The war began hundreds of years ago, when people first realized they could control the earth and the fire and the water to do their own bidding. At first it all existed in harmony, for no one was ever cold or thirsty and beauty always surrounded them. Then many lost the ability to bend the earth to their will and the fire's might dwindled amongst families and water was only obtained from lakes and rivers. In England, ordinary people gained power and Kings and Queens ruled. Those special people with these remarkable gifts fell into obscurity and were forgotten. The few that maintained the power to conduct fire through their fingertips or make a flower bloom in the desert remained silent as the world was found to be round, as people traveled to America and colonized, and as Queen Victoria took her throne in England.
Unbeknowst to all these colonizing and ruling peoples, two prosperous families rose in the midst of all of the normality with amazing gifts. Water and fire. They were complete opposites and they hated each other with a passion. The Whitmans and the Ceruls survived decades, inhaling and exhaling such hatred. It became law for each family to despise all those of the other element. There were spies and arsonists and hurricanes. It was chaos and would have destroyed the world, if it had been a war like others. But there were no standing armies and no battle grounds. There were secret missions and assassins that moved about in the most discreet manner.
Those of the earth element, served those of fire. They had been subverted from their position of power nearly two hundred years ago. Unlike the Ceruls, the earth people had been monetarily irresponsible and that had give fire a chance to overrun them. They were essentially salves, but not in the traditional sense. It was remarkable, having that kind of power of a person and what they controlled. At least it was to Phedre Eos Whitman.
She was the eldest child of two, born to Leila and Joseph Alexander Whitman. She was born on July 13th as the sun rose over England and thusly, her mother named her after the dawn goddess, Eos, who was thought to be the guardian of the fiery sun. She was a blessing to her family, though not the male heir that her father had desired. That came with the birth of the second child. A young boy named Daemon, three years younger than herself. It had been difficult to bring Phedre into their world, for the Water elementalists had learned of Leila's pregnancy and tried to stop it from coming to term, as the Whitman family had tried to keep the middle boy of the Ceruls from being born. But both failed in these attempts and so the children were born a few months apart but no one thought anything of it at the time.
Phedre had perfect skin for a young woman, entirely unblemished. After all what unseemly marks could produce themselves when she could easily heat her skin and destroy such infections. Long blonde hair hung around her face in thick waves and at times would cover her right eye. This had been unseemly when she was born. Both of her parents were redheaded, a signature of the Whitman family and their connection to their fiery powers. Despite the fact that Phedre's hair was thick and lovely, it was something her family had always frowned upon. Her nose was slightly upturned but it was delicate and not large like her father's. Another mark against her were her eyes. They were blue. Perfectly, crystalline blue. Both of her parents and grandparents had possessed the deepest amber eyes, resembling fire in the sunlight. But she hadn't inherited these either and it caused a great distress when she was little . Now, however, now they had been used as a bargaining chip. They had been used to secure her marriage in her nineteenth year of life. They were usefully now, only because a truce had been declared.
[align=center][&xxx&]
"Mama! You cannot be serious." She clenched her teeth in anger at the news. She lived for the war. Her thirst for vengeance had escalated seven months ago when the water elementalists had slaughtered her companion against the rocks near their retreat in France. Yet now, now she would never be able to retaliate against those wretched fools that called themselves elementalistz. They didn't deserve the title. Making waves in a calm pond. Ha! What a pathetic ability.
"Your mother is perfectly serious, child." Her father's voice cracked as it had been silent for the beginning of the conversation. "It is done. There have been arrangements and it is finished." He stuck his pipe back into his mouth, holding it between his teeth and looking at his daughter with smoldering dark eyes. She had envied those eyes all of her life but now they seemed to mean nothing. Nothing.
"Papa! You lived for this war. You thrived on the power it gave you." She rose from her chair, pushing herself out of the silk cushions that graced many of the pieces of furniture in the household. "You destroyed three of their supporters with a single blow. You are the mightiest of the Whitmans and raised me to never shrink from my duty. You taught me everything I know. How to summon, how to repel, how to-" She stopped, not daring to speak their secret out loud, but Joseph Whitman would know what she meant. "This war is our life!"
"Not anymore." Leila Whitman's voice was soft but it broke down her daughter's argument and she looked from one parent to the other and gave a soft growl of displeasure before retiring from the room to head up to the third floor of their home. It was a brilliantly decorated place, three stories tall and filled with some of the most exquisite items. Priceless paintings and vases and furniture, the Whitmans upheld their family name by displaying their wealth openly.
After she had departed the room, her mother turned to Joseph, letting out a soft sigh. "Do you think we should have told her about the arrangements?" Her mother's voice sounded uncertain about their decision. She brushed a strand of her graying dark hair from her face, settling back against the couch with a small tea cup in her hand. Holding one hand about the cup and resting the other beneath it. "She has a right to know, Joseph darling."
Shaking his already grey head that had once maintained bright red locks, Phedre's father snorted and removed the pipe from between his lips. "Leila, we cannot. We have agreed not to breathe a word until it is all finalized. You know this. It would be a bad omen to betray what fragile trust we have built this alliance on." With that, he turned away from her.
The Whitman estate was enormous but they didn't brag or boast. They left subtle reminders of their power on their estate, at the front entrance and on the walls that surrounded the back of the house. They were wealthy enough to survive even the toughest times but nowhere near as powerful as the royal family. However, they made themselves known and many men had come to seek Phedre's hand, as well as her dowry and inheritance. She would turn her head at many of them. She was not ready to wed any man. With that thought, she entered her room and slipped onto the window seat, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She was furious but remained calm, merely snapping her fingers, calling small flames to dance across her nails before she snapped again and they would disappear.
Having such an ability at her fingertips made her brash but not conceited entirely. Her personality was hardly unflawed. She had been taught humility and gratitude for being placed in such prestigious family. She was indeed thankful for her fire-bending gifts and practiced them to keep them honed. Shields of fire and drawing it from other's body heat would have made her the commander of the troops, so to speak. As the oldest she would have gained the power to command the assassins to their duty against the water elementalists. For in the Whitman household, women were revered as much as the men. For it was a woman that began the family, having been cast out from her own for getting with child out of wedlock. Despite her humility, she was rash at times, prone to temper and anger.
And she had built a legacy that would have lasted centuries. CENTURIES. Ah, God. Phedre thought, unwrapping her arms and hissing through her teeth. Were they so blind to believe that an alliance with the benders of water? Those foolish Ceruls would destroy them the second her father turned his back. It was ludicrous. Sacrilege!!She swallowed and shook her head, pushing herself off of the couch and heading to her closet. She would change into pants and a loose cotton shirt and head down to the basement. Then she'd begin training and practice.
[&xxx&]
And months passed without a word of the water benders. Phedre and her family traveled a bit and it was undisturbed, which made her slightly uncomfortable. There were no small torrential rainstorms, washed out roads blocking their path. There was absolutely nothing to make the vacation worth it. She used to look forward to the trips for their adventure and spice but now they were what every ordinary person took. They were completely common and mundane. Wanting to pull her hair out, Phedre suffered the simplicity of their trip until they finally returned home in early October. It was brisk in England still, growing colder as the months passed but still no need for a heavy coat.
So Phedre passed along through their back garden, occasionally taking a short stop to gaze at this or that bird. She frowned, not pleased that her favorite flowers would not survive in England weather. She slipped her hands together as though in prayer and continued to stroll through the gardens until she heard the familiar fall of feet behind her, running and then a panting breath. She turned around, her hands unclasped and ready. But it was only her brother. She frowned.
"Phedre! PHEDRE!" Her brother, Daemon Joseph Whitman hissed out her name in a hurried breath making it sound so terrible, like "Fay-draaaa." She raised both of her eyebrows in question and placed her hands back down by her side in slight disappointment. "Mama and Father want to see you. I assume that the way that they made me run so foolishly and not a servant means that it is important." Phedre waved her hand in the air and then smiled. She had missed using the fire to her advantage. The blood drained out of Daemon's face. "Phedre." He coughed slightly, hardly having caught his breath yet. "Don't. Mother and Father will be furious. Don't you-" He was unable to finish as he turned on his heels and ran as Phedre hurled a burst of fire after her little brother. Purposely missing she smiled in pleasure before following after him a much slower pace.
Slowly her feet took her towards the back door to their home and she slipped through the kitchen entrance, stealing a slice of an orange before heading out. She stuck it between her teeth and sucked all the juice before making it out and deposited in the trash bin, smiling at Katherine, their Earth elementalist cook. The older woman smiled back before Phedre disappeared into the hallway and towards the family meeting room. Phedre entered and then delicately, she lowered herself into the seat, crossing her legs at the ankle and folding her hands onto her knees. "You requested me?" She smiled a bit, trying to lighten the dire mood that seemed to have taken hold of her parents.
Her father cleared his throat, no sign of a pipe in the room. That was a bad sign already. He smoked casually when there was nothing really important to discuss. This must be important, indeed, if her father had left his ever present tobacco upstairs. Phedre was a perceptive girl. Quiet almost, but always listening and observing. "This is a delicate, pressing, and nonnegotiable matter." That news made Phedre unconsciously bite her lip in anticipation. This was either really good or terrible wrong. Taking a slow breath, she nodded her head. Her father continued. "As mentioned a few months past, there were arrangements made with the Cerul family and their following concerning the war we have waged against each other." Nodding again, Phedre was wondering why he was bringing this matter up again.
"These arrangements are flimsy and weak without a substantial contract or binding force that holds them together. Having met with the head of the Cerul family presently, we agreed on this instability and have decided to settle it promptly." Joseph stuck his hands into his pockets and straightened himself up. That was when her mother interceded. "Phedre, darling. What your father is trying to say…is that the arrangement, the binding force, is marriage." Bewildered, it didn't hit Phedre who would be wedding whom, which brought up a question.
"And who will we be wedding off to them?" Her voice was naive, innocent. Subconciously, she knew what was happening but she denied it all the while, hoping and praying that it was not she that would be sent off to be holding the hand of a Cerul water elementalist. No, oh please.
"Phedre." Leila Whitman rose, turning her back to her daughter as if it was too hard to say. "Daemon is too young to wed and there is a boy near your age among the immediate Cerul family and the only way we could make a sufficient match with the boy was you, my doll." Phedre rose, furious and outraged, snapping as soon as the words were said. She glared at her parents and felt the heat rising in her face. The flames that flickered in the fireplace roared up, stretching out and nearly burning the oriental carpet that hugged the floor.
"Mother! You cannot be serious! You expect me to abandon father's name. THE WHITMAN NAME to take up the name of our enemies. You expect me to become a-a Cerul?! This is more preposterous than calling the entire war off. You must be delusional. Father." She turned to him but his face was like stone and she noticed that the fire was already put out and wouldn't raise under her power. She stepped back, suddenly meek and unwilling to speak. Nodding her head in that moment, she slipped out of the room holding back tears and so much energy that surged up and threatened to consume her. Slamming the door to her room, she barely heard her brother creeping behind her. After a moment, she returned to the door and threw it open. His face was white and full of regret.
"Phedre, I am sorry for you. If I was older perhaps and there had been a female Cerul..." He trailed off, trying to comfort his older sister who looked up at him. He was fifteen now and much taller than herself. She stood already two inches shorter than he did and felt younger at times. "But Mama told me to tell you to be ready in a few hours for we will be leaving for their estate." He added, keeping his voice very…calm. Nodding her head, she merely closed the door but his hand stopped it and pulled her into a very unseemly hug. They rarely showed signs of affection. "And Francine ran a bath for you."
[&xxx&]
The young Whitman heir didn't remember taking the bath or fixing her hair. She couldn't recall dressing in one of her finest outfits and applying the proper blush and shimmer to her face. Everything passed by in a state of unseemly shock that she didn't speak the entire time. The first thing she could remember was climbing into the carriage and heading off for the Cerul Estate on the other side of the town. Taking a slow breath, she bit her lip and closed her lids over those striking blue eyes. Nothing could have made any of this any easier except perhaps if she killed the boy on the spot. But then, that wouldn't bode well for Daemon. Yes, she had to think of her little brother whose life would be safer for this marriage.
Drawing up to the door she slipped out, taking one look at herself before moving to the steps. Her gown was of the finest silk and the deepest blue, but it made her feel hot, confined and weak. She hated the color blue. Soft lace bordered the top and across her breasts, hiding them view. Her mother had always been one for different fashion sense. The sleeves were also of lace, Phedre's least favorite part of the gown. Taking a step, she sighed and turned to give her mother a smile. If her mother thought she was okay, then perhaps it wouldn't be so bad in the long run. Before Joseph approached the door, the manservant answered and led them in. Right before she entered, she flicked her wrist, letting flames jump across her knuckles in sight of a maid's eyes before making the fiery red vanished and the family entered the home. Just a little fun.
Letting her eyes roam, Phedre examined the house the opposing family lived in, finding it much like her own before letting her gaze settle on the family to which it belonged. An older man and woman. The Ceruls. Then with a slow breath, her eyes came to rest on him and she felt her heart stop. Oh lord. She was going to be married to a Cerful. She was going to forsake the Whitman name for that water meddling bastard. Taking another slow breath, she tried to smile and found that her lips merely twitched.
Re: [r.krissieten!] A bad peace is even worse than a war. [m]
Posted: Fri Jul 17, 2015 2:47 am
by Dollface
There was a point in his young life where he had no care for this war. Destan Cerul was quite possibly the calmest of the three boys born to his father, and it plagued him constantly. His father had practically procured a small army of heirs, but his middle child, though talented was initially not the fighter he’d hoped him to be. It should have run thick in his blood, the hatred for those who could conjure fire.
Perhaps it was just dormant somewhere inside of him.
As he grew older, he always complied. As a young teenager he honed his abilities far better than Brunien, his eldest brother. Though it meant he was extremely valuable to their entire people, it also made him a target of his brother’s as well. To say that Brunien was an instigator was an understatement as he constantly tried to pick fights with Destan. They were meant to have a special comradery, but instead Brunien had the tendency to treat him as though he had licks of fire sparking from his fingertips.
The youngest of the Curel brothers, River, had no time for their antics. Everything was business to him. All of them had the traits that would have made one perfect son, and yet, they had all been split with years between them.
Tension between the eldest and middle boys alleviated when Brunien wed at the age of eighteen and left to live with his wife. He joined the rest of the family when he was needed – usually as the impending war came upon the Cerul family. So, when he hadn’t arrived as he usually did in the later part of the year, Destan was both mildly alarmed and extremely curious. He would have let it pass by without any question, but he came across his parents whispering together in the study far too many times for him to feel anything but concerned.
It was a beautiful autumn day when he ambushed his parents in the garden. They wandered together, arm in arm, and for a while he followed them quietly. It was only when they began to pass one of their fountains that he made his presence known – by swiftly sending a gush of water into the air before it came crashing down, creating waves in the small base of the fountain. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt?”
Normally he wasn’t so cheeky, but he couldn’t help but grin although his mother glared daggers at him. “You could have been a bit more subtle, son, but no. Of course you aren’t.”
“Good,” he said as he approached them, looking between his mother and father, before his eyes settled on the latter. “Brunien hasn’t arrived yet, and neither of you have been too subtle yourselves with all of your whispering and sneaking around.” Destan’s words were calm, even – one might even call him a little cold. “There’s been no talk of a war. Why?”
Silence fell between the three. Something had to be seriously wrong for them to be so quiet, and for once, Destan almost felt a small bubble of rage forming in his core.
A sigh came from his father first, who looked warily to his wife who gave his arm a squeeze.
“We have made arrangements with the Whitman family, Destan. All the details will be finalized in a few days’ time as they will be coming to our home with their daughter.” Destan hadn’t quite caught on to what his father was saying, and his mother completely avoided any sort of eye contact with her son. Usually, the man had the same ability to be clear cut with and concise with him, giving him firm direction on what was going to happen next.
“Destan, we’ve come into agreement that you will be marrying their daughter.” A pause in his words to gauge his son’s reaction – but Destan showed nothing on his face. His lips pressed together, his cool blue eyes unfaltering and never leaving his father’s face. “There is nothing around this. I am sorry.”
Of course. As little information as possible. This was his life they were deciding to toy with, so his father was going to vague. “What is this? Is this some sort of payback?” His words were like ice as he spat them towards the eldest of their family, but didn’t give the man a chance to respond. He turned on his foot, his pace quick, and with only the inflection from his mood, the sky grew dark over their estate. A crash of thunder, and rain began to fall from the sky that had previously been a light shade of blue only moments before.
---
Three days passed without him speaking to mother or father. Destan avoided them as much as he possibly could, which wasn’t entirely difficult in their large home. If word needed to be delivered, he alerted one of their servants, and his parents seemed to pick up on the subliminal message he sent that he did not want to discuss this further. They had made it crystal clear that there was no use in fighting this.
He supposed it was a good thing he wasn’t too much of a fighter anyway. However, if he was going to marry someone who could wield fire at any given moment, maybe he would have to learn.
That particular day he was adorned mostly in black – he hadn’t meant to make it look like he was attending his funeral, but once he realized he was done, he couldn’t help but think this may as well be his own funeral. His hair, a dirty blond color, was smoothed neatly to the right, though he had been tempted to leave it a little unruly for his bride-to-be.
Destan descended the staircase moments before she arrived with her parents. He was flanked by his mother and father, his face serene as the Whitmans were ushered into the foyer. There was no way Destan could ignore that she was striking – beautiful, but striking nonetheless – and took note of the fact she certainly didn’t look like she belonged to her innate element.
However, so far, the Whitman girl had one up on him.
Though she only managed the smallest of smiles, he regarded her with much more of a placid expression, only followed by a nod. He was instructed to be kind, charming, and charismatic in an attempt to entice her but he wasn’t stupid. Just as he didn’t like this arrangement, he knew she didn’t either – possibly even less than he. Knowing what he did of her, Destan was surprised to see she hadn’t come in ablaze and ready to set everything on fire, himself included. Destan had no inkling of what his parents thought they were doing when this wonderful arrangement was planned; didn’t they know they were polar opposites? Did they not realize there was a reason their families had been at war for centuries?
Though no one was acting on their abilities, the air in the room was thick. Destan remained calm, rather unwavering until a throat cleared to his left, his mother indicating that he was the one that needed to welcome the Whitman family into their home. A dark eyebrow tilted in her direction, a nod of her head indicating what he assumed, before turning his eyes to their guests.
“I suppose I should thank you for joining us today.”
“Destan.”
“Mother?”
She was lucky he hadn’t hung a raincloud over their heads… but perhaps that was too childish.
The patriarch of the Cerul family held his hand out to his side then, “Let’s move to the sitting room to discuss the finer points of the arrangement, shall we? Perhaps your daughter and my son should take the time to get acquainted?”
If he was years younger, he might have grimaced at the idea, but instead he drew his lips into a fine smile as he laid his eyes on the girl who was to be his wife. Destan should have assumed that an arranged marriage would be in the stars for him eventually, but he could not have foreseen being nineteen and arranged to marry a fire bender.
The older men and women began to trickle down the hall, and for a moment Destan stood in that same spot, his hands clasped behind his back. “Blue’s an interesting color.” Allowing his arms to drop to his sides, he stepped towards her, only a breath of a smile joining his otherwise placid expression. “Not bad, I suppose I wouldn’t have pegged a girl like you for blue.” Destan came to stand at her side, and minding is manners he offered his arm for her to take. “Would you like to go to the gardens while our parents go and plan the entirety of our lives for us?”
ooc| omg this seems really weird but i knocked it out woooop! i hope its okay! :*
Re: [r.krissieten!] A bad peace is even worse than a war. [m]
Posted: Fri Jul 17, 2015 8:42 pm
by Simply
The breath that waited to be inhaled hitched in her throat, just slightly. While the war between fire and water had raged for decades upon decades, Phedre never had seen even a photograph of the heirs to their opposition. He was strikingly handsome, in an exasperating sort of fashion, if she was being honest. As though she could not care, her eyes raked over him absentmindedly before turning to his parents. At his words, however, the sharp gaze flickered back to him. The inclination of her head pushed almost imperceptibly more towards the right. Whether it was amusement or irritation in her eyes, even she was unsure.
“That sounds delightful.” Her mother responded, looking pointedly at her daughter. It was the clear sign to Phedre that she was to play nice with her fiancé. The heiress’ attention drifted upwards to the man standing behind her mother. He was the one that she feared more than anything. His retribution for any ill behavior would be swift and fierce. She nodded slightly as she watched their retreating forms down the hall, following the heads of the Cerul household.
The shock had not quite worn off from her extremities. She was to wed this man in front of her. She would be his wife. She would bear his children. That final thought sent a shiver down her spine. Having children meant other aspects of their relationship would evolve. The idea repulsed her. A water elementalist touching her in any way made bile rise in the back of her throat. She would kill herself before she let that happen. And yet…she knew it was her duty to her family. She would do as her father bid her, but she wouldn’t necessarily be pleased about the orders she received.
“It was not my choice of attire.” She responded, standing her ground when he moved closer towards her. “I believe it is a favorite of your people. As the embodiment of this peace,” she gestured outward from herself in a ‘here I am’ fashion, “my mother felt it appropriate to wear your family’s colors. Without touching his bicep, Phedre slipped her arm through the hole he had made. Hesitantly, she placed her hand on his forearm and allowed him to lead her towards the family gardens. “Certainly.” She breathed, her voice soft against the cool air of his home. As they slipped out the back into the soft light of the day, sunbeams danced and leapt off of the extraordinary amount of fountains.
“Might I ask,” she began, but hardly bothered to pause to let him affirm her question, “when precisely were you informed of our parents arrangement?” They strolled at a steady pace. For all of Phedre’s elegance and grace, it was difficult not to feel awkward next to him. The heat of her body was a stark contrast to the coolness of his. She could feel the very air around them that intermingled begin to shift nervously. The nature around them clearly expected something to happen at any moment and the uneasiness was palpable. “I was notified just this morning, before being decked out in this dreadful color.” It was hardly an atrocious hue on the woman. She looked beautiful, as her blonde locks contrasted nice with the soft cobalt and it brought out the brightness of her eyes. The fiery woman preferred amber and golds though and a bright white. After all, the hottest flames were white.
Re: [r.krissieten!] A bad peace is even worse than a war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 12:06 am
by Dollface
Truthfully, Destan gave little thought to every condition of his marriage. Thinking about it at all the past few days was something he attempted to avoid entirely, although difficult to do. With the girl there now, there was no avoiding it, and he was essentially looking is future in the eyes. It was a good thing he’d taught himself to keep his emotions in check, otherwise there could have been a thunderstorm brewing in the foyer. No matter the turmoil he might have felt inside, though, he kept an even expression.
It faltered only slightly as the blonde mentioned that her dress was not her choice, his lips tilting into a small smile. There was no denying that the blue did suit her, though, but he wasn’t going to mention that presently. “It seems we’re not allowed to many any sort of decisions currently, are we?” Destan chuckled, though he didn’t find this situation amusing in the least. He was more than glad that she was at least making an attempt to be amicable with him though, even if she was a bit tense as she took his arm and he began to lead them out of his home.
Other than his own quarters, the place he favored the most was the gardens. It was where he spent most of his time as a child, amongst the plants and flowers and all of the fountains. His favorite spot was a small pond, tucked in between the hedges, but he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to lead her there right now. He kept his blue eyes ahead of him as they wandered, even as her voice touched his ears, and nodded his head once as she posed her question. “A few days ago, actually.” He replied simply, a small sigh parting his lips. Before he even got a chance to ask when she was told, she offered her own situation, and it was his turn to grow somewhat tense.
It alarmed him that her parents waited until the last moment to tell their daughter she was to marry him – but they must have known what sort of explosive reaction she would have and what damage she could have done if she had more time to properly react. “For what it’s worth,” he began, shifting his blue eyes in her direction as he paused his steps, “you don’t look absolutely dreadful.” Destan’s words were smooth as he spoke, just a hint of a smile coming to his lips.
“I’m truly sorry that you’ve been forced into this as well. I can’t say I was given much information as to why this is necessary...” For whatever reason, it needed to be done, and Destan could only hope they would know more about why after their parents finalized the arrangement. The way heat emanated from her was definitely going to be something to get used to – just the weight of her hand left his arm feeling a little unnaturally warm.
At that point, he was hyper-aware of it, and broke the contact as they had come to stop in front of one of the fountains. It was a larger one, with a statue set in the middle, and Destan sat himself along the edge of the fountain. “All I know is there will be no war as a result of our holy matrimony.” A dark brow tilted upwards as he looked to her, his jaw set as he cast a glance back towards his home. “Funny, too, because I don’t think I even remember your name. And they expect us to marry.” Another somewhat bitter laugh escaped him. “Destan, by the way. I would say that I suppose it would have been better to meet you under better circumstances, but I have the feeling if we’d met in any other situation, we’d likely be trying to kill each other.” His words were spoken so matter-of-factly, and he was once again faced with how backwards of a situation this is. “How do they know that this won’t even start another war entirely?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] A bad peace is even worse than a war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 3:03 pm
by Simply
The coolness of their contact didn’t really phase her, perhaps because he had a numbers of layers on to warm up what otherwise might have felt icy to her skin. The air around them, however, crackled softly against her ear. Their abrupt stop allowed her to slip away from him a few steps. The tightening of her throat at the disgust of having to touch him lessened with each inch of space that separated them. Thank goodness. Bright blue eyes scanned over him. The wall of her reserve cracked slightly. It came with the terrorist of being a fire elementalist – anger always lurked beneath the surface, flaring up at small moments. “Destan, yes, that name is familiar to me. The middle boy?” She said, turning her back on him and examining the buds on the flowers to her left. She could feel that they had been well tended to and the desire to burn them to the ground consumed her. She was in enemy territory. She should burn everything to ash and run.
It was not possible. “Phedre.” She responded curtly, brushing her fingers over the soft petals, feeling their silkiness against her flesh. Sighing, she turned back towards him. “You seem to have a healthier grasp of your emotions regarding this matter than I do. I am afraid that I do not feel sorry for what we are to endure. I am extremely displeased and I do not plan to,” a hand waved in the air, as though brushing aside the possibility of friendship, “make nice with you or your family.” Icy gaze met his as her hands folded together in front of her. “I plan to play my part. I will be a dutiful wife and nothing more beyond that. I feel that we are both capable enough to deal with a loveless marriage. I never expected a love match and I doubt you did. Our families are too valuable to England to allow such niceties.”
Once more, she began to walk away from him. It was a gentle step, merely circling around the area that they had stopped in. “I do not mean to be rude,” a pause, “well perhaps, I do. I don’t know.” Blonde curls brushed against the flush on her neck. Phedre had always been too blunt for a lady of her time. She should have been born centuries ago when matriarchies were common. As she faced him, she noticed that he had seated himself. Even sitting, he barely had to tilt his head up to look her in the eyes. He was very tall, very handsome. She swallowed, but her resolve was firm.
A faint smile danced against her coral lips. “Attempt to kill each other?” She inquired, laughing. “You underestimate me, Destan.” It was the first time she spoke his name to his face, calling to him, tasting it on her tongue. “You would be dead long before you even realized who I was.” The smile turned into a self-confident smirk. Phedre really was so unladylike when she was alone, when there was no one to slip and tell her parents about her behavior. “That is the one advantage to looking the way that I do. You would never expect a Whitman to look like a Cerul, would you?” Flames flicked around her wrist, snaking up the lace of the fabric without damaging it beneath their tongues.
“The war won’t end with us. It is a futile hope; a ridiculous dream of people that have grown too old to see that differences like ours cannot be solved with a simple marriage.” As she spoke, more spirals of flame twisted around her before completely extinguishing without a word. A sigh escaped her. “I do not mean you to think that I plan to murder you while you sleep. I will be your wife, but do not expect me to ever be friend to a water bender.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] A bad peace is even worse than a war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 4:09 pm
by Dollface
“Well, there’s no use in fighting this, is it?” He responded promptly as Phedre mentioned how he was dealing with the news of their impending marriage. When he’d learned of it the other day, it was the first time in a long time where he’d unintentionally cause a storm of that magnitude, and he hadn’t even willed it on purpose. With the mention of never expecting a marriage that was based out of love, he did agree with her, and had to wonder if he would have had the same reaction if it was any other young woman.
He watched her, listening carefully to her words, watching as the flames she procured licked at the lace of her blue sleeves. His nerves piqued slightly and his instinct was to put them out, but Destan sat still, somehow assured that she wasn’t going to use them against him. Not right now, at least.
Destan couldn’t help but laugh as she mentioned her ‘advantage’ to looking like she already belonged to his family. “I can’t say I would,” he replied and squared his shoulders, standing now from where he sat at the fountain’s edge to step close, more aware of just how much he towered over her, “but don’t pretend that you see it entirely as an advantage, Phedre.” Destan may not have known her well, but seeing as both parents and her brother looked the part of a fire bender… “It must tear you up, how much you look like you don’t belong,” he spoke, his voice low and cool as his blue eyes met her own. Something flickered inside of him, almost wanting to incite a reaction out of her. “Perhaps that’s why you’re so intent on being so destructive and ensuring everyone knows your abilities are far beyond everyone else’s?”
Brows raised, he took a step back from her, letting his arms drop to his sides before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t mean to be rude.” But then, perhaps he did as well.
If she was going to play this game, he’d return it just the same.
It wasn’t that Destan thought that she was being cocky or overconfident, in fact, he was quite sure she was just as deadly as she led on. At the same time, he didn’t want to test her to the point where she felt that she needed to prove herself. Destan certainly wouldn’t put that past her – she might flick those flames from her wrist in his direction and singe his eyebrows off for fun.
The way she spoke about how the war interested Destan; in a way, he found it both admirable but also naïve. “While I admire your adamancy, I’m sure you will be expected to act a certain way. Not particularly by my standards, I’m not here as your keeper, but to be courteous towards our people is all I ask. Towards me, I don’t particularly care I suppose, just keep to your word about not planning my murder.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] A bad peace is even worse than a war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 4:52 pm
by Simply
The movement he made, made her heart begin to race in her chest, pounding in her ears, as well. Defiantly, she tilted her chin up towards him, looking at him carefully. The pounding of her pulse in her ears ceased at his word. Anger swelled up beneath her breasts, spreading outward to her limbs like a forest fire up the trunks of trees. How dare he make assumptions about her feelings toward her appearance?! Yet, he was almost entirely accurate and that made the fire burn hotter inside of her. The fact that he could discern her nature so well so early made her extremely uncomfortable.
And he stepped away. The tension released slightly. “You think yourself a master of reading others?” She laughed, cocking her head to the left side as her gaze examined his face beneath dark lashes, enhanced by her mother’s attendants skills at facial artistry. “You should keep practicing, because your skills are surely lacking. Hopefully, your ineptitude is not a generalized trade.” The smirk played on her lips and her innuendo would be well understood.
He would be a formidable foe, if he were to be someone she would battle in this game of wits. Bright white flames twirled around her fingers, once more, comforting her. As she looked at him, she loathed him. The young Whitman had never seriously entertained the notion that she would marry for love. She knew that she would be married off to someone in order to garner fortune or fame for her family. She was aware that she would have to grow to love her husband or at least, hopefully, develop a certain level of respect for him. Apparently, this was not to be the case because Phedre would never, ever ever appreciate, respect or love this man that stood before her.
His concern for those around him was almost admirable. “I am a lady, fiancé of mine. I know how to conduct myself around others.” Her tone was evidently filled with annoyance. The young woman had been tutored in all of the fine arts of being a proper English lady. After her lessons on hosting a proper dinner and the appropriate way to seduce a man in public, Phedre learned to fight. She wore man’s breeches and engaged in combat. The heiress was capable of staring a fire with a mere thought. She could extinguish one just as quickly. She could weld metals by simply touching them and bending them to her will. Her abilities extended far beyond parlor tricks.
The distance between them closed again as she took a step towards him. Standing as tall as she could with her feet firmly on the ground, Phedre eliminating the flames. She placed her hand against his cheek. Her hand was dangerously warm against his cool skin. It wouldn’t harm it, but it certainly could not be described as comfortable. “Oh dear, you can’t stop me from planning your demise.” She met his eyes, daring him. “But I do promise to not act on my plans.” Drawing back, she looked towards the house.
“Do you believe it is safe for us to venture back? I assume our mothers will have every detail of our wedding devised by this point. The amount of my dowry will likely be substantial. You can afford to purchase a nice home for us. My only stipulation is that our rooms are on opposite ends of the house and that you keep a small one in the city.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] A bad peace is even worse than a war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 5:26 pm
by Dollface
To say she was displeased with his assumption would have been a vast understatement. She was seething, and while she may not have given it away with a look, Destan could feel the heat practically vibrating off of her body. If he was any normal person, perhaps he would have noticed it, but considering his own temperature ran a little cooler, the warmth was noteworthy. His own smirk didn’t falter, even with her innuendo, and Destan just gave a little shake of his head. “You’d have nothing to worry about, love.” The last word held only a hint of contempt.
It was then that it began to settle in his mind that he was now expected to spend the rest of his years with this young woman. Her disdain was clear to him, he didn’t exactly enjoy her company either, and it was unclear if he ever would. Destan wondered if most marriages began like this, and picked out memories of his own parents as a child. He wouldn’t say they were in love with each other, but they at least cared for and were fond of one another – perhaps that came with the territory of having children.
