly to him. Pressing her face into his chest, she closed her eyes, “Altair.” It was the single word of her horse’s name. Was he out there in this weather? She needed to find him and make sure he was taken care of, except the weight of so many truths and realizations had numbed the sense out of her.
“I’m okay.” Her voice rasped and her chin dipped a little, “I need to find Altair. He doesn’t like the rain.” With each sentence her voice seemed to grow a little stronger but still she didn’t fight the feeling of being carried. How could she? It seemed when she was with him, this was when she felt the safest. There was something oddly familiar about him, like she was coming home again and again every time she was around him. Pressing her face against the warmth of his body, she took another deep breath and closed her eyes. It was so easy where he was concerned, like breathing. It was such a natural and unexpected feeling. He was like sunlight streaming in through a morning window after a good sleep, warming every inch of you that it touched. So much so that even in the pelting, cold rain and wind… she could forget all of those things and simply sink into the feeling of his body.
Oh, you are such a little fool. Her fingers flexed into the fabric of his chest again and a small moan escaped.
Inside the house, it registered that he’d called for a bath and some dry clothes. Instead of arguing, she quietly just pressed her face against him a little more. It didn’t take long for a bath to be prepared near the hearth in his room and her to find herself being undressed and deposited into the warm bath like a child. Her wet hair had plastered to her face and neck and a shiver shook her small body as the difference in the temperature of her body and the temperature of the water collided. Her eyes widened and a gasp of sudden awareness woke her up.
The world suddenly seemed less fuzzy, but before Gavriil could make a quick retreat she caught his arm and stopped him, “Please.” Something akin to pleading drove her forward, “Don’t leave me.” There was a stool near the hearth he could sit on if he stayed, but she wouldn’t force him. Blinking, at him she was utterly exposed and feeling as vulnerable as a girl could get in that moment. “Is Altair fine?” Guilt for not having watched him better and for having fallen victim to sleep in the folds of the tree ate at her conscious. She swallowed, looking up at him, her dark eyes seeming darker as the house rattled with the odd noises of the storm picking up outside.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Her name echoed through her dreamless sleep, the deep alcove of the tree wrapped arms around her lifting her upwards and stirring the softest of hums out of her as she nestled deeper into the protection. The smells of the forest, horses, and leather twisted together until she couldn’t tell if it was her or the body she was pressed against. Her cheek pressed into the softness of the chest finding not bark but fabric. The tree wasn’t swaying, it was walking, but trees didn’t walk.
Wind seemed to swirl around them and fat droplets of rain pelted, the cold wetness a shock to her face and causing her to open her eyes. Her chest expanded, it wasn’t a dream, but how had he known she was there? Her fingers flexed digging in gently as she tightened her grip onto him. It took but a moment for her to remember why she was there and what had driven her so quickly to him. Pressing her face into his chest, she closed her eyes, “Altair.” It was the single word of her horse’s name. Was he out there in this weather? She needed to find him and make sure he was taken care of, except the weight of so many truths and realizations had numbed the sense out of her.
“I’m okay.” Her voice rasped and her chin dipped a little, “I need to find Altair. He doesn’t like the rain.” With each sentence her voice seemed to grow a little stronger but still she didn’t fight the feeling of being carried. How could she? It seemed when she was with him, this was when she felt the safest. There was something oddly familiar about him, like she was coming home again and again every time she was around him. Pressing her face against the warmth of his body, she took another deep breath and closed her eyes. It was so easy where he was concerned, like breathing. It was such a natural and unexpected feeling. He was like sunlight streaming in through a morning window after a good sleep, warming every inch of you that it touched. So much so that even in the pelting, cold rain and wind… she could forget all of those things and simply sink into the feeling of his body.
Oh, you are such a little fool. Her fingers flexed into the fabric of his chest again and a small moan escaped.
Inside the house, it registered that he’d called for a bath and some dry clothes. Instead of arguing, she quietly just pressed her face against him a little more. It didn’t take long for a bath to be prepared near the hearth in his room and her to find herself being undressed and deposited into the warm bath like a child. Her wet hair had plastered to her face and neck and a shiver shook her small body as the difference in the temperature of her body and the temperature of the water collided. Her eyes widened and a gasp of sudden awareness woke her up.
The world suddenly seemed less fuzzy, but before Gavriil could make a quick retreat she caught his arm and stopped him, “Please.” Something akin to pleading drove her forward, “Don’t leave me.” There was a stool near the hearth he could sit on if he stayed, but she wouldn’t force him. Blinking, at him she was utterly exposed and feeling as vulnerable as a girl could get in that moment. “Is Altair fine?” Guilt for not having watched him better and for having fallen victim to sleep in the folds of the tree ate at her conscious. She swallowed, looking up at him, her dark eyes seeming darker as the house rattled with the odd noises of the storm picking up outside.
Her name echoed through her dreamless sleep, the deep alcove of the tree wrapped arms around her lifting her upwards and stirring the softest of hums out of her as she nestled deeper into the protection. The smells of the forest, horses, and leather twisted together until she couldn’t tell if it was her or the body she was pressed against. Her cheek pressed into the softness of the chest finding not bark but fabric. The tree wasn’t swaying, it was walking, but trees didn’t walk.
Wind seemed to swirl around them and fat droplets of rain pelted, the cold wetness a shock to her face and causing her to open her eyes. Her chest expanded, it wasn’t a dream, but how had he known she was there? Her fingers flexed digging in gently as she tightened her grip onto him. It took but a moment for her to remember why she was there and what had driven her so quickly to him. Pressing her face into his chest, she closed her eyes, “Altair.” It was the single word of her horse’s name. Was he out there in this weather? She needed to find him and make sure he was taken care of, except the weight of so many truths and realizations had numbed the sense out of her.
“I’m okay.” Her voice rasped and her chin dipped a little, “I need to find Altair. He doesn’t like the rain.” With each sentence her voice seemed to grow a little stronger but still she didn’t fight the feeling of being carried. How could she? It seemed when she was with him, this was when she felt the safest. There was something oddly familiar about him, like she was coming home again and again every time she was around him. Pressing her face against the warmth of his body, she took another deep breath and closed her eyes. It was so easy where he was concerned, like breathing. It was such a natural and unexpected feeling. He was like sunlight streaming in through a morning window after a good sleep, warming every inch of you that it touched. So much so that even in the pelting, cold rain and wind… she could forget all of those things and simply sink into the feeling of his body.
Oh, you are such a little fool. Her fingers flexed into the fabric of his chest again and a small moan escaped.
Inside the house, it registered that he’d called for a bath and some dry clothes. Instead of arguing, she quietly just pressed her face against him a little more. It didn’t take long for a bath to be prepared near the hearth in his room and her to find herself being undressed and deposited into the warm bath like a child. Her wet hair had plastered to her face and neck and a shiver shook her small body as the difference in the temperature of her body and the temperature of the water collided. Her eyes widened and a gasp of sudden awareness woke her up.
The world suddenly seemed less fuzzy, but before Gavriil could make a quick retreat she caught his arm and stopped him, “Please.” Something akin to pleading drove her forward, “Don’t leave me.” There was a stool near the hearth he could sit on if he stayed, but she wouldn’t force him. Blinking, at him she was utterly exposed and feeling as vulnerable as a girl could get in that moment. “Is Altair fine?” Guilt for not having watched him better and for having fallen victim to sleep in the folds of the tree ate at her conscious. She swallowed, looking up at him, her dark eyes seeming darker as the house rattled with the odd noises of the storm picking up outside.
Her initial lack of reaction concerned him more than finding her at the base of a tree in the first place. Evangelina was usually so full of life, like a bolt of lightning or a breezy summer wind. To have her curling against his chest, subdued and quiet, made him wonder if she’d taken a horrendous fall. From this angle he could not see the finger shaped bruises on her wrists and elsewhere. She pressed her face against his chest, murmuring the name of her horse. Gavriil rumbled two words as he brought her through the rain and into the house - “He’s fine.” What comfort that would be, who was to say? But she didn’t seem to be listening much in any case. He was wrong on that front. Her next assertion that she was fine was undercut by the scratch in her voice and the odd way she kept holding her head, as though she had little control. “He’s in the stables, I believe,” Gavriil reached the front step by that point and carried her over the threshold through the open door.
Servants darted ahead of them and trailed behind them. The ones moving ahead, doing his bidding. Build up the fire, prepare a bath, prepare food, should she need it. Gather dry clothes, get towels, set up a bedroom for her. She was, in short, not returning home tonight. Not in this weather, and definitely not in this state. He’d reserve judgement on whether the physician might need to be called. Her behavior was just so odd that it was hard to know if it was illness, something as simple as being dazed, or something more serious.
The servants behind them shut the door and set about mopping away the wet tracks from his own sandals that glistened on the floor as he advanced through the house. They mopped up the drips and drops that slipped from her feet and the trailing ends of her dress. Bits of grass and twig and leaf filtered here and there, having landed on her while she sat beneath the tree. All of it was erased as Gavriil moved, as though there was never any problem at all.
The bath did not take long but he was not the one to undress her or to put her into it. Two maids helped her do that. He was in the room, though, watching her face, his brows drawn together, thumb and forefinger against his lips. If the water did nothing for her, the physician was most definitely being summoned. It took quite a bit to disquiet him but she’d managed it. To him, she should have reacted more by now. It was as though she was in some sort of trance.
He moved towards the door but stopped first at the sudden splash and then looked down as his arm was caught by her wet grip. His eyes went to the floor where water shone like molten light and then to her face. The unease grew. The pleading in her eyes was so unlike anything he’d seen...except no, he had seen it before. She had the same look when she’d spoken about feeling trapped by her family and he wondered for a fraction of a second if something connected to Fotios had happened.
Her gaze had dropped for a moment to a stool that hadn’t been there before, he was sure. But it was here now and both servant girls were gone. They’d somehow disappeared without his noticing and had left clothes and a towel for Evangelina. He guessed one of them was responsible for ghosting the stool in here. Without confirming he would stay, he looked behind him, drew the stool up beside the tub, and leaned his arm on the side. Again she asked about her horse.
“He’s in better shape than you,” Gavriil looked her over, noting again the bruises. Eyes narrowing, he moved his arm out of her grasp and took her wrist between two fingers, gently but firmly turning her arm to examine it. “What’s happened?” And here, he hoped, rather than believed, she would say that she’d fallen. These weren’t the kinds of marks that happened from taking a tumble and they both knew it. Thunder exploded outside at nearly the same moment lightning flashed, casting him in alternating stark white and deepest shadows for a few seconds. Gavriil’s eyes remained on her, though the windows rattled.
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Her initial lack of reaction concerned him more than finding her at the base of a tree in the first place. Evangelina was usually so full of life, like a bolt of lightning or a breezy summer wind. To have her curling against his chest, subdued and quiet, made him wonder if she’d taken a horrendous fall. From this angle he could not see the finger shaped bruises on her wrists and elsewhere. She pressed her face against his chest, murmuring the name of her horse. Gavriil rumbled two words as he brought her through the rain and into the house - “He’s fine.” What comfort that would be, who was to say? But she didn’t seem to be listening much in any case. He was wrong on that front. Her next assertion that she was fine was undercut by the scratch in her voice and the odd way she kept holding her head, as though she had little control. “He’s in the stables, I believe,” Gavriil reached the front step by that point and carried her over the threshold through the open door.