And children would certainly be expected of Phedre and Destan, he realized with a quick turn of his stomach. The idea of having and raising his own sons and daughters was terrifying in and of itself, but to have children with this one in front of him?
Destan had been lost in thought at that moment, just barely paying attention to her comment about being a lady. “I’ll take your word for it, for now at least,” he spoke somewhat distractedly, and also not entirely convinced for the time being. Other than her personal jabs at him, she was still acting appropriately, and he had to commend her on that much. It was then that she stepped closer to him and he was snapped entirely out of his thoughts, mind drawing a blank entirely as her hand came to rest at his cheek. The warmth seeped through his skin, Destan immediately growing uncomfortable both by the heat and the lack of distance between the two of them.
His eyes grew colder as he looked at her, jaw set, as though he were waiting for her to act against him. There was certainly something chilling about the way she spoke to him, and he knew then that she would not just be his wife: she was going to forever be his opponent, and she would constantly keep him on his toes.
A breath left him, and Destan attempted to keep it short so that he didn’t sound too relieved that she stepped away. He didn’t want her to think she could draw such a reaction from him, from simply touching him, but had her hand been any warmer he was sure that she could have left an imprint. His fingers absently lifting towards his still warm cheek as he watched her carefully, a brow tilting curiously with her demands about their living situation. “How daring of you to make such demands when you speak of planning my demise,” he stated with another short laugh, dropping his hand to his side. “You’ll be happy with whatever I choose. Content, at least, as I’m sure happiness it outside your realm of emotions regarding our situation. And I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look into a home in the city. ” Destan turned then, heading back in the direction of his home, thinking that he might need to send her off to the city anyway unless he wanted her to drive him absolutely insane.
“Come on, now, I’m sure your family is ready to leave.” Destan called after her, no longer concerned to show that he was a gentleman by leading her back in. He was certainly ready for her to go, even after the short amount of time they’d spent getting acquainted.
Re: [r.krissieten!] A bad peace is even worse than a war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 5:57 pm
by Simply
She did not miss the reaction that she elicited from him. It gave her a thrill to see him visibly unnerved, though not as much as she had initially thought he might be. Throughout the rest of her life, she would be at war with this man before her. Not in the sense that there would be physical altercations, but a fight of the mind. Brushing her fingers against her own cheek, savoring the warmth that her finger had against her skin. It was calming, her own warmth. She thought she would marry someone like herself. Members of her family that were her age had described the heat that occurred between two fire elementalists when they were intimate. With him, it would be a chore.
His words made her eyebrows rise. She would be happy with whatever he chose? Well, now he was becoming bold. “Of course, husband of mine.” She responded venomously behind his back as he moved towards the house. As they retreated to hopefully part ways for at least a few months, she flicked her wrist at the fountain. Flames erupted over it, sparking and shooting. They trickled down and hissed violently, steam erupting off of the surface.
As they entered his home, her parents and his were coming out of the study that they had discussed marriage arrangements in. Coming to a stop behind him, Phedre stared at her parents. It was hard to see them laugh and smile politely at people they should have murdered immediately. In proper fashion, she clasped her hands in front of her and placed a smile on her face. It looked almost nature against her soft features, but there was a small strain at the left corner, giving her away to those that knew her.
“Phedre, darling.” Her mother said, coming to stand in front of her. “The marriage arrangements are almost complete. We have chosen a date for the union.” She turned to look at her husband, whose gaze rested firmly on his daughter. It was very hard to stand still under his harsh gaze. He merely nodded.
“Delightful,” Phedre responded in a tone much unlike the one she had used to talk to her fiancé in the gardens. “When is the date, so I might look forward to it with anticipation?” Her father scowled at her slightly, her brows coming together with irritation.
“In two weeks.” The heiress’ stomach dropped and momentarily her composure faltered. Regaining her composure, bright blue eyes turned towards the tall man just a few feet from her, trying to gauge his reaction to the news that they would begin their forever in only fourteen days time.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 6:26 pm
by Dollface
The moment they stepped into the house, Destan was sure to avoid eye contact with his parents, resting his attention idly on a portrait, all the while managing to pay attention to the conversation. Phedre’s mother spoke, and his body grew tense at the mention of their wedding – at the mention they would be married in two weeks. It was then his gaze slowly moved towards the rest of the group, eyeing his parents slowly and carefully as well as hers. He felt Phedre’s eyes on him, and he shifted his attention to her for a moment. It seemed they were both waiting for the other’s reaction.
“Two weeks.” He repeated, the words a statement as opposed to a question. “Don’t think it’s a bit soon considering the circumstances?” Although the question was posed politely, his words lacked emotion. In two weeks he was expected to uproot himself from his family home, to find and make one with the woman next to him. A light drizzle started outside, grey clouds rolling in over the home yet again.
“Destan.” His mother spoke his name and he averted his attention to her as she attempted to keep him in check. “We all find it in your best interest, and Phedre’s as well, that this is done in haste. For everyone involved—“
Clasping his hands behind his back, he rolled his eyes and thunder cracked overhead. “Everyone involved, mother, includes my future wife and I, if you’ve forgotten. There’s no need for this rush.” He was reacting with more disdain than he’d meant to, more than he’d expected to, but two weeks? Months had been on his mind, which would have been ample time to prepare himself for such a huge shift in his life. The anticipation he felt wasn’t of excitement, in fact it made him feel like his nerves were sparking again, as if he was going to jump out of his skin.
“There’s no arguing this, son.” His father’s voice now was not loud, but firm, hinting that there was not going to be any sort of discussion. Everything had been discussed, and Destan was sure if they could have they would have written it in stone so that none of their arrangements could be changed.
In an almost defeated manner, Destan dropped his arms to his sides, he mirrored Phedre’s response, “Delightful.” The rain picked up just a bit outside, ricocheting loudly off of the house and the fountains in the garden, before he turned his attention to his bride-to-be, managing a smirk. “Travel safe, dear. I would be distraught to hear of any harm coming to you before our wedding day.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 7:25 pm
by Simply
The rumble of thunder made her jump. Random storms of irritation were not something that she had been raised with. His parents did not some much as flinch at the sound, but it sped up the beat of her heart. So he did possess a great deal of power. That information was readily stored away in her mind for future use. Perhaps he would not be so easy of a target as she had initially surmised. The idea almost amused her, had she not been in the situation in which she currently resided. Raindrops began to fall on the roof and she cast a slight glance upward, returning her attention to the outburst her fiancé was currently engaging in.
“Almost as devastated as I would be, I’m certain.” She responded swiftly. Her voice was the embodiment of wifely affection, as though a practice for their time that was to come. Yet, she was shaking on the inside. Two weeks was all the time that she had left to herself, before she had to tend to a household of her own with a man she would have killed ten days ago, had they met on the streets of London. “Destan.” She inclined her head to him and then to his parents, before exiting the chateau with her parents.
The day arrived and Phedre wasn’t as nervous and wasn’t as upset and she thought she might be. The idea of their little arrangement sung at the back of her mind like a siren song and she put her heart in that. If she could survive a year and perhaps prove barren, he would quietly divorce her in an amicable manner. Then perhaps she might marry a fire bender one day and have fire bender children like she was meant to. Closing her eyes, she sat in front of the vanity in the small room that was designated as her waiting room before the ceremony.
Her dress was not traditional. It was a marriage of opposites and it would display that much. Her dress was unique in every way. Lady Whitman had employed the finest seamstresses in England, each with an elemental ability. It would be the crowning moment of the entire ceremony, meant to symbolize their union in every way. It would demonstrate to the attendants that the war was over. The upper bodice of the dress was much more reveling for the current fashion but she had it made herself and if it shocked her audience, then so be it. If she had to marry Destan Cerul, she’d damn well wear what she wanted.
Pools of blue stared back at her as she examined the painting that had occurred on her face. Black lines traced her eyelids and each lashes were lengthened and darkened. Her hair was in light waves down her back and a black accent rested in her hair. A knock on the door startled her and she looked away. Her mother entered but Phedre didn’t hear the words that the woman said to her. Her father led her out of the room. There was music in the church, the beautiful large church. She kept her eyes trained ahead as the organ music changed and announced her arrival. Inhaling slowly, Phedre followed her father’s lead as he guided her down the aisle. Fire lit the walkway with small rings of water surrounding them. Bright gaze caught sight of the man before her. He was handsome but he was a Cerul. She didn’t want to be with him. She wanted her freedom. She wanted something exciting, thrilling but above all fiery. He was… damp, dull – like water.
Her father left her and placed her hand inside that of Destan’s. His hand was cold and she was again reminded of the contrast between them. Swallowing, she turned her face upward towards his. She searched his similarly colored eyes and felt heat rise in her cheeks. They turned a soft shade of pink that looked so beautiful against her pale skin.
Without really paying much attention, Phedre responded when she was supposed to and stayed silent when required. “And now I declare you bonded for life.” The words made her heart sink and she released his hand as she had been instructed. At that moment, the attendants stood in their pews and her dress began to burn. Flames slowly licked their way up the white fabric, scorching everything in its path. The fabric didn’t disappear though, as the flames rose higher and higher a deep royal blue was left in its wake. The fabric was still soft, shimmering like water. Finally, the fire engulfed her arms and neck before extinguishing entirely. The long white lace sleeves that had been there before, vanished entirely. The dress was sleeveless, ignorant of current fashions but they were elementalists after all. Their existence defied all existing customs.
What remained before Destan would be one of the most beautiful sights he would likely ever see. Though she didn’t want to be there, Phedre felt remarkable stunning. The blue gown shimmered and rippled like water, representing her transition from a firebender to a member of the Cerul family.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 8:34 pm
by Dollface
Destan was in a haze the entirety of the two weeks prior to their ceremony. He went along with the motions of his daily life, eating his meals with his family like he was supposed to, but otherwise spending very limited time with them. His younger brother, River, was the only one that he could stand to be around, but still, Destan kept to himself mostly anyway. He was wrought with the stress of finding his new home in such a short amount of time, and moving his belongings into it once it was purchased.
On the day of the ceremony, he got ready alone, dressing himself in a suit of a blue so deep, it nearly looked black, and the shirt beneath it was a crisp white. His blonde hair, he purposely left a little unruly – it didn’t look like he’d just woken up, but he didn’t care to push it off to the side like he had the day he met Phedre.
He was distracted the entire time, even the moment that she entered the sanctuary of the beautifully decorated church. Destan’s expression was placid as he watched her saunter down the aisle, took her warm hand in his cool one and held it loosely. There was no amount of passion in the way he spoke his vows, nothing in the way that he met the blue eyes that matched his. And then it was official, they were husband and wife, which only caused him to tense up even more beside her as the ceremony came to its end. And yet, it was just the beginning for them.
What Destan wasn’t expecting as he was going to make his way towards the front of the church, was for Phedre to make a show of herself, and transform her dress in the wildest fashion. He watched her, amazed that she had managed to pull something off like that, and in that moment he couldn’t help but think about how stunning she looked as the flames traveled up her form, the white dress on her body being replaced by the sparkling blue. Immediately, as she was done, he shook that off, and he turned his shock into pure irritation.
“Are you done, or do you have any more stunts up your sleeve?” He hissed in her direction, attempting to keep his lips in a tight, bright smile all the while. “Or shall I expect you to set any of our guests on fire? Perhaps yourself?” Once more, Destan found he was offering her his arm to take, immediately uncomfortable with the warmth yet again. Is this what he was going to have to deal with the rest of his life? Constantly being uncomfortable around her if he was close enough? Granted, he didn’t plan on keeping so close to her, and thankfully they wouldn’t be sharing a bed as husband and wife were expected, so he didn’t have to worry about that at least. She was quite literally a human furnace, and he wasn’t sure he could stand that every single night.
Bride and groom led the way out of the church, and they were met with their carriage to their new home. Somehow, he’d managed to find a home large enough so that the two of them would manage to avoid each other in their day to day lives. He furnished most of the rooms to his own tastes, and hers as well as he possibly could. Many of the rooms were filled with blues of different shades, light greens, white, beige – but her room was different, suited more to her liking. Destan figured he could offer her that much if she was meant to live somewhere that she didn’t entirely want to. It was a gesture far beyond what he could have done, and though it was tempting to give her the draftiest room their home had, he wouldn’t be entirely unkind.
For now, though, she would not see the room until much later on, once all of their guests had left after the celebration of their wedded bliss.
Everyone arrived in a timely manner, and once Destan and Phedre made their grand entrance into the new garden at their home, they were expected to make the rounds and greet the attendants. Many were already meandering with flutes of champagne, admiring all that Destan had managed to accomplish on his own estate in such a timely manner. As Destan began to part from some distant family member of his, he felt a hand at his back, and initially tensed until he realized that the hand was not warm, but cool like his own, heavy.
“Hello there, brother, what a lovely ceremony that was,” Brunien spoke with a bemused lilt to his words, and as he came around Destan took note of the fact he himself had found the champagne as well. Brunien’s hair was a white blonde, eyes bright as they settled on the blonde at his brother’s side. “You must be the wonderful Phedre, how wonderful to finally meet you.” His grin was wide, almost teasing, but his words were biting and definitely betrayed how he truly felt about his brother’s union with this fire bending girl.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 9:04 pm
by Simply
His disgust at the theatrics of her dress caused the anger in her chest to tighten. It hardened into a firm ball in her ribcage, making it hard to breathe. Phedre and her mother had gone through a great deal of effort and money to create something so magical for them, but he did not appreciate it in the slightest. A frown rested on her lips for the simplest of seconds. The awe and murmurs of the crowd though, expressed their appreciation for her efforts and calmed her enough to walk down the aisle with a man she utterly despised.
The rounds they made to each member of their guest list (which was extensive to say the very least) were tiring but they were nearing the end of the matter. Surprised played on her features with the white blond hair of a Cerul appeared before her. The resemblance was there, but fleetingly she thought that she had preferred the soft blond of Destan’s locks. The thought was pushed away rapidly. Good thoughts about her husband were idiotic. The way he said her name made her nervous. She glanced upward at her husband momentarily before placing the characteristic Whitman smile on her face.
“You must be Brunien, my husband’s elder brother.” She said, not really asking a question in the statement. It was evident whom he was by the way Destan tensed almost imperceptibly. Interesting. “Lady Cerul.” Phedre acknowledged, inclining her head to the woman with the blonde-haired man. The woman smiled politely and made some excuse to step away from her husband and his brother. Well, that went well with her new sister-in-law. “I know that this meeting must have been something you highly anticipated, dear brother.” She responded, calling him affectionately as they were now related by her new marriage to Destan.
“Though,” her lips pursed slightly, as though she was thinking of something, before continuing of him, “I thought I heard that you were not going to attend our perfect union. Yet, I am so very pleased that you had a change of heart. As a Cerul myself now, I cannot wait to meet every single member of my new family.” The venom was evident in her words. She had no desire to be a member of the water bending family and even less longing to meet them. “Now, if you will excuse us, we have a few other guests to interact with. It has been such a pleasure, brother.” She leaned forward, raised herself onto her tiptoes and pressed her cheek against his, pretending to kiss his cheek. To anyone looking, it would have appeared that the bride was welcoming her brother-in-law so kindly.
Phedre turned, gently guiding her husband with her as their arms were interlocked once more. They spoke to a few more of their relatives and guests before seating themselves. Toasts were made and food was served. Guests begin to mingle once more and then bright eyes noticed that her brother hurriedly went inside her new home with people at his table snickering and pointing as he retreated. The woman’s brow furrowed and she excused herself, following him. When she caught up with him, she noticed that his trousers were soaked with water, making him look incontinent. He stared at her and began to make excuses, saying it was fine, that he was ready to leave anyway. The carriage was just outside for him, he protested but he could see the fire burning in his sister’s eyes. The Cerul didn’t mean anything by it. He was just playing a prank, nothing more. It was just a new older brother teasing his new sibling.Maxillary teeth grinded against their opponents and she exhaled slowly. “I will murder him for this.” She hissed and retreated back outside, sapphire dress swishing behind her. When she returned, she was intercepted by her parents. They defused the situation, temporarily, and announced that the couple would be departing for the evening in half an hour.
As she took her seat next to her husband, she smiled at him. Placing one warm hand against his cheek, the bride pulled the groom’s face towards her. Coral lips pressed against his ear. “We need to talk about that brother of yours, husband.” She whispered, clearly distressed and the fury leaking into her tone. As she withdrew, one of the ladies passing their table giggled and approached.
“Now you two, save that passion for your wedding night. I can see we will have a Cerul heir in no time.” The lady said obliviously.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 9:36 pm
by Dollface
Destan had no care to make niceties with his brother currently, so when his new wife was the one to greet him, the Cerul let her continue while he sipped at his own drink in hand. Even if he himself wasn’t happy with their union, it was amusing to hear the way that she spoke to Brunien – and it was equally amusing to see the reaction to her biting words. Just because he was blood didn’t mean that Destan was particularly fond of his older brother. He tried so hard to look unamused at Phedre’s response as he admired the beautiful glass in his hand – the flutes for the bride and groom were decorated ornately, with beautiful etchings along the base, a sapphire hue that faded from the middle of the glass down to through the stem, and was rimmed at the top with gold.
“Enjoy the rest of your stay, Brunien. Behave yourself, please,” Destan added with a smile, before he was whisked off by his wife to greet more members of their families.
He was blissfully unaware of his brother’s antics as he had finally seated himself at his table to eat something before they were meant to leave. Destan was not responsible for Brunien, so he did not keep an eye on him. Instead, he picked at his food, and every now and then someone came to speak to him briefly and offer their best wishes and congratulations to the groom and the bride. When Phedre excused herself for a moment, Destan thought nothing important, assuming there was someone she wanted to give her full attention to for the time being.
Leaning back in his seat and watching the guests, it was his wife who caught his eyes as she was making her way back towards him. For whatever reason, she looked terribly livid, and if he were any other person he might have been frightened. Destan sat up straight, holding her gaze until she sat beside him, sipping again from his glass. Phedre was hot with rage beside him, her touch on his cheek and her lips against his ear warmed – mixing with the alcohol in his system, it brought on a new kind of warmth for the time being, and he wasn’t particularly uncomfortable.
That was, until she brought up his brother. A groan started to form in his throat, but he stopped himself, instead he ground his teeth together and set his jaw while he met her eyes again. Seemingly ignoring the flippant response by the woman who passed them, all he did was send a flick of his eyes in her direction before her own drink went splashing onto her outfit, and she was none the wiser.
“Phedre, dear,” he started quietly, taking her hand in his own, pressing his cool lips against her warm knuckles, looking to the guests as if he was reassuring her, “what has he done? Has he tried to seduce you?” His eyebrow raised in his direction, but something about her expression read that this was no joking matter. “I will say this once – I’m not my brother’s keeper.” He squeezed her hand before he dropped it, and began to scan their guests before he found his brother in the crowd. Brunien seemed to be whispering something to their youngest brother, laughing boastfully.
Lifting a hand, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it neatly behind her ear. “I’m sure whatever he’s done, he’ll receive it tenfold. I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing I can do about him, short of drowning him with his own drink, but I’m not sure my parents would appreciate that on such a lovely occasion. Not to mention, it doesn’t help that he would know and be able to stop it instantly.” He added that last bit as a mumble, sighing as well. It wasn’t as though Destan expected this to truly be a wonderful day, but the last thing he wanted – or needed – was Brunien creating even more disdain between their families.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 10:02 pm
by Simply
As she withdrew, her attention momentarily focused on the woman that passed them. It only swelled the tide of her anger and she fought extremely hard not to light the woman’s hat on fire and watch the trail burn down to her scalp. Fortunately for that foolish guest, Destan distracted her with the coolness of his touch. Her attention drifted back to him, the blaze of heat still present on her skin. The sound of her name on his lips was unpleasant and she knew that this was not the best way to start their marriage but…did that matter? He knew what he was getting into with her and she was well aware that there was no love on his side for her either.
“You made a request of me on the day that we met, the day I agreed to marry you.” Her words were soft, yet their tone contrasted with the smiling expression on her face. Phedre could play the game of the doting wife, but her words did not have to match the demeanor she outwardly portrayed to them. “You said you were not here as my keeper, but asked that I be courteous towards your people. It was all you asked of me and I consented. How dare you not hold your people to the same standards. I am your wife now. We are family and I expect my family to be treated with the same level of respect that I show to your despicable relatives.” The hiss of her voice came across the space between them, carrying the sweet scent of lavender infused champagne filling the space between them.
Startled by his fingers on her face, she could not hide the surprise in her eyes. “It would be alcohol, my love,” she said the word with the opposite emotion emphasizing it, “I could light it on the way down and our problem would be solved.” Phedre could not help but smirk at the idea, but knew it was merely a dream that would never be fulfilled. Leaning closer to him, she met his gaze purposefully. “ Darling husband, this conversation is not over. You can’t dissipate my anger so readily, especially when you seem to think that my displeasure is a joking matter.” Her warm finger trailed along his jaw and stopped right beneath his chin. Delicately, her thumb stroked just below his lower lip, cradling his chin between her forefinger and thumb. To anyone else, it appeared to be a gesture of two individuals in love. To Destan, the touch was close to burning him.
“Beloved family, guests,” her father intoned as the music died down, “we appreciate all of your support in the union of our children. The Ceruls and Whitmans will hold this day in the highest regard for all of the years to come. This is a herald of peace that will usher in prosperity and peace for all our people. Please, join me in celebrating our children as they depart.”
He rose and motioned to Phedre and Destan to do the same. The bride smiled and released her gentle grasp on her husband’s face. She rose from her seat, and took her husband’s arm. Smiling, she nodding her head in acceptance and appreciation of her father’s words. “Come husband, we have so much to do on our wedding night.” She whispered, venomously. “We can’t let that woman down, now can we? Heirs must be produced.” They turned their backs to the party and entered their home for the first time as man and wife.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 10:29 pm
by Dollface
Phedre’s words in his ear were practically poisonous and at the mention of them being family, he had to hold himself back from physically recoiling at the notion. She did raise a very good point, it would be unfair for him to expect her to act in a particular way, but not treat his brother in the same fashion. It did delve deeper than that, however, as he was simply sick of his older brother even though he had been gone from their home for a while now. So, at the mention that she could light the alcohol in his throat on fire, he almost entertained the idea that wasn’t half bad.
It was awful that he thought so little of his brother, and so he shook that from his head, suddenly distracted once more with Phedre’s closeness to himself. To anyone else, he was certain it looked like they were whispering longingly to one another, but there was a thick tension ricocheting between them as they conversed. “What ever will you do for me thinking so little of your displeasure? I’m terribly sorry,” he murmured, the words lacking the empathy that that he should have been offering her. Not to mention, he was a little bit tipsy from the alcohol, and he was entirely focused on the way her thumb brushed against his lower lip, her touch biting, eliciting a short and cold breath from him.
Faced with reality again, it was her father’s words that turned his attention away from his beloved wife. A smile stretched over his lips, and he stood as instructed, taking his wife on his arm and sneakily lifting his glass of champagne from the table to bring along with him. If Destan was to endure a full on conversation with his wife, in their home, alone, he was going to need this.
“Perhaps, instead, I’ll simply drink this place dry and we won’t have a chance to consummate our marriage,” he whispered to her, lifting his glass and grinning as they passed their guests and made their way into their new home (with absolutely no intention of sharing his bed with Phedre tonight, anyway). There were still some portraits and furniture to arrive, but their rooms were completely ready for them. For now, Destan led the way into what was meant to be their bedroom, but would only be his as she requested her own, which he was more than content with.
As they entered his room, Destan shut the door behind Phedre. He didn’t assume anyone would be roaming around the upstairs at all, and most of the servants would be down attending to the wedding, but if they were going to have a discussion, no one else needed to hear anything of it. “So, are you ever going to tell me what it was that Brunien did? If you’d like me to hold him to the same regards, I will speak to him, but I can’t do anything about it if you’re going to make glaring accusations about my brother.” Destan lifted a brow in her direction, turning his back to her as he walked the length of the room to set his half-full champagne glass on a small table beside his bed.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 10:52 pm
by Simply
Phedre did not fail to notice the soft breath that she brought forth from his lips. It excited her, to put him so much on edge with her touch. It kept her smiling all the way towards the door, when he spoke about drinking himself into a stupor. “By all means, Destan. If there is anything that I have to say about this union, it will not be consummated for a long while.” She murmured in response. Bright blue eyes turned from him as they navigated the expansive space of her new home. If she was one to say kind words to him, she might have complimented him on the exquisite decoration of the rooms.
They parted arms at the top of the stairs and she followed slowly after him, until he entered a room. The door clicked gently closed behind her and all of her amazement at her new home vanished. Rage replaced it almost immediately with the mention of his brother’s name. Flames erupted around her hands, burning blue. It caused the gown she was adorned in to shimmer, sparkling in the light of her power. “Glaring accusations?” She whirled on him, looking at him from her position before the bed.
“Do you think I just decided to fabricate a problem with your brother? Do you truly think so little of me so swiftly?” She laughed, the flames licking up her arms, swirling and spitting as they accelerated with her fury. “I do not demand your respect. I do not even ask for you to take pleasure in my presence, but I do expect your family to follow the agreement that our parents set forth for us.” He turned his back then and her temper flared. A spark darted out and hit the small tapestry beside his head. “Do not turn your back on me, Destan.”
Swallowing, she stepped out of her wedding slippers and took a few steps towards him. Her voice rose slightly. “Your brother bended water so that my brother would sit upon it, making it appear that he was incontinent. He is only a child. He has no place in this.” Her voice was firm on the last two sentences. Still, Destan appeared to not be taking this matter seriously. He was flippant in his responses and clearly thought that what was important to her was not worthy of his undivided attention. The alcohol remaining in his glass burst into flames, shooting upward before settling out, having eliminated its fuel source.
“He did it to ridicule my brother – the only remaining heir to the Whitman name, the only one to pass on the ability of controlling fire. And he made him the center of ridicule. You will speak with him on this. You will make him respectful or I will deal with him.” Narrowing her eyes, she examined his face. “What? Never seen a woman take a stand against her husband before? I do not plan to be your docile little wife.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 11:22 pm
by Dollface
“Phedre,” he began with a sigh, a tiredness to his voice already having to deal with this situation. Perhaps it was the heat, or the alcohol, or the hours he had to deal with so many people today, but he felt a twinge of pain beginning at his brow, and listening to her wasn’t helping. Just as he was to turn around to face her, the spark whirled past his head onto the tapestry that hung on the wall, and he whirled around, his icy gaze on her. “How dare you,” he snapped, stalking back towards her and meeting the young woman halfway as she stepped out of her shoes to move towards him.
“So what would you like to do about it, my dear wife? Set his trousers on fire? Set his carriage ablaze on their way home? Have at it!” He responded flippantly, raising his arms in slight exasperation. Another trail of flames blazed past him and into his glass of champagne, and now Destan was beyond frustrated with her. It was only because there were still many people outside celebrating their union that he wasn’t entirely flooding their estate.
His wife was testing him. To Destan, it was as if she wanted to see how far she could push him before he cracked, and he was very close to that tipping point currently as she questioned what he expected from her. Destan stepped close, not quite closing the distance between them, and took both arms into his hands, his fingers cold as they grasped her. “Bite your tongue,” he hissed at her, eyes narrowed on hers as he held her gaze firmly, “while docile is never the word I would use to describe you, don’t you dare speak to me in such a way.”
Destan wasn’t particularly angry, but he wasn’t happy with her either at this moment – if only for the fact that she’d set fire to something he’d just purchased. Perhaps it was materialistic of him to think like that, but this was all hers too now, and he’d be damned if she thought so little of it to ruin it only hours after they’d wed.
Taking in a deep breath, he brought his frustration down a notch before he responded to her curtly, “I will speak to Brunien and assure nothing will happen to your brother again. He is… family, now, after all.” Not to mention, Destan had no vendetta against the Whitman boy, and though he wasn’t fond of the fire bender people still, Phedre still seemed very protective over him and he would not be able to ignore that. She made sure he knew that.
“I am not close to my brother as you are to yours, Phedre, you must understand that now. Other than our blood, there is no binding relationship to him other than what obligation that I have.” Destan’s words were clipped, but calmer now, and the grip on her arms loosened only slightly. “I promise you, I will speak to him promptly, and I will offer an apology to your brother myself. Does that please you?” His hair hung down across his forehead, his dark brows rose as his eyes searched hers for any sign that she might be calming down herself. Although he hadn’t expected much from their wedding night, he also hadn’t thought this would be the outcome either.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 11:40 pm
by Simply
“That’s not a bad idea.” She retorted, momentarily imagining the idea of Brunien running around trying to put out his trousers, though it would be simple for him to extinguish them with his gifts. Perhaps his carriage…he might faint from the smoke inhalation and burn to death as a result. His firm hands wrapped around her slender arms and she inhaled sharply, startled that he had grasped her in such a manner. “Let go of me!” The demand was sharp but quickly lost amongst his hiss of words. His touch burned her with how cold it was, ironically. Swallowing, she glared at him and tried to strengthen her resolve.
His lack of anger was still infuriating, fueling her inner fire. How could he stand there and merely snarl at her without growing angry? Phedre’s heart raced in her chest, pounding with the ferocity of a battering ram. Electricity raced up her arms where he held her and served as adrenaline to her. She had not planned for him to touch her in any capacity this night and she had to admit that it unnerved her.
The peace offering was something that appealed to her. It was a generous offer. He was addressing the situation and offering a solution to the dilemma that she had laid at his feet. “Fine.” She murmured, simply and bluntly. “Fine, but I will not have him in my house until he apologizes to me. I do not like his, Destan. It is difficult enough with this,” her eyes slipped down to his hand on her arm, “but to have to deal with him.” Something about Brunien grated on her immediately and she knew that she would dislike him until her dying breath.
That problem resolved, there was the new one of his hands on her arms and this being their wedding night. When her eyes rose from looking away, she met his gaze. “Husband, do you plan on releasing me…” Her voice grew into a purr, soft and delicate as she knew was pleasant to a man. “Or were you planning to use your hands for husbandly duties on our wedding night?” It was meant to unnerve him. He had not risen to her challenge, to her anger, as she had intended. If she could not do this, then she would find another way to put him off balance.
Phedre was not a seductress and she was not manipulative by nature, but something about a Cerul brought out the worst in her. The idea of a water bender as her husband made her want to battle him – if not physically, then mentally. The battle of wits, the battle to make him cave beneath her superior abilities.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2015 11:57 pm
by Dollface
“If it assures you more, I don’t particularly like him either.” That was one thing they had in common at the very least, their dislike for Brunien. Phedre should have been glad that she was only related to him through their marriage and hadn’t had to deal with the eldest Cerul for the last nineteen years of her life. “You have my word that he will not step foot in this house until I’ve spoken with him, and if I can help it, he won’t have to step foot here ever again.” At this point, his tone was much calmer now, his words almost warm and smooth once more as he spoke to the young woman in front of him.
His wife. Phedre was his wife. Stomach knotting at this thought, she made mention of this at the next chance, her words soft and so close to him. Destan knew well what she was doing, using her sensuality in an attempt to crack him, in an attempt to fall to her will. While slightly unnerved by the way that she was acting towards him, he thought it was best to use it to his advantage. “Oh, Phedre,” he signed, his hands slowly dropping from her arms as he took her delicate waist gently into his grasp just to bring her a half a step closer to him.
Then, he lifted his hand to her face, the touch gentle yet requesting her attention. His thumb brushed close to her pink lips before he moved to push her hair back from her face once more. “You underestimate me, love,” he whispered, dropping his face close to hers. “I had absolutely no plans whatsoever of offering that pleasure tonight.” With every word spoken, his lips were just a breath away from hers.
He gave her waist a gentle squeeze before he stepped back, removing all direct contact from her. “Your room is ready, in fact. Would you like me to show you to it?” The grin he wore was not too confident, he made sure of it, just so that he didn’t elicit any sort of awful reaction from Phedre. The last thing he needed was his trousers set on fire in retaliation towards her. “Could I offer you some more champagne to finish off the evening? Perhaps you could enjoy it and draw a bath for yourself to… calm your nerves.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 12:14 am
by Simply
The way her name exhaled off of his lips was not what she had been expecting. For all her strengths, she was incapable of preventing the way her breath from hitching noticeably in her throat as his hands knowledgeably traveled their way down to her waist. The fabric crafted just for their wedding night crumpled gently beneath his touch. In the furthest recesses of her mind, something tremored to life. The awakening startled her, but that she was able to force down as his other hand caressed the soft flesh of her face.
His mouth closed the distance between them, hesitating just a breath away. It was impossible for her to keep her gaze on his at all times and it dropped, taking in the soft curve of his upper lip. Damn. He was much better at this game than she had anticipated, though it was not well calculated on her own part. Phedre had never been with a man in any capacity so intimate at this. Oh, of course she could flirt and say all the right innuendos to lead a man on. She was a proper lady, however and would never tarnish her reputation with something a frivolous as taking a lover. The Whitmans would have burned her alive for something so foolish.
A male on the other hand. He had no obvious, physical manifestation of the loss of one’s virtue and so it was likely that he had practiced more in their area than she had. Foolish, but she would not give up so easily. “Underestimate you, darling?” She cooed, finally regaining her own composure with the final squeeze of the curve of her body. “I think I have actually given you far too much credit.” She allowed the matter to drop for a moment. The lilt of her voice remained steady and indulgent, as breathy as a lover’s whisper in the night. As he continued speaking, she began to take the pins out of her hair. With each one that she removed, another curl tumbled down her back, bouncing delicately against the blue wedding gown.
Finally finished, she placed the pins beside the half-consumed champagne flute he had brought with him (which was now devoid of any alcoholic content thanks to her anger.) “Please do. A glass of Riesling would do me well in my bath, I think.” She gestured for him to lead the way and she followed him towards the door. They walked in silence down the long hallway to the other end of the grand manor. As they walked, she could still feel the marked coolness on his skin from where he had touched her. It lingered far longer than she had anticipated. As he paused before the door to her chambers, she also came to a stop. “It is a pity that I judged you correctly.” She echoed the words she had murmured in his bedroom. A sigh escaped her lips, clearly theatrical but evidently conveying his wistful thoughts.
“I see that you are inept in more than just observational skills.” She cast a glance at her bedroom door before her azure gaze caught his in a sidelong fashion. Black lashes evident against her pale cheeks only made her eyes all the more intriguing. “It is a pity that it is a generalized trait after all.” For a millisecond, she allowed her gaze to drop downward towards his trousers before tilting her head upward to meet his eyes.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 12:40 am
by Dollface
Truthfully, Destan was not certain at all how Phedre would react to his lilting words against her lips. He caught the way her distracted gaze dropped to his own mouth, and it took all he had in him not to grin just at that single glance. Destan might not have had many lovers, but he did know well enough how to treat a woman, how to tease a little, how to speak in such a way that he might have them right in the palm of his hand.
But not Phedre. She was quite possibly the most strong willed woman he’d ever come across.
He grinned then, at her response to him, and as she carefully let her blonde locks fall to frame her face – rather beautifully, at that – and he took the time to remove his own shoes from his feet and let the jacket fall from his shoulders. “Of course, dear,” he replied, perhaps feigning cheer a little exuberantly, “I would be more than happy.” That was a vast overstatement, but despite that, he led the way, and began to roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows.
It would be so, so easy for him to take her bait. After all, a woman who spoke ill of him like that would easily cause a man embarrassment, and for a moment he felt a flush of heat rush to his cheeks. He abandoned it quickly, resolving only to continue to play her game. Opening the door, he allowed her to step ahead of him into the room decorated in golds, reds, burgundies – the colors that might make her feel a little more comfortable. Destan followed her into the room then, stepping up behind her carefully. “You know nothing of what you speak,” he whispered close to her ear as his hands fell to find that same spot at her waist to rest. While he spoke, his hands moved to the buttons that adorned the back of her dress, and toyed with the top one, not daring to undo it as not to make her entirely uncomfortable.
“I simply don’t want to force you, or myself for that matter, into any situation we’re expected out of our duty to one another.” The young man shrugged his shoulders. “Let me draw your bath quick. Will you need help with your dress and its multitude of buttons?” His voice was still low against her ear, but he moved then, stepping away from her and across the chambers towards where the bath was located. Phedre might have been snarky and quick in her responses, but Destan supposed he had a sort of physical advantage to her that she seemed… somewhat lacking in.
In a moment’s time, the bath was full with water, and thankfully was right to assume that she might want some more champagne once they retired to the manor for the night. The chilled champagne was in a small basin with ice, and he took a glass and filled it up for himself as well at that moment, then her glass as well. “Your bath is ready,” he called, even as he began to make his way back towards the main area of her room with both glasses in hand, “I hope you don’t mind terribly, but I do think I’ll be retiring to my own room for the night.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 1:00 am
by Simply
The room revealed itself to her and she was immediately flooded with reds and gold, reminiscent of her room at the Whitman estate. It was difficult to hide her surprise at it. Everything else in the entirety of the house had been variations of blues and seas greens. Some of the glass was even tinted with the color of the sky, jewels inset around them ranging from navy to cobalt. Yet here….here in her space, she could be at home. She could feel as though she was cradled in the loving, fierce embrace of her people. It nearly took her breath away, this gesture of kindness.
It would have taken her breath away if she had not been so stubborn. She was reluctant to admit that he might be a good man. After all, for nearly the past two decades she had been instructed. Each lesson included a careful reminder that the Ceruls and all their water abominations were lesser humans. They were cruel and harsh and needlessly killed her family. It was hard for her mind to balance those years of instruction with what he had shown her so far. It made her entirely uneasy.
The thoughts were shattered like a breaking mirror the moment his hand pressed against her waist and his lips brushed against the curve of her ear. The sharp inhalation would not go unnoticed by him, even though she attempted to exhaling slowly to mask the astonishment. He was too well versed in this game. Phedre chastised herself for attempting to battle him in a game of seduction when her own had never gone further than a stolen kiss or a brief moment in a narrow hallway. She’d be damned if she didn’t attempt to retaliate though.
The manner in which his fingers fondled the buttons of her dress sent a shiver down her spine. The faintest brush of his fingertips grazed her neck and gooseflesh erupted beneath them, evident as her hair was brushed to the side. Did her body have to betray her so?! Then he departed to draw her bath and she placed a hand on the upper part of her abdomen when he wasn’t looking. Steady. She told herself. “Oh, my heart,” she called him, smiling once she had lowered her hand back to her side. “You could never force me to do anything I didn’t want.” The threat was there, just beneath the surface.
At his offer to leave, she wanted to hurriedly accept and slip into the bathwater, but that would be far too simple, too kind to him. “ If you so desire. I suppose I can figure a way out of this dress on my own.” She took the glass from him and brought it to her lips, taking a slow sip. Both hands rested on the glass she held in front of her. “Thank you for showing me to my chambers. They are delightfully decorated. I appreciate that.” The last sentence was genuine, but it wasn’t the last words that she would say to him. Turning her back to him as though she could care less what he did with himself for the remainder of the evening, Phedre continued to speak.
“I did not expect much, though, husband. So do you fear that you are letting me down in any way.” The glass was placed on the wooden table beside the bath. She dipped a finger in the water slowly and found it far too cold for her liking. Swirling the water around, steam began to rise off of it within a few moments. “The maladroit nature of Cerul men is well known and I was adequately forewarned.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 1:26 am
by Dollface
There was no ignoring the reaction he was able to draw from her with the touch of his hand at her waist, the brush of his lips so close to her ear. It was interesting to see in what aspect Phedre had more weight in her words than her actions. Destan found it fun in a way, amusing – at least they weren’t trying to fight or harm each other in any way currently. He had to wonder just what she might request of him at the moment he offered to leave her alone and explore his new home before he retreated to his own bedroom for the night. What a strange thought, that they would be spending their wedding night apart, and yet it still seemed entirely natural. After all, they’d only formally met two weeks prior.
It was nice to hear the genuine appreciation about the decorations in her room, he would admit. “You’re welcome, I suppose it’s the least I could do for you, if you’re meant to stay here now.” He gave a wave of his hand, gesturing about the room while he took another sip from his glass. Destan began to make his way towards the door that was cracked open now, not thinking to offer her a good night, but he stopped as her soft voice touched his ears yet again.
So she had to have the last word, did she? As he wasn’t facing her for the time being, he grinned for a second, before letting the expression fall as he turned back in her direction. Destan wasn’t sure what to do: should he walk away at that point, let her assume whatever she wanted to assume? Destan had nothing to prove to his wife, and in a physical manner, he did not plan to do that anytime soon, as he’d already promised her.
He weighed his options for a moment, before he set his glass down again and made his way towards her, coming to stand at her side. Destan’s hand reached around her back, his eyes steady on her as he found that first button that was settled at the top of her wedding gown. He undid it, carefully, before he moved on to the next one. “Whoever you’ve been speaking to must know my poor brother Brunien, then, and I suppose tonight he ensured that you would never have him in your bed,” he spoke with amusement, watching her to gauge her reaction as he continued on with the buttons to her gown, every now and then his fingertips lightly brushing her warm skin.
“Don’t forget, you did not expect your room to be done up so nicely. So far, I think I’ve managed to exceed whatever small limit of expectations you’ve set for me, Phedre.” Once he reached the last button on her dress, he lifted his hand and brought her chin up with his thumb and forefinger. “Now, enjoy your bath. I want nothing more than for you to relax, we’ve had such a long day, after all.” He paused, a smirk tilting his mouth up on one side, “unless, of course my dear wife, you would like my help with that as well?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 1:41 am
by Simply
Her back was to him with her final words completed. Surely, he would roll his eyes about and leave her to her bath, in peace for the first time that day. It would be so pleasant to slip into the warm water and allow it to caress her, drawing her worries away for the briefest of moments. Her eyes were trained on the steam rising from the pool she was going to submerge herself in, when she heard the soft clink of glass being placed down. The coolness of his body was beside her in moments and she restrained herself from stiffening in surprise. Bloody hell He had no hesitation, no limits were in place for him. Phedre had sorely underestimated him and it pained her to admit that, even to herself.
Then his fingers were upon her.
Dear god. Once again her body betrayed her, but only to herself this time. The pit of her stomach tightened and quivered as cool air began to dance across her back with each button that was undone. Phedre swallowed hard, her throat raw and her mouth parched. He was a formidable opponent and she conceded that point as his fingertips barely feathered her skin. Gooseflesh followed the trail, drawing upwards against her white skin as he trailed downwards, ever lower. The buttons paused just above her bottom. The straps kept the dress up, but as he reached the last button he could clearly see the delicate chemise she wore underneath. What was she to do?
Thoughts jumbled about in her mind and raced so swiftly she feared a headache would begin. “With how you boast about your skills in the bedchamber, how could I even consider taking another lover, especially your elder brother?” Her voice was even quieter now and not just in an attempt to seduce him and win this match they were in. It was feeble and she knew that if she spoke any louder that her voice would have an audible tremor.
Their eyes met directly with his guidance on her face. Phedre made her gaze express all the things that she was too inept to do with her body. Hunger reflected there and she made certain to linger on his lips for effect. He released her chin and asked a very daring question. Unlike him, she did have something to prove. If she lost the first battle in this war, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. She stepped back from him and dropped her dress to the ground. It pooled around her feet like a small puddle, shimmering in the dim light of her room. The chemise was fuller coverage than she typically wore and she thanked every star in the sky for that. The straps were thin but the fabric was thick, only giving the hint of the gently curves that resided beneath it. She leaned back on the rim of the bathtub, resting her bottom gently on the porcelain, placing her hands on either side of her. For a moment, she looked away from him and at the water in the bath before raising her gaze towards his. She could not hold out much longer. Her stomach knotted and she was grateful for the small distance that was between them now. “That would be so kind of you, Destan, though the water may be hotter than you can handle.” She held his gaze then, resolutely. “Especially once I get in.”
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 2:18 am
by Dollface
Destan didn’t know how much longer he could hold out playing this game.
There was no denying Phedre’s beauty, she was certainly alluring in spite of everything he despised about her. Along with that, the champagne was going to his head, which is probably why he was acting so confident with his new bride. Destan’s blue eyes watched her pointedly, as she brushed her gown from her shoulders to reveal the shorter chemise that covered her loosely. To mask the own hitch in his breath, he lifted the champagne glass to his mouth once again, taking a longer sip than he had at any point in the evening.
At the last words she offered him, he almost choked, and visibly sputtered for a second before he recovered. Of course, this had to be the moment that he reacted to her, and he scolded himself internally for it. With a shake of his head, the young man stood closer to her, and reached for one of her hands to bring to his lips. “Perhaps you’re right,” he offered against her skin, before dropping her hand, “I’ll allow you to enjoy your first night in our home by yourself.” With that, he pressed a kiss to one cheek, and then the next, before he retreated from her entirely. “Good night, Phedre,” he called out over his shoulder, and then disappeared out of her bedroom for the rest of the evening.
Once he left the room, closing the door with a click of finality, he breathed a sigh of relief. How could it be that his resolve was almost so easily broken by the fire bending girl? Was it the challenge? Was it the fact he felt as though her hatred for him mingled with something else?
He was curious, to say the least.
Instead of wandering their chateau, he walked the length of the hall to the wing where his own room was. Even with the help of the alcohol, he was all too aware of the fact he was sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar room, for the first time, and entirely alone with only Phedre at the opposite end of the home. More than once throughout the night as he fought to sleep, he wondered if she had the same issue. At some point, those thoughts drifted from his mind entirely as he finally got comfortable enough and dozed off, now unaware that he would sleep far later than usual.
As Destan woke late – and began to rush to ready himself for the day to meet his new wife downstairs in the dining hall for their first breakfast together – Brunien had already made the trip towards his brother’s home to offer Destan and his new bride the wedding gift he had not brought yesterday, as he saw it ‘too impersonal,’ or so he’d told his wife.
The elder Cerul exited his carriage, gift in tow, to enter through the gate between the hedges in front of Destan’s manor. Once on the front step, he reached for the large door fixture, knocking three times. When the door wasn’t promptly answered (to his liking, as he was rather impatient), he knocked three more times, wondering just how his brother hadn’t come to the door yet…
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 2:40 am
by Simply
“Goodnight, husband.” She whispered. The moment the door clicked, she dropped down to her knees beside the bathroom and leaned her back against it. Phedre’s body began to tremble and she left out something that resembled a sob. Shakily, she rose and undressed the rest of the way. The extreme heat of the water soothed her as she climbed in and soon the quiver in her limbs ceased. How had he managed to have such an effect on her? Long fingers grasped the stem of her champagne flute and downed the rest of the golden, bubbling liquid inside. As she washed herself, careful to keep her tendrils from touching the water, she thought of him. His abilities were far superior than she had anticipated – he could be gentle, soft, and…kind. The room that she now resided in was proof of that. It was exactly as she would have decorated it herself. Damn.
The lady had always preferred to dry herself and dress herself at bedtime. It wasn’t customary but she preffered it and they had dismissd all the servants from the upstairs for the night of their wedding. After all, Phedre wasn’t sure who was in her father’s employ and it would not do for them to report back that the wedding night had occurred with the newlyweds sleeping in different rooms. That would end with an audience. Pinning up her hair for the evening, she climbed beneath the thick comforter of burgundy with the white and gold thread snaking across it like flames. With the covers settling around her, she knew she would fall right asleep.
How wrong she was.
Her mind wandered to her husband. When she closed her eyes to will herself to dreamland, she could feel the ice of his touch against her neck and the warmth of his breath against her ear, fanning out down the length of her clavicle. Somewhere between feeling the buttons on her gown loosen and the gentle way he said her name, Phedre managed to drift off.
The sun streamed in through the curtains that she had forgotten to close. That was enough to awaken her early in the morning. She rang for one of her handmaidens and they promptly arrived. One began to clean the bath that she had left unattended that evening and the other chose a soft gold gown for her and dressed her in it. Her hair was plaited softly down her back and she chose to take her breakfast in the dining hall, so that she could become accustomed to her new home.
As she descended the stairs, someone presented themselves at the door. A man in a butler’s uniform looked quizzically at her. Clearly he would normally seek Destan’s approval, but as his lord was not yet risen, Phedre had command of the home. With a gentle nod of her head, she allowed it as she passed by the door and into the dining room. Already a place was set for her and eggs, toast and cheeses were placed out on the table. Her back was to the opening of the dining room as one of the manservants was about to draw out her chair. His voice broke the peace in the room.
“Dearest sister.” It was not said enthusiastically and her back straightened as stiffly as if someone had bound a rod to her spine. Brunien.
“Brother.” She intoned in the same fashion, turning around to face him. The manservant stepped back and stilled, waiting for her command to draw her chair out once more. “What brings you to my home?”
“A gift! For the happy couple.” He placed it at the end of the long table, smiling at her in a way that said he was anything but pleased. He made her uneasy. He was larger than Destan in an unattractive manner and his white hair made him appear older than he was. Phedre maintained her composure…at first.
“Our appreciation. My husband is still abed.”
“Wore him out last night did you?” He asked, and redness rose to her cheeks. The flames of her anger were rekindled.
“I do not see how my marriage night is any of your business.”
“Ah, no matter. I doubt it was terribly eventful. Stamina decreases with each child.” The addition made her uneasy and she recalled how she had insulted the Cerul men in the same fashion last night. Destan, however, had made the opposite claim. When he did it, her breath had caught in her throat. When Brunien did, she grew uneasy and very angry. If anyone was going to insult her husband, it was going to be a Whitman. She chose to ignored his comment.
“Again, our appreciation for the gift.”
“Might I break my fast with you?” He asked, boldly.
“I do not think that would be wise, brother of mine.” The smile of her face was firm, hard.
“No?” He stepped closer to her and she placed her hand behind her back, letting the fires burn hot against her palm, out of his gaze. “We have so much to learn about each other.” He took another step and her was nearly as close to her as Destan had been the previous night.
“My blood brother learned enough about you last night to statisfy any curiosity I might have had.”
“Ah! Yes, that.” Brunien smirked, standing his ground. “Amusing, was it not?”
That was the last straw. How dare he taunt her?! The redness in her cheeks amplified and she inhaled slowly, drawing on her strength.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:19 am
by Dollface
The Cerul was none the wiser about his brother arriving at his home. He dressed himself quickly, however, to meet his wife for breakfast, not wanting to spark any sort of irritation between them first thing in the morning. For the time being, he dressed in casual attire as he had no grand plans for the day, and finally began his descent to the lower portion of the manor. He made his way towards the dining room, and a familiar voice that should not have been in his home touched his ears and consequently made his blood boil.
“Amusing is not the word I’d use to describe your joke, you imbecile,” Destan said flatly as he arrived in the dining hall, stepping right up behind his wife, procuring a small sphere of water from the palm of his hand, taking her own with his to extinguish the flames that flickered at the small of her back. Although his eyes rested directly on his brother, he pressed a chaste kiss against her cheek just as he’d done the night before as they parted ways. “Pardon my tardiness, yesterday was rather eventful, wasn’t it?”
Had his brother forgotten he had already seen him the day before? This visit of his was entirely unnecessary, as far as Destan was concerned, and it only angered to watch a small smile spread over his brother’s face at the mention of the previous day. “Your lovely wife and I were just discussing some of yesterday’s events. I’m sure you’ve—“
“Oh, you mean where you purposefully embarrassed her brother—a child—who caused you no harm?” Destan snapped, his dark brows rising high as he stepped around Phedre now. “You will apologize to my wife, and then you will leave our home, Brunien.”
“Destan, don’t pretend you aren’t a child—“
“I said you will apologize.”
Brunien stared at Destan, stepping closer to the middle Cerul brother, the one he had always tried to get a rise out of just to fight him. “Are you forgetting your family already, brother? One night in bed with her and you’re a bloody traitor?” The words were a hiss, sheer disgust laced in the word directed towards Phedre. Even if Destan had no true attachment to Phedre yet, he had a duty as her husband to protect her now, and he would not allow Brunien to speak to her – or of her – in such an awful fashion.
“If you ever wish to step foot in my home like this again, brother, you will apologize for what you’ve done.” His words were low yet again, his eyes dark while a fist clenched at his side while he anticipated Brunien’s next move.
Although the elder of the two did not hastily reply, finally he unset his jaw and shifted a disdainful glare towards Phedre, “My sincerest apologies, sister.” With that, he stepped around the pair, his shoulder knocking into Destan’s as he passed them. The manservant followed him, and Destan kept an eye on his retreating brother to make sure he had left his home entirely.
Now that they were alone again – with the exception of a maid nearby to fetch them anything from the kitchen they might want with their breakfast, Destan came to step in front of his wife. “What exactly were you planning before I interrupted your lovely conversation?” Destan folded his arms, a rather casual stance, but he was curious to hear her answer, truthfully. “You should have come to get me as soon as he arrived, Phedre. I told you I would be the one to handle that situation.” Destan walked around her, taking his place at the head of the table in front of his own plate of eggs and toast that waited for him.
“How did you manage to sleep after our conversation?” The conversation shifted then, amusement lacing his words as his blue eyes searched her. “I hope it was as well as I slept.” What Phedre didn’t know certainly wouldn’t hurt her.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:34 am
by Simply
The water felt cold against her palm as he extinguished her ball of fire, yet, she didn’t protest. Never in a thousand years would the blonde admit that she was relieved to see him. Something about the eldest Cerul made her uneasy – it was a deep feeling in her bones that warned her away from him. Like a dutiful wife, she remained silent during their exchange. Hard eyes met Brunien’s when he apologized and she inclined her head in a brief acceptance of it before he disappeared behind them and out the door. She could not help but brief a soft sigh of relief when he departed.
While Phedre would never admit defeat in a battle of wits or the games of seduction they played with each other, she knew when she should acknowledge something. “I appreciate your words to your brother. It is comforting to know that you follow through with promises that you make.” Each word was sincere but once it was uttered, she spoke of it no more. No sense in giving him a big head over something miniscule.
“Nothing permanent, I assure you, though had he continued to probe into the specifics of our marital affairs last evening, I might have relieved him of some of his hair.” The manservant stepped forward and drew out her chair for her. Sitting, her poured her both a glass of water and a small amount of wine. “Time did not permit me to retrieve you. He surprised me, that is all. I thought it was merely a courier but I was mistaken it seems.” The manservant also brought her a series of jams and placed it between her husbands place at the head of the table and her own at his right hand side. “I attempted to defuse the situation, truly, but he was most persistence about discussing his superior bedchamber prowess.” At that, she momentarily watched his face for a reaction.
Buttering one slice of toast, she then spread a healthy amount of strawberry preserves on a muffin. His comment about how well she slept made her smile, genuinely, because after all, he did not need to know that she laid awake longer than normal at the mere thought of his cold fingertips against the warm skin of her back. “Very well, thank you. The furniture that you selected for my chambers was most delightful. I felt myself swept away to sleep the moment my head hit the pillow.” A small lie that would hurt nothing, save his pride and that was something that she intended to damage anyways. “And my bath was the perfect precursor to such a splendid sleep. The water was soothing against my skin once it reached the right temperature.” The glass of water was brought to her lips. She did not partake of any of the breakfast wine.
“I believe I will go for a ride today, if you might be inclined to join me.” She expected him to decline. These were pleasantries after all. A sham marriage for a false peace. “My father said that he had my horse stabled here and it has been nearly two months since I was able to take him out of the pasture.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 4:02 am
by Dollface
Laughter unexpectedly escaped the young man at Phedre’s admittance to what she might have done to Brunien if Destan’s appearance was delayed any more than it already was. “Do you suppose it would have suited him better than the mess he’s got on his head now?” He asked, his words almost playful—and he caught himself. This type of banter, he didn’t expect to ever have with her, but yet again he found them bonding over the similar dislike for his older brother. Destan soon wanted to shift from that topic though now that the other Cerul was gone and likely wouldn’t be returning unless absolutely necessary.
As his water and wine was poured, he watched Phedre for the moment, answering his question with a smile on her lips. He took it at face value, assuming then that she had actually managed to sleep far better than he had the night after their wedding. It was alarming how quickly everything moved, the fact that they now shared this home together – the home they were expected to fill children with. In some ways, Destan still felt like a child, like he was playing pretend with Phedre here and soon they would return to their normal day to day life.
Having breakfast like this, though, was the new normal to their day to day. He looked down to the toast as he thought about that, took the small bowl of strawberry preserves to use once she had finished with it. “I’m glad to hear you weren’t dreadfully uncomfortable.” He was mostly glad, because he was sure if she had been, he would not hear the end of it until she received new furniture and dressings for her bed. “Perhaps another time I’ll take you up on your bath offer.” The comment was off-hand, detached from his previous statement in an attempt to catch her off guard. A cheeky sort of smile at his lips, he took a bite out of his toast, then a drink of his own water as he watched her carefully for a reply.
At the mention of her horse, his shoulders tensed, and he took a moment to pause and ensure he wasn’t going to react visibly to the question. “No, no thank you, that’s alright, I’m not particularly fond of horseback riding,” he replied with a shake of his head. Destan leaned back into his chair, attempting to look comfortable dropping his arms against those of the chair. “I’ve got some things to do around here, check up on things that have yet to arrive, errands to run—the London house will be ready to visit soon, actually, so you’ll be able to go once it is.” There. Destan had successfully diverted the conversation away from the horse issue, and made it certain they wouldn’t have to spend the entirety of the day together.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 11:14 am
by Simply
This breakfast was the first of many that she would have at this table, with this man as her husband. Part of her hoped that if she proved barren, if she was incapable of having children, then the contract devised by their parents might be null and void. It was a horrible thing to hope – to not have children. Phedre loved children, she had always wanted them, but she had never fathomed that they would be with the enemy she had been taught to hate. The idea of carrying a water bending babe inside of her made her want to cut herself open. It was the only logical course of action, the child being a water bender that is. The stories said (because no on had tried interelemental relations in hundred of years) that the dominant in the relationship would prove to be the element of the babe. He was her husband, he was her keeper and she would bow to his whim. At least, she would do so in public.
A piece of toast was thoughtfully chewed as he mentioned the bath and she hurriedly swallowed and drank from her water glass to give herself a moment to think of a response. “Oh?” She raised the word an octave higher than her normal voice, as though she was surprised he had said that. “I thought the idea had made you uncomfortable when I posed it.” Turning her head, she looked at him directly, smirking slightly. “I must have read it incorrectly then, when you almost choked and lost composure when I extended the invitation to accompany me in the bathtub.” They would not be able to touch each other here, not a breakfast and not when the serving staff was just around the corner and all about the house fulfilling their duties to the home. At this game, she was safe. When he couldn’t set her off guard with his faint musk and gentle caresses, she was capable of holding her own.
The tension in his shoulders at the mention of riding did not go unnoticed, but she attributed it to the conversation about the bath. The offer had been extended merely as a courtesy. The married woman had no desire to spend a day riding about in the fields with him. It would have damped the whole affair, potentially in a literal fashion. In an attempt to be able to eat her breakfast by only make polite small talk, she continued on the course of the conversation that she had set in place. “No? I absolutely live for the race. Did you race, as a child?” She still had no idea that he vehemently disliked the idea of riding a horse. At the mention of London, he was able to distract her from talking about horses. “You are going in to London today?” The inquiry was genuine and she finished her muffin before leaning back in her chair. The manservant came and removed her plate, retreating back down to the kitchens below. “How long until it is, do you think? I positively adore the city.” It wasn’t a lie, but the city was dirty and smelled on industrialism. She loved the idea of the city because then she would be free from these breakfasts. Phedre hoped it was ready soon, she would escape there and visit friends. She would attend parties and dance the night away and momentarily pretend that her life had not gone to hell so swiftly.
“Oh, that reminds me.” The thought of London made her think of visiting the shoppes there and subsequently of the jeweler. “We need to look into a ring for me, so that when I do venture to London, they might know that I am yours.” The words were not said sweetly. Men didn’t wear rings. Another advantage there was to being a male. If she had been born male, none of this would have happened.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 12:05 pm
by Dollface
After Brunien had left and they sat together, attempting polite conversation over their breakfast, Destan felt awkward. Other than her bringing up the previous night, and the way he had reacted to her brazen offer to join him in the bath, the way they spoke to one another was far different than any other time they’d spoken to one another before. In favor of looking as though he was fumbling for an excuse as to why he did leave her last night, Destan continued to eat her breakfast, and averted his attention elsewhere for the time being. It was strange, feeling like the upper hand in their little game had shifted just slightly to her since he couldn’t bring her back down to earth with a touch of his hand.
Destan finished his toast and moved onto spooning some fruit onto his plate (although he was raised to allow the butler to do so, Destan did prefer to manage his own fruit by himself sometimes), when Phedre questioned him further about the horses. With a shrug of his shoulders, he chewed quickly before finishing to answer, “Once or twice, I just wasn’t interested, I suppose that all.” It certainly wasn’t all, and the tension he felt just talking about the beasts was from the fact that he didn’t like horses—of all the awful things he could have feared, horses were one of them, but he wouldn’t allow Phedre the pleasure of knowing such a thing. Destan only hoped he wasn’t so transparent, that she would buy the idea that he simply had better things to fill his time with both as a child and now an adult.
There was no ignoring her piqued interest at the mention of London at the home he purchased there – it was big enough for the two of them, but Destan only planned to use it himself if he had any sort of business that would take an extended period of time. “You? Adore the city? Have you been to the city, Phedre, it’s absolutely disgusting,” he shook his head rapidly for a moment, as if trying to shake the murk of all the industries off of him, “it took almost the entire to weeks prior to our wedding to find a suitable home, but yes, it should be ready by the beginning of next week, and then you may take a visit.”
The young man hadn’t meant to make it sound as though he were allowing her permission to go – he was simply stating that he didn’t want her there, or want her to see it, before everything was set up properly in the home. Blue eyes watched her carefully, hoping she wouldn’t bite his head off for the mild insinuation.
Truthfully, a ring was not the first thing he was concerned about, but Phedre did make a point that one was necessary. With a sigh, he reached for his water, finishing it off before his reply. “Well, I suppose we couldn’t have any other man trying to steal you away from me,” he replied, a lilt of sarcasm to his words as he looked to Phedre yet again, meeting her gaze. This exchange was much more business-like than any other hand been, and it made him uncomfortable. With his setting cleared, , and without doing anything to brash, he leaned forward, his face close to hers to ask her quietly, “I’ll look into it today, how is that? Do you request anything else, dear?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 12:21 pm
by Simply
His complete disinterest in horses was not common. Men loved riding horses. They loved showing off and racing. It struck her as odd but then he insulted her love of the city and she was drawn back to the present topic. “Yes. I enjoy the shops and my friends are there. There is so much more to do in London than in a home I reside in with a husband who can go attend to his business while I manage a house where there is enough serving staff to do that without me.” It was not meant to be rude. Phedre would live quite comfortable – more than comfortable, in face – as a Cerul. She sighed, brushing at her napkin and rising from her chair. “I think I shall. Please let me know when it is complete. I cannot wait for a visit.”
She was about to leave without his response when the sarcasm grated on her nerves. The blonde pause by his chair. There was a manservant in the room, but they were theirs after all. They were paid handsomely to turn a blind eye to their elemental abilities and certainly to other marital matters. The air around them began to warm, filling with a heat that could only be described as unnatural. She leaned down close to her husband’s ear. This was where she had an advantage physically. He was seated and she was not. Her mind raced as she planned her quick escape following what was to come next. The right side of her cupid’s bow brushed against the upper portion of his ear as she spoke. “That is lovely, husband. If I require any further help undressing, I will be certain to call for you. You were so helpful last night.” Phedre’s head inclined further towards him, her mouth finally at his earlobe. The only thing she wished is that she could have seen his face as she whispered, “pity you couldn’t follow through.”
And she was gone.
Phedre hurried up the stairs and shut the door to her bedroom, breathing heavily as she leaned the weight of her body against the deep brown of the wood. That had taken all of her strength, to get that close to him and not singe off his the stubble of his beard. Bile rose in the back of her throat and she hurried to the washbasin where she promptly relieved the contents of her stomach in the bowl. She played a big game but she was petrified of him. What if one day Destan decided to take what was rightfully his as her husband and bed her? The thought made her crawl back into her bed and stay there for the rest of the day.
In the two weeks that followed, Phedre spent most of the time out around their home. She raced the horsemaster and he taught her to ride appropriately as a man would, something that she had taught herself but was much better with proper instruction. They grew friendly and she found herself content most of the time. Only at meals was she truly unhappy with her situation. Destan avoided her and she kept away from him. It was simplier that way. They settled into a routine until one day he informed her that the city house was prepared and ready for their visit, should they choose to do so. Only a night passed and she was gone. The woman left him a note saying that she had gone to the city and that she would sent a message when she would be returning home. At the end, she added, “don’t miss me too much when its bathtime.”. She always had to have the last word.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 1:11 pm
by Dollface
That morning, Phedre managed to surprise him yet again.
Her warm lips so close to his ear, Destan had to catch his breath and his fingers gripped the arms of the chair just slightly. And then, she was gone. Before he knew it, she had retreated up the stairs, and he was left to sit in the dining room alone, racking his brain as to how he got paired with such a woman as she. When he found himself having to gather his composure after an encounter with her yet again, Destan left their home for the day and didn’t return until later in the evening, much past their supper time. Even then, he didn’t see her until the next morning.
As the next couple of weeks passed, the moments they spent together were very minimal, and Destan was content with that. His goal was not to form a deep friendship with her, or learn more about her in an attempt to love her – if she had been any other woman (a water bending woman) – he would have gone to all means necessary to win her affection. However, Phedre was an entirely different type of person, and he was certain she neither needed nor wanted him to make any of those attempts.
Once their home in the city was ready for a visit, he told her immediately over a meal, not thinking that she would leave any time soon—or without him. Even if he didn’t plan to take any extended vacations with her, he figured as much that she would allow him to accompany her on the first visit into London. Destan had planned to inform her of his idea the next morning at breakfast, however, when he went to sit at the dining room table, only one place was set, and the butler arrived with a note for him from Phedre.
Scanning over it quickly, he had to read it more than once to understand that Phedre had left him for the city—and for no exact period of time. At that exact moment, with the paper in his hand, Destan wished he could spark flames from his fingertips and set it on fire, and everything else for that matter. Causing a storm would do no good, as he had hired gardeners to tend to that area of the property today, and so he kept his emotions in check and stormed off back upstairs into his study, where he remained for most of that day, requesting his meals to be sent there.
He was fuming, angry that she had left at a moment’s notice and without having the decency to say something to his face. When a week passed and she had not sent word of returning, he grew angrier. Two weeks passed, and Destan only wished that he could have told her parents what their lovely daughter had done in practically abandoning her husband and doing… well, Destan had absolutely no idea what she was doing in the city. She had mentioned friends, and those friends he assumed were not tied to any man, and what reason did Phedre have to keep faithful to her water bending husband?