Servants darted ahead of them and trailed behind them. The ones moving ahead, doing his bidding. Build up the fire, prepare a bath, prepare food, should she need it. Gather dry clothes, get towels, set up a bedroom for her. She was, in short, not returning home tonight. Not in this weather, and definitely not in this state. He’d reserve judgement on whether the physician might need to be called. Her behavior was just so odd that it was hard to know if it was illness, something as simple as being dazed, or something more serious.
The servants behind them shut the door and set about mopping away the wet tracks from his own sandals that glistened on the floor as he advanced through the house. They mopped up the drips and drops that slipped from her feet and the trailing ends of her dress. Bits of grass and twig and leaf filtered here and there, having landed on her while she sat beneath the tree. All of it was erased as Gavriil moved, as though there was never any problem at all.
The bath did not take long but he was not the one to undress her or to put her into it. Two maids helped her do that. He was in the room, though, watching her face, his brows drawn together, thumb and forefinger against his lips. If the water did nothing for her, the physician was most definitely being summoned. It took quite a bit to disquiet him but she’d managed it. To him, she should have reacted more by now. It was as though she was in some sort of trance.
He moved towards the door but stopped first at the sudden splash and then looked down as his arm was caught by her wet grip. His eyes went to the floor where water shone like molten light and then to her face. The unease grew. The pleading in her eyes was so unlike anything he’d seen...except no, he had seen it before. She had the same look when she’d spoken about feeling trapped by her family and he wondered for a fraction of a second if something connected to Fotios had happened.
Her gaze had dropped for a moment to a stool that hadn’t been there before, he was sure. But it was here now and both servant girls were gone. They’d somehow disappeared without his noticing and had left clothes and a towel for Evangelina. He guessed one of them was responsible for ghosting the stool in here. Without confirming he would stay, he looked behind him, drew the stool up beside the tub, and leaned his arm on the side. Again she asked about her horse.
“He’s in better shape than you,” Gavriil looked her over, noting again the bruises. Eyes narrowing, he moved his arm out of her grasp and took her wrist between two fingers, gently but firmly turning her arm to examine it. “What’s happened?” And here, he hoped, rather than believed, she would say that she’d fallen. These weren’t the kinds of marks that happened from taking a tumble and they both knew it. Thunder exploded outside at nearly the same moment lightning flashed, casting him in alternating stark white and deepest shadows for a few seconds. Gavriil’s eyes remained on her, though the windows rattled.
Her initial lack of reaction concerned him more than finding her at the base of a tree in the first place. Evangelina was usually so full of life, like a bolt of lightning or a breezy summer wind. To have her curling against his chest, subdued and quiet, made him wonder if she’d taken a horrendous fall. From this angle he could not see the finger shaped bruises on her wrists and elsewhere. She pressed her face against his chest, murmuring the name of her horse. Gavriil rumbled two words as he brought her through the rain and into the house - “He’s fine.” What comfort that would be, who was to say? But she didn’t seem to be listening much in any case. He was wrong on that front. Her next assertion that she was fine was undercut by the scratch in her voice and the odd way she kept holding her head, as though she had little control. “He’s in the stables, I believe,” Gavriil reached the front step by that point and carried her over the threshold through the open door.
Servants darted ahead of them and trailed behind them. The ones moving ahead, doing his bidding. Build up the fire, prepare a bath, prepare food, should she need it. Gather dry clothes, get towels, set up a bedroom for her. She was, in short, not returning home tonight. Not in this weather, and definitely not in this state. He’d reserve judgement on whether the physician might need to be called. Her behavior was just so odd that it was hard to know if it was illness, something as simple as being dazed, or something more serious.
The servants behind them shut the door and set about mopping away the wet tracks from his own sandals that glistened on the floor as he advanced through the house. They mopped up the drips and drops that slipped from her feet and the trailing ends of her dress. Bits of grass and twig and leaf filtered here and there, having landed on her while she sat beneath the tree. All of it was erased as Gavriil moved, as though there was never any problem at all.
The bath did not take long but he was not the one to undress her or to put her into it. Two maids helped her do that. He was in the room, though, watching her face, his brows drawn together, thumb and forefinger against his lips. If the water did nothing for her, the physician was most definitely being summoned. It took quite a bit to disquiet him but she’d managed it. To him, she should have reacted more by now. It was as though she was in some sort of trance.
He moved towards the door but stopped first at the sudden splash and then looked down as his arm was caught by her wet grip. His eyes went to the floor where water shone like molten light and then to her face. The unease grew. The pleading in her eyes was so unlike anything he’d seen...except no, he had seen it before. She had the same look when she’d spoken about feeling trapped by her family and he wondered for a fraction of a second if something connected to Fotios had happened.
Her gaze had dropped for a moment to a stool that hadn’t been there before, he was sure. But it was here now and both servant girls were gone. They’d somehow disappeared without his noticing and had left clothes and a towel for Evangelina. He guessed one of them was responsible for ghosting the stool in here. Without confirming he would stay, he looked behind him, drew the stool up beside the tub, and leaned his arm on the side. Again she asked about her horse.
“He’s in better shape than you,” Gavriil looked her over, noting again the bruises. Eyes narrowing, he moved his arm out of her grasp and took her wrist between two fingers, gently but firmly turning her arm to examine it. “What’s happened?” And here, he hoped, rather than believed, she would say that she’d fallen. These weren’t the kinds of marks that happened from taking a tumble and they both knew it. Thunder exploded outside at nearly the same moment lightning flashed, casting him in alternating stark white and deepest shadows for a few seconds. Gavriil’s eyes remained on her, though the windows rattled.
Outside, the dark and dense clouds had snuffed out the evening sunset. A bolt of lightning lit the prematurely dark room up for a few seconds and was chased with a rumble of thunder. The shadows of the room enfolded her in their darkness and she felt almost instantaneously at ease. ‘He’s in better shape than you.’ The gravelly voice of Gavriil sent a shiver through her, the room wasn’t entirely dark so looking up at him she could see the worried way he was looking down at her.
His eyes narrowed though and she felt herself slipping a little deeper into the water. The instant he touched her wrists, she knew what he’d seen. The urge to tug at sleeves that weren’t there hit her hard and fast. How easy it would have been to take a deep breath and submerge herself into the water. ‘What’s happened?’
Evangelina’s breath caught in her throat and her lips gently parted as she stared up at him for a long moment trying to find the right words to explain. Blinking, she closed her mouth. Did he expect her to lie about the marks? Pressing her lips together tightly, she bowed her head and studied how the water teased her breasts.
The muscles in her jaw contracted as she exhaled and lifted her gaze to him, slowly drawing back to reality as she woke up as her body warmed. Swallowing gently, she met his gaze from beneath her lashes. “The news of our engagement didn’t fill everyone with joy,” She leaned her head against the high back of the brass tub and studied him before she added quietly, “Maybe I should have told you sooner. Maybe this is one of those things I shouldn’t say… Maybe I should bury it in the past but…You don’t deserve to be blindsided by it.”
She spoke slow and cautiously, afraid to overload him with too much too quickly but continued forward.
“I loved Lord Nikos.” There it was, out in the open the raw terrible truth. Her gaze had drifted in the moments of silence but had found their way back to his face again. “I thought he loved me too.” Gavriil was smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She licked her lips, “I don’t think I need to tell you how that ended.” Sliding down a little further into the tub, letting the water hide her.
“I thought he deserved to hear about the engagement from me… not from… his father.” Tilting her head back she stared at the ceiling, “We’ve done nothing but fight and dig our claws into one another since we...Since I almost made a mistake I couldn’t take back.” She shifted uncomfortably in the tub and slipped a glance at him. “I always thought that there was something ill-fated, romantic even, in fighting for someone.” Her gaze stroked the lines of his face as she continued quietly. “About winning back their love. But sitting there telling him about our engagement, I think…, I think it finally dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing lovely about trying to continuously convince someone you were worth loving and that they’d made a mistake.”
Awareness flashed in her dark eyes before she looked away. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Licking her lips, she looked back at him and reached up to touch his cheek, “If for no other reason, I thank you deeply for saving me, Gavriil.”
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Outside, the dark and dense clouds had snuffed out the evening sunset. A bolt of lightning lit the prematurely dark room up for a few seconds and was chased with a rumble of thunder. The shadows of the room enfolded her in their darkness and she felt almost instantaneously at ease. ‘He’s in better shape than you.’ The gravelly voice of Gavriil sent a shiver through her, the room wasn’t entirely dark so looking up at him she could see the worried way he was looking down at her.
His eyes narrowed though and she felt herself slipping a little deeper into the water. The instant he touched her wrists, she knew what he’d seen. The urge to tug at sleeves that weren’t there hit her hard and fast. How easy it would have been to take a deep breath and submerge herself into the water. ‘What’s happened?’
Evangelina’s breath caught in her throat and her lips gently parted as she stared up at him for a long moment trying to find the right words to explain. Blinking, she closed her mouth. Did he expect her to lie about the marks? Pressing her lips together tightly, she bowed her head and studied how the water teased her breasts.
The muscles in her jaw contracted as she exhaled and lifted her gaze to him, slowly drawing back to reality as she woke up as her body warmed. Swallowing gently, she met his gaze from beneath her lashes. “The news of our engagement didn’t fill everyone with joy,” She leaned her head against the high back of the brass tub and studied him before she added quietly, “Maybe I should have told you sooner. Maybe this is one of those things I shouldn’t say… Maybe I should bury it in the past but…You don’t deserve to be blindsided by it.”
She spoke slow and cautiously, afraid to overload him with too much too quickly but continued forward.
“I loved Lord Nikos.” There it was, out in the open the raw terrible truth. Her gaze had drifted in the moments of silence but had found their way back to his face again. “I thought he loved me too.” Gavriil was smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She licked her lips, “I don’t think I need to tell you how that ended.” Sliding down a little further into the tub, letting the water hide her.
“I thought he deserved to hear about the engagement from me… not from… his father.” Tilting her head back she stared at the ceiling, “We’ve done nothing but fight and dig our claws into one another since we...Since I almost made a mistake I couldn’t take back.” She shifted uncomfortably in the tub and slipped a glance at him. “I always thought that there was something ill-fated, romantic even, in fighting for someone.” Her gaze stroked the lines of his face as she continued quietly. “About winning back their love. But sitting there telling him about our engagement, I think…, I think it finally dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing lovely about trying to continuously convince someone you were worth loving and that they’d made a mistake.”
Awareness flashed in her dark eyes before she looked away. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Licking her lips, she looked back at him and reached up to touch his cheek, “If for no other reason, I thank you deeply for saving me, Gavriil.”