By the third week, he was convinced that she was just going to stay in their city home and return only when necessary – for important familial events, birthdays. At that point, did he even care if she returned? Destan wasn’t sure. It wasn’t much different from their day to day life, and yet, he was still the angriest he had ever felt, and he had been stewing in it, unable to release that emotion for nearly a month. One afternoon, as he took tea in the sitting room with a book in his hand, he distractedly toyed with the idea of taking his carriage in the city, to pick her up himself and bring her back to their home. Destan wasn’t about to let Phedre make a fool of him, make him look as though he couldn’t handle her.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 1:28 pm
by Simply
London was beautiful, perfect. Even with the slight smog in the air, she found herself relishing every minute in the city. She stayed in their small home in the city and entertained. Her friends came and they wined and dined the days away. She bought new clothing and hats and items to further decorate her room back home. Phedre even purchased a large painting of the Scottish highlands to put in their dining room. It would be perfect on the wall opposite the entrance. The days trickled by and then picked up speed, rushing past. Before she realized it, three weeks had passed. She had to send more of her new items in another carriage that would follow her back to their home in the country.
The ride back to their home was uneventful. She sat comfortably in the carriage and thought about all the galas that she had attended. Two of her dearest friends were married and the other was engaged, while there were a large amount of single individuals that pried her for information about her new husband. Phedre was a perfect lady about it. She spoke only kindly of him and did not divulge any information about their marriage bed…as nonexistent as it was. She merely would blush and bat her eyelashes when someone mentioned it.
The horses came to a stop in front of her large home and the other arrived behind her. The butler arrived at the door looking quizzically at her. “Oh, curses.” Swallowing, she pressed a hand to her chest, which was displayed with her low cut dress. The air in London had been stifling hot and even though fire ran in her blood, she still had taken to the fashion of wearing a low cut bodice with sheer sleeves on her gown. “Frederick, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot to send a letter announcing my return.” The butler inclined his head accepting her apology. “Would you see to the baggage in the next carriage and have it taken to my room? A large crate should be arriving tomorrow with a painting for the formal dining hall. See that it is hung, would you?”
She smiled at him and entered their home. The cool air around their country home set goosebumps running along her arms. It was nice to be home, though the city had been such a delightful retreat. When she entered, she placed her small clutch with her money purse on the large glass table in the entrance hallway. “Bernard, would you have some tea and biscuits brought into the sitting room? I am famished and haven’t eaten since breakfast back in London.” It was nearly five in the afternoon. She proceeded to the large sitting room with its giant glass window. It would be so delightful to sit in the sunshine for a moment. The woman was somewhat excited for the painting to arrive. She almost hoped that Destan would appreciate the gesture.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 1:50 pm
by Dollface
Destan sat reading well into the later afternoon, still toying with the idea of making the trip to London, his eyes retreating from his book momentarily to look through the large window that overlooked the countryside. While he had been lost in thought for a while, he was snapped out of it immediately when he heard the door open, Phedre’s voice reaching his ears as he heard her speak to the manservant. Destan listened carefully, and as he heard the heels of her of her boots clicking on the marble flooring in his direction, he cast his attention onto his book to seem as though he hadn’t even arrived.
And then there she was, certainly dressed for the city, smiling as though she’d just returned from a day trip of shopping and having lunch with her friends. Looking up in her direction, he closed his book, keeping it in his hand in an attempt to keep himself from possibly using them in any other way. He stood from the lounge where he sat, but made no move to step towards her, he was simply regarding her presence for the time being. “You’re unbelievable,” he immediately snapped at her, hoping to break her from whatever silly trance she was in to look so absolutely delighted with herself. “How was your vacation, dear? Did you have a lovely time, abandoning your home for nearly a month?”
His words were biting, and his arm s fell to his side as he started to walk towards her now, closing much of the distance he had left between them out of his anger. “How dare you, Phedre? Was your intent to make a fool out of me?” He stared down at her, and had he been more like her, there might have been flames dancing in his eyes with how absolutely angry he was with her. The young man kept his voice low, however – many of their attendants were still moving in and out of the front entrance, retrieving all of Phedre’s packages she brought along from the city.
“Did you think it would be acceptable to leave a note of your departure? I understand you don’t want my company, but the least you could have done was tell me at breakfast you planned on visiting the city.” His words were low, and he lifted a hand to her face, tilting her chin in his direction. “And then, you return, after a month might I remind you again, as if you’d never left and this isn’t an issue? You might not think much of me, Phedre,” he paused, releasing his hold on her face, “but I will not allow you to pull a stunt like that again.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 2:02 pm
by Simply
The harsh words drew her out of her reverie and she turned her bright blue gaze upon him. “Excuse me?” She asked, somewhat startled and not with a tone of disbelief but just sheer surprise. “What did you say?” But he continued on as though he hadn’t heard her and he closed the distance between them slowly, towering over her like Goliath over David. She swallowed hard and in her alarm she took a step backward to widen the space that separated them. As he continued on, sending words intended to inflict words in her direction, the anger inside of her began to grow. Fire benders were naturally hotheaded, prone to outburst of rage. They were instructed, especially the running family of Whitmans, how to control it. For the majority of the time, Phedre did fairly well.
This was not one of those times.
The moment he touched her face, she jerks involuntarily away, attempting to escape his grasp. Fortunately, he released her and his hand lingered in the air a moment. She slapped it down, away from her. Her touch would have burned him momentarily – not enough to leave a mark but enough to make her fury known. “My intent was to enjoy myself in the city. I have told you before that I adore spending time in the city. Though I guess in addition to being inept, you must also have a terrible memory.” The words were hissed. She had noticed how his voice was kept low. How dare he start a fight with her the moment she returned home? The woman had left him a polite note of her departure and yes she had forgotten to send him a message that she would be returning, but that should not matter. He was not her keeper.
Then Destan made the fatal mistake of saying that he would not permit her to act a certain way. The gloves came off. “You will not allow?” Incredulously, she repeated the words back at him. “You will not allow me…” She scoffed and her face filled with blood, a bright red skin of her cheeks a stark contrast against the bright blue or her eyes and the pale blonde of her hair. “You are not my keeper, dearest husband, or have you forgotten that promise as well?” She turned away from him, moving towards the window to give herself some space so that she didn’t light the book he had been reading on fire. Perhaps it was just a misunderstanding, the back of her mind said to her. If she just managed to calm down herself, maybe he would also lessen her anger – which she still believed her had no right to have.
But she was a Whitman and prone to anger. The quiet voice in her mind was silence. “How dare you presume to tell me what I can and cannot do in my own home. You may be my husband, Destan Cerul, but you will never own me. “ Whirling back towards him, her eyes flashed dangerously, hiding the hellbeast that she kept hidden away inside of her. “I went into the city and spent time shopping and visiting with acquaintances that I had not seen in quite some time, thanks to our unfortunately timed wedding. It is the high of the summer season, my love and I intended to enjoy it.” Sparks danced across her fingertips but no flames erupted. She was not quite that angry…yet.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 2:17 pm
by Dollface
“My memory is perfectly fine, thank you!” He snapped at her then, ignoring the burning sensation the smack to his hand caused. “And if I remember correctly, you were supposed to notify me of your arrival, as well, you should have had the decency to do that as well.” What did Phedre expect, that he was going to welcome her home politely, take her into his arms and tell her he had missed her so? Perhaps he didn’t think she would expect that much from him, but he wasn’t going to be the type of husband who would ignore the fact that she was so absolutely careless.
A harsh laugh left him, and he tossed the book down onto one of the tables that sat between the lounges, stepping towards her again. “No, you’re right, I do not own you, my dear wife. At the very least, I would say I deserve your respect which you have not offered.” In true Destan Cerul fashion, thunder began to crack overhead. Rain did not begin to pour, but through the large window that was now behind her, the dark clouds were starting to form overhead from all the rage that was bubbling inside of him with every fighting word she threw right back at him.
Not even six weeks into their marriage and they were having such a volatile fight. He watched as the sparks danced on her fingers, and he was almost tempted to will her to use them against him. “Shopping? Acquaintances?” He quieted his tone, seemingly calmer for a moment as he turned over the possibilities in his mind. Destan’s eyes dropped down to her hand, to the finger where a ring would sit nicely—but still, the hand was naked, as he’d not gone into the city in the last month to visit a jeweler about designing a ring specifically for his absolutely wonderful bride.
“Tell me more about your visit to London, Phedre.” Destan’s arms folded over his chest, his head held high, confidently, looking down at her through his dark lashes. “What did you do, who did you see?” He wondered if she had any idea of what he was possibly getting to without him having to say the exact words. “I’m sure any of your previous male suitors would have loved to see you without a ring, even if they knew of our fortunate situation.” Phedre had left him for weeks on end, after all—he had no other basis of his accusation, but he also couldn’t help but wonder if this might have been the truth. Neither of them had any true obligation to each other, other than the binding contract of their marriage, of course.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 2:29 pm
by Simply
“I had a minor lapse in judgment. Please excuse me for my small error of forgetting to send a message. I realized late last evening and any message I sent would have arrived around when I did. I am sorry to see that my unexpected return is so unpleasant for you.” She snapped back at him, the sparks on her fingertips. The hiss of the sparks was coupled with the rumble of the thunder she heard through the window, just above their home. He closed some of the distance between them again and she stepped back but she had nowhere to go. The choice to stand by the window was not a wise one and she was backed into it, just slightly. A small sidestep was made so that she could retreat further, but soon, if his advances progressed, she would find herself against the bookcase at the corner of their sitting room.
“I went shopping, as I have said to you twice now and as I said in my departure note. I attended some galas and held a dinner party for those of my friends that were in town. You may be terribly antisocial but I do enjoy the acquaintance of pleasant company from time to time.” Phedre emphasized the word pleasant so that he would know that she did not consider a single member of his family or anyone with the Cerul name to be among that category of pleasant people. She caught how he looked at her hand and momentarily attributed it to the sparks that were steadily becoming flames.
“Male suitors?!” She was flabbergasted. “What are you…” She trailed off and looked down at her hand as he had. Oh, he hadn’t been looking at the fire that swirled around her long fingers. He had been glancing at her left hand, where a ring did not reside. No outward expression of her marriage. Yet, was that not his fault? He had not seemed terribly interested in laying claim to her as his wife. She had even been the one to mention the ring to him in the first place. How dare he?! Those words echoed out loud moments later. “How dare you!” A sudden explosion of heat and his book was burning to ash on the table he had carelessly tossed it onto. “How dare you accuse me of making a cuckold of you! Where is this even coming from? You have no physical interest in me. You have no desire to share my bed but the idea of another man pleasuring me upsets you?!” Her tone was raised now. All bets were off and she would not be treated this way.
Blue eyes clouded with her displeasure as she took another step towards him, slapping him hard across the face. It wouldn’t leave a mark but it would sure as hell sting. “Is this because I arrived back early? Is this because this great sense of mistrust derives from your own guilt? Have there been women here, dear husband of mine?” She gritted her teeth and the muscles in her jaw flexed as curls began to come look from her hair, tumbling haphazardly down her neck. She looked a state. “Oh!” All of a sudden she feigned as though she remembered something and she stepped back.
“How silly of me to assume something like that. We both know you can’t perform when the invitation is made.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 2:47 pm
by Dollface
“Don’t act so absolutely incredulous!” He shouted over her now, as they both seemed to have abandoned any care of the fact that they were not alone in their home—they likely never would be, and thankfully their attendants were paid to turn a blind eye to anything they saw or heard. “You are my wife, and you will respect me, whether or not we share a bed, Phedre Cerul!” He tacked on his last name for effect, his teeth ground together as he finished speaking to her. Destan’s broad chest lifted and fell visibly with every breath he took, as he was still trying so desperately to keep his anger in check.
The slap on his cheek certainly did nothing to keep him calm.
Destan reached out immediately, snatching her small wrist in his hand, the touch so icy against her red hot skin that steam began to form just from the touch. “Watch your tongue, woman,” he hissed, close to her again, still refusing to let go of her arm in his hand. “I—“ he began to speak to her, when she acted as though she had an afterthought, and once more accused him of being impotent. In his anger at the accusation, he released her angrily, perhaps a little too rough, but not so much that she would have been hurt or thrown against anything. “When are you going to give up your only defense?”
Blue eyes narrowed in on the woman in front of him, who he’d stepped back from to give the both of them some space. Silence fell for a moment, before he realized something—he could regain the upper hand. “Silly me. You’re all talk. You’ve never even taken a lover, how could I assume you’d gain the confidence to take a lover other than your own husband.” Destan spoke haughtily, almost, as he stepped towards her, repeating his movements from the night before. A hand at her waist, his face close to hers, lower lip nearly brushing her own if he were to begin speaking again.
“You would break, if I truly made an invitation to you,” his words were quiet, but they were not polite or sensual either for that matter—they were almost accusatory, as if they spoke any differently to each other. “You’d be a little puddle, at my absolute will, at a complete loss of what to do. You can’t tell me I’m wrong, Phedre.” He released her then, his arms falling and he clasped his hands behind his back when he stepped away from her once more, a little dance they seemed to be doing during their terse argument. “You’re a naïve, inexperienced girl. I should have known better than to accuse you of such unfaithfulness.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:02 pm
by Simply
The steam the erupted between them added little to the noise that they were already making as they shouted. She attempted to tug her arm away but he was immensely more physically powerful than she would ever be. All that it served to do was drawn them momentarily closer to each other. She focused on making her skin unbearably hot, making it so that even with how cool his touch was, he would soon become scalded by merely touching her. And then he released her and she relaxed, just slightly, to allow her body temperature to return to its normal 101 degrees. “My only defense?” She scoffed again, turning her head away. “It’s rather a large elephant in the room, don’t you think? We are supposed to bear a multitude of heirs for our families.”
But she realized soon that she had made a grievous error. She had shown her hand. Phedre had forgotten, in their time apart, that he was much more clever than she had expected a Cerul to be. The nail was hit squarely on the head when he landed the blow that she had never taken a lover. Of course, she hadn’t. Of course her virtue was still in tact, a large bargaining chip, no doubt, in the settlement between Whitmans and Ceruls. The blonde woman drew back as he approached her, as his hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. It was then that she realized that not all parts of his body were unnaturally cold. The heat radiated from his chest, from his hips. She swallowed hard, the motion obviously taking a great deal of effort with her throat being a dry as it currently was.
Then his mouth lingered near hers, hovering above her. With each word he spoke, his lips briefly captured her lower one, pulling it just minutely outward. Phedre couldn’t breathe. The air inside her lungs would not escape and she was incapable of taking another breath to calm herself. Then she was free and she visibly exhaled. Where the naïve girl had been, though, the fiery demon rose to take her place the moment she was free of him. Random books on the shelf began to burn, hissing and sputtering with flames. She shoved past him. “You should have known better than to accuse me of something like that regardless of whether or not I maintained my virtue for the pleasure of my future husband. You are despicable.” She spat the words as she moved past him. “I hate you. I hate it here. And you wonder why I leave for weeks at a time.” The words caught in her through with all of her rage and she stormed out of the room, hastily opening the back door and moving out onto the open patio of their back gardens.
For a moment, she stood there, holding onto the railing and trying to catch her breath. He was a monster. He was a horrible, cruel man and she did not think that she could do this any longer. How could she be married to someone that would think so little of her? How could she be with him when he thought at the first moment she would run off and spread her legs for another man? Phedre was not kind to him. She did not love him, nor even like him. But if there was one thing that she was, it was loyal.
Then it began to rain. It started slowly and then suddenly the bottom felt out of the sky. It soaked her to the bone and she was not fast enough to make it inside before the drops made their way completely through the light fabric of her gown. Thunder rumbled its amusement as she opened the door. Destan. he had done that one purpose. He had drenched her for his amusement, even after he shamed her for something that she shouldn’t have had to fear in the first place. Most men would have jumped at the chance to have her virginity, but he use it as a weapon against her, to wound her.
Anger bubbled to the surface and with it, the heat of her internal flame. Steam began to rise off of her as she stalked back into the sitting room, where he oh-so-wonderful husband sat reading. The books she had burned were now small piles of ash at random locations. Another was in his hand. Blue eyes narrowed at it and she caused it to burst into flames right along the spine, still being held in his hands. Her breathing was labored ands he stood beside the chair he sat in. The curves of her body were outline vividly in the soaked fabric that clung to her. Her hair was limp and lifeless against her neck, cheeks and back. “You son of a bitch.” She cursed at him.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:32 pm
by Dollface
The hatred she hurled at him before leaving the sitting room only boiled his anger once more. He watched her out the window, as she stood outside, and decided it was time that he let his emotions unravel. The clouds overhead quickly grew darker and more ominous in seconds. Rain fell slowly and steadily from sky for seconds before it picked up to torrential downpour. With a crack of lightning, Destan stepped away from the door, and searching through the piles of ash that now lined one of the bookcases, he removed one that was still mostly intact, and returned to his spot he took on the lounge. Destan wasn’t even reading, he was just waiting for the moment for her to return so that they could pick up their… conversation.
To say the least, he didn’t appreciate her storming out before they’d resolved their argument—though a resolution between them was highly unlikely.
When the door to the outside crashed open, he acted unaffected for a second, before he looked up and she was literally steaming. For a second he choked back laughter at the sight, that the heat of her body and the cold rain had caused steam to physically rise from her small frame. But then, it also would have been difficult to ignore the way that her sheer dress now clung to her body, accentuating the curve of her breasts to her wait to her hips—
He caught himself, and smiled, and instead of the storm outside calming he allowed the rain to fall heavy around their home. “Did you have a nice walk, love, did you clear your head? Have you cooled down a bit so we can continue our conversation? I would really prefer it if you didn’t storm off, truthfully, it’s not very ladylike.” Once again, he closed the book in his hand, standing to face her when it jumped into flames. A curse fell from his lips as he dropped on it, stomping on the flames to put them out. All amusement was gone from his features and a scowl returned to his face. “Will you, just—“ He couldn’t find the words, and in a flash, his hands caught her face, and his lips crashed down on hers.
There’s was nothing loving about the way he kissed her—the passion it held was out of pure anger, and he grabbed her, an arm snaked around her waist quickly as he held her in place against him. Phedre was warm, and he reveled in it for the moment, his other hand tangling into her long, blonde locks. And then, he pulled away from her suddenly, blue eyes wide as he looked down into her own, before flickering down to her full lips that had just been against his. The memory of her mouth against his was burned into his mind, and he could still feel her lips as if he had never pulled away.
Destan stepped back, entirely in shock. “You are truly deplorable,” he spoke slowly, without emotion, his breathing just as labored as hers. “If you set anything else on fire, I expect you to replace it immediately. If you can go to the city and waste my money on whatever the hell you bought over three weeks’ time, you might as well put it to good use and replace everything you’ve ruined.” With a turn of his heel, he walked slowly away from her, and began to walk in no exact direction. Something had stirred inside of him that made him uncomfortable, and if Phedre followed after him then so be it, but to look her in the eye after his stunt? He was completely on edge, his nerves practically shaking him physically.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:48 pm
by Simply
“A nice walk? A nice walk?!” She incredulously began, sputtering unintentionally as water still dripped down her face. The intensity of her voice increased with each word as she watched him stomp out the fire that she had caused. The ash ground into the oriental rug that covered the wooden floors and she knew that the servants would be none too pleased about having to clean up such a stomped on mess. That, however, was not her concern at this precise moment. And then his hands were on her face. She was alarmed and then something happened she didn’t expect to occur in a million years. A strong hand pressed against the small of her back, crushing her deliciously against his own frame. The other snaked into her hand, roughly grasping her head to hold it in place. His mouth – dear God – his mouth. He tasted like a warm spring day, if such a flavor could ever be captured. Unwillingly, her mouth parted slightly for his lips and then he was gone.
Destan spoke at her but she merely stood there, stunned. Her fingers raised to touch her lips, feeling them begin to swell at the force of his assault. His truly unexpected assault. Warmth spread across her body, starting in at the base of her stomach and radiating outwards like a forest fire. It was not the same internal heat that she named her elemental abilities. It was something else entirely, something she had never experienced before in the entirety of her life. In the back of her mind, her memory chimed softly that something much more dull had occurred when she was fourteen and had kissed the stable boy but this…no, this was new.
Her surprise turned into fear which promptly, as expected, turned into indignation. “I’m the deplorable one?” She turned on her heels, having gathered her composure and moved after him. She reached out and grabbed his arm, turning him back towards her. “How dare you! I cannot even begin to…I just…”She was stumbling over her words with anger and amazement. “First, you accuse me of being unfaithful in our marriage simply because I spent a month in the city – which, might I add you never chose to contact me either. You could have joined me, did that ever cross your mind? No.” She continued on, keeping a firm grip with her hot touch on his forearm. The storm raged on outside.
“Secondly, you accuse me of not portraying myself appropriately and attempt to unnerve me with unwanted advances.” The memory of it intensified the heat in her stomach and she could almost feel the weight of his hand on her back, the firm pressure that sent heat across her hips and a shiver down her spine. “Thirdly,” my, this list was growing longer by the moment, “you choose to assault me for no apparent reason. And finally, you storm out – something which you just chastised me for. We are done with this conversation, Destan Cerul, when I say we are done.” The words were firm and she took another step forward towards him, but her shoes were slick on the wood as they had not been on the carpet of the sitting room, due to their wet nature. She momentarily lost her balance and gravity threatened to pull her to the floor. Reflexively she reached upward and her hand wrapped around his neck. She managed to pull herself upright, closing the distances between them. Realizing what she had done, she swallowed and her breath became labored once more. “So what do you have to say for yourself now?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 4:07 pm
by Dollface
Destan must have been stark raving mad. What other explanation was there for the way he just kissed Phedre? She was his wife. She was his wife out of duty, nothing more, and there was no need to act on his emotions in such an overtly passionate manner. The storm outside was loud in his ears as he continued to walk, but he didn’t make it far. Her warm fingers were curled around his arms and he turned, facing her as she fumbled through her angry words. He was truly in a daze, hearing her, but not reacting as he would have before. No, he had calmed her, completely diffusing his anger when he kissed the fire bender before him.
Phedre continued—second, this; third, this—and he only was snapped out of his daze when she accused him of assaulting her with that kiss. Dark brows furrowed, and before he could say anything out of spite in anger towards her, she nearly slipped and instinctively his arm caught her at the waist, and there was again. Pressed right up against him, an arm around his neck. He was all too aware of her heat this time, but she wasn’t scalding, wasn’t making an attempt to burn or harm him in any way.
Oh, what did he have to say for himself?
“I did not believe you would be gone as long as you were, first off,” he started quietly, trying to remember all of the points she previously made, so he would have a proper response for each one. Still, he did not release her, and held her against him. By this point, no one was around—attendants were upstairs, putting away Phedre’s clothing and everything else into their designated rooms—and they stood in the front entrance of their home, thunder overhead and rain pelting the glass windows. “I was not storming,” he skipped her second point, “I merely had to—remove myself from the situation at hand.”
The situation at hand was her warmth against him.
Phedre’s lips were close to him again, warm, inviting, and his nose brushed against hers slightly. Destan’s eyes closed, and he let out a sharp breath before he dropped his arm from her waist, lifting her arm from his neck. His fingers held hers lightly for just a moment. “I will have the chef prepare an early supper.” He completely changed the subject, releasing her from his hold completely now, “I’m sure you’re starving.” Swallowing hard, he took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “If you don’t mind, I’m, I’m going to change. You should do the same, you’re soaked. We wouldn’t want you falling ill.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 4:21 pm
by Simply
“You were storming.” She whispered back but there was no emphasis, no weight behind her words. They were hollow and lacked the anger she had possessed before she slipped against his. His arm was on her back again, as though it had found a home there – somewhere to which it could always return and easily find. Her gaze searched his face. It ran along the dirty blonde hair that stood in an unkempt, yet organized fashion. Then she trailed down his jaw to his lips and finally making their way upward to meet his gaze. “So you blame me for a misconception that you yourself devised? I never gave you any indication of how long I would be gone and therefore, it is no fault of mine that you made an incorrect assumption.” Her voice was still, as though when his hands were on her, the heat rushed out of her body into his and she was left without the ability to grow truly angry.
Just as all self-control left her and she meant to close the last small distance between them, he pulled away, leaving her skin feeling colder than it ever had before. She exhaled slowly at the same time that he did. An early supper and retiring to her chambers was what would be best for her right now. She needed to walk herself up the curving staircase and depart to the right, while he moved to the left. Yet something had awakened inside of her. It did not quell her hatred but it complicated her emotions. Desire.
As she looked him over briefly, she noticed that his clothes were now damp as well, from having held her so firmly against his dry clothes. Phedre inclined her head in acquiescence and turned towards the staircase that was only a few feet from where they had stopped in the hallway outside of the sitting room. She placed a hand on the golden railing and drew herself up one step, so that if he was behind her, they would be nearly the same height – leveling the playing field, so to speak.
“It is so unfortunate that I am a naïve, inexperienced girl.” The voice floated softly towards him, mimicking the phrase he had used to wound her so deeply. “If I wasn’t…” He was close to her now and she reached out to him with her free hand, slipping under the lapel on his jacket. With little effort she pulled him close, looking down at him from her slight advantage from the stairs. “If I wasn’t so terribly new to all of this, I might invite you to help me change. It is so difficult to remove wet clothing alone.” Her mouth hovered above his and she grazed his lips by tilting her head along them. Heat flooded across her hips, rushing upwards to her neck and flushing her skin. “This time, perhaps, you might even join me for that bath.” Her hand released it hold on the railing and she looked up, watching as her hand brushed back his hair. The golden strands caught the light, contrasting with their darker companions. “It is so unfortunate that I haven’t a clue how to handle myself when in the presence of such a strong, experienced man.” There was sarcasm lacing her words but it juxtaposed with the way her breath airily left her, wanting.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 4:41 pm
by Dollface
A wave of relief washed over the Cerul when he watched Phedre turn towards the staircase, seemingly headed in the direction of her room. Good. She could retreat up the stairs, and he would wait a moment, go to the kitchen and request an early supper, before retreating to his own chambers until the very last moment when they were supposed to meet again for the last time that night. And yet… she spoke again. Phedre was entirely unrelenting, and as she repeated the harmful words he’d spoken moments before, a pang of something twisted in his gut.
Despite her teasing nature, there was something serious in the way that she spoke, in the way she moved purposefully to the step on the staircase that put her a hair above eye level to him. Destan sucked in a breath as she closed in on him, her hand at his chest, and his eyes closed as her heat radiated, surrounding him. Her offer was tempting, more tempting than it had been the last time she posed it to him, before she’d been gone for nearly a month. “Phedre…” he whispered her name quietly, blue eyes opening to look at her directly. His hands hovered at her hips, his touch cool but the rest of his body warming from head to toe as he made an attempt to keep his composure.
His hands moved desperately up along her sides, before one lifted to cup her face again. Instead of his lips pressing to hers, he kissed her against the cheek, her jaw, just below her ear before he stopped himself. What was he even acting out of at this point? Destan was no longer angry, and what was stirring inside was much different—a part of him wanted her, wanted him as he was supposed to as she was his wife, and in a flash, he hated her for that alone.
Slowly, he retreated from her, removing himself from her grasp entirely. “Not now. You’re not thinking clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spoke quickly, feet moving backwards to bring him off of the staircase. “I’m—“ was he sorry? Did he want to apologize for confusing himself, the both of them? This was not the arrangement. They were meant to… deal with one another, to be content with each other’s’ presence only when it was absolutely necessary. Their marriage was one of duty, of obligation, and he always assumed he would have been lucky if Phedre even began to favor him as an acquaintance at some point. The way she looked at him, the hunger in his eyes, it shocked him, for he knew she saw it in him just the same.
His desire only welled as he continued to stand there.
“Please.” He pleaded with her, as if he couldn’t take it any longer. “I will request an early dinner. We can eat supper, you can tell me about your trip. Then we’ll be done for the evening. You need to rest, Phedre.” His words were soft, and he suddenly felt sapped of all of his energy. After their tumultuous fight and all of the emotions raging inside of him, the rain outside had calmed to a drizzle, the clouds beginning to depart.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 4:58 pm
by Simply
Phedre relished the feeling of his cool touch through the fabric of her damp clothing. And then his mouth found her neck, just above her pulse. It raced, pounding in her ears with each movement he made. An indiscernibly soft noise escaped her as she exhaled, just as his mouth found her ear. The adrenaline raced through her and her hand traveled from his hair to the back of his neck and across his shoulders. Thoughts were impossible right now. All that she knew was that she wanted to have him kiss her again. She needed to taste the cool spring breeze and the fresh flowers that bloomed. It was all she could think about.
And he retreated from her. He left her. He didn’t want her, even when she had practically laid herself out for him to take. To make matters worse, he accused her of not knowing her own mind. “How silly of me.” She breathed and she could feel the blinding sting of tears forming behind her eyes but she refused to shed them. Phedre used all of her remaining strength to evaporate the water before it had a chance to well in her eyes, to give him that satisfaction. So distracted by her current state of rejection, she missed seeing the hunger in his eyes. The same hunger she had felt moments ago when he relinquished some of his impeccable self-control.
A ragged inhalation as she gripped the railing again, knuckles turning white with the effort. “Of course, someone as childlike as I can’t possible know their own mind on matters such as this. Thank goodness I have you as a husband to guide me.” She did not raise her voice as she said it, but the venom was there, the pain of the rejection. Phedre would never be with someone she loved, respected or cared for. She knew that. She had nearly accepted it. It was difficult now, though, that she could not even seduce her husband. How miserably she had failed. How deplorable she must truly be to him.
“Yes, I think I do need rest. I think I shall forego dinner this evening. I am quite exhausted from my day.” Phedre turned and retreated up the stairs as quickly and as slowly as she dared. The moment the door to her chambers closed and no handmaiden was in sight she left out a shaking sob. It shook her and then she was done. Phedre Whitman…no Phedre Cerul would cry for no man, especially her husband. He clearly thought so little of her. He didn’t think she was loyal to him. He didn’t believe that she was intelligent enough to know that she did want him – not emotionally, God no, but at least physically. At least something, but no. To him she was a little girl that he had been unfortunately chained to. She placed her face into her hands and swept them backwards across her hair.
“Draw me a bath, would you?” She asked one of the handmaidens that lingered outside of her door. “I will also need assistance undressing. Burn the gown, I no longer want it.”
She wallowed there for a while, before she actually grew hungry. The servants had all gone to bed and the kitchen was surely empty. This was her house after all. She drew her silken robe around her and it brushed the floor as she descended the stairs. It was dark and she held the candle in her hand, lighting her way. She expected to find that all the lights had been extinguished but the smaller sitting room had enough light that it leaked out into the hallway. Perhaps they had forgotten to put out the fire. Curiosity drew her towards the room, wondering if she would have to ring for the staff to come put it out and disposed of the ash appropriately – as she had no idea how. Rounding the corner, she didn’t see anyone, though the backs of the chairs in this room were tall. “Damn,” she murmured, thinking herself alone. She crossed the room to the slowly dying fire and momentarily rekindled it, watching it flame to life before lowering her hand and letting it return to its previous state. The fire always calmed her nerves.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 5:16 pm
by Dollface
Truly, he hadn’t meant to hurt Phedre this time. He did not mean to bruise her pride, or ego, but it was evident in her actions, the wetness at her eyes that he had done so. When she retreated up the stairs, Destan was only slightly relieved. He was still warm, his shoulders tense, and now all that he could think about was sitting in a scolding bath to relieve his muscles. Instead, he wandered to the kitchen to request their supper earlier than usual. However, once he was changed and returned downstairs to eat, Phedre never joined him. He waited for a while before he touched his plate, and his food was nearly cold by the time he finally decided to eat.
Promptly after dinner he returned to his bedchamber, drawing a bath for himself to relax his nerves for the evening. But as he retreated to his bed for rest, he simple stared up through the four posts on his bed and to the ceiling, unable to find relief in slumber. His mind was wild with thought, wondering about Phedre. Once he exited his room in only his night clothes, he glanced down the long hall, slightly tempted to knock on her door to see how she was feeling at that moment.
Instead, he descended down the staircase and into the small sitting room where the fireplace was. He started a fire himself, as no one else seemed to be around, and retreated to one of the chairs that faced outwards towards a window that looked over the property. The window was not as open as the one in the other room, but there was something about the warmth of the fire that calmed him—it felt similar to the way Phedre had against his body. Destan let his head fall back against the chair’s cushion, lost in his thoughts and trying to make sense of the emotions that he felt this afternoon.