Outside, the dark and dense clouds had snuffed out the evening sunset. A bolt of lightning lit the prematurely dark room up for a few seconds and was chased with a rumble of thunder. The shadows of the room enfolded her in their darkness and she felt almost instantaneously at ease. ‘He’s in better shape than you.’ The gravelly voice of Gavriil sent a shiver through her, the room wasn’t entirely dark so looking up at him she could see the worried way he was looking down at her.
His eyes narrowed though and she felt herself slipping a little deeper into the water. The instant he touched her wrists, she knew what he’d seen. The urge to tug at sleeves that weren’t there hit her hard and fast. How easy it would have been to take a deep breath and submerge herself into the water. ‘What’s happened?’
Evangelina’s breath caught in her throat and her lips gently parted as she stared up at him for a long moment trying to find the right words to explain. Blinking, she closed her mouth. Did he expect her to lie about the marks? Pressing her lips together tightly, she bowed her head and studied how the water teased her breasts.
The muscles in her jaw contracted as she exhaled and lifted her gaze to him, slowly drawing back to reality as she woke up as her body warmed. Swallowing gently, she met his gaze from beneath her lashes. “The news of our engagement didn’t fill everyone with joy,” She leaned her head against the high back of the brass tub and studied him before she added quietly, “Maybe I should have told you sooner. Maybe this is one of those things I shouldn’t say… Maybe I should bury it in the past but…You don’t deserve to be blindsided by it.”
She spoke slow and cautiously, afraid to overload him with too much too quickly but continued forward.
“I loved Lord Nikos.” There it was, out in the open the raw terrible truth. Her gaze had drifted in the moments of silence but had found their way back to his face again. “I thought he loved me too.” Gavriil was smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She licked her lips, “I don’t think I need to tell you how that ended.” Sliding down a little further into the tub, letting the water hide her.
“I thought he deserved to hear about the engagement from me… not from… his father.” Tilting her head back she stared at the ceiling, “We’ve done nothing but fight and dig our claws into one another since we...Since I almost made a mistake I couldn’t take back.” She shifted uncomfortably in the tub and slipped a glance at him. “I always thought that there was something ill-fated, romantic even, in fighting for someone.” Her gaze stroked the lines of his face as she continued quietly. “About winning back their love. But sitting there telling him about our engagement, I think…, I think it finally dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing lovely about trying to continuously convince someone you were worth loving and that they’d made a mistake.”
Awareness flashed in her dark eyes before she looked away. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Licking her lips, she looked back at him and reached up to touch his cheek, “If for no other reason, I thank you deeply for saving me, Gavriil.”
He did not shift on the stool, but he did lean forward a little. His fingers interlocked loosely together and he frowned. Why did she need to bend her head as though she was ashamed? Marks like that meant that she was the one who should be angry. He could not fathom who might even be capable in her life of leaving marks like those. Fotios was the obvious answer, if there was one, but he’d never seen the man lose control like that. Couldn’t imagine it, in fact. There was nothing that he could think of that would make her uncle lose his temper like that on her. So if not Fotios, then who? Konstanos? He dismissed that immediately. Had she been set upon, then? But if so, then why the same?
He did not interrupt her. He waited. They might have been in the tranquility of his forests in Maganea. He was as still as though he was sitting between the roots of a massive tree, bow and arrow pointed down, poised to be raised to shoot whichever animal crossed his path. His gaze was just as sharp and unvarying. There was no need to rush her and he was unendingly patient in these situations. She would tell him.
Rain slanted against the windows, wet and loud. Water lapped at the edges of the bath. A log split and fell sending up a spray of glittering sparks. Beyond the door, the drone of hushed, unintelligible voices droned. One of them sounded like his brother had come home but Dorotheos would not interrupt them. At long last, Gavriil’s eyes did drift to the door while Evangelina considered her words. His attention never wavered from her and he was aware of every shifting movement she made. But like a cat, he did not always betray where his interest truly lay.
It was her exhale that drew his eye back to her as she finally lifted her eyes, but not her head, to meet his. “The news of our engagement didn’t fill everyone with joy,” she began and now she really did catch him off guard. His eyes narrowed further and he sat back a little. Who on this planet would react in such a way to news of her getting married? “Maybe I should have told you sooner. Maybe this is one of those things I shouldn’t say… Maybe I should bury it in the past but…You don’t deserve to be blindsided by it.”
A quicker, more sardonic tongue might have said ‘too late’ but Gavriil merely thought it. He didn’t have to say it in any case. The sentiment was naked upon his face. She was safer now and he did not mind her knowing what he thought as much as he did when they first met. Resuming his previous posture, Gavriil leaned forward as she leaned back.
“I loved Lord Nikos.”
He blinked.
“Lord Nikos.” Flat. Disbelieving. A little judgemental. Gavriil did not advertise his dislike of the upstart lord but nothing Lord Nikos had ever done had ever either endeared him to the Dimitrou head of house, nor had Nikos ever displayed any sort of redeeming quality that Gavriil could name. Though, women looked for things that men did not and Gavriil had such a high opinion of Evangelina that he was begrudgingly willing to believe that perhaps Nikos had one piece that might be considered decent...but he was lost as to what that might be.
“I thought he loved me too.”
His gaze dropped to her wrist, just visible from here. There was no need to ask about the nature of her relationship with Nikos because he knew for a fact it hadn’t progressed very far. She had been so guileless with himself that he was perfectly prepared to believe that her love for Nikos had been one born out of naive youth. However, that did not stop him from rubbing his face with one hand. Apparently the half witted lord wasn’t satisfied with half the court. He had to try for the whole thing.
“I don’t think I need to tell you how that ended.”
He shook his head. He didn’t need or want more details than that. What he found odd was that she’d met Nikos today. It was obvious, now, where this story was going and he could imagine the circumstances but not the setting. “I thought he deserved to hear about the engagement from me… not from… his father.” Evie slid down further into the tub, her eyes lifting above him and towards the ceiling. Gavriil brought his stool closer to the tub and reached down, lifting out one of her wrists. He held it up with two fingers like he was balancing a sword and eyed the bruises in exactly the same way. Calculating.
“We’ve done nothing but fight and dig our claws into one another since we...Since I almost made a mistake I couldn’t take back,” she continued, withdrawing her arm as she shifted. Again, there was no need to check what that mistake might have been. “I always thought that there was something ill-fated, romantic even, in fighting for someone.”
A smile did ghost his mouth, then. There were songs and poems dedicated to such ideas. The push and pull of passion, alternately loving and hating the very object of that heated love. It was seductive to think about but the reality of it rarely was anything other than horrendous and violent. The smile faded again when she continued, but the judgemental edge had long since disappeared as well.
“About winning back their love. But sitting there telling him about our engagement, I think…, I think it finally dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing lovely about trying to continuously convince someone you were worth loving and that they’d made a mistake. If for no other reason, I thank you deeply for saving me, Gavriil.”
She cupped his face, then, and wet droplets dripped from her hand, splatting on his knees. He leaned into her hand, his own coming up to rest on hers, bracing her there. “He’s a fool,” he said without preamble, but without the flatness before. However, Nikos’s idiocy had never been the question. Gavriil pulled her hand away again to look at her wrists. “Tell me about this.” A shadow passed over his features, turning the bright blue of his eyes dark and deep. Nicholias might look over Nikos’s foolhardy passions as regrettable but Nikos wasn’t Gavriil’s son and he wasn’t obligated to a father’s indulgence.
While Evangelina had spoken, the rain slacked off and Gavriil found his attention shifting to the window. He listened for a few moments for thunder, watching for lightning. “I will return,” he said, cutting off whatever she’d been saying and he rose from the stool. Striding towards his wardrobe, he opened the doors and took out a seal skin cloak, the sort that would protect him from rain. From the wall, he took down his sword.
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Sept 14, 2020 18:13:34 GMT
Posted In Hope Rises on Sept 14, 2020 18:13:34 GMT
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He did not shift on the stool, but he did lean forward a little. His fingers interlocked loosely together and he frowned. Why did she need to bend her head as though she was ashamed? Marks like that meant that she was the one who should be angry. He could not fathom who might even be capable in her life of leaving marks like those. Fotios was the obvious answer, if there was one, but he’d never seen the man lose control like that. Couldn’t imagine it, in fact. There was nothing that he could think of that would make her uncle lose his temper like that on her. So if not Fotios, then who? Konstanos? He dismissed that immediately. Had she been set upon, then? But if so, then why the same?
He did not interrupt her. He waited. They might have been in the tranquility of his forests in Maganea. He was as still as though he was sitting between the roots of a massive tree, bow and arrow pointed down, poised to be raised to shoot whichever animal crossed his path. His gaze was just as sharp and unvarying. There was no need to rush her and he was unendingly patient in these situations. She would tell him.
Rain slanted against the windows, wet and loud. Water lapped at the edges of the bath. A log split and fell sending up a spray of glittering sparks. Beyond the door, the drone of hushed, unintelligible voices droned. One of them sounded like his brother had come home but Dorotheos would not interrupt them. At long last, Gavriil’s eyes did drift to the door while Evangelina considered her words. His attention never wavered from her and he was aware of every shifting movement she made. But like a cat, he did not always betray where his interest truly lay.
It was her exhale that drew his eye back to her as she finally lifted her eyes, but not her head, to meet his. “The news of our engagement didn’t fill everyone with joy,” she began and now she really did catch him off guard. His eyes narrowed further and he sat back a little. Who on this planet would react in such a way to news of her getting married? “Maybe I should have told you sooner. Maybe this is one of those things I shouldn’t say… Maybe I should bury it in the past but…You don’t deserve to be blindsided by it.”
A quicker, more sardonic tongue might have said ‘too late’ but Gavriil merely thought it. He didn’t have to say it in any case. The sentiment was naked upon his face. She was safer now and he did not mind her knowing what he thought as much as he did when they first met. Resuming his previous posture, Gavriil leaned forward as she leaned back.
“I loved Lord Nikos.”
He blinked.
“Lord Nikos.” Flat. Disbelieving. A little judgemental. Gavriil did not advertise his dislike of the upstart lord but nothing Lord Nikos had ever done had ever either endeared him to the Dimitrou head of house, nor had Nikos ever displayed any sort of redeeming quality that Gavriil could name. Though, women looked for things that men did not and Gavriil had such a high opinion of Evangelina that he was begrudgingly willing to believe that perhaps Nikos had one piece that might be considered decent...but he was lost as to what that might be.
“I thought he loved me too.”
His gaze dropped to her wrist, just visible from here. There was no need to ask about the nature of her relationship with Nikos because he knew for a fact it hadn’t progressed very far. She had been so guileless with himself that he was perfectly prepared to believe that her love for Nikos had been one born out of naive youth. However, that did not stop him from rubbing his face with one hand. Apparently the half witted lord wasn’t satisfied with half the court. He had to try for the whole thing.
“I don’t think I need to tell you how that ended.”
He shook his head. He didn’t need or want more details than that. What he found odd was that she’d met Nikos today. It was obvious, now, where this story was going and he could imagine the circumstances but not the setting. “I thought he deserved to hear about the engagement from me… not from… his father.” Evie slid down further into the tub, her eyes lifting above him and towards the ceiling. Gavriil brought his stool closer to the tub and reached down, lifting out one of her wrists. He held it up with two fingers like he was balancing a sword and eyed the bruises in exactly the same way. Calculating.
“We’ve done nothing but fight and dig our claws into one another since we...Since I almost made a mistake I couldn’t take back,” she continued, withdrawing her arm as she shifted. Again, there was no need to check what that mistake might have been. “I always thought that there was something ill-fated, romantic even, in fighting for someone.”
A smile did ghost his mouth, then. There were songs and poems dedicated to such ideas. The push and pull of passion, alternately loving and hating the very object of that heated love. It was seductive to think about but the reality of it rarely was anything other than horrendous and violent. The smile faded again when she continued, but the judgemental edge had long since disappeared as well.
“About winning back their love. But sitting there telling him about our engagement, I think…, I think it finally dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing lovely about trying to continuously convince someone you were worth loving and that they’d made a mistake. If for no other reason, I thank you deeply for saving me, Gavriil.”
She cupped his face, then, and wet droplets dripped from her hand, splatting on his knees. He leaned into her hand, his own coming up to rest on hers, bracing her there. “He’s a fool,” he said without preamble, but without the flatness before. However, Nikos’s idiocy had never been the question. Gavriil pulled her hand away again to look at her wrists. “Tell me about this.” A shadow passed over his features, turning the bright blue of his eyes dark and deep. Nicholias might look over Nikos’s foolhardy passions as regrettable but Nikos wasn’t Gavriil’s son and he wasn’t obligated to a father’s indulgence.
While Evangelina had spoken, the rain slacked off and Gavriil found his attention shifting to the window. He listened for a few moments for thunder, watching for lightning. “I will return,” he said, cutting off whatever she’d been saying and he rose from the stool. Striding towards his wardrobe, he opened the doors and took out a seal skin cloak, the sort that would protect him from rain. From the wall, he took down his sword.
He did not shift on the stool, but he did lean forward a little. His fingers interlocked loosely together and he frowned. Why did she need to bend her head as though she was ashamed? Marks like that meant that she was the one who should be angry. He could not fathom who might even be capable in her life of leaving marks like those. Fotios was the obvious answer, if there was one, but he’d never seen the man lose control like that. Couldn’t imagine it, in fact. There was nothing that he could think of that would make her uncle lose his temper like that on her. So if not Fotios, then who? Konstanos? He dismissed that immediately. Had she been set upon, then? But if so, then why the same?
He did not interrupt her. He waited. They might have been in the tranquility of his forests in Maganea. He was as still as though he was sitting between the roots of a massive tree, bow and arrow pointed down, poised to be raised to shoot whichever animal crossed his path. His gaze was just as sharp and unvarying. There was no need to rush her and he was unendingly patient in these situations. She would tell him.
Rain slanted against the windows, wet and loud. Water lapped at the edges of the bath. A log split and fell sending up a spray of glittering sparks. Beyond the door, the drone of hushed, unintelligible voices droned. One of them sounded like his brother had come home but Dorotheos would not interrupt them. At long last, Gavriil’s eyes did drift to the door while Evangelina considered her words. His attention never wavered from her and he was aware of every shifting movement she made. But like a cat, he did not always betray where his interest truly lay.
It was her exhale that drew his eye back to her as she finally lifted her eyes, but not her head, to meet his. “The news of our engagement didn’t fill everyone with joy,” she began and now she really did catch him off guard. His eyes narrowed further and he sat back a little. Who on this planet would react in such a way to news of her getting married? “Maybe I should have told you sooner. Maybe this is one of those things I shouldn’t say… Maybe I should bury it in the past but…You don’t deserve to be blindsided by it.”
A quicker, more sardonic tongue might have said ‘too late’ but Gavriil merely thought it. He didn’t have to say it in any case. The sentiment was naked upon his face. She was safer now and he did not mind her knowing what he thought as much as he did when they first met. Resuming his previous posture, Gavriil leaned forward as she leaned back.
“I loved Lord Nikos.”
He blinked.
“Lord Nikos.” Flat. Disbelieving. A little judgemental. Gavriil did not advertise his dislike of the upstart lord but nothing Lord Nikos had ever done had ever either endeared him to the Dimitrou head of house, nor had Nikos ever displayed any sort of redeeming quality that Gavriil could name. Though, women looked for things that men did not and Gavriil had such a high opinion of Evangelina that he was begrudgingly willing to believe that perhaps Nikos had one piece that might be considered decent...but he was lost as to what that might be.
“I thought he loved me too.”
His gaze dropped to her wrist, just visible from here. There was no need to ask about the nature of her relationship with Nikos because he knew for a fact it hadn’t progressed very far. She had been so guileless with himself that he was perfectly prepared to believe that her love for Nikos had been one born out of naive youth. However, that did not stop him from rubbing his face with one hand. Apparently the half witted lord wasn’t satisfied with half the court. He had to try for the whole thing.
“I don’t think I need to tell you how that ended.”
He shook his head. He didn’t need or want more details than that. What he found odd was that she’d met Nikos today. It was obvious, now, where this story was going and he could imagine the circumstances but not the setting. “I thought he deserved to hear about the engagement from me… not from… his father.” Evie slid down further into the tub, her eyes lifting above him and towards the ceiling. Gavriil brought his stool closer to the tub and reached down, lifting out one of her wrists. He held it up with two fingers like he was balancing a sword and eyed the bruises in exactly the same way. Calculating.
“We’ve done nothing but fight and dig our claws into one another since we...Since I almost made a mistake I couldn’t take back,” she continued, withdrawing her arm as she shifted. Again, there was no need to check what that mistake might have been. “I always thought that there was something ill-fated, romantic even, in fighting for someone.”
A smile did ghost his mouth, then. There were songs and poems dedicated to such ideas. The push and pull of passion, alternately loving and hating the very object of that heated love. It was seductive to think about but the reality of it rarely was anything other than horrendous and violent. The smile faded again when she continued, but the judgemental edge had long since disappeared as well.
“About winning back their love. But sitting there telling him about our engagement, I think…, I think it finally dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing lovely about trying to continuously convince someone you were worth loving and that they’d made a mistake. If for no other reason, I thank you deeply for saving me, Gavriil.”
She cupped his face, then, and wet droplets dripped from her hand, splatting on his knees. He leaned into her hand, his own coming up to rest on hers, bracing her there. “He’s a fool,” he said without preamble, but without the flatness before. However, Nikos’s idiocy had never been the question. Gavriil pulled her hand away again to look at her wrists. “Tell me about this.” A shadow passed over his features, turning the bright blue of his eyes dark and deep. Nicholias might look over Nikos’s foolhardy passions as regrettable but Nikos wasn’t Gavriil’s son and he wasn’t obligated to a father’s indulgence.
While Evangelina had spoken, the rain slacked off and Gavriil found his attention shifting to the window. He listened for a few moments for thunder, watching for lightning. “I will return,” he said, cutting off whatever she’d been saying and he rose from the stool. Striding towards his wardrobe, he opened the doors and took out a seal skin cloak, the sort that would protect him from rain. From the wall, he took down his sword.
For just a moment in time, Evangelina wondered if her honesty had finally left her a loser. Gavriil wasn’t by nature an easy read, at least not for her. He left her guessing and questioning and never giving very much away of his own thoughts let along his feelings. In that, they were quite opposite despite the fact that her family cultivated a much more crafted disposition. It was one that wasn’t a second nature to her, she wasn’t nearly as duplicitous as her cousins or aunts.
‘Lord Nikos.’
He repeated the name back to her and a bone chilling shiver ran down her spine. Was it the deadpan way he’d said the name? Or the flicker of judgement his eyes were harboring? It was cutting her to the quick. She needed to rectify this situation as quickly as possible. So she began talking. Began explaining. He needed to understand more.
Pausing as he rubbed his hand across his face, gutting her with the single movement. Her lips trembled and she stared at him. Desperation seemed to be building. Why couldn’t he understand what she was saying? What she had meant? Why couldn’t he hear the past tense in her words?
He shook his head not wanting to hear more, but not hearing enough. He gently scooped her wrist back up and examined it. She wasn’t going to stop until he understood her meaning. ‘I always thought that there was something ill-fated, romantic even, in fighting for someone.’ She’d heard the words coming out of her mouth, they were perhaps some of the truest words she’d ever spoken. Not just to him but out loud. She had thought there was some romantic notion to loving Lord Nikos, something special. She’d done it with her whole heart. And he’d broken her whole heart. Deep down not because she wasn’t enough, and not because he’d so easily climbed into the bed of others but because even after all of that… he’d shown how much he’d loved her to by not fighting for her like she would have fought for him. No, there wasn’t anything romantic or special about a love like that.
For a moment, she thought she saw an almost smile form on his lips. Wistful. Sad. Her chest contracted and her mouth opened but there was a delay before she continued, ‘About winning back their love. But sitting there telling him about our engagement, I think…, I think it finally dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing lovely about trying to continuously convince someone you were worth loving and that they’d made a mistake. If for no other reason, I thank you deeply for saving me, Gavriil.’ Desperation still held a tight grip around her throat. She wanted to say more but what if she said too much. What if she’d already said too much?
He leaned into her hand on his cheek and she instantly felt her body shift closer to him. ‘He’s a fool.’ Her breathing stopped. Tormented dark eyes focused in on him. Why did he always make her want to crawl up into his lap? What was it about him that made her want to seek shelter in his embrace and be the storm that made him shake? She was still staring at him when he pulled her hand away and turned her wrist over, ‘Tell me about this.’
Blinking, she looked away and tried to think of words. Well, words other than ‘I love you.’
“Um…” She blinked some more, “He wasn’t happy about the news and I went to leave and he pulled me off my horse and…” Her head started to throb as she leaned back into the tub again and closed her eyes. “He pulled me off the horse and I might have tried to claw his eyes out.” The pint-sized Leventi’s voice was rather deadpan about that admittance.
‘I will return.’ The sound of the stool scooting away, had her eyes bolting open and her sloshing water over the side of the tub as she jerked upright. Where was he going? He wasn’t about to leave her. They weren’t done talking about this. Even in the shadows of evening, she watched him go to his wardrobe.
“If we are being perfectly honest, the bruises are probably self-defense on his part from my…” Her mouth snapped shut. Gavriil had tuned her out, he’d made up his mind and had a plan and if she was gauging by the things he was pulling out of his wardrobe it was a very poor plan.
Getting to her feet, she stepped out of the tub and grabbed the nearby chiton. “Where are you going?” She repeated, sliding her wet body into the silk fabric and fastening clasps and tying things haphazardly. “Gavriil, I’m trying to tell you that I’m falling in love with you… will you please just…” Her words stopped as he took the sword off the wall. Well, that wasn’t a good sign. “Damn it, Gavriil! I came here to tell you I’m in love with you.”