As it was so quiet, he heard the soft footsteps against the marble floor, the swish of silk against it and the body it belonged to. Her soft voice touched his ears, and quietly he stood, watching for a moment as the light from the flames illuminated her face, her form. “Phedre,” he spoke suddenly, his voice still queit though, “I thought you’d already gone to your bedchamber for the evening. Are you hungry? Can I offer you something to eat?” Concern was etched in his words, rather than anger—he was not upset that she had not joined him for dinner, as he understood why she hadn’t. “All the servants have gone for the evening themselves, but I know my way around the kitchen well enough, it might not be gourmet, but—“
He stopped himself from rambling. What was wrong with him? Had Destan lost himself completely in front of the fire bending girl. At that moment, he also remembered he was in the clothes he usually slept in, and he found himself slightly embarrassed to be so almost exposed to her.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 5:30 pm
by Simply
The voice startled her and the fire roared to life, balls of flame swirled in her palms as she turned to face him, sending one flying towards the chair that he had just been occupying a few moments before. Blood rushed through her arteries, filling all of her body with its heat and the adrenaline that came from being so startled. She realized it was him and the flames died down, but did not disappear entirely. She was still angry with him for refusing her. How could he turn down a woman such as her? Was she not beautiful enough for his tastes? Was she not capable of providing him some modicum of pleasure? While she was no expert, she was certain that it would at least have been enjoyable.
“I had.” Her response was brief. There was concern in his words though and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you being so kind?” She asked warily, but her stomach growled at her. She certainly was extremely hungry. Pursing her lips slightly, she rested a hand on her hip, before feeling far too exposed that way. Hurriedly, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and held herself rather securely. The anger dissipated slightly and she nodded her head, feeling vulnerable without anything on her face and her curls hanging about her face in a haphazard manner.
“That would be nice, though. Skipping dinner was not my wisest decision.” She swallowed and moved past him out of the sitting room and headed towards the kitchens, pausing to let him catch up to her. “I…I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I didn’t intend to be so forward. You said you would never force anything upon me and I think that I, I should have held myself to the same standards.” She was apologizing to him! To a Cerul! Dear God what was happening in the world right now.
They descending down to the staff kitchens and she sat herself down on a wooden stool. “You are quite adept at making me angry though. You manage to do it better than almost anyone else.” A slight smirk played her lips as blue eyes cast themselves downward onto the wooden table that was for food preparation. Perhaps they could get through this meal without fighting, she thought to herself.
Unfortunately for Phedre, that was just wishful thinking. It was only a matter of time before he said something offhandedly and she took it the wrong way.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 5:45 pm
by Dollface
A shocked yelp escaped him—not purposely—when she hurled a ball of fire in his direction, and his immediate reaction was to put the fire out on the chair he just sat in as not to ruin it completely. He looked at her almost incredulously, but was quick not to get angry, as he realized he was the one that startled her. Destan’s eyes were still wide on her as she questioned his motive, and his jaw fell slack as he searched for an answer. “Well,” he shifted, uncomfortable for a moment, “I suppose as your husband it is my duty to… keep you…fed…”
What a sorry excuse, but it was the first thing he thought of. Plus, he could only imagine that she was truly famished. The pastries she requested when she first returned were never brought out due to their volatile argument, and then she had skipped dinner altogether. It was the least he could do to offer her something, especially when he wasn’t entirely certain that Phedre would know her way around the chef’s kitchen.
Phedre exited the room before him, however, and he took her lead and began to follow in that direction, and cast his eyes to her when she came to his side and began to apologize. “Well, I was not anticipating that,” he murmured, his gaze wide as he navigated through the halls towards the kitchen. “You would not have been forcing anything upon me, Phedre, it was simply that—“ Again, he paused, attempting to choose his words carefully, so that he did not insult her yet again that day. “Our situation is very confusing. I’m still not sure what to make of it. You must understand what I mean, don’t you?”
That was all he could really ask of her.
He chuckled at her comment that he had the tendency to make her very angry, and he quickly remarked that she’d been blessed with the same gift to do so herself. When they reached the kitchen that belonged to their staff, he first found a tray, two dishes (he decided he might as well have a little something himself so she wouldn’t feel too awkward sitting and eating in front of him), and retrieved an array of foods that might fit her liking—breads, cheeses, most of the things that would have been served earlier when she had first arrived home.
Tray in hand, he led the both of them back into the sitting room, and decided to be a little less than formal. He set the tray down on the rug in front of the fireplace, and sat himself on one side of it, nodding his head at the other side for Phedre to join him. He picked at his plate for a moment, before he lifted his blue eyes in her direction. “I have to ask, did you manage to bring any chairs from the city with you? We might have to replace that other one that’s now burned from you trying to singe my head off.” The comment was flippant, off-hand and teasing. He was hoping that maybe, just possibly, they could keep their conversation light for once.
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 9:15 pm
by Simply
With interested eyes, she watched him as he prepared them some food. He seemed to know his way around the kitchen well enough and she wondered how often he had come down here to fix himself something after the staff had retired for the evening. Cheeses were placed on their tray, along with olives and breads and some small amount of spreads that smelled deliciously like basil and pine nuts. Her stomach rumbled again in anticipation of the meal. Obediently, she followed him back up the stairs to where she might have just blow off his head. She expected him to sit on the couch and pull up the undamaged chair for her but instead he seated himself beside the dying fire.
With a flick of her wrist, she ignited it once more. It crackled and whispered before playing a very soft hum in the background. It comforted her, as she sat with her back to the flames, letting their heat rush up along her back and warm her neck. She had chosen her silk robe, thinking everyone else was abed and likely should have worn something more substantial now that he was here. But, he was her husband and there was no harm in this.
Their gaze met and she smiled at him gently. “I suppose on my next trip I can find something to put in its place. Though it is your fault. You startled me. If you had yelled at me instead of speaking my name so softly, I might not have been so surprised.” A smirk played at her mouth. They would keep their conversation civil for now, she had no reason to start an argument with him. Placing an olive on her tongue, she chewed it and made a soft appreciative noise. “These are fantastic. My mother’s kitchen staff never could manage to purchase the correct olives. They were always too bitter but these,” she held another one out in front of her, examining it before placing it, too, in her mouth.
She made a piece of bread with cheese on top and began to gnaw away at it. She grew comfortable with him – not at ease exactly, but she didn’t have the rod holding her spine straight anymore. Instead, she relaxed on the carpet with her husband, watching as the fire would catch the brighter strands of stubble along his jaw. “Why do you keep it like that?” She asked all of a sudden, raising her eyes to his. “Your beard, I mean. Most men are clean shaved or commit fully to their beards but you…” She held out almost an accusatory finger but her voice was still very light. “I cannot pinpoint you, husband. You are far more difficult to read than I initially gave you credit for in the gardens two months ago.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 9:32 pm
by Dollface
“You believe it is my fault that you were the one who nearly blew my head off?” Destan laughed at this insinuation, his voice not accusatory, but amused for once. Though, he did suppose that she had a point, “I didn’t mean to startle you, Phedre, and to be fair you startled me as well. I merely assumed everyone, including you, had turned in for the evening.” A pause, as he took an olive, chewing it before finishing. “I find that I’m glad I was wrong, now.” Was that a compliment? He eyed her, wondering how she was going to react. Ever since this afternoon, it seemed there was a shift in their… relationship? Acquaintance?
A knot twisted in his stomach, and he returned his eyes to the crackling fire beside them. She seemed different enough as well, not as tense currently, and just that alone was enough to make his nerves begin to rush through him again. How did she have such an effect on him? Just her presence could draw any emotion from him, which Destan didn’t like. He had retreated down here to think, and now he found his thoughts even more jumbled than they had been previously. Briefly, he glanced at her, quickly taking her form under the silken robe that she wore—it didn’t help his situation. She looked stunning sitting there simply in that, and a flicker of a thought entered his mind, as to whether or not a chemise covered her body beneath the robe, or…
Phedre pulled him back to the reality of her sitting there with him, speaking about his facial hair. It was definitely out of style for any regular man of their time. “You’re asking the important questions, dear,” he teased, retrieving a piece of bread now himself, but left it plain as he took a bite. “I suppose I never thought about it, really, I suppose I just like the way it looks. Anything less, I look far too young, many might think you’ve taken a lover far below your age. Anything more, and I look as though I belong working in the city.” An eyebrow raised in her direction, and he raised a hand to push her finger away, taking her wrist to rest her hand on her leg.
Releasing his touch on her, he thought about her words. “Would you say that you’re quite inept with your observational skills, then?” Oh, how the tables had turned. He smiled at her, amusement flickering wildly in his bright blue eyes. “After all this time, you’ve been accusing me of such, and here you are unable read me. I must say, I am quite mysterious, my dear wife. You’ll never know what I’m going to do next.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 9:45 pm
by Simply
Light curls bounced against her face as she shook her head very gently from side to side. The fire at her back dwindled, the logs making their protests as they were slowly burned down to ash. Any fire in the room would always call to here with its siren song. She could hear it behind all the other noise in the room. If she focused on it hard enough, she might get lost in it and the flames would feed off of her energy. For now, though, the man across from her kept her attention. Her interested was evident as she leaned on her elbow, placed on the table that separated them. It was difficult not to notice the way he would lick his lips after each bite. It was intoxicating and she was drunk of something she hadn’t experienced before.
He moved her hand and she focused as hard as she could on his face and not the cool nature of his fingers against her wrist, brushing the inside against her pulse. It sped up a few beats per minute and she had to exhale discretely. “Inept?” She asked, raising both of her eyebrows higher onto her forehead. “I do not think that I am inept at anything, Destan.” She leaned forward and stole the remainder of his bread from his hands and placed it in her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully, making a decision on how to respond to him.
“You are just difficult to read, as you are in most aspects of my life. Do you do it on purpose then? Do you make it hard for me without thought or is it all purposeful?” Her words were without malice or sarcasm but it was firm. “I can read aspects of you.” She raised her hand again and gestured it about his face, though keeping her distance from him. “I think you keep your beard in that short manner for other reasons. It uncommon and likely doesn’t greatly please your parents but it does not disgust them, so they let it slide. Like a small little victory.” Narrowing eyes, took him in as she picked apart a small piece of cheese, breaking it down into easier pieces to pop into her mouth. “You do not readily use your powers, meaning you’re confident enough with them to not have to show them off. The way you interact with Brunien indicates to me that you are more powerful than he is, so one of his life goals is to make your life difficult.”
“You don’t take me up on my offers and that is hard to discern as well. You’ve clearly been with a woman,” now she was getting bold and crossing into dangerous territory. “Likely multiple women based on the way that you laughed at me before.” The small glass of water that resided on the tray was taken into her hands and she took a slow sip, studying his face.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 10:06 pm
by Dollface
Nice. This was…nice?
It was such a plain way to describe their current conversation, and any tutors he had as a child would have slapped his wrist for such a blasé noun. At this moment, he was glad to be in presence, to feel the warmth not just from the fire, but from her as well. It was a quiet lull, travelling across the small space that they shared, much unlike the heat that nearly burned him when she was furious with him. Much unlike the heat against him when he’d kissed her in the other room as she’d returned from London.
This heat was different, it was comforting, just as her voice was as she spoke of him. Her voice was smooth, almost singsong with every point she made, and for once her assumptions did not grate on his nerves. The only thing that really struck a chord through him was when she spoke of his elder brother, and Destan glanced up from his plate, looking at her through his eyelashes as he did earlier, sighing in an almost resigned fashion. “I have definitely underestimated you, Phedre Cerul,” he stated as he lifted his head, tilting it to the side slightly, “and you are right about Brunien, though I’m sure anyone can see that a mile away. Truthfully, it isn’t very difficult to be more powerful than him. You could zap him into a pile of ash just as easily as those books.”
Even though he spoke, she didn’t seem to be finished, and as Phedre mentioned the way that he turned her down – and consequently his experience with women – he grew uncomfortable. He was sure it was noticeable, as he eyed her for a moment before he stood, moving carefully across the room where extra firewood was stored. “Although you are my wife, it’s not really any of your business or your concern,” he stated plainly, as he dropped one piece of wood into the fire, then another, standing and watching as the flames danced back to life with new fuel, “but yes, I have, since you seem to be so curious about my wonderful abilities.”
From where he stood, he looked down to her, holding her gaze with his. “I hope you don’t assume I just think of you as a joke, Phedre,” he stated, and moved to sit across from her on the other side of the tray once more. “The reason I did not take you up on your offer, it’s… complicated. You understand that, don’t you?” A pause, and he licked his lips in thought, his eyes dancing around the room as he grasped a way to comprehend it, a way to explain it to her. “All of our lives we’re taught to hate each other, and we’re used as bargaining tools for our families to end some centuries old war…”
Destan was at a loss for words. He reached for his own water glass, taking a sip, trying to find his train of thought. “It is my turn to apologize, though, as I never meant to hurt you or embarrass you. You aren’t so easy to read either, for the record.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 10:17 pm
by Simply
Phedre would deny that she had said those words with the intention of provoking a fight and on some level she was probably telling the truth. Deep down, she was itching for an argument though. Part of her wanted it to turn out like their last one. She wanted to make him angry enough that he made her silent, that the only way he could think to dissipate her anger was to place his mouth on hers, or her throat. Consciously, though, she was unaware of these hidden feelings inside of her, welling up unbidden. Blue eyes darkened as she inclined her head away from the fire, casting her face in shadow. The turn of her lips quivered before resting in a light smirk on her pink lips, still glistening from the water she had just consumed.
“Not any of my business?” The words surprised her as she stared at his back, watching him place more wood on the fire before them. “I believe that to be a completely incorrect statement, husband. Your physical needs are very much my concern. Do you plan to solve them elsewhere?” It wasn’t a particularly harsh statement but it was rather matter-of-factly asked of him. Plenty of men sought lovers outside of their marriage. It was common enough that she knew of it and even knew on of her cousins’ husbands who partook of women that were not his wife. Phedre needed to know, needed to be able to steel herself against this.
“I understand.” She almost did, but it was a half-truth. They both needed something from each other on the stairs but he was unwilling to give it and to take what she offered. It might have soothed things between them, to get the deed accomplished swiftly and without any emotions involved – just raw, basic need. He had denied her and the wound was still raw, still exposed. It ached.
Her brows rose once more. “I’m not easy to read?” She laughed and the bitterness from earlier began to seep back into her tone. “You said I am nothing but a girl, dear sweet husband of mine. You cannot read the naïve, clumsy movements and words of a girl?” Phedre was no girl but she would certainly be the woman that used his words against him at the slightest provocation. She raised herself slightly, her knees bending before her and her bottom resting gently on her feet. One hand crumbled the cheese on her plate to a fine dust without realizing it. The fire made an angry noise of protest as her rising temper, feeling the shift in the air. “You make this difficult. You chastise me for being away but don’t care if I am here. You accuse me of being a trollop but then laugh at how I have never and could never have a man I wanted due to my incompetence in such matters. And now, now you say soft words to me, kind words after telling me how deplorable I am, how I disgust you.” The anger was in her voice and in the fire that he had just fed, but metaphorically and literally.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 10:39 pm
by Dollface
Apparently, Destan said something entirely wrong and ruined the nice moment that they were having together—the first truly pleasant, calm moment they were having together—and now all of a sudden, she was angry about something he said. He removed himself from the situation for a second, trying to rack his brain for what he might have said to upset her, and though there were certainly some things that had caused irritation, he could see her going far beyond irritation to actual anger towards him.
“Come on now, Phedre,” he said, somewhat exasperated already with this, and he rolled his eyes in the opposite direction as she continued to go on. Destan sat there, his legs bent and drawn up, arms wrapped loosely around them. The heat of the fire seemed to grow, as her own personal warmth did, and there was absolutely no ignoring it. Had he been anyone else who didn’t run a little cooler, he would have been extremely uncomfortable. The only thing he was uncomfortable with presently was the growing frustration in her tone towards him.
Now he was the one who was growing angry with her, and he absolutely despised how she made that happen so quickly. “Hey,” he snapped her, averting his narrowed blue eyes in her direction again. “You are putting words in my mouth. I never made any inclination that you could never have a man you wanted. But then again, any man you want will likely not be your husband, so I suppose that this own assumption you’ve made is correct.” However, he knew that there was no mistaking that she had wanted him just as much as he wanted her earlier in the day. How had they gone from that, to the pure frustration and growing rage they felt towards each other again.
“Dammit, woman,” he rubbed a hand across his face, through his soft blonde hair, “you tell me I’m the one who makes this difficult, but do you not see how quick you are to anger?! How frustrating it is!” He exclaimed, standing now, stalking away from her to stand in front of the window he was staring out moments before she had arrived and interrupted his quiet evening. “Am I to tiptoe around you for the remainder of our marriage, because it seems to be at the snap of a finger you grow angry with something someone has spoken to you? Not everyone lives to please you, love,” he tossed over his shoulder, glancing over to her briefly before he looked in front of him again, dropping his hands to grip the window sill.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 10:52 pm
by Simply
The heat in the room intensified, causing her cheeks to flush and the fire to blaze brightly. Whitmans were naturally extremely prone to outbursts of anger. Their tempers were easily provoked. Destan seemed to be quite skilled at stoking that fire, pushing her buttons until she was ready to burst at the seams. It was so difficult to be around him, to try to dampen her innate inner fire. She had to do so every day with people that were not like her and Destan. Now that she was married to him, she had to try and control herself at all times and her irritability was closer to the surface than it had ever been. He retreated and she rose in a huff of annoyance, moving after him when he cursed at her.
The air around the window was cold and she could feel it as she reached around to turn him back towards her to face her. If he was going to be angry with her in response, then he was damned well going to look her in the eyes when he did it. Her hand released him as quickly as she had spun him around. The touch of him was currently extremely unwanted, at least she told herself that. Blue eyes sparkled up at him, alight with a need to argue, to hound him for something that he hadn’t really done of purpose.
“I am fire, Destan. My skin is always hot and my anger is always there, lurking beneath the surface. I have to suppress my nature at every turn, every moment of every day. Yet, at night, I could be myself but now, with you…” She tossed her hands up in the air and the fire leapt towards the sky as well, licking the bottom of the wooden mantle. Her back turned towards him for a moment as her hands raked through her hair. The silk tie of her robe loosened just slightly, revealing an emerald green chemise that lay beneath it, having been her attire that she would have worn to bed a while ago, had she not found him in the sitting room.
“You are! You are so terribly difficult, Destan Cerul. You play these games with me. Games you know I cannot win but you learned quickly that I hate to lose.” Her face turned towards him again and she closed the distance between them. “You taunt me. You offer soft whispers and caresses as though you do want to be married to me at least physically, at least for the briefest of moments and then you take it all back. You claim that I’m tired, that I need rest. I cannot possibly know my own mind, can I? Oh, of course not.” She placed her hand against his cheek firmly, but not in any amount that would harm him. Fingertips barely brushed his neck as she trailed down and placed her hand back by her side. “I am powerless to resist it and you know that. You toy with me like a cat does to a mouse. You enjoying making a fool out a me.” She trailed off but defiantly raised her chin, looking at him with eyes rimmed by dark lashes. “My anger is my only defense against you, Destan. It is all that I have.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 11:18 pm
by Dollface
Part of him knew that she would grow irritable with his retreat from her, but he needed to stand, be able to move around. All of a sudden he’d felt closed in sitting on the floor with her, with the fire nearby. Even if she could procure it herself, he at least felt a little safer when he wasn’t sitting directly near the flames that she could also control. When she grabbed him and whirled him around, he furrowed his brow at her, snatching his arm back from her grasp in the moment that she released him.
“Are you blaming me then? I’m sorry, but you were the one who came into this room when I was already in here. If anything, you were encroaching on me, on my time, and did I get upset with you?” Well, now he was upset with her, since she was mad at him for… whatever reason. He still felt as though she was not giving him a straight answer, which only proved to frustrate him further. With the movement of her hands being thrown in the air, he did not manage to miss the fact that her silk robe opened slightly to reveal the chemise of the same fabric beneath. Oh, he took notice that it was not one of her normal colors, and a flicker of amusement crossed his face as his blue eyes set on her.
Even when she called him difficult, ridiculed his actions, that hint of a smile played on his lips. Her hand fell to rest on his cheek, and his eyes closed lightly for the moment, reveling in the feeling of her fingertips brushing against the back of his neck. Even when they were gone, a tingling sensation dancing across his skin, causing gooseflesh to rise, still remained.
“Have you not played the same cat and mouse game? It takes two, love,” he answered as he opened his eyes, his answer matter-of-fact as he looked down at her. Reaching forward, with his eyes still on her, he reached for the sash of her robe, letting it fall slack to reveal more of the chemise that she wore underneath. “The color green suits you, you know? I have to say I was expecting burgundy, gold, red, white… Perhaps not white, it might wash you out with such fair skin, but the green…” Destan let his voice trail as he toyed with the sash slightly, before he let it drop silently against her. “I think you want to be angry at me. You want to play the guessing game with one another?” A brow tilted in her direction. “You mustn’t entirely hate me—we might be bred to hate each other, but you certainly did not hate our…” His eyes lifted briefly away from her as if searching for a word, and a hand dropped to her hip, the silk warm against his skin, “brief altercation earlier.
“It seems we use what we know against each other, Phedre,” he stated simply, shrugging his shoulder, his fingers dancing lightly up her slide, completely aware of what he was doing. “You might have your anger, but I certainly have my charm.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 11:36 pm
by Simply
The loose knot in the sash that held her soft robe in placed was undone with expert finger movements. She watched at he did her, her eyes drifting down to the space that hovered between them. If tension and desire could physically manifest, they would be electric sparks shooting back and forth between them, charged by the polar opposites that they were, yet fueled by their mutual desires. love. The way he said it made her shiver, visibly, but she hoped that it would e attributed to the cold air that rush against her skin at her newly opened robe. The bright green of the night gown was catching the light and it rested beautifully on her ivory skin. He began to speak of it, directly addressing the fact that she was wearing far less than he was at this moment and in a color that he found favorable on her. Swallowing, her blue eyes raked back towards his.
“Didn’t you hate it?” She breathed, softly, barely able to find her voice amid the dry walls of her throat. “Didn’t you want it to end or did you want me to keep yelling at you?” All negatively posed questions as she caught her sash in her own hands and held on to it as though it was her life raft. He shrugged and then his hands found her waist, gingerly playing with the thin amount of fabric that clothed her. Once more, she attempted to swallow and found it terribly difficult to manage.
“Did you want me to run from you? Did you want me to be afraid of your touch, so unnerved, giving you confidence that you would always have the upper hand, the ability to make be uncomfortable.” She kept posing the questions to him, anger lacing her voice but it was so soft now, delicate almost. The heat was evident behind her words but the force of her previous outburst no longer remained. Phedre made a decision in that moment. She chose her next course of action carefully. Or did she? Impulsivity drove her and she wouldn’t let her rational mind dissuade her from the current path she had set herself down.
“Or did you want me to fight you on your own terms, with this,” she raised hers hands and began to undo the buttons of the shirt he wore. Silence engulfed them until she had it halfway down, leaving the rest of the fabric untouched. “Did you want me to run my fingers against your skin softly,” she mimicked her words, her hand running up the exposed portion of his chest. “Did you want me to beg you, to submit to you?” The last word was barely audible, had they been any further apart. “Please, Destan, please.” Her tone was mocking but underneath was the faintest murmur of something more. “Or did you want me to do this?” Her last words before she rose to the tips of her toes, wrapped her hands in his thick hair and kissed him. The passion and anger were there, crushing him at first, before loosening slightly. Her hands turned gentle, holding him in place as she moved the tips of her toes back and forth to maintain her balance.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 11:53 pm
by Dollface
No. No. No. No. He wanted to tell her over and over again as Phedre questioned him. He was unsure of what she was leading to with the questions she posed, as she sounded almost angry and… There was something else. Obviously, she took note to the way that he spoke to her, and reacted visibly to how his hand brushed along her side. The movement ceased even as she spoke, slipping around her waist, his hand splaying across that familiar spot on the small of her back, as if to ensure further that Phedre would not be going anywhere.
“Phedre.” He whispered her name, a hint of longing in the intonation, but he stopped, for it seemed she had a plan. His young wife before him continued speaking, undoing the buttons on his shirt skillfully, and instead of watching her fingers he watched her eyes. His own fell closed at the sensation of her hands moving swiftly over his skin, the fingertips at her back grasping slightly at the silk of her robe. This was entirely different from their interaction earlier on the stairs. She was initiating it this time, and he felt as though that gave her all the power—she could take this away at any second, just as he had done before. It certainly crossed his mind that she could turn around, go to bed, and leave him wanting solely to anger him.
When her hands fell from his skin, he sighed, truly wishing that she hadn’t, and looked down to her when she falsely plead his name. And then, with her next question posed, he set to answer—but he could not, because she kissed him with such force that it nearly knocked the breath out of him, and his body warmed from head to toe, and not simply for the fact that she was pressed against him as close as she could possibly be.
Her balance rocked, and his other arm wrapped around her, lifting her off of the ground and against him briefly. Destan’s lips parted against hers, breaking the kiss briefly as his eyes opened to search hers, and he turned them lean her against the window sill, back nearly pressed up against the window. “I suppose it didn’t hurt for you to do that,” he whispered against her, lifting his hands from her hips to rest them on her shoulders. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then one to each cheek, all the while his hands drifted down her arms, her wrists, then back to her hips to squeeze and make sure that she did not stray far from him.
With Phedre so close, he felt every line, every curve to her body against him, and he certainly reveled in it at that moment. A hand lifted to the back of her neck, fingers dipping into her loose curls, “enough about what I might have wanted Phedre… I can’t be so greedy,” he stated simply, dipping his head to press a kiss beneath her ear, down her neck, to her collarbone. “What is it that you want? Can you tell me?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 12:07 am
by Simply
He accepted it. He accepted her advances and furthered them. Inside of her chest, her heart raced faster than it ever had in her life. Faster than when she was eleven and she bested her cousin in a horserace. Faster than the moment she had been ambushed by water elementalists at sixteen years old. It pounded against her ribcage, threatening to burst through her chest and present itself to the man that had her some completely in his thrall.
Then they shifted and she gasped in surprise and delight. The cool pane of the window pressed against her robe, bleeding through the fabric to chill the skin above her spine. At the feeling of it, she shivered. His hands traveled with a mind of their own and his lips expertly pressed against every single spot on her flesh that craved his touch. His mouth was so surprisingly warm and she leaned her head back just enough to sigh upwards, offering her breath to the skies. The stars twinkled outside the window, above her head, as though laughing at the predicament that the married pair had gotten themselves in.
What is it that you want? He asked her and it shattered the illusion that had fabricated itself around the pair. Swallowing hard, She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back, just enough so that his eyes were looking into hers. “This.” She breathed, hardly trusting herself to speak. “I just wanted this. A moment in which you and I could forget who we were, just a moment that we could…dissolve into without having to think of any of the consequences of our actions, as I have been doing since I was capable of my own thoughts.” Phedre was ruining the mood, most likely, but he asked and the words poured out of her like water from a pitcher. “I don’t want to think about how the very idea of you, a Cerul, disturbs me. I don’t want to talk about how much I wish our marriage had never happened. I don’t want to talk about how you frighten me.” The words left her lips before she could stop them and she placed her hand against her mouth. Her fingers scrunched together and then trailed down, dragging her lower lip with them just slightly as she placed her hand back into her lap.
Perhaps she could cover it up. “I don’t want you to stop. I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow but I don’t want you to think that it would change what is between us. I may bear your name by I will always be a Whitman. I will always be too unbearably warm to touch and I will always despise your people.” Her eyes left his and she closed them, resting her head once more against the clear pane of glass that was behind her, where he had placed her. “I don’t know what I want, Destan. I don’t.” She uttered the words carefully. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye.
“I want to hear you whisper my name again.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 12:26 am
by Dollface
Destan asked Phedre what she wanted, thinking perhaps she would kiss him again, draw him even closer than they already were. Truthfully, he did not expect a spoken answer. In a way, he supposed it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but since she was speaking he wasn’t going to silence her. Her words fell so freely from her lips, and he was shocked at how open she was with him, exposing herself in an entirely different way to him. It did confuse him, however, that she was…insulting him, and still had that same hunger in her eyes as she looked up at him.
“Well, dear, I’m sorry that I disturb you so,” he mumbled, unsure if the words were even noticed as she seemed so distracted suddenly. “If you say you don’t want to talk about it, then why are you talking about it. You were doing a perfectly good job of it just a moment ago…” His words were soft, and he lifted a hand toy with a strand of her hair before he placed it gently behind her ear. Both arms dropped to his sides then, but he kept the distance between the closed as he attempted to figure out exactly where she was headed with her speech.
She looked down, away from him, and his fingers caught her chin to tilt her attention in his direction once more. The hold on her was soft, and his hand left her chin to rest at her neck again as he dipped his forehead to look down into her eyes. “Phedre,” he whispered, as if on command, and his lips brushed tantalizingly close to hers without kissing her just yet, “Come back to me, come back to this moment. You’re thinking far too much. You being a Whitman, I a Cerul, it has no weight.” Perhaps, in regards to this, he had a thing or two to teach her about letting go. She was good with that in every other regard, with every other emotion, but he felt as if she was still holding back from him currently.
Destan kissed her tenderly at first, before parting her lips with his own, his hunger for her evident. A hand lifted then to brush over her shoulder, beneath the surface of her robe, toying with the thin strap of the chemise that covered her body. He broke away from their kiss again, but remained close, and his blue eyes searched her own, as he pushed the robe slowly down her arms before it fell to pool at her feet. To him, it was reminiscent to the way she had taken off her wedding dress weeks ago, when she had tempted him to take a bath with her on their wedding night.
“Come to bed with me tonight.” It was a statement, neither a question nor an order. He wanted her with every fiber of his being, a fire lit inside of him that threatened to combust him from the inside out.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 12:46 am
by Simply
Destan demanded her attention with a simple tilt of her chin. Her eyes searched his, knowing that there would be anger and annoyance in his eyes, but there wasn’t, not as she had expected there to be. Her breath hitched in her throat when he said her name. The way he uttered the syllables was like hearing the first music that a gentle summer rain made against the leaves of rose petals. It sang to her more then, than any fire ever had. It beckoning her and drew her in, pulling at the invisible cord that connected them. He called and she would go to him, submit herself to anything that he desired.
Phedre’s eyes closed again, relishing the sensation of his hand against her shoulder, idly playing with the straps that held her clothing against her body. It was gone before she realized it, with her arms now bare and exposed. The cool air whipped against her skin and she exhaled slowly. She pressed her lips together, uncertainty rising inside of her as she stared at him and then he said the words she had wanted to hear him say since the moment she walked into the sitting room. The woman didn’t realize it until she heard them uttered along, in his gentle, but coaxing voice.
Her voice shook as she spoke and she knew she would regret everything that was about to happened, but she was afraid. She was so terribly afraid of him, of this. The fear seeped beneath her skin, extinguishing the anger and infecting the desire she held like a plague. “I’m afraid.” The words were murmured and hover dint he air between them, dangerously indicated where her answer would lead to – them along in their own chambers, unable to sleep. She shifted her weight, feeling the fabric of her robe brushing against her feet, against the slender bones of her ankles.
“I’m afraid, Destan.” She said it again. If she was going to be so vulnerable, so honest, she might as well continue the streak. “But I want to hear you murmur my name again,” her chest rose and fell heavily with a weighty breath, “and again.” The fear stalled in its progression, slowed by the need to hear him whisper in her ear, to run his hands through her hair. She pushed him away from her and took a few steps to separate them. A minute passed in silence and her breathing still labored. Suddenly, the lady of the house turned back to her husband and she closed the distance between them. Her hands tangled in his hair and her mouth settled on his. “Yes, take me to bed.” She said breathlessly when they parted.
How they arrived at the door to his room, she could barely remember. All she knew was that she pulled him inside and pressed him against the wall just to the right of it. His shirt was fully open and she drew back from another kiss to inspect the work she must have done at some point between the sitting room and where they stood now. He was magnificent. Every muscle rippled beneath soft skin that was darker than her own was. And the fear began to creep back in then, making it hard to breath. You’re all talk. You’ve never even taken a lover, how could I assume you’d gain the confidence to take a lover other than your own husband She blinked once, her hands beginning to shake. You’d be a little puddle, at my absolute will, at a complete loss of what to do. You’re a naïve, inexperienced girl.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 1:03 am
by Dollface
There was no ignoring the fear that rattled her words so heavily. It shocked him, though it shouldn’t considering the way she spoke to him before. This was Phedre, who he had seen as fearless in just about any other regard. She stood up to him constantly, she stood up to Brunien… and she stood there, afraid of her own husband. He was not cruel, did not laugh, but instead a twist of guilt formed at the pit of his stomach. Was it his own fault that she was afraid? “I’m sorry,” he began, his mouth slack and a sigh escaping him, “if I’ve done anything to make you fearful, it was never my intention.”
Following his apology, she mentioned what she wanted from him again, and it caused a grin to curl his mouth upwards. “Phedre,” he said in a breathy manner, repeating it as he pressed his lips to her ear, speaking it against the warm flesh of her neck. He would heed to her wishes, and it was not in an attempt to bed her. Surely, that was what he wanted, but it wasn’t as though he was purposely trying to coax her. As Destan stated at the beginning of their union, he would never force her into a situation such as this if she did not want him.
And then, she was gone from him in an instant, despite doing what was asked of him. Destan wondered if this was it, if she was going to put out the fire and return to her bed alone. He found himself nervous, until she turned to face him, and quicker than she had left him, her hands tangled tightly in his hair and immediately his arms curled about her waist. Heat rose across his hips, spreading throughout the rest of his body as she gave him permission to take her upstairs.