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Sept 14, 2020 21:54:41 GMT
Posted In Hope Rises on Sept 14, 2020 21:54:41 GMT
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For just a moment in time, Evangelina wondered if her honesty had finally left her a loser. Gavriil wasn’t by nature an easy read, at least not for her. He left her guessing and questioning and never giving very much away of his own thoughts let along his feelings. In that, they were quite opposite despite the fact that her family cultivated a much more crafted disposition. It was one that wasn’t a second nature to her, she wasn’t nearly as duplicitous as her cousins or aunts.
‘Lord Nikos.’
He repeated the name back to her and a bone chilling shiver ran down her spine. Was it the deadpan way he’d said the name? Or the flicker of judgement his eyes were harboring? It was cutting her to the quick. She needed to rectify this situation as quickly as possible. So she began talking. Began explaining. He needed to understand more.
Pausing as he rubbed his hand across his face, gutting her with the single movement. Her lips trembled and she stared at him. Desperation seemed to be building. Why couldn’t he understand what she was saying? What she had meant? Why couldn’t he hear the past tense in her words?
He shook his head not wanting to hear more, but not hearing enough. He gently scooped her wrist back up and examined it. She wasn’t going to stop until he understood her meaning. ‘I always thought that there was something ill-fated, romantic even, in fighting for someone.’ She’d heard the words coming out of her mouth, they were perhaps some of the truest words she’d ever spoken. Not just to him but out loud. She had thought there was some romantic notion to loving Lord Nikos, something special. She’d done it with her whole heart. And he’d broken her whole heart. Deep down not because she wasn’t enough, and not because he’d so easily climbed into the bed of others but because even after all of that… he’d shown how much he’d loved her to by not fighting for her like she would have fought for him. No, there wasn’t anything romantic or special about a love like that.
For a moment, she thought she saw an almost smile form on his lips. Wistful. Sad. Her chest contracted and her mouth opened but there was a delay before she continued, ‘About winning back their love. But sitting there telling him about our engagement, I think…, I think it finally dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing lovely about trying to continuously convince someone you were worth loving and that they’d made a mistake. If for no other reason, I thank you deeply for saving me, Gavriil.’ Desperation still held a tight grip around her throat. She wanted to say more but what if she said too much. What if she’d already said too much?
He leaned into her hand on his cheek and she instantly felt her body shift closer to him. ‘He’s a fool.’ Her breathing stopped. Tormented dark eyes focused in on him. Why did he always make her want to crawl up into his lap? What was it about him that made her want to seek shelter in his embrace and be the storm that made him shake? She was still staring at him when he pulled her hand away and turned her wrist over, ‘Tell me about this.’
Blinking, she looked away and tried to think of words. Well, words other than ‘I love you.’
“Um…” She blinked some more, “He wasn’t happy about the news and I went to leave and he pulled me off my horse and…” Her head started to throb as she leaned back into the tub again and closed her eyes. “He pulled me off the horse and I might have tried to claw his eyes out.” The pint-sized Leventi’s voice was rather deadpan about that admittance.
‘I will return.’ The sound of the stool scooting away, had her eyes bolting open and her sloshing water over the side of the tub as she jerked upright. Where was he going? He wasn’t about to leave her. They weren’t done talking about this. Even in the shadows of evening, she watched him go to his wardrobe.
“If we are being perfectly honest, the bruises are probably self-defense on his part from my…” Her mouth snapped shut. Gavriil had tuned her out, he’d made up his mind and had a plan and if she was gauging by the things he was pulling out of his wardrobe it was a very poor plan.
Getting to her feet, she stepped out of the tub and grabbed the nearby chiton. “Where are you going?” She repeated, sliding her wet body into the silk fabric and fastening clasps and tying things haphazardly. “Gavriil, I’m trying to tell you that I’m falling in love with you… will you please just…” Her words stopped as he took the sword off the wall. Well, that wasn’t a good sign. “Damn it, Gavriil! I came here to tell you I’m in love with you.”
For just a moment in time, Evangelina wondered if her honesty had finally left her a loser. Gavriil wasn’t by nature an easy read, at least not for her. He left her guessing and questioning and never giving very much away of his own thoughts let along his feelings. In that, they were quite opposite despite the fact that her family cultivated a much more crafted disposition. It was one that wasn’t a second nature to her, she wasn’t nearly as duplicitous as her cousins or aunts.
‘Lord Nikos.’
He repeated the name back to her and a bone chilling shiver ran down her spine. Was it the deadpan way he’d said the name? Or the flicker of judgement his eyes were harboring? It was cutting her to the quick. She needed to rectify this situation as quickly as possible. So she began talking. Began explaining. He needed to understand more.
Pausing as he rubbed his hand across his face, gutting her with the single movement. Her lips trembled and she stared at him. Desperation seemed to be building. Why couldn’t he understand what she was saying? What she had meant? Why couldn’t he hear the past tense in her words?
He shook his head not wanting to hear more, but not hearing enough. He gently scooped her wrist back up and examined it. She wasn’t going to stop until he understood her meaning. ‘I always thought that there was something ill-fated, romantic even, in fighting for someone.’ She’d heard the words coming out of her mouth, they were perhaps some of the truest words she’d ever spoken. Not just to him but out loud. She had thought there was some romantic notion to loving Lord Nikos, something special. She’d done it with her whole heart. And he’d broken her whole heart. Deep down not because she wasn’t enough, and not because he’d so easily climbed into the bed of others but because even after all of that… he’d shown how much he’d loved her to by not fighting for her like she would have fought for him. No, there wasn’t anything romantic or special about a love like that.
For a moment, she thought she saw an almost smile form on his lips. Wistful. Sad. Her chest contracted and her mouth opened but there was a delay before she continued, ‘About winning back their love. But sitting there telling him about our engagement, I think…, I think it finally dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing lovely about trying to continuously convince someone you were worth loving and that they’d made a mistake. If for no other reason, I thank you deeply for saving me, Gavriil.’ Desperation still held a tight grip around her throat. She wanted to say more but what if she said too much. What if she’d already said too much?
He leaned into her hand on his cheek and she instantly felt her body shift closer to him. ‘He’s a fool.’ Her breathing stopped. Tormented dark eyes focused in on him. Why did he always make her want to crawl up into his lap? What was it about him that made her want to seek shelter in his embrace and be the storm that made him shake? She was still staring at him when he pulled her hand away and turned her wrist over, ‘Tell me about this.’
Blinking, she looked away and tried to think of words. Well, words other than ‘I love you.’
“Um…” She blinked some more, “He wasn’t happy about the news and I went to leave and he pulled me off my horse and…” Her head started to throb as she leaned back into the tub again and closed her eyes. “He pulled me off the horse and I might have tried to claw his eyes out.” The pint-sized Leventi’s voice was rather deadpan about that admittance.
‘I will return.’ The sound of the stool scooting away, had her eyes bolting open and her sloshing water over the side of the tub as she jerked upright. Where was he going? He wasn’t about to leave her. They weren’t done talking about this. Even in the shadows of evening, she watched him go to his wardrobe.
“If we are being perfectly honest, the bruises are probably self-defense on his part from my…” Her mouth snapped shut. Gavriil had tuned her out, he’d made up his mind and had a plan and if she was gauging by the things he was pulling out of his wardrobe it was a very poor plan.
Getting to her feet, she stepped out of the tub and grabbed the nearby chiton. “Where are you going?” She repeated, sliding her wet body into the silk fabric and fastening clasps and tying things haphazardly. “Gavriil, I’m trying to tell you that I’m falling in love with you… will you please just…” Her words stopped as he took the sword off the wall. Well, that wasn’t a good sign. “Damn it, Gavriil! I came here to tell you I’m in love with you.”
He unclipped the sword from the scabbard with a flick of his thumb and half withdrew the blade, considering it. The sword was in pristine condition. Like any military man worth his salt, Gavriil cleaned and polished the sword as often as was required. Metal was delicate and even if the weapon did not see frequent use and remained in its sheath, rust could still find it. If that should happen, the weapon was nearly useless. Not a soldier by profession, Gavriil was by no means deficient in his ability to wield a sword and had done so very recently in the battle with the Creed in the gorge. Nikos had been there, too, Gavriil reflected, not looking back when he heard sloshing and water hitting the floor, followed quickly by rustling fabric. This, at least, wouldn’t be like whipping a puppy. Ideally.
“Where are you going?” Evie demanded. He half turned, watching her struggle into a chiton. She hadn’t even dried off. The fabric stuck to her like a second skin in some places and plumed out in others, giving her an odd shape in the semi darkness. Her hair clung to her neck or fell away from her face in thick, dark tendrils. The knitted concern on her face did not immediately sway him. He merely snapped the sword back into its scabbard with a click and looked down to affix it to his belt.
“Gavriil, I’m trying to tell you that I’m falling in love with you… will you please just…”
Perhaps it was the hasty way she said it. Perhaps it was the half distraction of her anxiety radiating off her in waves that put up inner walls of stone hard resolve in his chest. The way she half bent forward, fingers fumbling with clasps, her toes peeking out from beneath the hem of her borrowed dress. This one was yellow, too. Like the one she’d been wearing that day that had changed everything. She belonged in yellow. Light and brilliant as a sunbeam. Only in this light it was dimmed and pale, rippled with shadow and highlighted in failing orange.
He stepped back from the wardrobe and turned to it, closing the doors. His mind was already on the doorway he knew so well. He was on the steps of Nicholias’s home. His fist was slamming against his old friend’s door. Evie’s words broke into his thoughts and he turned around, fixing his eyes on her, mildly surprised to find her there and belatedly thinking that was odd. How was it that she’d upended his entire world already? Never would he have imagined that a fury could burn so violent and cold inside his chest. It was the bruises that had done it. That Nikos had dared to touch her thus. Had presumed. He hadn’t heard her explanation and even if he had, it wouldn’t have swayed his opinion. If Evie had tried to scratch the man’s eyes out, there would have been good reason. She wasn’t insane. She had sense and if Nikos had driven her to it? It was his fault.
“Damn it, Gavriil! I came here to tell you I’m in love with you.” The words hung between them and he finally stopped thinking. He stilled, the eye of the storm inside him rendering everything calm for a few precious moments, keeping the whirling, harsh winds at bay. He held out a hand to her, crossing the intervening space to touch her, wanting that grounding connection. Perhaps it took moments like this - shocks to his being, but he knew as the words left his mouth that they were absolutely true.
“And I love you, too.” There wasn’t a second’s hesitation about it. He cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her face up, shadowed eyes roving her features. He found her beautiful in a way that was difficult to describe to other people and he wouldn’t have tried. He loved her passion. He loved the crease that formed between her brows that betrayed how deeply she felt about something, like now. He loved the mix of black and gold bringing the plains of her face into sharp relief.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting her face go and reaching down for her hand. Pulling back, he lifted her wrist until it was level with her own eyes. “He won’t be able to do this again,” he said and then, letting her go completely, stepped around her and strode towards the door.