Only with his mind did he cause the water from their glasses to jump into the flames to extinguish the fire. It was quite possibly his last conscious thought as he helped her up the stairs, his lips hardly leaving her own or some portion of her skin the entire time. Once she led them into his bedroom, he shut the door behind him and locked it, a wicked grin spreading across his features when he found himself pinned to the wall. As she seemed to admire him, he let his shirt fall from his shoulders and to the ground, and lifted a hand to her cheek, thumb brushing lightly against her skin before it moved to touch her lower lip. “You’re beautiful, Phedre,” he murmured, and began to walk her slowly towards his bed.
“You have nothing to be afraid of.” Destan spoke quietly, reassuring her as though he rea her mind. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling now, considering this was the moment that they would essentially be consummating their marriage. Destan didn’t see it that way entirely—this was more than duty. He wanted her, longed for her to his very core.
His hands dropped to her thighs. For a moment, he let his hands drift across her skin, slowly, and pressed his forehead against hers before he kissed her, his teeth nibbling lightly at her lower lip. In that moment, his hands gripped at her legs more firmly, just to lift her onto the bed, which left her at eye-level with him. “If you want me to stop, just say the word. If you aren’t ready, I understand.” He paused, licking his lips, his eyes locked directly on hers, “but I want you, I do. I’m not taunting you, I’m not going anywhere.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 1:17 am
by Simply
The sound of him saying her name, the way he caressed each letter and combine it to form the most beautiful music she had ever heard, it blew her away. She had nothing to fear from him and yet she began to tremble. This was the moment that she would lose a part of her self. She was giving him the thing she had vowed not to, never to someone like him – a Cerul. As she contemplated all of these things, his words from their previous fight firmly in her mind, his hands found the exposed skin of her legs and she gasped. This was going further than she had thought when she kissed him downstairs that first time. It was everything that he had implied but it was far more than she was prepared for.
The bed sagged just slightly beneath her weight as her husband settled her into place on the blue quilt that covered the mattress. Blue eyes searched his face and caught the way his tongue ran along his lips. She swallowed hard and the fear infected every single inch of her. “Destan…I…” His name did not come on in the same caress that hers had form his mouth. The tremor in her body began to amplify and she reached out to touch his chest and her hands visibly shoot in the air, until they came to rest on his chest, feeling the cool muscles beneath.
“I can’t.” The words escaped her and she knew that they were true. For all of her hatred for him, for all of the anger that gave way only to the basest of carnal needs, she couldn’t do this. Not now. Not yet. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she brushed her thumb across his cheek, feeling the soft stubble beneath. She tried to hold his gaze but it proved to be too hungry for her, too strong. How could he be so kind in this moment and so harsh in all the others? It baffled her and she sighed, running one hand through her hair.
“I’m sorry, I-I don’t think that I can.” A noise escaped her that was somewhere between a sob and a scoff. How pathetic she was right now. She couldn’t even take her husband to bed when she had all but seduced him to this point. His words had been completely accurate before. He knew her better than she had thought and that pained her, driving the knife of fear further into her gut.
“You were right about me, Destan.” She laughed bitterly at herself, unable to look him in the eyes as she spoke, her hand coming to rest against the green fabric of her own clothing. “I’m all talk.” The level of her voice dropped, barely forming the words through her self loathing and disappointment. “I’m a puddle, at a complete loss of what to do. Pathetic.” She paused, feeling the words ingrain themselves in her mind. “Deplorable.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 1:34 am
by Dollface
Simply by the way that Phedre spoke his name, he had the inclination that this was not entirely what she wanted at the moment, and he sighed. Not out of exasperation or frustration with her, no. In fact, he was relieved that she did say something, for he would have hated to hear later on how scared she had been in that moment that she truly didn’t want to make love to him. He simply could not help the breath that left him, especially after all of the pent up tension that had been coursing through the both of them the majority of the afternoon and evening.
Before she even said that she couldn’t do this, he removed his hands from her, not wanting to make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already did. Destan took half a step away from her, still close enough that her hands were on his chest, and only then did he reach to grasp her fingers with his own as gently as he could.
“I understand,” he whispered to her, releasing his hold on her now as he lifted himself to sit beside her on the bed. His hands sat in his laps, and his gaze fell to his hands, and he allowed her to be vulnerable with him yet again that evening. The morning hours would soon be upon them, he realized, and with the longing he had from her slowly leaving his bloodstream, he began to feel tired.
At her inclination that he was right, Destan looked up at her, a brow tilted curiously—because initially, he wasn’t exactly sure what Phedre was referring to. Then she continued, and automatically he felt guilty. “I said those things out of spite,” he reminded her simply, shaking his head. “I don’t think those things of you right now. This isn’t a situation for you to take lightly, and I understand that, love.” Destan wanted to assure her that he was not angry with her or upset, and he sighed gently with a shake of his head.
“Will you let me be vulnerable with you for a moment? And promise not to use it against me in the future should the moment arise for you to do so?” The words were lightly teasing, as he was trying to raise her spirits, to calm her and bring her anxiety level down at least a little. “I would be pleased if you slept here for the night. I want you with me, Phedre.” His voice was quiet, as once again his hand found her cheek, tilting her face slightly towards him. “I expect nothing of you. Just rest here for the evening.” His hand dropped, and he scooted then so that his back rested against the headboard, watching her to see what she might say or do. “Tomorrow, we can go back to treating each other like normal if that would please you. You could always try to set my hair on fire again, perhaps I’ll cause a thunderstorm while you go out to the stable?” He pat the spot beside him on the bed, drawing back the covers so that perhaps she would get comfortable next to him.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 6:12 pm
by Simply
The sigh made the world rock beneath her and she winced at the impending anger he was going to unleash at her. She could hear it now – how manipulative she was, how he could not stand this back and forth game they were playing. Licking her lips, she gnawed on the inside of her cheek with her teeth until it was raw and uncomfortable. He released his hold on her and she fidgeted in her lap like a scolded child. Every single one of her senses was heightened, ready to flee at the moment he gave her an opening. She needed to get out of this room and bury herself beneath the covers. {i]Goodness, I am a child.[/i] She considered, brushing away one of the curls that irritated her eyelashes.
Love. It wasn’t said with malice or annoyance or in a mocking manner. Surprise filled her chest and she looked towards him as he lifted her face upwards to meet his gaze. She smiled slightly, unable to resist the tease that he laid before her. “I can’t make any such promises.” She murmured, halfheartedly as he continued to speak. The bed jostled beneath his movements, her eyes following him as he retreated to rest his back against the elegantly carved headboard. Could she stay with him? He was being so kind, so gentle and far more understanding than she had given him credit for.
Accepting without words, she climbed beneath the soft sheets, moving next to him so that she could feel the coolness of his body radiating against her own, much warmer one. “I would never set your hair on fire.” She responded, as though the very suggestion was preposterous to her. “You’d end up bald and then where would I be? Everyone would talk about how rapidly my husband aged the moment he married me.” The grin played her lips and she found herself rested her head against his shoulder. He sat there without replacing his missing garments and she focused on not thinking about (and looking at) the shapely muscles that were mere inches from her.
Exhaustion began to seep into her bones as the fear and wanting retreated back, an army that had won the battle but the war was still to be waged. Yawning, Phedre brought her hand up to her mouth and covered it. After hiding her unladylike behavior, she tugged up the covers. The pale flesh of her cheek rested lightly on his bicep, occasionally brushed by a blonde curl.
“Did you really not appreciate my wedding dress?” She inquired suddenly, changing the topic from everything that they had just being discussing and doing together. It was something that had nagged at her for the past few months. Phedre’s mother labored with seamstresses to craft such a magnificent dress and he had merely shown his irritation for the theatrics at their wedding ceremony. “It took quite a lot of effort to” another yawn escaped her and her eyes closed, “to make it, you know.” Before she could hear his response, the events of the day proved to be more than she could combat. Sleep claimed her.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 7:32 pm
by Dollface
After the air between them calmed, and his young wife moved to lay beside him on the bed, Destan actually felt relaxed. His arm lifted to wrap around her just as soon as her head fell to his shoulder. In an absent move, he circled his thumb lazily over her skin. “I would look terribly awful, bald. Do you think there’s an elemantalist out there who can make hair sprout up out of nowhere?” With his eyes closed, he grinned, chuckling at the idea quietly, as he found himself growing more and more tired by the second with the warmth of Phedre’s body beside him. It had been a long time since he shared a bed so simply with a young woman. With their circumstances, he had been sure he wouldn’t lie beside a woman like this again.
Before he drifted off to sleep, he slipped beneath the blue blanket just as she did, and shifted on the pillows some so that he wasn’t sitting straight up anymore. Once more, he shut his eyes, and as silence mingled with the dark surrounding them, he hadn’t expected Phedre to say anything more. When she spoke up about the wedding dress though, he opened his eyes to glance at her, wondering where that thought had come from. “Oh,” he started, the word sort of plain and hanging in the air. “No, No I didn’t, I…” he was going to finish it, admit that it had actually been quite stunning, but with moments her breathing slowed, becoming regular, and he knew that she had fallen asleep on him.
If it ever came up again, Destan would tell her the truth, but for now he knew it would be better to get some shut eye himself.
He slept comfortably with Phedre at his side, and when he woke he found that she had turned in the opposite direction and he lay behind her, an arm draped over her side. The sun was just beginning to come through the windows – he hadn’t shut the curtains the night before – which meant the hours of sleep he received were few. As he slipped from the bed, sure to be quiet, he closed the curtains and turned to examine the form his wife lying peacefully in his bed. The events of the previous night came rushing back, and part of him was tempting to crawl back to bed beside her, wake her up and shower her with kisses, but the way that it had ended last night… Destan wasn’t sure it was the best idea.
He was wide awake now, but he didn’t want to rouse her any. Destan dressed himself for the day. He left the room, and first headed towards the room they were in last night before heading to his bedchambers. He picked up her robe which had been left by the window, the tray with the plates and leftover food—the servants must have been tending to other rooms, and Destan was more than glad that they hadn’t happened upon the mess that they left.
First, he returned the tray to the staff kitchen, before returning to his room briefly to leave the robe on his empty side of the bed, so Phedre would be able to cover herself after she woke.
It was a good thing he woke earlier, as Destan was reminded of business he was still to tend to when he entered his study for the morning. Before he had a chance to leave a note for Phedre—or to even have breakfast at his own table—he found one of the servants to notify his wife upon her waking up that he had to leave right away to make the appointment on time. He had to visit a friend of his family’s near the city, but it was something he had planned to do alone while Phedre had been in London. Destan knew what he was risking, leaving her without a word, but he was out the door when he realized he should have left something for her as well.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 7:51 pm
by Simply
The dreams that possessed her mind while she slept were tumultuous at best. At some point, she slipped off of his shoulder and rolled away. The pillow pressed against her cheek but the coolness of it disturbed her, even in her dreams. It wasn’t cool enough. She nearly rolled back, but his arm found her and pressed against her skin. The feel of his touch sent an icy sensation against her fingertips and it calmed her. In her dreams, it began to snow and she was standing outside in their gardens. She was dressed in a light blue gown, something that brought out her eyes and was reminiscent of a serenity pool. The flakes fell along her skin and instead of being cold, they sent a sharp heat across her skin. Closing her eyes, she exhaled and relished the moment. When Phedre’s eyes opened, instead of snow on her skin, there were familiar hands. Destan’s hands.
Shock awakened her and blue eyes flashed opened. She was breathing heavily and one hand pressed against her upper chest, feeling the warmth of her skin. The blues of his room filled her vision and she turned her head. No one was there. She shook her head and hoisted herself upwards. He was gone. Phedre took her lower lip between her teeth while her eyebrows concurrently come together in the middle. Perhaps her had just gone down to breakfast, not wanting to startle her if she found him beside her in the morning. Yes, that had to be it.
Rising, the young woman realized that she had nothing to cover herself with. Cursing rather loudly, she bit her lip again and moved to the door. If she made sure that not a single staff was in the hall, she might be able to run down the hallway to her bedroom and dress herself. Peering around the door, the blonde didn’t see anyone in her way and hurriedly fled down the hall. “Lady Cerul!” Someone shouted with a shaky voice as she passed the stairs.
“In a moment, please.” She said, passing by as a blur of pale skin and green garments. Slamming the door to her bedroom behind her, she panted, clearly out of breath from the excursion and the terror at being seen by one of her male servants in nothing but her night gown. Shaking her head, she looked in her closet for something to wear. Something comfortable, for she wanted to ride and release some of her pent up energy. Black breeches and leather riding boots covered her lower half with a burgundy top.
Descending, she noticed that the dining room was empty. Frowning, she searched the house for him before stopping a maid. “Do you know where the master of the house went?”
“Yes, Lady. He went into town for business.”
“Oh? Did he leave any word for me?”
“No, my lady.”
“Ah, thank you.” She responded and the nervousness began to grow. It spread throughout her and started nagging at her. Her thoughts swirled and bubbled up. Perhaps, he had left because last night was uncomfortable. Maybe he had only been nice in the moment, regretting his decision when he woke up the next morning. No, that couldn’t be it.
Phedre tried to push the thoughts away as she had the horse master saddle her mare. The woman rode for hours, exhausting herself and the steed that carried her. The ride did nothing but make the thoughts in her mind worse. She was convinced that he had left on purpose, as retaliation for her disappearance for weeks on end. Damn him. As she entered the house once again, the fiery rage inside of her swelled up again. She spent the remainder of the day walking around the house, angrily moving things about in the purpose of “redecorating.”
When she got her hands on him, well, he better hope that an elementalist could help the hair on his head grow back.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 8:49 pm
by Dollface
It didn’t occur to Destan until he was in his carriage and on his way out of town that Phedre might think he had left her purposely or out of spite. After the tumultuous nature of the afternoon and evening before, Destan would have preferred to stay at the house, but he could not go back on his word regarding these matters he was obligated to tend to.
In the time that Phedre had been away, Destan had made agreements to meet his family’s friends to see about purchasing an extra carriage from them, and another horse for the stables. He spent all afternoon examining everything before settling the agreement, to have everything sent to the Cerul home in a week, and finally he was on his way back to his estate and his wife. The trip seemed to take forever, and at some point he dozed off inside of the carriage, until the horses came to a halt in front of the gate. He felt weary, after having slept so little the night before and being so friendly and alert for the entire day. It was closing in on supper time – normally, he might have been in his sitting room again with a cup of tea with some finger sandwiches, but he felt as though he needed a heftier meal than that.
The front door opened for him before he finished taking the steps up into his home, and his manservant gave him a very warning look. “Lady Cerul has been waiting for your return, sir.” He said to the young master, and Destan suddenly felt all the warmth inside the home rush onto him quickly. In moments, the warmth became extremely uncomfortable, and he checked the dining room first to see if she might have been in there. Relieving himself of his things he brought along, he moved on to the sitting room with the large glass window looking over the garden—and she was not there, but a fire burned brightly in the fireplace.
He wandered from room to room, before he finally came upon her where he should have checked in the first place: in the room they had shared one of their better moments. Destan came upon the entrance of the smaller sitting room, watching her for a moment a she seemed to be…rearranging his furniture—and his eyes flickered quickly to the fireplace to see she had started another one there as well. “Phedre,” he said as he stepped in slowly, trying to gauge her reaction.
From what he could tell, she was not happy, and he had an idea why.
“Is this what you have been doing all day? Rearranging furniture and lighting every fireplace in the house?” Although the thought was slightly amusing, his tone did not sound such. Destan didn’t want her to think that he was amused with her frustration, because he had been in the exact same place yesterday when she returned home after her three week vacation in the city. “I’m sorry I didn’t notify you of my departure this morning—I woke early, I didn’t want to disturb you, and realized at the last moment I had some business to tend to with a friend of my father’s that I had already committed to.”
With a sigh, he made a step towards her, reaching for her wrist to stop her movement for a second. “Frederick was meant to tell you that I’d be returning home late. I hope you can accept my apology.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 9:23 pm
by Simply
The fire in the sitting room would have made it unbearable for anyone but a fire wielder to relax within its walls. Blue eyes traveled over the chairs and she stared hard at the burn mark she had made in the sitting chair the night before. Well, it was already ruined. Flicking her wrist, she ignited it and allowed the smell of burning wood to comfort her as she began to tug at one of the tables that lined the wall beside the fireplace that roared with a flame far hotter than necessary. The effort she was exerting made her forehead begin to glisten in the light. The servants had all been careful to avoid her as much as possible since she returned from the stables. Annabelle had brought a tray of sandwiches in two hours before Phedre’s husband returned. She had eaten two and left one half consumed on the metal.
So consumed with the work she was doing, she didn’t hear him enter until his voice broke through her concentration. “I was cold.” She responded plainly, narrowing her eyes at him as she whirled around to face him. There he was, dressed finely for business in the city. Business that he left her for at the drop of a hat. What if it was for a woman? She turned her head to the side and the thought festered like a wound. That had to be it. Business, ha. He went into town in order to satisfy the needs that she could not.
The anger burst through. “Your apology?” Her jaw moved to one side as though she has been struck, before pressing her lips back together. “Did you think it would be acceptable to leave a message of your departure with a manservant who promptly forgot!? Bloody hell, a note would have been better than that.” Her hang flew to her lips and she inhaled as though shocked. “Oh wait, we learned that notes were not an acceptable form of communicate. It’s much better to leave a message with an insensible servant. “
Blue eyes flashed when he grabbed her wrist and she jerked in an attempt to free herself. “ I understand you don’t want my company, but the least you could have done was tell me at breakfast you planned on leaving.” Her words were eerily similar to the ones he had assaulted her with when she returned from London. It was appropriate, wasn’t it? She smiled irritably. “Last night was a disappointment to you, I get it. I understand that you’re chained to me but the decent thing to do would be to at least tell me when you plan on fleeing from my side before I wake up.”
The fire began to dwindle slightly but the heat in the room was still agonizing, even she had begun to sweat just along the line of her hair. Blonde hair began to cling to her neck. “Just, don’t Destan. Please don’t, just don’t. Just…if you need to find someone to satisfy what I cannot please just…” The words came out as a growl and the flames in the fireplace leapt upwards.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 10:24 pm
by Dollface
Destan’s eyes watched her steadily, so much so he could practically see the wheels in her head turning as he said he’d been out for business. What she was assuming, he couldn’t have known, and he stood there none the wiser for the time being and hoping that he could quell her anger. He had assumed they had started making some progress in their very unconventional relationship, and now it seemed as though it had been dialed back another dozen steps or so. “Phedre, I would have left a note, but I needed to leave here immediately to arrive on time, and the quickest thing I thought to do was notify one of our staff—who is perfectly capable, might I add.”
His words were a quick retort. Destan was tired, he wanted to eat and then either go to his room and relax or read a book until he felt like he might fall asleep. He thought maybe they might try and spend some sort of time together, but apparently that notion was one he should not have entertained in the first place. Destan’s lovely wife was furious and as she snapped her arm away from his touch, he took a couple of steps to put some distance between the two of them. For now, he had remained calm, until she went on accusing him of not wanting her in his company.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” He snapped, turning away from her but not making any move to completely walk out of the room. They both learned the day before that neither liked to be stormed out on in the middle of the conversation. Destan probably would have lost his hair, like she threatened previously. His hands rubbed quickly over his face, a sound of frustration escaping him as he turned back around to look at her.
“Phedre.” Her name passing from his lips did not sound sweet, or pleasant, and his own frustration was apparent with her now. The heat from the fire was too much that he could handle, and before he could say anything to her, he whirled a sphere of water into the fireplace to extinguish it, long streams of steam floating throughout the room now. “Would you please give me a chance to explain myself before you go throwing such an accusation in my face, especially after last night? After I shared my bed with you?”
He did not realize at that moment they were practically reliving their argument yesterday. Phedre accused him of such unfaithfulness and he was appalled—just as she had been. “I went to do business with a friend of my father, to see about acquiring both a carriage and a new horse from him, and I planned this trip while you happened to be away,” he spoke through his teeth, his brows drawn together as he looked down at her, “I have absolutely no reason to stray from you or fulfill my needs elsewhere.”
A pause, and he sucked a breath in, attempting to calm his own anger now. “After being so open with you last night, it’s almost insulting that you would insinuate that I would do such a thing to hurt you. I’m sorry that you think me to be so vindictive.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 10:44 pm
by Simply
By all means, explain yourself then.” Phedre spat, crossing her arms against her chest and holding herself tightly in place. Blue eyes turned dark, hiding her anger beneath the surface and allowing the fire to die down behind her until it was only a pleasant crackle to their ears. The desire to burn the room down was lingering but she merely gritted her teeth together and maintained her composure as best as she could.
Was she being a little melodramatic? Was she being a little quick to accuse him? Perhaps. The idea sunk into her and made her shift back and forth on her feet for a moment, as if trying to physically place her weight on the side of the argument that she was going to proceed with. Another carriage? Whatever possibly for? And another horse – he didn’t like riding, he had said as much to her the first time that they had dined together. The suspicious side of her crawled back towards the front of her mind. Just give him a minute. Just a moment more for him to explain.
“You’ve been open with me?” She rolled her eyes, unlocking her arms from their place within each other. “Oh please, husband. One night of asking me to stay with you is hardly being open with me. When I inquired about your previous love affairs, you brushed me off faster than I could get the words out of my mouth.” Phedre licked her lips, moving towards him just a few steps, careful to keep the distance between them. She tried to remain calm and took a slow breath through her nose, letting the air cool her lungs. Stay very calm.
“You’re positively impossible to read. It’s terribly frustrating. You’re accusatory and then you’re kind. You’re interested in me and then you disappear without a word. “ Her eyebrows came together as though she was going over the events in her head once more. “Do you know what it felt like? Do you know how I’ve been rearranging this cursed house the entirety of the day in an attempt to get you off of my mind?!” She threw up her hands and then ran them through her long hair, clasping the back of her neck for a moment. “All I could think of was that you regretted it. You wake up and have to get away, so far away that you can’t even stay in the house.” It all sounded preposterous when she said it out loud and her voice began to lower little by little. Turning back to him, she didn’t look him in the eyes.
“I felt your …your…” She merely gestured with her hand. “...that…last night. I’m not naïve enough to miss what you wanted from me. Your skin was hot, it was so warm.” The insinuation was evident. “It’s wasn’t hard to think that you might need to…I do not know...need someone else to do what I couldn’t!” Her voice rose again because if it remained soft, she might not be able to stay mad at him.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 11:26 pm
by Dollface
“Dear lord,” he groaned, rolling his eyes as she brought up his past love affairs once more. “What is it would you like to know about my past, hm? Would you like the names of my past lovers? Would you like me to rally them up, invite them over for breakfast, have some tea with them?” Destan didn’t understand why she had to be so curious about the other women he had slept with in the time before he’d been married to her. “Why is it that you care so much if you don’t even like me? It should be none of your concern what I did before I married you. I’m not ill, I will not pass anything on to you, and if that is all you are worried of, then you won’t have to worry anymore.” A pause, and he realized something else, “unless, for whatever reason, you are jealous of these women.”
Perhaps it was preposterous for him to assume such a thing, considering she didn’t know anything of these other women other than the fact that he’d taken them to be before Phedre, and that he had more experience than she did. At least, he could see her making an attempt to calm herself, where previously it seemed as if she didn’t care. Well, yesterday she had gone outside to let off a little steam, but she had come in physically steaming instead due to the storm that crashed on her.
Now, she actually seemed hurt by his actions, which he would never have intended in the first place at all. He thought he had done her a service by letting her sleep in, by not waking her after they’d retired so late. “Well I didn’t, Phedre. I’m sorry you thought such a thing, that I would be so crude towards you. Clearly you don’t know my nature at all.” He glowered at her, twisting it in such a way that now she was the one that had hurt him. He was in fact not that insulted by her words, but he was mildly annoyed with the frustration she displayed.
And then, well, any sort of anger he felt began to dissipate because he could not help but be amused at the way she insinuated that she had felt him against her when they nearly made love last night. Destan kept a straight face though, his appearance not faltering, and instead, he managed to look completely exasperated. “Would you, just—“
He didn’t finish that statement, and went in for the one defense mechanism he knew he certainly had against her. Destan reached for her face and her waist, pulling her towards him to kiss her again. A part of him told himself that he was doing this to diffuse the situation – but even after last night, he still wanted to do it again, and again, and again. “You just need to stop talking sometimes.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2015 11:39 pm
by Simply
“How can I not want to know?!” The reply was swift. “How can I not be curious about them, however many there are out there in the world?” It was something that she had thought about since she had brought it up previously in their conversations. Destan had that advantage. She was not imbecile – she knew what mean wanted to hear, what they wanted to see, but she had no idea really beyond that. Oh of course she knew the mechanics of it. Her mother and her cousins had made certain to inform her just how she was supposed to perform her wifely duty to the Cerul that she was not attached to. It had been a very uncomfortable conversation with the matriarch of the Whitman household to say the very least.
He apologized again and she almost got irritated by it. “Oh stop apologizing to me.” She murmured. Her husband hadn’t stopped apologizing since he walked into the room and it made her all the more angry that he was keeping a much more civil head than she was. If he would stop saying how sorry he was, it would be much easier to maintain her current position of anger.
The man knew how to put out all the fires she started. With the familiar placement of his hand against the small of her back, she allowed herself to be pressed against him. His mouth hovered above hers and he growled the words at her. Complaining about how she never stopped talking. Well that was not true at all. She was very good at keeping quiet…oh, who was she jesting? She was miserable at not giving up the last word in a conversation or argument. That was something he had learned about her very quickly.
“Fine.” Phedre said, running her hands around his neck and into his hair. She brought his mouth down on hers and the heat blossomed through her again. Every time she kissed him, every time he managed to mollify her, she felt the need inside her grow. He was a Cerul, the man she had been forced to marry and the same man she had been trained to hate, to fight, to kill. Puling back, her hands loosened around his neck, falling to rest on either side of his chest gently. A soft noise left her lips, best described as a contented mew. She closed her eyes and brought her left hand towards her face. Her forefinger ran along her bottom lip, damp from the silent encounter.
“As you can see, I am quite capable of being quiet.” Phedre realized that the moment she said it, it probably didn’t need to be said. The ridiculous urge inside of her to always get the last word in a conversation had jumped out yet again. Dammit. She thought to herself, her cheeks flushing. Her hope was that he would attribute that to the physical exchange and not her realization that she could, indeed, not stop talking.
Posted: Tue Jul 21, 2015 12:18 am
by Dollface
It was sheer relief to have her lips on him again. He almost hated how good it felt to have her in his arms, to hold her against him, to run his fingers through her blonde hair. From the outside looking in to their exchange, they would have looked so desperate coming together like that, the way he held her like she might dissipate like mist between his fingers. And then, she did in a way, as she pulled back and away from him. A sigh escaped him as he let his forehead drop to hers.
The room was quiet. She was quiet. Well. For a moment.
She spoke, and he grinned, because of course she had the last word and of course she had to say something. “Au contraire, wife.” He stated simply, and gave her hip a squeeze before he stepped back from her, removing his touch from her completely. “You are so entirely incapable of keeping quiet. And here I thought kissing you might fix it,” he teased, running a hand through his hair this time to fix whatever might have been mussed in their most previous encounter. “I suppose I can’t just do that every time to cool you down.”
From what he knew, it actually had drawn quite the opposite reaction from her, as they experienced when they nearly went to bed together. That was something Destan was wary to joke about at all now, for the only thing she seemed to be truly insecure about when it came to their marriage was the lack of men she’d been with before their union. “The other horse and carriage I went to acquire, by the way,” he began, and moved to sit on one of the newly rearranged chairs that still faced her, “they will be for you, arriving early next week actually.”
Now, this was the part he was slightly nervous to speak of, because Destan wasn’t quite sure what her reaction might be. His pause lasted a beat too long, before he sighed, tipping his head to the side to look up at her, blue eyes meeting Phedre’s. “I have to be in the city from tomorrow into next week as well, I’ll be staying at the London home. And you will stay here, as I would prefer it whilst I’m on business.” He had no excuse to say she would be bored, because she could go anywhere in the city if she liked. But this was not going to be a negotiable matter. “That is part of the reason I wanted to secure the carriage and horse so soon, so they would arrive and you would use them if necessary – or if you wished to leave and visit your family.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Tue Jul 21, 2015 10:29 pm
by Simply
The moment was gone yet again, passing by like all their others in the past few months. “ For me?” Her brows came together and suspicion leaked into her mind, momentarily. Phedre didn’t allow it to grow into anything more than just an inkling of curiosity. Once more, she crossed her arms and watched him lower himself into the chair that hadn’t been burnt to a crisp. As she watched him, he appeared to grow uncomfortable and uncertain about how to proceed with whatever he was going to tell her. An odd sensation ran up the length of her spine, one she was incapable of putting a name to.
“What business?” She asked, her brows coming together. A week wasn’t that long – after all, she had been gone from their home for nearly a month. The newlywed woman shouldn’t get up and that is what she kept telling herself over and over again. Do not get upset at him. Licking her lips, she lowered herself into the chair opposite his that she had placed there earlier in the evening. One leg crossed over the other, as she was still wearing her riding clothes from the afternoon. The fabric was loose about her body and immensely comfortable. Phedre would wear this all the time, if it was socially acceptable. Naturally, she loved long gowns and extravagant pieces but she also enjoyed dressing like a ma. There was something very freeing about it.
“And why is it that I can’t accompany you to the city?” That was the part that really bothering her, that he was making an explicit point of forbidding her to attend with him. Because he was with someone else? No, no no. He had just vehemently denied that he was with another woman. She assumed that he might show her the decency of being honest about a lover. Phedre wouldn’t be jealous, she convinced herself, but she would not tolerate lying. The idea of her husband being dishonest with her and that someone else might know more about her marriage than she did, that was the unnerving part of the whole situation. Biting on her lip, she held up a hand.
“I want t know and I’m not saying this to irritate you…” She trailed over and took a slow breath. “If it is for a woman. Just wait!” Phedre snapped when he shifted slightly in his chair as though he might speak or interrupt her. “If you ever need someone, I just ask that you tell me first. The idea doesn’t bother me as much as people whispering behind my back and I not knowing the reason for their sly glances and hurried looks away from me.” She leaned forward then, uncrossing her legs and placing her elbows on her knees. The entire pose was extremely unladylike but it was comfortable on her lower back, currently aching because of the effort of moving around all of the furniture.
Yet still, even after saying she just wanted to know about his, the idea that she couldn’t even go into the city this week made her irritated. “So why is it that I can’t visit the city?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Tue Jul 21, 2015 11:10 pm
by Dollface
There was a reason that he was being rather vague with Phedre about his business in the city for the week. It wasn’t for a woman, of course; he was truthful in that he did not need to look for what she had not given him. It had much to do with the fact that he had not yet given her a ring, and the fact that the Christmas holiday would be coming up quickly. Destan did not even want to hint too much towards what he would be leaving for as he didn’t want to give anything away – but then again, she had to know that she would be receiving her ring soon enough. However, it was important that Destan got it just right, and it was also important that it was ready in time so he could present it to her properly as a gift.
So when she asked what sort of business, he did grow uncomfortable, as he wasn’t exactly the best at being truly dishonest. When it came to the little back and forth of theirs, the games they played, it was certainly different.
Drawing in a breath, he let her continue, eyeing her carefully and set his hands in his laps. He wanted to physically roll his eyes as she brought up once again his finding another woman, or take her by the shoulders and shake her to convince her that he wasn’t going to be going behind her back in any such way. “Phedre.” He said her name with a sort of finality, a brow raised as if to say not to test him any longer with this subject. “That isn’t going to occur at all, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring it up again.” A sigh escaped him, and he matched her posture, leaning forward on his elbows with a sly smile on his lips. “But if for whatever reason I go mad, or you drive me to such insanity, I will have the decency of letting you in on the secret before anyone found out.”
Maybe she wouldn’t quite appreciate that answer, but Destan felt as though he shouldn’t have had to convince his wife that he wouldn’t be taking a lover—even if they weren’t entirely physical in their own marriage. Now, onto the more pressing matter—
“I should warn you, that you may not be happy with my answer,” he lifted his hand, his fingers grazing his chin and jaw for a moment before dropping it to dangle by his knee, “because I can’t give you a proper explanation.” Lips pressed together, and he waited for the impending blow that she was going to throw him. “I can only tell you that it has to do with the upcoming holiday and the fact that I do not want anything spoiled for you before then. And I’m sure there are other things I will have to tend to that would merely bore you, so truly, I would just prefer for you to stay here for the time being.”
The young Cerul leaned back into his chair, tilting his head once more to examine her, taking note of how comfortably she sat, and he noted how stunning she still managed to look even in her riding clothes… and after spending the afternoon pushing furniture around their large home. “I hope that answer will suffice for the time being.” A small smile flickered across his lips, and he sighed, sending a glance outwards and towards the hallway. “I’m sure that after your day of redecorating you would be famished, and after my traveling I know that I am,” he said, standing from his chair and extending his hand for you to take, “what do you say to supper and then heading upstairs for the remainder of the evening?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2015 5:32 pm
by Simply
“I do not like the way you said my name this time.” She whispered, knowing no one outside of the room would be able to hear them.
It was true, he should not have to convince the woman he was married to that he hadn’t taken a lover. Yet, it was not uncommon. Her father had taken lovers, she realized when she was ten years old. Her parents did not love each other but they had a mutual respect for one another and so her mother did not worry with the occupants of her father’s bedchamber. Before their wedding, Phedre would have welcomed the idea of Destan taking someone instead of her. Now though…now, the desire that filled her when he whispered her name, now she wanted him more than anything. It was not an emotional attachment. She had come to that realization while she had been riding. But she did want him to want her physically, to think of her when his passion began to build inside of him.