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He unclipped the sword from the scabbard with a flick of his thumb and half withdrew the blade, considering it. The sword was in pristine condition. Like any military man worth his salt, Gavriil cleaned and polished the sword as often as was required. Metal was delicate and even if the weapon did not see frequent use and remained in its sheath, rust could still find it. If that should happen, the weapon was nearly useless. Not a soldier by profession, Gavriil was by no means deficient in his ability to wield a sword and had done so very recently in the battle with the Creed in the gorge. Nikos had been there, too, Gavriil reflected, not looking back when he heard sloshing and water hitting the floor, followed quickly by rustling fabric. This, at least, wouldn’t be like whipping a puppy. Ideally.
“Where are you going?” Evie demanded. He half turned, watching her struggle into a chiton. She hadn’t even dried off. The fabric stuck to her like a second skin in some places and plumed out in others, giving her an odd shape in the semi darkness. Her hair clung to her neck or fell away from her face in thick, dark tendrils. The knitted concern on her face did not immediately sway him. He merely snapped the sword back into its scabbard with a click and looked down to affix it to his belt.
“Gavriil, I’m trying to tell you that I’m falling in love with you… will you please just…”
Perhaps it was the hasty way she said it. Perhaps it was the half distraction of her anxiety radiating off her in waves that put up inner walls of stone hard resolve in his chest. The way she half bent forward, fingers fumbling with clasps, her toes peeking out from beneath the hem of her borrowed dress. This one was yellow, too. Like the one she’d been wearing that day that had changed everything. She belonged in yellow. Light and brilliant as a sunbeam. Only in this light it was dimmed and pale, rippled with shadow and highlighted in failing orange.
He stepped back from the wardrobe and turned to it, closing the doors. His mind was already on the doorway he knew so well. He was on the steps of Nicholias’s home. His fist was slamming against his old friend’s door. Evie’s words broke into his thoughts and he turned around, fixing his eyes on her, mildly surprised to find her there and belatedly thinking that was odd. How was it that she’d upended his entire world already? Never would he have imagined that a fury could burn so violent and cold inside his chest. It was the bruises that had done it. That Nikos had dared to touch her thus. Had presumed. He hadn’t heard her explanation and even if he had, it wouldn’t have swayed his opinion. If Evie had tried to scratch the man’s eyes out, there would have been good reason. She wasn’t insane. She had sense and if Nikos had driven her to it? It was his fault.
“Damn it, Gavriil! I came here to tell you I’m in love with you.” The words hung between them and he finally stopped thinking. He stilled, the eye of the storm inside him rendering everything calm for a few precious moments, keeping the whirling, harsh winds at bay. He held out a hand to her, crossing the intervening space to touch her, wanting that grounding connection. Perhaps it took moments like this - shocks to his being, but he knew as the words left his mouth that they were absolutely true.
“And I love you, too.” There wasn’t a second’s hesitation about it. He cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her face up, shadowed eyes roving her features. He found her beautiful in a way that was difficult to describe to other people and he wouldn’t have tried. He loved her passion. He loved the crease that formed between her brows that betrayed how deeply she felt about something, like now. He loved the mix of black and gold bringing the plains of her face into sharp relief.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting her face go and reaching down for her hand. Pulling back, he lifted her wrist until it was level with her own eyes. “He won’t be able to do this again,” he said and then, letting her go completely, stepped around her and strode towards the door.
He unclipped the sword from the scabbard with a flick of his thumb and half withdrew the blade, considering it. The sword was in pristine condition. Like any military man worth his salt, Gavriil cleaned and polished the sword as often as was required. Metal was delicate and even if the weapon did not see frequent use and remained in its sheath, rust could still find it. If that should happen, the weapon was nearly useless. Not a soldier by profession, Gavriil was by no means deficient in his ability to wield a sword and had done so very recently in the battle with the Creed in the gorge. Nikos had been there, too, Gavriil reflected, not looking back when he heard sloshing and water hitting the floor, followed quickly by rustling fabric. This, at least, wouldn’t be like whipping a puppy. Ideally.
“Where are you going?” Evie demanded. He half turned, watching her struggle into a chiton. She hadn’t even dried off. The fabric stuck to her like a second skin in some places and plumed out in others, giving her an odd shape in the semi darkness. Her hair clung to her neck or fell away from her face in thick, dark tendrils. The knitted concern on her face did not immediately sway him. He merely snapped the sword back into its scabbard with a click and looked down to affix it to his belt.
“Gavriil, I’m trying to tell you that I’m falling in love with you… will you please just…”
Perhaps it was the hasty way she said it. Perhaps it was the half distraction of her anxiety radiating off her in waves that put up inner walls of stone hard resolve in his chest. The way she half bent forward, fingers fumbling with clasps, her toes peeking out from beneath the hem of her borrowed dress. This one was yellow, too. Like the one she’d been wearing that day that had changed everything. She belonged in yellow. Light and brilliant as a sunbeam. Only in this light it was dimmed and pale, rippled with shadow and highlighted in failing orange.
He stepped back from the wardrobe and turned to it, closing the doors. His mind was already on the doorway he knew so well. He was on the steps of Nicholias’s home. His fist was slamming against his old friend’s door. Evie’s words broke into his thoughts and he turned around, fixing his eyes on her, mildly surprised to find her there and belatedly thinking that was odd. How was it that she’d upended his entire world already? Never would he have imagined that a fury could burn so violent and cold inside his chest. It was the bruises that had done it. That Nikos had dared to touch her thus. Had presumed. He hadn’t heard her explanation and even if he had, it wouldn’t have swayed his opinion. If Evie had tried to scratch the man’s eyes out, there would have been good reason. She wasn’t insane. She had sense and if Nikos had driven her to it? It was his fault.
“Damn it, Gavriil! I came here to tell you I’m in love with you.” The words hung between them and he finally stopped thinking. He stilled, the eye of the storm inside him rendering everything calm for a few precious moments, keeping the whirling, harsh winds at bay. He held out a hand to her, crossing the intervening space to touch her, wanting that grounding connection. Perhaps it took moments like this - shocks to his being, but he knew as the words left his mouth that they were absolutely true.
“And I love you, too.” There wasn’t a second’s hesitation about it. He cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her face up, shadowed eyes roving her features. He found her beautiful in a way that was difficult to describe to other people and he wouldn’t have tried. He loved her passion. He loved the crease that formed between her brows that betrayed how deeply she felt about something, like now. He loved the mix of black and gold bringing the plains of her face into sharp relief.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting her face go and reaching down for her hand. Pulling back, he lifted her wrist until it was level with her own eyes. “He won’t be able to do this again,” he said and then, letting her go completely, stepped around her and strode towards the door.
She’d become all thumbs fumbling with clasps, laces, and small elegant togs. Her small hands shook as she tried to fasten the fabric around her in a way that didn’t look the way she felt. Disturbed. She’d wanted just a moment of peace. A moment to tell him that he’d touched something deep inside of her, that he’d made parts of her that she’d never known existed come alive. She wanted him to press her against the wall and devour her. He half turned to look at her and her fingers slowed, her dark eyes pleading with to forget whatever was going through his mind and see only her at that moment.
Evangelina just watched as he stepped away from the wardrobe, his mind had taken him somewhere else and he was drifting away from her. Digging her fingers into the yellow silk at her sides she blinked, she was running out of options. Running out of ways to keep him from leaving her, and that’s when her mouth opened and the words she’d been holding on to since that night they’d spent together fumbled out of her. They were the sweet poetic words she’d planned. There were no candles lit and she was straddled over his hips wearing nothing. She blinked again, the voice that had come out of her was sharp, almost angry. They were true and raw and deep, like some kind of gaping flesh wound that she’d gotten on a battlefield. Her throat was closing. Please let that be enough…
The rain outside had slacked off but there was still a steady sound of heavy raindrops falling, but not like the wild thunderstorm that had been raging earlier when he’d carried her into the house. The house seemed eerily quiet as she stood there, clutching the silk of the gown and watching him. After what felt like an eternity, his hand came out to her and he crossed the space between them. Her body was in motion towards him before she even realized what was happening. Pressing herself into the nook of his frame, she buried her face into his chest.
Please don’t leave me. Just please don’t leave me.
His voice interrupted her thoughts, ‘And I love you, too.’ His hand on her chin tilted her face up to him and her lips fell open as she was finally able to take in a breath, one that she hadn’t even realized she was holding. His eyes darker than she’d ever remembered seeing them grazed over her face like fingertips and she knew at that moment he was going to leave her. Her fingers dug into him, just as she knew he was going to walk out that door on some mission for her honor she knew she wasn’t going to let him without clawing him to shreds and doing everything she could to keep that from happening.
Gavriil’s lips came down but didn’t land on hers, instead they found her forehead. His hand pried one of hers loose and lifted it until she was staring directly at her wrist. ‘He won’t be able to do this again.’ She blinked, slow realization of what he had planned dawning on her but before she could react. He’d let her go, he was stepping around her and striding out the door.
Her eyes wide, she stood there for a long moment processing it. He’d left her. Left her standing there, barefoot and wet after just admitting he loved her. Spinning around, she snatched up a pair of sandals and was hopping as she put them on and then raced out of his room, almost knocking over Lord Dorotheos in the hallway. She didn’t stop as she hit the stairs taking them two at a time, he’d be in the stable saddling his horse.
If she hurried she could cut him off coming out of the stables. Picking up the pace, she ignored the mud and her sandals and the hem of the yellow dress or the way the steady rain was already soaking through what was left of the dry chiton. Darting out in front of his horse, in just the nick of time. She threw her hands up so the horse would see her and stop, “Don’t you dare leave me, Gavriil? You can take me with you if you must but I swear to the Gods if you so much as ride off without me….” She paused, grinding her teeth angrily, “I swear I won’t be here when you get back.”
Maybe it didn’t sound like much of a threat, but she’d meant it on a much deeper level. She wouldn’t be here, she wouldn’t be in Vasiliadon. She wouldn’t be waiting for him if he left her standing here in the rain and mud to go off on some noble minded errand. It was then that she realized she was a lot more Leventi than she’d ever realized. She was every bit as selfish as her cousins and noble minded errands didn’t mean much to her, not when it conflicted with her own desires.
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Sept 15, 2020 22:11:40 GMT
Posted In Hope Rises on Sept 15, 2020 22:11:40 GMT
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She’d become all thumbs fumbling with clasps, laces, and small elegant togs. Her small hands shook as she tried to fasten the fabric around her in a way that didn’t look the way she felt. Disturbed. She’d wanted just a moment of peace. A moment to tell him that he’d touched something deep inside of her, that he’d made parts of her that she’d never known existed come alive. She wanted him to press her against the wall and devour her. He half turned to look at her and her fingers slowed, her dark eyes pleading with to forget whatever was going through his mind and see only her at that moment.