“Indeed, I am not pleased with that response in the slightest.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously at him, threatening to allow that anger to bubble over. Exercising self control, she tossed her head slightly and forced the thoughts aside. “I suppose it will suffice,” her words were soft, “for now.” The promise in those words was immense and she took his hand when he offered it. “Heading upstairs for the remainder of the evening?” The dynamic drastically shifted. She could take the change in the air.
The cool touch of his fingers around her hand sent a shiver down her spine then, and she let him see the effect visibly on her. Phedre took a step towards him. The heat that radiated from her body was unable to be denied. “What exactly do you have in mind for the remainder of the evening, dear husband?” She lingered against him for a moment. The hand that was not inside of his reach up and brushed back some of the strands of hair that had come loose from the way he kept it styled back from his face. He knew what her limits were. He knew that she would not be able to follow through with any of this nonsensical game that they played with one another. But he knew that she could handle it to a point, that she wanted his fingers around her waist.
“Perhaps you would be able to help me undress?” Both of her eyebrows rose upwards. “Or perhaps you have something else in mind. Perhaps dinner upstairs…just us. And I could convince you to divulge all those secrets you’re keeping from me.” Her hand ran down his face, grasping his chin between her thumb and the bend of her forefinger, reminiscent of his own actions. “I do no like secrets, Destan.” She breathed.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2015 7:46 pm
by Dollface
Destan was not even going to try to be too sly about shifting the conversation away from his impending business trip that he wasn’t allowing Phedre to accompany him on. He was intent on it being an argument that she wouldn’t win—he even played with the idea in his head that, if she could go off on a small vacation for weeks without him, couldn’t he do the same? That sort of tit for tat would not help their situation in the least. Not when Destan saw her demeanor physically shift before his eyes.
She seemingly took the bait as she stood close to him, her hand warm as he held it still for a moment. When she questioned him, raising her hand to brush his hair back, he then dropped her hand to hold her at the waist, fingers bunching slightly into the fabric of her riding shirt. He took note of how it was looser around her, different from the form fitting gowns that were tight at the waist. But this shirt allowed him to drop his hand beneath the hem quietly, letting his cool touch rest against her side. “I can’t say I have any definite plans,” this much was true, “but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to spend some time with my wife, after we both seem to have had very long, full days.” Phedre did decide, after all, to go around and rearrange everything – it was then he also wondered if she had done the same in his own quarters, but to stave off a fight, he decided not to question her about it for the time being.
Instead, Phedre was now the one posing the questions, the type that certainly seemed all too tempting.
Of course, until, she mentioned that her goal was to draw his secrets out of him.
Destan couldn’t help but to smile down at her. “Oh, Phedre,” he breathed her name, the sigh a sort of a sign of resignation, “the problem is that you see this as a secret..” With his free hand, Destan reached for her own again, removing it from his chin and pressed a lingering kiss against her knuckles. “Think of it as a surprise. You wouldn’t want to spoil your own surprise would you?” A dark brow tilted upwards and he dropped their hands back to his side. “I would not mind helping you undress,” he spoke casually as the hand that still hid beneath her riding blouse shifted carefully to the small of her back, just above the waist of her pants, “and I would be more than happy to have our dinner served upstairs to enjoy it alone with you.”
There was a lingering ‘but…’ hanging off of his words, as he pulled her closer to him to close whatever gap was left. “There certainly won’t be any way that you’d be able to pull any of it out of me.” A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, “do you really think it would be that easy? Were you thinking you could simply take me to bed tonight and entirely change my mind about my decision?” Although, he thought, he couldn’t argue if she decided to try.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2015 8:41 pm
by Simply
Her name again. The murmur of it, and the sigh he exhaled following the last syllable made her knees go weak. It did not help the matter that his hand slipped beneath her shirt, tantalizingly soft against her smooth skin. Destan maintained his casual conversation with her, as though he had no idea that he was drawing her in with each word, with each absentminded movement of his fingertips. Damn him. Did he always have to turn the tables on her? She struggled to stay in control of herself and to not pull him up the stairs and send for food when she had satisfied her urges.
“I wouldn’t mind if the surprised was spoiled.” She responded, looking away from him as the thought of him surprising her was a mere annoyance. In the back of her mind, the idea excited her and unknowingly the left half of her mouth curled upwards slightly, giving her away yet again. Her ears were finely tuned to the word that remained unsaid as he accepted her invitation to dine upstairs. Blue eyes turned back to him and scanned over his face, lingering on his mouth. The anticipation of the words was driving her mad and she shifted her weight, just as he closed the distance between them. The movement drew her attention to him once more, focusing her.
His words made her smile, devilishly. “Husband, are you absolutely positive that there is nothing that I can do that might persuade you to divulge some secret you keep?” Her hands trailed down his chest. One remained just over his heart, feeling it beat rapidly. The other continued its descent and rested on the upper hem of his pants. There, she waited and made no more movements. “Not one, single, tiny thing that I could do to make you whisper truths in my ear.” With each descriptive before ‘thing,’ she ran her forefinger back and forth along the hem of his breeches.
“I never said that it would be easy to draw the words from you, but I am willing to try a great deal of persuasive techniques to get what I want from you, Lord Cerul.” She said the name with the least amount of contempt she had ever managed. In fact, it came out as a sigh, resonant of a lover’s caress. That would certainly surprise him, she had no doubt. She rose up on her toes and his hand dropped further downward on her back. Phedre struggled to ignore it. Instead, she moved the hand from his heart to his hair and tangled it firmly in the strands. It wasn’t a harsh movement but it was pleasantly rougher than normal. She brought his mouth a hair from her own. When she spoke next, her lips brushed against his. “But if you rather I not try…”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2015 11:55 pm
by Dollface
Destan was sure he’d gained the upper hand again. It was so easy when he had her so close to him, for her to fold and bend to his will, and he was sure he could get her to forget for a moment—or until he had to leave the next day—about everything. But even there was a fault in his plan, as she seemed to be playing along well today. Her hands were beginning to roam, and he was more than glad that he was rather good at keeping himself composed in most situations. This was different. This was Phedre. This was his wife’s hand roaming to his chest, the other drifting into the entirely opposite direction… Involuntarily, his body tensed, and his body warmed immediately to her touch.
It took nearly everything in him not to just cart her up the stairs right then and there. She ignited something in him, he hadn’t felt such a longing for another person in ages. With very fiber of his being, he wanted her, and every feeling from the night before came flooding back to him. Perhaps that’s exactly what she wanted, to make him feel that way again just in attempt to get him to change his mind before she decided to pull away and take everything back.
Not a word left him, simply a hum of contemplation as though he truly considered that she might be able to change his mind. “If we’re being literal here,” he began after a second, the smile on his lips playing on the side of mischievous, “I’m not being dishonest with you, Phedre. I’m simply withholding, which is entirely different, as there’s the full intention of you knowing the truth when the moment’s just right.”
Although, he wasn’t sure she was going to settle for an answer like that. Her fingers lazily traced along the waistband of his trousers and he looked down to watch for a moment before he met her eyes. “A great deal of techniques you say?” He narrowed his eyes, reaching down for her hand to cease the playful touch, while his other hand still remained snug at her back. Her next movements happened so quickly it was hard to register that he had let her garner much of the control for right now, and while his heart was thudding wildly in his chest, his breath catching in his throat, he was trying to think of a way to turn this around.
“Oh, I would love for you to try, truly,” he whispered quietly against her lips, as the hand beneath her top began to move slowly upwards along her back, tracing slowly up and down along her spine. “I’m just not sure that I believe still you’d make such advances to trick me into bringing you along.” Destan’s lips widened again into a Cheshire smile, and he just barely brushed his lips against hers before retreating. “I would not suggest doing anything here, with everyone about, however. Our staff doesn’t need such a show, my darling wife.” It was then that he began to pull back from her, bringing his hand out from under her shirt to rest at her hip now. “And still, as lovely as you are, as much as I may want you…” He spoke plainly, casually again, “it just isn’t going to work on me.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 12:26 am
by Simply
All she could think about was the way his hand traveled up and down, up and down, up and down. Goosebumps followed like obedient lambs toward their shepherd at these precisely calculated movements. But then he moved her hand and withdrew. Phedre could not help but roll her eyes at this. His hand left from its place on her back and rested on her hips. The most exasperated sigh escaped her lips and she tossed her head, moving away from him. She was not mad, per say, but she was very much irritated with his lack of enthusiasm for her interrogation techniques. “Well,” the words left her lips like a poison as she brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen loose from her attempts at interior decorating, “I suppose it is not worth the effort then. You clearly know that any attempts I make would yield no results so I think it wise just to conserve my energy.” She straightened her shift and tucked it back into the hem of her riding breeches, careful to make sure that her hands did not brush away the lingering chill that his hands had provided her with. While she may be infuriated, she still had enjoyed the tempting way he responded to her.
“I think I am going to have Sarah run my bath. Then perhaps I might join you for dinner. I have had such a tiring, full day after all and I may just be too exhausted after all of my work to visit your chambers.” She headed out of the room, motioning to one of the other maidservants and instructing her to fetch her lady’s maid and have the basin filled with water so that she might cleanse herself after a hard day of riding and moving about the furniture in their home.
“If I am not there soon, husband, and you will leave for the city on the morrow, I hope you enjoy yourself immensely. I would hate for you to be dissatisfied with your decision.” A smirk played her mouth. Phedre was not mad, but she was also not very pleased with the course of the evening’s events. She would have much preferred for him to give in to her, just slightly, rather than hold is ground. Oh, she would even have settled for some minor secret unrelated to his upcoming London adventure. There was only so much she could do however, and he seemed adamant about resisting any temptations she threw in his direct, no matter how lovely he thought she was being.
“Do be a dear and make certain that Matthew sends hot towels up in thirty minutes or so from the stove in the laundry. They do make quite a finale after a long soak.” With that, Phedre disappeared out of the room and headed up the stairs. Serves Destan right.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 12:59 am
by Dollface
Destan had to watch her carefully, analyzing her reaction to the way that he spoke to her, insinuating that there was nothing Phedre could do to change his mind about having her accompany him for the following week in London. He wasn’t sure that this was even a ploy for him to continue to pursue her further, despite the fact that he had told her more than once now that he would prefer if she stayed behind this time. When she began to head out of the room, he followed after her slowly, and wondered if maybe he had made a mistake after all as he watched her begin to saunter away from him.
He matched her smirk perfectly at the suggestion that he might be dissatisfied with his decision—and already, a part of him might have been. But it was then that he did begin to wonder if she was just trying to string him along to play her little game of attempting to seduce him. Their back and forth, while frustrating, was also refreshing, and he also had to wonder if a short reprieve from each other could make that more interesting when he returned. Distance may have made the heart grow fonder, but this had nothing to do with Destan’s heart right now and everything to do with the fact that he was quite fond of the idea of eventually falling into bed with Phedre.
“Of course, love,” he replied to her sweetly, probably too much so, when she requested the warm towels, and already Destan knew that Matthew would not be the one directly deliving the hot towels to the fire bender in the next half hour.
When he caught up to the requested manservant, he also spoke to the staff about having their dinner served in Phedre’s bedchambers so that they could dine after her bath. In the time that she was busy soaking, Destan had gone to his own room, changing from his business attire to something more casual. He danced very closely to the line of making Phedre wait for her hot towels—and Destan retrieved them himself before he began to make his way to the second floor once more, and turning right, in the direction of his wife’s bedroom. The door was cracked open, and he only gave a knock to alert that someone was first entering the room, but decided to surprise her and didn’t call out to say that it was him arriving.
The warm towels were draped over his arm as he stepped into the bathroom, a smile fixed on his lips as he let his eyes drift over her form soaking in what he suspected was nearly scalding water. “Your towels, as requested, Phedre,” he spoke smoothly, his expression never wavering as he came to sit along the edge of the tub so that he was opposite her. “I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty to bring them up myself, and also have dinner sent to your room before you turn in for the night.” He set the towels down beside him before folding his hands, letting them drop easily towards his knees. “Are you feeling rejuvenated after your soak? I do hope you won’t be too exhausted to join me tonight.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 1:22 am
by Simply
The water lapped against the sides of the porcelain tub as she slipped beneath the waters and the foam that rested on the surface. The soap was new, a concoction of the local laundress. She had created it for her husband and it bubbled up immensely more than any other oil or potion that she had obtained before. Sighing in immense pleasure, the water grew hotter by the moment, capable of boiling the skin of a normal human. Instead, it calmed the inner fire that raged inside of her at all times. Scrubbing her head, she made certain that all the salt that had clung to her was washed away. Smiling, she began to wonder where her towels were.
The door opened and she didn’t bother to open her eyes. “Place them on the chair Sarah.” She said, before hearing a voice that most certainly was not that of her lady’s maid. Opening her eyes, startled, her husband stood before her. Immediately, she was very aware of her lack of clothing and her salvation in his hands. She did her very best not to squirm beneath his roaming eyes, but she couldn’t help but lift her knees u so they bent, protruding slightly out of the water that warmed her still. Sitting, her eyes narrowed at him slightly as she reached for one of the towels that rested beside him. Her hand rested on the fabric but she made no move to take it.
“I do not mind,” Phedre lied. She most certainly did mind! How dare he waltz in on her as though she had requested his presence to help her in bathing?! She had asked him before and he had refused. Now when she did not ask him, he just allowed him to take liberties with her. Making a motion with her other hand that was dismissive of his words, she shifted in the water so that it would have been easier to access the warm towels, but impossible to do so without brushing against him, just slightly.
“I do feel much better, thank you, husband. Though I would appreciate if you would remove yourself from the side of my tub so that I may dry myself off. I have been sitting here for longer than I intended.” Blue eyes met his and her brows rose above them, as though preparing to scold him. “You would make a miserable servant. You were late with my towels and now my skin has begun to prune.” She critiqued his abilities and held up her hand for emphasis of the water that had been drawn out of her body due to the heat of the water. “Unless you have intentions of drawing the water off of me yourself…” she trailed off and her lids lowered slightly, allowing the dark lashes to slightly cover her azure gaze. “I would greatly appreciate if you would remove yourself so that I can dress.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 3:54 pm
by Dollface
Her words certainly betrayed how she truly felt—as he took note of the narrowed gaze as Phedre realized that it wasn’t Sarah entering the room—and Destan began to think this might not have been the best plan of action to take with his wife. Part of him even thought, as she requested to have her towels sent up, that perhaps she might have been trying to get him to bring them up for her and join her for the evening in spite of the fact he told her more than once that nothing could cause him to change his mind.
But she seemed genuinely irritated with him, despite saying that she did not mind his presence, that the bath had eased her after her day. Any amusement from his face dropped, his expression replaced yet again with a placid one—though a hint of defeat had touched his eyes, he tried not to make it so noticeable. “A couple of minutes in the water wouldn’t have made a difference,” he grumbled, standing from the spot where he sat himself along the edge of her porcelain tub, “I apologize. From now on, I’ll continue to leave it up to Sarah to bring you your things.”
Phedre requested his exit, and his demeanor was entirely different from when he had first entered with her towels. “Of course,” he responded simply, already beginning to make his way towards the door, “and I’ll have my own dinner served in my chambers. I’ll be sure to say goodbye in the morning, or at the very least, leave a note.” Though he spoke smoothly, evenly, it was not the same as earlier. He walked away, slightly surprised (and possibly feeling a little wounded) that she hadn’t reacted in the way that he’d expected or wanted.
So Destan left her alone, their dinners served separately. He had to wonder how this looked to their staff, he was sure the situation was just as confusing to them as it was to him. When their arrangement was first presented to him, he was sure that they would find a way to ignore one another, to go about their business and travel together when necessary, make appearances, and eventually produce an heir for their families. This was so far from anything he’d expected, all of the emotions that left him baffled. It wasn’t that he particularly felt anything… loving towards her. Yes, he was kind, but he didn’t necessarily have a hateful nature, not like his elder brother Brunien did towards the fire benders.
But there was something he found himself fighting with internally.
That evening, he prepped his things for his trip himself, wanting the time for himself if he was going to spend the night alone. He finished bathing, moving to his wardrobe with a towel wrapped around himself to retrieve his night clothes. After he’d left Phedre, he entertained the thought that she might appear at his door, but as the night wore on and it got later, it didn’t seem promising. So he decided just to dress himself, and let the candle begin to burn out beside his bed while he slipped under the covers to wrestle with a night’s sleep before his trip.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 5:56 pm
by Simply
Phedre was startled when his face fell at her words. Her head cocked to one side slightly, like a confused puppy. Before she could even think of something to say to him, he had disappeared from the room in a hurry. The tone of his voice had been even and she could not really fathom what had just transpired. Albeit she had not been welcoming when he brought the towels to her, she hadn’t been terribly rude. He had startled her after all, walking in when she had no clothing on and nothing to shield herself from his eyes. Sighing, she grabbed the towel and proceeded to dry herself off.
Approximately half an hour later, Sarah brought up her food and placed it beside her bed. It was a warm roasted quail, glazed with red wine. The aroma filled the room and she inhaled deeply, her stomach giving a rumble of protest at how long she was taking to eat the food. Sautéed greens rested beside and a piece of buttered toast accompanied the main protein. Phedre pulled up a chair and began to eat, chewing thoughtfully on her food even though her body protested at how ravenous she really was from the day’s exertions. Sighing, her hunger began to cease over time as she ate and began to feel somewhat guilty over how she had behaved with Destan.
It was his fault that she was so on edge though, what with his proclamations and forbidding her to accompany him into the city. Her eyes grew darker in shade as she thought over the dilemma for nearly two hours before making her decision. Phedre dressed in a soft purple chemise, covering it with a delicate flower robe with small white petals across the sash. Inhaling slowly through her nose, the lady of the house rang for Sarah to take her dirty dishes downstairs. Instructing Sarah, she ordered that all the staff depart to their respective places for the evening. The lord and lady of the manor would not require any further assistance until her husband departed in the morning for London. Thinking carefully for a moment, she smirked and halted Sarah from leaving before wrapping something in her hands and handing it to the maid. “Make sure this is wrapped in paper and placed among Lord Cerul’s things in the morning, as discretely as possible, if you can manage.” The lady bobbed her head and exited, leaving Phedre to peer down the hall after her.
Some time passed and Phedre plaited her hair down her back. Her candle by her bedside grew low and began to flicker; yet still she could not rest. With a sigh of frustration, she left her bedchamber and sauntered down the hall, without another glance at which staff may still be able. The former Whitman expected her orders to be obeyed and assumed that they had been when she instructed Sarah. Straightening her back, she rapped lightly on Destan’s door before opening it and slipping inside without parting the door from its frame entirely. With a gentle smile, she leaned against the door she had just entered through.
“I did not think a note would be a proper method of communication for your imminent departure, husband – after all, we have both learned that methods other than direct contact have ended poorly for us in the previous weeks.” Blue eyes sparkled delightedly as she examined him in his bed. “I thought I might take it upon myself to initiate some of that…” the smirk played her soft, full lips, “direct contact.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 6:41 pm
by Dollface
Finally, Destan was beginning to fall asleep. His eyes grew heavy and the light beside him still flickered, but was dim and not a bother to him at that point. Now, he thought little of what happened with Phedre earlier, but had already decided that he would stay through breakfast before making his departure for London the next day. Anything other than that would only cause another fight between them, and even if it was bound to happen eventually anyway over some other likely trivial matter, it was best that they didn’t fight again about who left without saying a word to the other.
On the edge of sleep and awake, he heard the knock on the door and stirred suddenly, turning over towards the door to see someone slipping in. The light from her own candle lit up her face, shock filled his own, and he lifted a brow initially instead of returning the smile that she gave him from the door. “What…” He began, and she started to answer before he was even able to pose the question of what she thought she was doing suddenly coming into his chambers.
As he spoke, Destan drew back the covers from himself, dropping his feet to the floor and standing to cross the room. “So you just decided to take it upon yourself to come and ambush me while I’m trying to sleep? This isn’t an attempt to change my mind?” He stood before her, crossing his arms as he examined her in the thin robe that covered her frame. “If it is, you could certainly try. I’m not going to stop you if you’ve gone to such measures to sneak into my room like this.”
He definitely thought about how interesting it was that they were married and seemed to be sneaking around their staff like they were lovers who weren’t meant to be together.
“I must say, I wasn’t really planning to leave you only with a note in the morning. I don’t need to leave straight away, so I would have seen you at breakfast…” His voice trailed, and Destan’s hand moved forward, repeating something he had done the night before, to reach for the sash at her robe. This time, he didn’t undo it, merely toyed with it in his hand, watching as he did so as if he was thinking just what he should do with it. She was being rather forward in initiating this conversation, but he was still unsure. He still felt as though he had read her completely wrong earlier, which had left him feeling odd the rest of the night. Strangely, with her in front of him, it was almost easy to forget about it—yet, he remained a distance away from her, and he was set in the fact that he wouldn’t make any sweeping advances towards her.
He did step towards her though, lifting a hand to rest at the back of her neck. “What sort of direct contact did you have in mind exactly?” He brushed his thumb gently over her skin, feeling the light hum of her pulse beneath, a smirk beginning to tug the corner of his mouth upward.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 8:12 pm
by Simply
She observed him as he drew himself out of his bed, coming towards her like a lion casually stalking its prey. Almost warily, she pressed herself against the wall, side-stepping so that the doorknob would not be pressing into her back. The sash tugged at her back slightly when he began to play with it. Bright eyes turned down to watch his fingers take it and swish it slightly back and forth. She reached up, seemingly going to touch his face but instead brushed back a few hairs that were tickling her face.
Her eyes closed when he touched her neck and she leaned into the touch, letting him see the pleasure that the movement gave her. Parting her eyelids, her gaze fell on his light smirk and it only made her grin larger. “I was not quite sure yet. “ The hand that had moved away her hair went and tangled through his, running twice through the thick strands that fell slightly against his forehead. Dampness lingered lightly in them, making it easier to run her fingers through them. Phedre’s other hand grasped at the soft cotton of his nightshirt and pulled him closer.
“I would have a couple of suggestions in mind, though the last time I acted on some of them I met some unfortunate resistance.” She breathed the words against his neck as she slowly trailed her mouth upwards, tasting his cool skin. To emphasize her words, she released the hand that held his shirt and began to play with the hem of the sleep shorts he was wearing. The movement was identical to the one that she had implemented on him earlier, before he promptly removed her hands and forced her away.
Her lips continued upward and pressed against his ear. “How might you respond if I was to,” her fingers slipped under his shirt, swirling her fingers against the cold skin, “do something like that or perhaps if I was to…” The other hand tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his head down as she whispered all of those words in his ear. “After the rejection I experienced earlier, it would be different to say, press my lips against yours,” her movements followed her words “without knowing that it wouldn’t happen again.” She smirked and leaned her head back against the wall then, withdrawing her hands and rested then by her sides.
Take that, Lord Cerul.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 9:27 pm
by Dollface
Everything she was doing, every movement she made had him on edge almost immediately. It had always been easy for Destan to hold his composure, he had practiced it for so long. Perhaps it was the fact that they were so opposite in their elements that left him feeling like this. Her unnatural warmth mingled with the equally unnatural coolness of his own body, and the way her hands tugged through his hair was almost more comforting than anything—he wanted to pick her up then and take her to bed with him, but he wasn’t sure such a forward movement from him would have been accepted from his darling wife.
With her lips trailing over his skin, he sighed contentedly, his hands moving idly to her hips to hold her close against him. It was so, truly awful how she was toying with him, he was a wound ball of nerves in a snap of a finger. “I’m certain you won’t be receiving any sort of resistance from me right now, Phedre,” he breathed her name, just as her lips came into contact with his ear. He vaguely remembered calling her a puddle at his feet the day before in reference to what experience she had, but now he couldn’t help but feel as though he was playing right into her hand—Destan Cerul was wrapped around her little finger.
Already, he was working at undoing the sash at her waist, but made no move to slip the robe from her body, considering Phedre had decided to slip out of his grasp. His blue eyes wandered over her carefully, they narrowed slightly and he took a step towards her. A hand lifted slowly, resting it on the wall close to her head, his other hand lifting to cup her face gently, tilting it upwards so that he could brush his lips against hers lightly. “Would an apology suffice, for earlier?” He questioned, lingering close to her, “I’m sorry,” he kissed her again in the pauses between the words.”
“If you stay here tonight, I can assure that you won’t be facing any sort of rejection.” He was beyond sincere at that point, but he had no clue how to tell her further that he wasn’t going to make her stop what she was starting. The next time he pressed his lips to hers, his movements were slow, almost calculated, just as the way his hand moved from her face and downward slowly, down the front of her body until he reached the hem of her short chemise. His fingers dipped under the fabric slowly, her skin just as hot as if he were holding his hand up to a flame.
When he pulled away slowly, Destan dropped his forehead against hers, “So perhaps you could show me what you have in mind. After all, I will be gone for a while… What a pity it would be if we didn’t spend some time together beforehand.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 9:50 pm
by Simply
“Yes.” She breathed in response to the offer of an apology. Phedre enjoyed hearing him ask for her forgiveness, to make atonements for his actions. A second later, he was kissing her in brief intervals and she smiled into the last one that he gave. The next thing she knew, he was deepening his kiss, drawing her mouth up towards his. His hands, as hers rested by her side, ran down and lifted the purple of her nightgown upwards. The cold fingertips send chills racing upwards and spreading across her legs just as a deep heat filled the pit of her stomach.
She whimpered when he took his mouth away and scolded herself for it. Phedre was supposed to be the one in charge of all of this, right at this moment. Inhaling slowly, she felt the weight of his head against hers. Her eyes crossed slightly as she looked up at him. The way that he made her feel right at this moment was completely magnificent. If there was a way to bottle the emotions that she was feeling and be able to utilize them at her leisure, well, they may not be in such a predicament as they were right now. Destan had become a drug to her, something that she had to get her angry fix of every so often, much like opium was to addicts in London.
The mistress of the house grabbed his arm and drew it downwards, letting it come to rest by his side. One hand forcefully pushed him backwards from her so that their only connection was through her fingertips. She stared at him for a long moment as though she might change her mind, raking over his body. With precision, Phedre grabbed his hand and lead him towards the bed. They arrived just next to it and she pushed him gently into a seated position. Bright eyes scanned his face, as though she was looking for something in particular that she had not found yet. Licking her lips, she raised the lower part of her chemise further up her thighs, just slightly. The white flesh that was revealed was unblemished.
Her right leg rose and she placed it on the mattress, bent and pressing against the left side of his leg. She began to lean towards him, her left hand coming to tangle into his hair. Her mouth hovered over his and she could feel his breath rush across her face. “What is it that you want? Can you tell me?” She breathed, dipping her head to press a kiss beneath his ear, down his neck, before she raised her head back and released her hold on his hair. Her hand rested gently on the curve of his neck, where it met his shoulder.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2015 10:18 pm
by Dollface
Once again she shocked him with her reaction, with the way she grabbed his hand and pushed him away, their contact immediately broken in a breath. It seemed for a moment all they could do was stand there and stare at one another, though he wanted nothing more than to close the distance and take her into his arms yet again before removing the robe from her body and to see what she might possibly have to show him exactly what was on her mind.
The air surrounding them was nearly buzzing, tense, even as she took his hand into hers again and drew him towards the bed. He said not a word to her, watching her every movement carefully, tempted to ouch her in some way, shape, or form just to feel her. His dark blue eyes drifted down to catch the way she lifted her chemise slightly and he ached to reach for her, to caress the smooth skin with his lips. Slowly, as if to test that he was allowed, his hand dropped to rest on her thigh that came onto the bed beside him, his other hand delicately at her waist.
“Can I tell you?” Both amusement and pleasure with her questions laced his words, considering it was the exact thing he had said to her last night, before they had made their way up to the very spot that they were in now. But then, Phedre had been on the bed, and he’d been the one making her tell him just what she wanted from the Cerul. “Perhaps…” the reply rumbled out of him almost, as he was entirely too distracted by her lips trailing across his skin, leaving warmth in the wake of the tender touch.
Not offering her a verbal response yet, Destan’s hands lifted from her body and to the opening of her robe, pushing it from her shoulders again just as he had done previously. His fingers skittered down her sides, one hand gripping her opposite leg so that he could maneuver it onto the bed beside him, and then his hands slowly shifted to meet at the small of her back to keep her in place. His eyes tipped upward as she now had that advantage over him, a small smile appearing upon his features as he then kissed along her shoulder, slowly up her neck until he reached her ear. “I want you, Phedre, is that good enough an answer?” Another kiss was pressed against her jaw, and he let out a long exhale against her skin, “Please.”
It wasn’t like him to do any ‘begging’ of sorts, but he wanted her, he craved her, and he didn’t think he could stand it if she slipped away from him as easily as he’d let her go earlier.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Aug 10, 2015 8:59 pm
by Simply
The amusement with which he mocked her question made her smile and confidence well in her chest like the rising tide. The movements he caused made her laugh as she rested on his lap, held in place by his firm grasp. Bright blue eyes stared down into his, intrigued by what words would follow the rumble that she felt in his chest, where her hands resided now. She ran them upwards and downwards slowly, stealing the cold that seeped from his skin. The contrast between their temperatures made her fingers tingle.
Phedre had entered into this room with a plan, formulated while she had strolled down the hall. She would steal the moment from him. She would be in control of this and she would leave him as the one that was left wanting more. Now, though, with his breath rushing across her flesh and leaving goosebumps where it whispered – she grew uncertain of her plan. Now, now she wanted to taste his lips for longer than a few moments. She had desires and wanted him to be the one that fulfilled all of them.
Biting her lip, Phedre’s personal thoughts consumed her and she tangled her fingers into his hair. “It is.” The words left her in a rush as she pressed her mouth to his, more forcefully than she had intended. The weight of her need compelled them backwards and she released his hair so that she could catch her from falling completely and knocking his head with hers. Slender hands placed themselves on either side of his blonde hair. She held herself up. The heat in the air was more than apparent. Their eyes locked and momentarily, she leaned closer again but instead a playful grin appeared on her mouth and she laughed, extricating herself from their current situation.
The woman reclined on the bed beside him, one leg dangling casually above the ground. “I am sorry, Destan.” This time it was not a sorrow-filled apology. Instead, there was merriment in her voice and she exhaled slowly, in a clear attempt not to laugh at them. “I…I wanted to leave you like you leave me, so frequently, to get back at you. “ Shaking her head, strands of hair tangled in front of her nose. A well-placed puff of air removed them from her sightline. “Perhaps when you return from your little London adventure, we can resume where we left off, without all of them…games.”
While Phedre had soaked in her bath, she had clearly had time to contemplate all of the things that they had been doing wrong. He was her husband. She clearly desired him. She didn’t have to love him and doubted she ever would but he was a good man. It could have been worse. She could have ended up with his brother. “Don’t be mad…” She trailed her fingers up and down his chest, grinning like a Cheshire cat all the while.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Thu Aug 13, 2015 9:20 pm
by Dollface
Somewhere in the haze that clouded his mind, Destan was wondering what had changed her mind—not just from the previous night to this moment, but from earlier as well during her bath. The back and forth left his head spinning, just as her warm hands running over his cool skin did. Her touch was practically electric, pulling him right back into the moment. His eyes lowered to her lip as she bit it, his gaze not wavering even when she answered him, and as if she read his mind she was kissing him once again.
As she nearly knocked him over, he caught her waist in his hands as they fell back against the covers before he pressed her against him. Destan lifted a hand to cup her face, the other shifting to her shoulder to toy with the strap of her chemise and then…
Phedre was laughing.
The air tangibly changed, and he thought for a second that maybe he was in some strange dream, that this wasn’t real and he’d jolt himself awake in a moment and be alone in his dark chambers yet again. Her warmth fell next to him now, and he looked at her, confusion apparent as his brow furrowed—he almost wanted to pinch her to see if she was real or merely a figment of his subconscious. She was there, she was laughing—highly amused—and apologizing to him. As Phedre explained what she was doing, what she’d entered his room for in the first place, the confusion shifted to complete and utter annoyance and Destan stood up from the bed like she had the plague.
“Get back at me?!” He questioned, his tone almost incredulous, as though he’d never done anything of the sort with her before. At least, not so purposefully—they never had gotten this far only for him to stop her to feed his own amusement. “Is this because I won’t take you with me?” He questioned, hands fashioned on his hips as he looked at her, but he knew the answer. Like she said, it was just another part of their game, but he also knew that there had to be more to it. Destan knew many men who would have given in then, possibly, but he stood there, letting anything he felt simply fall from his features. Instead of lashing out at her, he dropped his attention to her robe that he’d tossed to the floor, handed it to her, before walking quietly to the door.
Of course, he was frustrated, in more ways than one truly. His ego was a bit bruised and he certainly felt as though he’d been played like a fiddle. “No one is mad, Phedre,” he responded coolly, simply. The way he spoke to her had changed in an instant, but how could he mask his irritation? When his hand reached towards the door to open it, he finally lifted his attention back to his wife. “You can return to your own quarters now, darling,” he started with a short sigh, “I’ve a long day ahead of me tomorrow so I should rest.” He squared his jaw, lifting a hand to shift through his hair. “I will see you at breakfast in the morning before I depart, as promised.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Thu Aug 13, 2015 9:44 pm
by Simply
Phedre sighed when he got to his feet. Well, he was not going to take this as well as she hoped. She could have continued to kiss him, as planned, to draw him up against her and breathe soft words of longing in his ear. Those would be followed by whimpers and moans at just the simple touch of his hand, the exhalation of his breath against her neck. While she may lack that courage to follow through, she could be quite remarkable at seduction. Instead, she had been honest with him and did not want to leave him as he often left her – losing the ridiculous game that they played with each other, both unwilling to admit things that some part of their mind knew.