Evangelina just watched as he stepped away from the wardrobe, his mind had taken him somewhere else and he was drifting away from her. Digging her fingers into the yellow silk at her sides she blinked, she was running out of options. Running out of ways to keep him from leaving her, and that’s when her mouth opened and the words she’d been holding on to since that night they’d spent together fumbled out of her. They were the sweet poetic words she’d planned. There were no candles lit and she was straddled over his hips wearing nothing. She blinked again, the voice that had come out of her was sharp, almost angry. They were true and raw and deep, like some kind of gaping flesh wound that she’d gotten on a battlefield. Her throat was closing. Please let that be enough…
The rain outside had slacked off but there was still a steady sound of heavy raindrops falling, but not like the wild thunderstorm that had been raging earlier when he’d carried her into the house. The house seemed eerily quiet as she stood there, clutching the silk of the gown and watching him. After what felt like an eternity, his hand came out to her and he crossed the space between them. Her body was in motion towards him before she even realized what was happening. Pressing herself into the nook of his frame, she buried her face into his chest.
Please don’t leave me. Just please don’t leave me.
His voice interrupted her thoughts, ‘And I love you, too.’ His hand on her chin tilted her face up to him and her lips fell open as she was finally able to take in a breath, one that she hadn’t even realized she was holding. His eyes darker than she’d ever remembered seeing them grazed over her face like fingertips and she knew at that moment he was going to leave her. Her fingers dug into him, just as she knew he was going to walk out that door on some mission for her honor she knew she wasn’t going to let him without clawing him to shreds and doing everything she could to keep that from happening.
Gavriil’s lips came down but didn’t land on hers, instead they found her forehead. His hand pried one of hers loose and lifted it until she was staring directly at her wrist. ‘He won’t be able to do this again.’ She blinked, slow realization of what he had planned dawning on her but before she could react. He’d let her go, he was stepping around her and striding out the door.
Her eyes wide, she stood there for a long moment processing it. He’d left her. Left her standing there, barefoot and wet after just admitting he loved her. Spinning around, she snatched up a pair of sandals and was hopping as she put them on and then raced out of his room, almost knocking over Lord Dorotheos in the hallway. She didn’t stop as she hit the stairs taking them two at a time, he’d be in the stable saddling his horse.
If she hurried she could cut him off coming out of the stables. Picking up the pace, she ignored the mud and her sandals and the hem of the yellow dress or the way the steady rain was already soaking through what was left of the dry chiton. Darting out in front of his horse, in just the nick of time. She threw her hands up so the horse would see her and stop, “Don’t you dare leave me, Gavriil? You can take me with you if you must but I swear to the Gods if you so much as ride off without me….” She paused, grinding her teeth angrily, “I swear I won’t be here when you get back.”
Maybe it didn’t sound like much of a threat, but she’d meant it on a much deeper level. She wouldn’t be here, she wouldn’t be in Vasiliadon. She wouldn’t be waiting for him if he left her standing here in the rain and mud to go off on some noble minded errand. It was then that she realized she was a lot more Leventi than she’d ever realized. She was every bit as selfish as her cousins and noble minded errands didn’t mean much to her, not when it conflicted with her own desires.
She’d become all thumbs fumbling with clasps, laces, and small elegant togs. Her small hands shook as she tried to fasten the fabric around her in a way that didn’t look the way she felt. Disturbed. She’d wanted just a moment of peace. A moment to tell him that he’d touched something deep inside of her, that he’d made parts of her that she’d never known existed come alive. She wanted him to press her against the wall and devour her. He half turned to look at her and her fingers slowed, her dark eyes pleading with to forget whatever was going through his mind and see only her at that moment.
Evangelina just watched as he stepped away from the wardrobe, his mind had taken him somewhere else and he was drifting away from her. Digging her fingers into the yellow silk at her sides she blinked, she was running out of options. Running out of ways to keep him from leaving her, and that’s when her mouth opened and the words she’d been holding on to since that night they’d spent together fumbled out of her. They were the sweet poetic words she’d planned. There were no candles lit and she was straddled over his hips wearing nothing. She blinked again, the voice that had come out of her was sharp, almost angry. They were true and raw and deep, like some kind of gaping flesh wound that she’d gotten on a battlefield. Her throat was closing. Please let that be enough…
The rain outside had slacked off but there was still a steady sound of heavy raindrops falling, but not like the wild thunderstorm that had been raging earlier when he’d carried her into the house. The house seemed eerily quiet as she stood there, clutching the silk of the gown and watching him. After what felt like an eternity, his hand came out to her and he crossed the space between them. Her body was in motion towards him before she even realized what was happening. Pressing herself into the nook of his frame, she buried her face into his chest.
Please don’t leave me. Just please don’t leave me.
His voice interrupted her thoughts, ‘And I love you, too.’ His hand on her chin tilted her face up to him and her lips fell open as she was finally able to take in a breath, one that she hadn’t even realized she was holding. His eyes darker than she’d ever remembered seeing them grazed over her face like fingertips and she knew at that moment he was going to leave her. Her fingers dug into him, just as she knew he was going to walk out that door on some mission for her honor she knew she wasn’t going to let him without clawing him to shreds and doing everything she could to keep that from happening.
Gavriil’s lips came down but didn’t land on hers, instead they found her forehead. His hand pried one of hers loose and lifted it until she was staring directly at her wrist. ‘He won’t be able to do this again.’ She blinked, slow realization of what he had planned dawning on her but before she could react. He’d let her go, he was stepping around her and striding out the door.
Her eyes wide, she stood there for a long moment processing it. He’d left her. Left her standing there, barefoot and wet after just admitting he loved her. Spinning around, she snatched up a pair of sandals and was hopping as she put them on and then raced out of his room, almost knocking over Lord Dorotheos in the hallway. She didn’t stop as she hit the stairs taking them two at a time, he’d be in the stable saddling his horse.
If she hurried she could cut him off coming out of the stables. Picking up the pace, she ignored the mud and her sandals and the hem of the yellow dress or the way the steady rain was already soaking through what was left of the dry chiton. Darting out in front of his horse, in just the nick of time. She threw her hands up so the horse would see her and stop, “Don’t you dare leave me, Gavriil? You can take me with you if you must but I swear to the Gods if you so much as ride off without me….” She paused, grinding her teeth angrily, “I swear I won’t be here when you get back.”
Maybe it didn’t sound like much of a threat, but she’d meant it on a much deeper level. She wouldn’t be here, she wouldn’t be in Vasiliadon. She wouldn’t be waiting for him if he left her standing here in the rain and mud to go off on some noble minded errand. It was then that she realized she was a lot more Leventi than she’d ever realized. She was every bit as selfish as her cousins and noble minded errands didn’t mean much to her, not when it conflicted with her own desires.
He stepped out into the hallway, the cold fury settling over him again. His brother was indeed home and looked to have walked in only this very moment. Water pooled at Dorotheos’s feet, darkening the stone like a leaking shadow. His brother turned his head, eyes seeking Gavriil’s but Gavriil did not stop. His brother did not reach for him, only watched him go. The house was abuzz with quiet conversations like that. All of them centered on Evangelina and her horse. They didn’t know the particulars but they soon would and that made him all the more furious.
The stairs melted away before him and he advanced through the house like a harsh, galeforce wind. With Dorotheos home, Gavriil didn’t spare a single thought to his daughters. They were safe enough in their uncle’s care and it left him able to think on his own pressing affairs. Like all good servants, someone streaked ahead of him, preparing his horse as though they could read his mind. He approached the stable to find his mare already standing and waiting for him. He fixed his sword to the saddle and swung up, taking up the reins in one hand.
Rain fell in gentle curtains by then, constant but not torrential like they had been. He dug his heels into his mare’s flanks but he jerked back on the reins in nearly the same instant. A shadow fled across the courtyard, slight and pale, arms wheeling, weighed down by the fabric of a chiton very much meant to be dry. It was sheer now, sticking to her and revealing everything. But it wasn’t her body upon which Gavriil’s eyes rested. His set jaw gave his mouth a grim turn and he looked steadily at her like he could will her inside. As if anyone had true control of a Leventi woman.
“Don’t you dare leave me, Gavriil! You can take me with you if you must but I swear to the Gods if you so much as ride off without me….” He opened his mouth to tell her he would not be taking her. The entire point of scooping her up and dropping her in a bath and giving her that dress had been to keep her dry. She’d been so listless and alarmingly doll-like; not like a person at all. There was a bit of relief, at least, that she was all flames and spitting sparks now. He could practically see smoke tunneling up from her in a fury quite opposite to his own. His was lethal and calm, slow to stir and nearly impossible to chip away at.. Hers was fiery and passionate, easily ignited and easily put out again.
”I swear I won’t be here when you get back,” she added when he’d very much started to move his legs again in order to ride off. Gavriil stared down at her for what seemed like eternity. Then he leaned down, caught her about the waist, and sat her in front of him.
“You are a Leventi,” he rumbled at her, wrapping his cloak about her and spurring his mare into action. Hugging her this way was not romantic. It was like snuggling up to a slick, chilly otter. His horse’s hooves pounded the stone and then they were charging through the gates. He kept his head averted somewhat to avoid the sting of rain on his face. The ride didn’t take long. Though all the city estates were large, they were not so far apart as Gavriil might personally wish. Soon, the Condos manor loomed up before them, brilliant and bright against the gloom they rode through. One would never know it harbored such a snake as Nikos.
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Sept 16, 2020 17:25:14 GMT
Posted In Hope Rises on Sept 16, 2020 17:25:14 GMT
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He stepped out into the hallway, the cold fury settling over him again. His brother was indeed home and looked to have walked in only this very moment. Water pooled at Dorotheos’s feet, darkening the stone like a leaking shadow. His brother turned his head, eyes seeking Gavriil’s but Gavriil did not stop. His brother did not reach for him, only watched him go. The house was abuzz with quiet conversations like that. All of them centered on Evangelina and her horse. They didn’t know the particulars but they soon would and that made him all the more furious.
The stairs melted away before him and he advanced through the house like a harsh, galeforce wind. With Dorotheos home, Gavriil didn’t spare a single thought to his daughters. They were safe enough in their uncle’s care and it left him able to think on his own pressing affairs. Like all good servants, someone streaked ahead of him, preparing his horse as though they could read his mind. He approached the stable to find his mare already standing and waiting for him. He fixed his sword to the saddle and swung up, taking up the reins in one hand.
Rain fell in gentle curtains by then, constant but not torrential like they had been. He dug his heels into his mare’s flanks but he jerked back on the reins in nearly the same instant. A shadow fled across the courtyard, slight and pale, arms wheeling, weighed down by the fabric of a chiton very much meant to be dry. It was sheer now, sticking to her and revealing everything. But it wasn’t her body upon which Gavriil’s eyes rested. His set jaw gave his mouth a grim turn and he looked steadily at her like he could will her inside. As if anyone had true control of a Leventi woman.
“Don’t you dare leave me, Gavriil! You can take me with you if you must but I swear to the Gods if you so much as ride off without me….” He opened his mouth to tell her he would not be taking her. The entire point of scooping her up and dropping her in a bath and giving her that dress had been to keep her dry. She’d been so listless and alarmingly doll-like; not like a person at all. There was a bit of relief, at least, that she was all flames and spitting sparks now. He could practically see smoke tunneling up from her in a fury quite opposite to his own. His was lethal and calm, slow to stir and nearly impossible to chip away at.. Hers was fiery and passionate, easily ignited and easily put out again.
”I swear I won’t be here when you get back,” she added when he’d very much started to move his legs again in order to ride off. Gavriil stared down at her for what seemed like eternity. Then he leaned down, caught her about the waist, and sat her in front of him.
“You are a Leventi,” he rumbled at her, wrapping his cloak about her and spurring his mare into action. Hugging her this way was not romantic. It was like snuggling up to a slick, chilly otter. His horse’s hooves pounded the stone and then they were charging through the gates. He kept his head averted somewhat to avoid the sting of rain on his face. The ride didn’t take long. Though all the city estates were large, they were not so far apart as Gavriil might personally wish. Soon, the Condos manor loomed up before them, brilliant and bright against the gloom they rode through. One would never know it harbored such a snake as Nikos.
He stepped out into the hallway, the cold fury settling over him again. His brother was indeed home and looked to have walked in only this very moment. Water pooled at Dorotheos’s feet, darkening the stone like a leaking shadow. His brother turned his head, eyes seeking Gavriil’s but Gavriil did not stop. His brother did not reach for him, only watched him go. The house was abuzz with quiet conversations like that. All of them centered on Evangelina and her horse. They didn’t know the particulars but they soon would and that made him all the more furious.
The stairs melted away before him and he advanced through the house like a harsh, galeforce wind. With Dorotheos home, Gavriil didn’t spare a single thought to his daughters. They were safe enough in their uncle’s care and it left him able to think on his own pressing affairs. Like all good servants, someone streaked ahead of him, preparing his horse as though they could read his mind. He approached the stable to find his mare already standing and waiting for him. He fixed his sword to the saddle and swung up, taking up the reins in one hand.
Rain fell in gentle curtains by then, constant but not torrential like they had been. He dug his heels into his mare’s flanks but he jerked back on the reins in nearly the same instant. A shadow fled across the courtyard, slight and pale, arms wheeling, weighed down by the fabric of a chiton very much meant to be dry. It was sheer now, sticking to her and revealing everything. But it wasn’t her body upon which Gavriil’s eyes rested. His set jaw gave his mouth a grim turn and he looked steadily at her like he could will her inside. As if anyone had true control of a Leventi woman.
“Don’t you dare leave me, Gavriil! You can take me with you if you must but I swear to the Gods if you so much as ride off without me….” He opened his mouth to tell her he would not be taking her. The entire point of scooping her up and dropping her in a bath and giving her that dress had been to keep her dry. She’d been so listless and alarmingly doll-like; not like a person at all. There was a bit of relief, at least, that she was all flames and spitting sparks now. He could practically see smoke tunneling up from her in a fury quite opposite to his own. His was lethal and calm, slow to stir and nearly impossible to chip away at.. Hers was fiery and passionate, easily ignited and easily put out again.
”I swear I won’t be here when you get back,” she added when he’d very much started to move his legs again in order to ride off. Gavriil stared down at her for what seemed like eternity. Then he leaned down, caught her about the waist, and sat her in front of him.
“You are a Leventi,” he rumbled at her, wrapping his cloak about her and spurring his mare into action. Hugging her this way was not romantic. It was like snuggling up to a slick, chilly otter. His horse’s hooves pounded the stone and then they were charging through the gates. He kept his head averted somewhat to avoid the sting of rain on his face. The ride didn’t take long. Though all the city estates were large, they were not so far apart as Gavriil might personally wish. Soon, the Condos manor loomed up before them, brilliant and bright against the gloom they rode through. One would never know it harbored such a snake as Nikos.
Those long moments of standing there in the dark wetness, her fists clenched in the fabric of her now translucent golden fabric. There was a time not that long ago that she’d have faltered at the uncertainty of her body so fully exposed. Her jaw clenched and sparks flying from her eyes as she glared up at him in those long moments after issuing her warning. It wasn’t simply a threat. If he left her, loving him wouldn’t matter. Their relationship was built on the foundation of trust and how could she trust someone who left her standing there in the rain. How could she trust him if this noble fools errand was more important than her? Never flinching or wavering she waited for him to come to the conclusion that she was not bluffing about her warning.
After a moment, he leaned down catching her around the waist and pulling her up in front of him. She closed her eyes in relief as she settled down in front of him. She didn’t have a plan but she had managed to get this far without one. May the Gods show her favor. ‘You are a Leventi.’ Her body relaxed at that grumbling admission from him. Was this what it was like to reclaim power? Was this how the game changed? Remembering. Embracing the fact that she was a Leventi? She’d spent her life trying to escape that, had she been fighting the wrong inner battle?
“So I am, it seems.” Evangelina confessed as she leaned back into the warmth of his body. Exhaling deeply, she used the silence of the ride to plan a way to stop this. Nikos probably deserved to have some sense knocked into him. A man would have let her go instead of grasping her wrists. It wasn’t exactly a wise decision to grab a hellcat by the tail when they were trying to get away. Despite Nikos deserving it, she didn’t want Gavriil to issue the punishment. She also had every faith in the world that Gavriil would be content with the spill of blood and not rob his friend of his heir.
A need for contact with Gavriil as her thoughts drifted to the possible outcomes of this, one of her hands reached out and covered his on the reins. Her hand gave a gentle squeeze hoping the contact would draw him out of this cold fury he had settled into. She could see the Condos manor lit up just ahead, tilting her head up she looked up at him, “Thank you for letting me come.” Pressing her lips together, she dropped her face again. She was a Leventi. The pint-sized woman wouldn’t be bursting into hysterics at the first shed of blood. If anything, she would be burning down this world in order to make sure he succeeded.
Steeling herself for the awkwardness that was about to transpire. She squeezed his hand again in reminder that she was there for him. It was apparent that the Condos’ manor were not expecting anyone in the thunderstorm with the slowness that a servant came out to collect the horse. Letting him dismount first, before she swung herself free and let herself fade behind the shadow of him. Her gaze shifted around the dark of the estate, would he speak to Nikolias first or would he go straight in to deal with Nikos?
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Sept 16, 2020 19:08:03 GMT
Posted In Hope Rises on Sept 16, 2020 19:08:03 GMT
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Those long moments of standing there in the dark wetness, her fists clenched in the fabric of her now translucent golden fabric. There was a time not that long ago that she’d have faltered at the uncertainty of her body so fully exposed. Her jaw clenched and sparks flying from her eyes as she glared up at him in those long moments after issuing her warning. It wasn’t simply a threat. If he left her, loving him wouldn’t matter. Their relationship was built on the foundation of trust and how could she trust someone who left her standing there in the rain. How could she trust him if this noble fools errand was more important than her? Never flinching or wavering she waited for him to come to the conclusion that she was not bluffing about her warning.
After a moment, he leaned down catching her around the waist and pulling her up in front of him. She closed her eyes in relief as she settled down in front of him. She didn’t have a plan but she had managed to get this far without one. May the Gods show her favor. ‘You are a Leventi.’ Her body relaxed at that grumbling admission from him. Was this what it was like to reclaim power? Was this how the game changed? Remembering. Embracing the fact that she was a Leventi? She’d spent her life trying to escape that, had she been fighting the wrong inner battle?
“So I am, it seems.” Evangelina confessed as she leaned back into the warmth of his body. Exhaling deeply, she used the silence of the ride to plan a way to stop this. Nikos probably deserved to have some sense knocked into him. A man would have let her go instead of grasping her wrists. It wasn’t exactly a wise decision to grab a hellcat by the tail when they were trying to get away. Despite Nikos deserving it, she didn’t want Gavriil to issue the punishment. She also had every faith in the world that Gavriil would be content with the spill of blood and not rob his friend of his heir.
A need for contact with Gavriil as her thoughts drifted to the possible outcomes of this, one of her hands reached out and covered his on the reins. Her hand gave a gentle squeeze hoping the contact would draw him out of this cold fury he had settled into. She could see the Condos manor lit up just ahead, tilting her head up she looked up at him, “Thank you for letting me come.” Pressing her lips together, she dropped her face again. She was a Leventi. The pint-sized woman wouldn’t be bursting into hysterics at the first shed of blood. If anything, she would be burning down this world in order to make sure he succeeded.
Steeling herself for the awkwardness that was about to transpire. She squeezed his hand again in reminder that she was there for him. It was apparent that the Condos’ manor were not expecting anyone in the thunderstorm with the slowness that a servant came out to collect the horse. Letting him dismount first, before she swung herself free and let herself fade behind the shadow of him. Her gaze shifted around the dark of the estate, would he speak to Nikolias first or would he go straight in to deal with Nikos?
Those long moments of standing there in the dark wetness, her fists clenched in the fabric of her now translucent golden fabric. There was a time not that long ago that she’d have faltered at the uncertainty of her body so fully exposed. Her jaw clenched and sparks flying from her eyes as she glared up at him in those long moments after issuing her warning. It wasn’t simply a threat. If he left her, loving him wouldn’t matter. Their relationship was built on the foundation of trust and how could she trust someone who left her standing there in the rain. How could she trust him if this noble fools errand was more important than her? Never flinching or wavering she waited for him to come to the conclusion that she was not bluffing about her warning.
After a moment, he leaned down catching her around the waist and pulling her up in front of him. She closed her eyes in relief as she settled down in front of him. She didn’t have a plan but she had managed to get this far without one. May the Gods show her favor. ‘You are a Leventi.’ Her body relaxed at that grumbling admission from him. Was this what it was like to reclaim power? Was this how the game changed? Remembering. Embracing the fact that she was a Leventi? She’d spent her life trying to escape that, had she been fighting the wrong inner battle?
“So I am, it seems.” Evangelina confessed as she leaned back into the warmth of his body. Exhaling deeply, she used the silence of the ride to plan a way to stop this. Nikos probably deserved to have some sense knocked into him. A man would have let her go instead of grasping her wrists. It wasn’t exactly a wise decision to grab a hellcat by the tail when they were trying to get away. Despite Nikos deserving it, she didn’t want Gavriil to issue the punishment. She also had every faith in the world that Gavriil would be content with the spill of blood and not rob his friend of his heir.
A need for contact with Gavriil as her thoughts drifted to the possible outcomes of this, one of her hands reached out and covered his on the reins. Her hand gave a gentle squeeze hoping the contact would draw him out of this cold fury he had settled into. She could see the Condos manor lit up just ahead, tilting her head up she looked up at him, “Thank you for letting me come.” Pressing her lips together, she dropped her face again. She was a Leventi. The pint-sized woman wouldn’t be bursting into hysterics at the first shed of blood. If anything, she would be burning down this world in order to make sure he succeeded.
Steeling herself for the awkwardness that was about to transpire. She squeezed his hand again in reminder that she was there for him. It was apparent that the Condos’ manor were not expecting anyone in the thunderstorm with the slowness that a servant came out to collect the horse. Letting him dismount first, before she swung herself free and let herself fade behind the shadow of him. Her gaze shifted around the dark of the estate, would he speak to Nikolias first or would he go straight in to deal with Nikos?