She took the silk robe in her hands and shrugged it onto her shoulders. Delicate, long fingers began to tie the sash at her waist, making all of these motions painstakingly slow. Bright blue eyes looked up at the click of the door opening and she cocked her head to one side and placed her hands on her hips. “No one is mad?” She questioned and her mocking laugh escaped her lips again. She shook her head, soft waves of hair brushing back and forth against her shoulders and the top of her chest. An ache formed in her chest, crushing against her heart. The sensation was terribly painful for the briefest of moments. Sighing, Phedre dropped her eyes as she moved over to him.
“You’re bitter, at the very least. Your frustration is evident,” she reached up and touched his face, briefly, “your face doesn’t hide anything from me anymore, husband.” She had learned to read him, during their fights. She could pick up the anger that would twinge at the corner of his eyes moments before he yelled at her. The curve of his lip heralded the taunting words he was about to unleash. His hand would tremor slightly before he touched her if she was being civil, yet it was firm when she was in a rage.
“I was honest with you tonight. Remember that, when you’re lying in your bed alone, without my warmth beside you even if in a more platonic capacity then you desire.” She shook her head at him, as though he was a child that tore up all the paper to prevent a sibling from using it. Destroying it all to have nothing, rather than swallowing pride and savoring the bit that she could give. “If I am not awake, do not worry about breaking your fast with me. My day was rather exhausting, as well, and I fear I may sleep in past your desired time of departure.”
The blonde examined his face quickly, eyes narrowing as if searching for a better answer than the one he had just given her. “Are you certain?” She whispered. If he said yes, she won by simple superiority. She had been honest and he had rejected it. She would sleep comfortably in her own bed knowing the action she chose had been the right one. If he said no and drew her to his side, even to sleep, she would win. She would have demonstrated the error of his ways. It was win-win for her, but she wondered if he knew that…
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Thu Aug 13, 2015 10:35 pm
by Dollface
Destan hoped that Phedre would simply leave to her room, he could close the door behind her and return to his bed like nothing had happened. He should have known better, the way she sauntered towards him, her eyes gazing up at him so precisely that he nearly looked away from her. This woman that he had hardly known just a few months ago, and despite their lack of proper affection for one another, she knew him well. Perhaps that was simply due to their arrangement, but it wasn’t as though they were entirely close quarters with one another all the time.
But she could read him, just as well as he could read her, but it struck a chord in him that she had to point it out now, after she decided to ‘get back at him’ as she so plainly put it.
He regarded her briefly at the mention of her honesty, before he glanced away from her, certainly not forgetting what she had mentioned about picking up where they left off when he returned, without playing any games. Something stirred within him then—was it that longing picking back up again, as though nothing had transpired between them moments ago? Sure, he was still frustrated, but it also would have been just as easy to close the door and have her stay with him for the night again.
Perhaps he was acting somewhat petty. Even Destan realized this. He was too prideful still to act in any other way, and he may as well have turned his nose up her and stomped off in the opposite direction until she got the hint and took her leave. Instead, Destan sighed, returning his blue eyes to hers, touching his hand to her cheek then, brushing his thumb slightly against her skin, and then took her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“If you do not wish to join me in the morning, then I will see you when I return,” he replied, his words soft, still somewhat stilted. His gaze dropped briefly to her lips, a knot in his stomach tightened and he fought the urge to draw her against him despite what she’d done before. Destan knew what she insinuated by asking if he was certain, addressing his request that she leave him, and while he was tempted…
Destan released his touch from her entirely then, taking his lower lip between his teeth momentarily. “I’m certain, love,” Destan whispered, head tilted to the side a bit, not able to hide a bit of a smirk as he used the pet name for her. He watched her for any visible change in her own demeanor, knowing how she felt when he not only called her that, but by her name as well. “You should go now, Phedre. If it pleases you, I’ll send notice that I’ve arrived safely and give you an idea of when I will be returning home.” They both knew better now after the events of the last tumultuous couple of days. “Will that be all? Is there anything else you need before returning to your quarters?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Thu Aug 13, 2015 10:53 pm
by Simply
At his words, she knew he was going to deny her. Her stomach dropped suddenly and she was surprised by the reaction that she had to his rejection now. Oh, she felt confident in her decision and she knew that this was a win for her, but still, she had almost wanted him to ask her to stay. In her mind, he reached for her hand and drew her back to the bed with him. He would draw her close and brush his hands against her hair, murmuring something incoherent before they both drifted off to slept.
Unfortunately, reality was not like her hopes. She nodded her head almost imperceptibly. “If that is what you wish, husband.” Bright blue eyes glanced up at him after she spoke and she searched for some sign that he wasn’t ready to make this decision. She wanted some part of him to want the opposite and she saw it, just barely. His eyes flickered down to her mouth, which promptly curled into a gentle smile for his amusement. “As my lord, you requests shall be obediently obeyed.” Of course, that was entirely mocking him. They both knew that she was not the submissive type, but it was meant to sting a little. She knew he didn’t really want that.
Patting his chest, she felt the smooth skin beneath and lingered for a few moments too long. “There’s nothing else that you’d be willing to assist me with, I think. I shall make every effort to see you at breakfast, my lord.” She threw the last in there again, tapping her fingers against his chest once more before slipping out the door, letting him stare at the soft swish of her rob as she departed. Yet she paused, just before he closed the door behind her. “You don’t have to worry about sending word. I’ll be on the edge of my seat with anticipation. Might make the reunion that much more…thrilling.” Her characteristic smirk pressed itself to her mouth and she turned away once more.
Entering her room, she leaned against the door and exhaled slowly. Her heart was pounding in her ears and rattling against her chest. Phedre’s eyes closed and she struggled to decrease her rate of respiration, attempting to calm her body as well as her mind. Damn, this was certainly something that she hadn’t expected out of their relationship. She slid down to her bottom, drawing her knees up so she could rest her chin atop them. The feelings she had for him were…not what they had been before. Something that lingered on the edge of appreciation filled her. Destan was clever and could be kind, when she didn’t provoke him purposefully. The touch of his hand was gentle, when it needed to be, and firm when she desired it otherwise – he always seemed to know which she preferred at what moment.
“Bloody hell.” She breathed softly, shaking her head as she rose and climbed into her bed, exhausted from the revelations.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Thu Aug 13, 2015 11:36 pm
by Dollface
As Phedre spoke of their reunion and left the room to return down the hall to her own, Destan closed the door quickly but quietly, leaning against it with a heavy sigh. His eyes shut as he pressed his palms against the cool wood, only causing it to grow colder as he stood there against it. The young Cerul remained like that for a while, evening his breaths as he thought over their last few encounters. So much had changed since the day that they had met, it was so far beyond his expectations—far beyond what he could have wanted for the two of them. Civility, he expected over time, but the way she now made him feel was nothing he could have foreseen.
Finally, he stepped into his dark room again, crossing the floor and slipping into his bed. Her warmth still lingered against the covers, her scent as well, and he lie awake for some time partially regretting letting her go. When he eventually fell asleep, it was mildly restless, and anytime he was awake he stared at the ceiling between his bed posts, trying to figure out when the last time was that he’d had a decent night’s sleep—he wondered if it was before his fire bending wife had entered his life.
He was early to rise, once again giving up on any proper amount of sleep. The morning routine was nothing different than the day before when he had slipped away before Phedre rose: he dressed himself, finished gathering his things although most of them had been readied the night before, and ate a short breakfast alone before having his carriage prepped to leave. It was not to spite Phedre, surprisingly; he truly didn’t expect her to be up at their normal hour to share their first meal, and there was no use in waiting around for her. In fact, she had specifically told him not to, and while he also was not the type to heed in such a way, he figured this time he would.
Not only that, but the sooner he left, the sooner that he could return. Even he was anticipating the day he arrived at their home again—the day that he returned to her.
He arrived at their London home, mildly relieved that he did have this time to himself. He set to unpacking a bag first, and while setting some clothes into a wardrobe, he found something that certainly didn’t belong to him. The young man pulled out something wrapped as though it was a little gift, even if wasn’t done so carefully. Immediately his thoughts ran to his wife, wondering what she might have left him, and he certainly was not expecting the silky black chemise that fell from the paper and into his hands. A low chuckle left him and he shook his head, letting it fall to the bed and all he could do was imagine her wearing it, blonde waves falling around her face, down her back, as she grinned at him devilishly.
Even from miles away, she managed to toy with him.
Tucking it carefully back into his bag, Destan knew that he had to take care of what he’d arrived in the city for, rather than pack his things and return home promptly like he thought about doing briefly. When Phedre had first requested a ring, for reasons she had been entirely sarcastic about, Destan had decided that he wasn’t going to be hasty about it because at that point, he truly hadn’t cared. He knew that it was a necessity due to the fact that it was a traditional matter, but in the time that they had become… closer, he’d decided that he would speed up the process and have something ready as Christmas was soon approaching. It was his first matter of business on the day that he arrived, finding the perfect jeweler to craft a beautiful ring that would not only symbolize their union, but also who she was inherently. Although she was bound to him permanently, a water bender, there was also no denying who she truly was either.
Taking advantage of being in the city, he handled some familial matters as well, and visited with his mother and father, his younger brother as well. Brunien was apparently nowhere to be found for the days that Destan had been in the city, which wasn’t the most disheartening of news.
And Destan was completely none the wiser as to what occurred at his estate while he was absent…
On his fourth day in the city, the Cerul was notified that Phedre’s ring was ready, and once he picked it up he made the decision to leave first thing the next morning to return to his wife. The ring was that of a gold band, a sapphire set in the middle, surrounding by rubies which were further surrounded by diamonds, and was cushioned into a small, deep burgundy box. Destan kept it tucked into the pocket of his jacket on that morning as the carriage pulled up in front of his home on the day of his arrival, playing around with the idea of giving it to her the moment that he sought her.
Once the carriage halted, Destan was lifting the door to exit it swiftly, not bothering to instruct anyone about his bags or where they were to be placed. Just as Phedre had requested, he had not sent notice, so no one would be expecting him. He came to the door, opened it quietly, and as he stepped into the foyer he was met with the sight of complete disarray. Walls and furniture were scorched, and the entire manor was entirely too quiet—eerily, almost, even if it wasn’t as though their staff or Phedre made a lot of noise in the first place. Immediately his stomach coiled, and he called out a “Hello?” Loudly, before starting up the staircase to find out what had happened in the short time that he’d been away.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2015 12:29 am
by Simply
That morning, the lady of the house rose and dressed herself promptly for breakfast. Quickly though, she was alerted to the fact that her husband had already departed for the week. She slowed her movements as the maid buttoned up her dress. It was a soft green dress and she flattened it against her stomach as she descended the stairs. The next three days were spent managing the house. She made certain that everything would be in order when her husband returned.
Deliberately, she sent some of the servants into the city to retrieve some armchair that she had ordered to replace the ones that she had incinerated. They would be arriving back with them the next day. It would be such a nice touch to his return, to have everything back in order from one of their many disagreements. After all, Phedre might have been overreacting slightly with her explosive anger and destructive fire throwing. Chewing on her lip, she stood in the small sitting room where they had enjoyed cheese and spoke before the roaring fire. Her eyes narrowed at the offensive chair with its scorched hole in the center. As soon as they returned with the replacements, she would have this one taken out.
There was no fire in the fireplace and there was a calm on the house as only the kitchen staff and one lady’s maid remained from those that she had sent into town. At first, Phedre didn’t notice the water that hovered behind her head, suspended in the air. She was too distracted by the sudden thought of Destan finding the gift she had stored in his luggage. A smile crossed her face and she looked down. A blush rushed across her cheeks as though he had just found it and smirked in his cocky way at her. She didn’t sense the sudden change in temperature due to being consumed by her thoughts.
It gave Brunien enough time to twist the water and just as she turned around to assess the potential of rearranging the décor on the counter, the water rushed at her face. Shaking her head in an attempt to turn away, her hands burst into flames, attempting to defend herself against a person that wasn’t there. She tried to scream but the water rushed into her lungs and she couldn’t stop it. She tried to swallow, to ride the water from blocking her airway but it hovered there, choking her. The fire extinguished and she grasped at her throat, clawing at it. Small trickles of blood traveled down and tears began to trail down her face.
She was going to die like this. She was going to die and she would never see her family again. She would never see her brother. She would not see Destan. She would never have him hand her the black nightgown, laughing at her. She would never feel his lips crush hers again. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and slowly her body temperature began to rise. Flames began to consume her, flickering up and around every limb of her body. It grew hotter and hotter and the water in her lungs and her throat began to evaporate until there was just a release of the pressure against her. Fire shot outwards, scorching all in its path.
She fell to her hands and knees and water poured out of her mouth, the amount that hadn’t been evaporating. As she sputtered and coughed and cried, Phedre was unaware that a man was cursing softly outside the window. He stood in their garden before turning his back and fleeing. A task for another day, he had decided.
Somehow, someone helped Phedre to her chambers, upstairs and changed what little clothing hadn’t burned away. The servants did not ask about the destruction or her appearance but concern filled their eyes. She knew that someone would send word to her husband. They knew that something wasn’t right. He would reply then, and she’d expect his return.
It took two more days before she could force herself out of bed. She dressed herself in a soft cotton robe and left her room, she thought about venturing downstairs. The idea overwhelmed her and instead she moved into one of the large rooms on the second floor that was more of a study than a bedchamber. She stood at the large windows and peered outwards, staring down into the garden. Her mind wandered as she shivered, feeling very unlike herself. Near death experiences could not that. Attempted murder was even more unnerving. Once bright blue eyes had gone hazy, and lost their spark as she stared out on the grounds of their ample estate.
She didn’t hear her husband return and had not received a reply, so company was unexpected. The noise he made was lost to her ears as she was consumed by her own thoughts. As he found her in that room, she didn’t noticed his approach until he was right behind her. She sensed the change in temperature that his coolness brought and she whirled around. Fear gripped her heart.Her hands blazed and she shoved him backwards with one of them. The flames caught the lapel of his jacket and traveled upward and then out across his arm. It was a moment more before she realized it was Destan. “Oh my God.” She breathed, shaking and uncertain of what to do.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2015 3:20 pm
by Dollface
Destan felt oddly unsafe in his own home, and he stopped himself from calling out to Phedre to jokingly ask if she had decided to do some rather unconventional redecorating by setting pieces of the estate on fire. He made his way to the second floor, he wandered down the hall to his left, peeking into some the guest bedrooms, accidentally starting some of the staff that seemed to just be doing busy work here or there. He came across Sarah, one of Phedre’s maids, hoping she could point him in the direction of his wife. But the young woman had shaken her head almost solemnly, and before she could give the master of the house a proper answer, Destan was off down the hall again.
He came across one of his studies that he had not put to use yet, it was still being put together as he thought about offering it to Phedre if she needed it, when he saw his wife sitting near the window that looked out over their garden and the rolling hills that surrounded their home. Destan only saw her profile, and from the side he could see the corner of her mouth turned down, but an otherwise solemn expression worn on her face. He crossed the room towards her quietly, but quickly, and as the young man reached out to touch his hand to her elbow and bring her attention to him, his wife turned around and set fire whirling at him.
“Fuck!” He yelped as his arm caught on fire, immediately patting himself down to quell the flames. His eyes were wild, but not angry as they usually might have been, as he looked to his wife, and there was no mistaking the sheer horror that took over her when their blue eyes met. “ ‘Oh my god’ is quite the understatement.” Destan furrowed his brows as he looked at her, and then to the arm of his jacket that was entirely scorched through, and the sleeve of his shirt beneath was ruined as well. Removing his jacket slowly from his shoulders, he winced slightly, trying to allow himself to cool to relieve the heat he still felt across his skin from the fire she sent at him.
Destan watched her carefully, noting the fear that was nearly racking her to her bones. Never in his life had he seen Phedre like this—she’d shaken with anger at their wedding when his brother had played the awful trick on her brother. She’d shaken beneath his touch in the dark when they grew close, when his cool lips trailed over her fiery flesh. But this was different, he could see it in her glance, and it seemed to him her eyes were almost dull, not as bright as they were when she regarded him. There was none of that anticipation of his return that she had mentioned the night in his room before he’d left for London.
Slowly, he stepped towards her, lifting his hands to her face so he could look at her properly, and brushed his thumbs against her cheek bones. “I feel as though I should not have to ask my wife why she nearly tried to attack me upon my return home. Well, not nearly, you certainly hit your mark. From what I remember, I’ve done everything right, other than announcing my early arrival.” He tried to joke lightly, a smile appearing at his lips, but then he also wasn’t sure that she was in the mood for anything in the sort.
“What happened while I was away, Phedre? Was someone here? The walls downstairs…” His voice trailed, and he dropped one hand from her face, taking her left hand into his right, his thumb then sweeping over the finger he would soon enough be likely placing the ring he’d bought for her.
Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2015 6:41 pm
by Simply
Phedre reached out with her hand, as though she could stop the spread of the flames on his clothing. He quickly squashed the fire’s progression and she shrunk back timidly, afraid that he might be terribly angry at what she had just done. This woman was not the same as she had been when he left her just a few days ago. Someone had attempted to end her life and she didn’t even have the knowledge of who it was. Of course, she has surmised that he was a Cerul loyalist – some elementalist that protested the union of water and fire. She had lain in her bed for nearly two days contemplating whom it might be, why they might try to kill her for a deed that had already been done. She had married him. They were wed. There was nothing that could be changed. Perhaps, though, she considered briefly that they wanted to end her life because of the possibility of heirs – ha!
He approached her and she stiffened, but did not withdraw. Her eyes turned towards but he forced, gently, her face towards his, staring down into her eyes. Phedre swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to…” to set you aflame? To attempt to harm you before you could do so to me? She turned her eyes downwards and closed them slowly as he brushed his thumbs against the soft skin of her cheek where soft brown freckles danced. “I didn’t think that you…Did you not receive my letter?” The words came slowly but he began to question her and she realized that he could not have read about the attack before he had departed London.
The cool touch of his hand on hers was comforting but she could not tell him what happened while she faced him. Phedre was ashamed. She had been trained as an assassin for her people. She had practiced for countless hours to eliminate threats to the Whitman name through the use of her abilities but she had grown lax and someone took advantage. She had not been able to protect herself. Turning away from him, blue eyes stared once more out the window but registered nothing.
“I…I was downstairs in the sitting room. I was trying-trying,” her voice hitched but she forced herself to go on. She would not cry in front of him, she swore silently. “I was trying to repair that damage from our last…altercation and when I turned. I turn around and there was…” A soft sob escaped her, pulled from her inexplicably and she pressed her lips firmly together to prevent the escape of a subsequent noise. “There was so much water. It blinded me and I tried to scream, to shield myself and then I couldn’t breathe. I could see but no one was there.” Another sob and she knew that the battle with her emotions was lost. Tears began to trail down her face as she remained silent for a long moment, trying to stabilize her tremoring voice. “I was drowning in our sitting room. I couldn’t make it stop. I was going to die, I couldn’t breathe.” The words came out disjointed and jumbled as she inhaled deeply to try and catch her breath. Her body shook with the effort and she reached out a hand to steady herself on the windowsill. Still, she did not turn back to him. She couldn’t. How weak she must look. “Then it stopped but I think that I burned the room. I couldn’t control my power and I couldn’t make it stop. I couldn’t protect myself.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2015 7:56 pm
by Dollface
At the mention of her letter, Destan could only shake his head slowly. It was likely to arrive that very day, and would sit at their home in London until one of them returned. Needless to say, he was confused, even somewhat guilty for the fact that he had gone in the first place seeing the state that she was in. She turned away, but he remained where he stood, letting his fingers lock together and dropping his hands in front of him as her voice wandered to his ears with the explanation of what happened to her.
After a moment, he had to look away; just listening to her, he could hear that her emotions were consuming her, that this type of vulnerability with him was almost too much. And then, she admitted someone had attempted to drown her, and anger flared inside of him instantly, the thought of revenge immediately thick in his thoughts. There was no doubt in his mind that this had to have been a premeditated attack. Was it meant for him? Was someone expecting him to be home, to not just try to harm Phedre but end his life as well?
Or did someone know all too well that Destan was far from his wife in London?
Destan was silent for a few moments even when Phedre had finished speaking. His own attention had trailed out the window before them, and he was almost at a loss of what to do. He knew to comfort her, but he was already ready to storm out of their home to find the bastard that had done this to her—of course, the only problem being that he had no clue who had done it. Clearly, they had been a water bender, and they had to have had a problem with either their union, Phedre herself, or perhaps both of those things.
Drawing in a deep breath, he stepped towards her, touching a hand to the small of her back before curling that arm around her waist to draw him to his side. “You’re sure you saw no one?” He questioned her quietly, not because he didn’t believe her but he wanted to be sure that no one had actually entered their home. Not that it made the situation better in any way. “I’m so sorry, Phedre,” he whispered against her ear, lifting his lips to press a kiss to her temple, then to her cheek where her tears still lingered. “It isn’t the room I’m concerned about, it can be repaired, I’m just...” He paused, pressing his lips together, “I’m just glad you were able to fight them off…” His voice trailed as he ran his fingers over her hair, hoping that it might soothe her.
His anger had faded in the meantime, and once more he was lost in his thoughts of how different that this interaction was for them. In the past he might have been cold as opposed to caring, he might have left her to deal with… whatever she was going through. This attack against her seemed so personal, and considering how things had changed so drastically between them, he immediately felt protective over her. Perhaps he would keep that to himself, as he wasn’t sure Phedre would appreciate that exact sentiment.
“Next time you’ll accompany me to the city. I won’t be leaving you so vulnerable again. Clearly, someone has a problem with this situation.” That was also an understatement. “I will figure out who did this, I promise you, and I will take care of them myself,” he told her firmly, looking at her directly and setting a hand on her cheek to tilt her attention towards him. “I won’t allow this to happen ever again, you understand?” He tried to smile, the corner of his mouth twitching upward before he spoke again, “besides, who would I argue with if you weren’t around? Sarah isn’t much of a conversationalist.”
Biting at his lower lip again, he reached for her hand, stepping in the direction of his jacket that he’d draped over a chair. He let her go to reach to the inside pocket which, thankfully, hadn’t been touched in her accidental attack against him. Destan’s expression remained calm as he turned the velvet burgundy box over in his fingers, before extending it towards Phedre. “Not that this will do anything to fix what happened, but,” he stated with small sigh, head tilted to the side slightly, “Happy Christmas, a little early.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2015 9:17 pm
by Simply
“I can protect myself.” She murmured, feebly and didn’t push any confidence into those words as he drew her to him. She relished the contact, wanting to be able to draw herself up in his arms and stay there until the pain, the fear, went away. But that would be something even she was too proud to admit. “But I didn’t see anyone and no one called upon me while you were gone. I do not know if they could see me from the window…maybe the gardens.” Gentle gaze flickered out the window before turning back towards him slowly.
When his mouth pressed against her face, wiping at her tears, she felt a sense of relief wash over her that she had not be expecting. Destan made her feel safe and that surprised her. Now was not the time to linger on it, but she knew that she would have to consider what this might mean for them later. He continued speaking and each word continued to provide her comfort. He wasn’t going to leave her. He was going to stay by her side. Phedre had never been the one to need a man, to need anyone to protect herself but the idea that he would be there in the event that she failed to provide for herself…well, that made a warmth spread across her.
The joke made her choke back a laugh and she moved to bury her head in his chest, but he withdrew slightly and she looked at him with a startled expression. His hand remained with hers and he grabbed for his singed clothing. Blonde eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he withdrew a box that could possibly only have one thing inside of it. Confusion still graced her tear-strained face as he held it out to her as a Christmas gift, despite that the holiday was still a month away. With her free hand, she reached for it and finally realized that she would need her other fingers to pry it open. Licking her lips, she released her hold on his hand and opened it.
Phedre Cerul gasped, the hand she opened it moving to press against her lips. Blue eyes darted upwards to meet his own azure gaze. “Destan.” She just whispered his name as she withdrew her stare. She ran her fingers over the grand sapphire that resided in the center, circled by rubies. Water and fire. The sentiment was disconcerting and she was at a complete loss for words. This was her wedding ring. Instead of a simple band that she had expected and voiced an opinion about, her husband had spent time to craft something that represented their tumultuous union. Her heart began to race.
She held it back out to him. “Will you,” she didn’t realize that her hands were shaking, “will you put it on for me?” The tone of her voice was soft and breathy, like a tender caress. Phedre couldn’t raise her voice any louder than the whisper that it was for fear that it would crack and give away her vulnerability. When he obliged her, she noted how perfectly it fit her slender fingers and how impressive the weight of it was. “I can’t believe that you…this is why I could not join you.” It was a statement. She had figured it out. “It’s beautiful, husband. I can’t. How much did this cost you?” Shaking her head, right hand raised to prevent his answer. She didn’t want to know. “Thank you. I can’t…” She was smiling and suddenly she began to cry again. The tears trailed down her face and all of her emotions swept over her. The ability to form coherent sentences was lost on her and so all she could do was rise on the tips of her toes and kiss him. It was sloppy, messy – due to her tears, but she couldn’t make herself stop.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2015 9:42 pm
by Dollface
It was mildly amusing to see how confused she was initially, but Phedre was a smart girl and it was only a moment before she realized just what he was handing her. He felt as though he should take a bit of a bow, congratulate himself for a job well done, but there was no room for him right now to act in such a way, not after she’d just told him how she’d nearly been killed while he’d been away. No, he was simply concerned about lifting up his wife’s spirits at this time, and it seemed to be working.
Before he thought too long on why he did care so much to do so, Destan grinned, the smile stretching from ear to ear at her reaction, and he took another step towards her with a short shake of his head. “You didn’t think I’d make you put it on yourself, my dear wife? What sort of gentleman do you take me for?” His eyes remained on hers, even as he took the box from her, and only briefly looked down to the ring to remove it before meeting her gaze again while he slipped the ring delicately onto her finger. “I told you,” he replied, the words light as opposed to condescending, “it was going to be a surprise. I suppose I should have waited for the actual holiday, but I don’t do well with surprises.” He certainly hadn’t done well with the surprise of their marriage at first, but now…
Phedre’s demeanor had visibly changed, and although she was crying again, he knew it was for an entirely different reason. Before he could verbally comfort her, she reached for him, her lips on his, and despite the lack of perfection in the kiss, he was more than glad to have her against him and his arms yet again. His hand lifted to her face as he deepened their kiss, his other arm curling around her back again. Destan pulled away just slightly, his lips hovering near hers as an entirely contented sigh fell in the space between them. “Shall I take that as a sign that you approve?” Now, he grinned in a cocky manner as he rested his forehead against hers. “If it needs resizing or anything, we could take a trip to the city together before the weather is too poor to travel.” He pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks then, as if to will her tears to stop.
Speaking of the city, though, he remembered something, and he lifted his head with an eyebrow tilted upward now. “I noticed that you left something of yours in one of my bags when I arrived to London,” he began, his hands falling to rest at her hips now. “I don’t think I would have looked quite as good in it as you do, I have to admit, so I’m not sure what your exact intention was in sending it with me.” That was likely a bold-faced lie, considering their history, but he did want to hear what she might have to say about the matter. Before that, however, he brought her against him once more, mouth falling to hers again.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2015 10:10 pm
by Simply
“Yes.” She breathed, the smile back in her voice, though her hands still shook. Destan was doing a remarkable job of keeping her mind of the terror that occurred two days ago. His skin began to radiate her won heat back to her and she moved against him marginally. “Yes, I approve. It’s perfect.” She murmured, leaning upwards to take another kiss but he stopped her with his words. A knowing smile began to curl against her mouth, the sheen of tears pressing against them, though the flow had stopped. She reached up and wiped at her eyes, removing the remnants of her outpouring of emotion. It seemed his kisses had their intended effect on her.
“Oh?” The word was full of mischief and she looked down from him, only to have him draw her back towards him and kiss her. Her mouth eagerly accepted his. Newly adorned hands gripped at his hair and held him against her. Minutes had to have passed as Phedre’s mouth moved against his. Her tongue ran along his, tasting him, savoring this moment. Finally, her chest near to bursting with the limited hair she had inhaled during their intimate exchange, she bit his lower lip as she withdrew. “I thought you might enjoy something to remember me by, while you were gone. Just in case the nights got lonely without our constant bickering and you wanted to seek company elsewhere,” she stole a quick kiss, letting him know that she was merely teasing him. Phedre had learned rather quickly that he did not take kindly to her insinuating that he would be unfaithful to her. The grin lingered on her lips for a moment as the afternoon light bathed them through the window, approaching the evening.
Sighing, she ran her hands up his chest, the light catching her ring and sending sparkles about the room. They danced on the wall like impish pixies and she smiled at it. “When did this happen?” She asked, leaning back from him, though not breaking their contact entirely. It frightened her, how quickly their dynamic had shifted from pure hatred and loathing to something that mimicked an understanding, a kind of respect. Oh, it certainly was not love or even the inklings of romance but it was something that she could live with for the rest of her life. A comfortable, occasionally intimate relationship.
“I could have sworn when you last left, you rather despised me.” The left side of her mouth rose in a smirk. “You all but tossed me out of your room, if I recall the evening correctly. You were quite certain about the whole affair, in face.” The shaking of her hands had all but stopped as Destan had managed to push back the anxiety that had consumed her for the past two days.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2015 10:55 pm
by Dollface
When she kissed him, everything else was a haze.
All he felt was her hands in his hair, all he could take in was the taste of her, her heat completely taking over the coolness of his own. There was no discomfort, and his fingers gripped tightly into the cotton robe she wore, hugging her as close as she could possibly get against him. And then, she broke the contact, leaving Destan taking more than one deep breath to gather his composure, to gather his wits. A low hum rumbled in the back of his throat at her reply, eyes narrowing on her at the insinuation he might have thought about taking another woman while he was away. “On the contrary,” he grumbled, his brows still furrowed slightly, “it might have been one of the driving forces that brought me home earlier than intended…”
That, and he had offered to pay extra for the ring to have it put at the top of the jeweler’s priority.
His expression shifted as she ran her hands over his chest, and he looked down briefly to watch the movement, entirely soothed by it. Of course, his thoughts went back to what had happened while he was gone, but he tried not to focus on it now that she was distracted from it as well. He was going to have to talk to not just his family, but other water benders as well to see if they knew anything. For now… for now, he lifted his eyes to hers, an eyebrow tilting upward at her question. “I thought of it when you were away initially in London, decided I’d need to take the trip eventually myself to have it done in secrecy by our family’s jeweler.” Destan gave a shrug of his shoulders, as if it was the most normal thing—for his affluent, well known family, it was, and he never gave a second thought.
Taking her hand in his, he tilted it left, then right, examining the ring on her finger. It really did look beautiful, and it suited her so well, and he was about to comment such when she brought up how they had left things before he went to the city. “Excuse me,” he nearly interrupted her, dropping her hand now as if he was truly offended by the accusation. “I was quite certain that you had played a cruel joke on me, and that I had a very long day ahead of me after that evening.” It was then that he broke his contact from her, folding his arms loosely across his chest, though keeping his demeanor lax as to not give her the idea that he was truly upset.
“But we are done with those games now, aren’t we?” He suggested, dropping himself into one of the chairs as he looked up at her, letting his arms fall to those on the chair. “I’m remembering myself now that a certain someone suggested something of the sort, and picking up where we’d left off, isn’t that right?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2015 11:18 pm
by Simply
“It was my every intent to play a cruel trick on you, but I stopped myself.” She placed both hands on her hips. “I was honest with you about my intentions and I don’t think you appreciated that honesty very much.” She leaned back against the windowsill, watching him as he seated himself in the chair across from her. It was one that she hadn’t managed to ruin with her fiery rage. All of those resided downstairs in the small sitting room she would certainly not be entering for a very long time. Brushing back a strand of her golden hair, Phedre eyed him warily. Concern filled her breast as she wondered if they were headed down the same road of disagreements they had been traversing for months now.
“Ah, but that suggestion was all part of the game. If we’re no longer playing such childish games, then surely that no longer applies.” In reality, the idea of picking up where they left off made her nervous. The wound the water left did not just pertain to the scabs on her neck from her own anxious fingers. It had scarred her deeper than that and now, the idea of being so vulnerable again in an entirely different way formed a knot of apprehension inside of her stomach.
She did all she could to keep the shake out of her voice as she spoke but she was unable to maintain eye contact with him and looked downward. Her feet shifted back and forth against the cold wooden floor beneath her feet. A large carpet stretched out before her and under the chair that he was sitting in. It stopped just before the windowsill, leaving the space where she stood bare and cool against her skin.
“Destan,” the name left her lips softly, a kind murmur, “would you take me upstairs to bed?” Her eyes searched his and she hurriedly continued. “In that, I mean, would you allow me to sleep with you tonight? I don’t want to…to sleep alone.” The firm gaze she held with him broke and she looked down. “I just want to sleep. I haven’t been able to since…since it happened.” She swallowed the lump in her throat firmly and looked back up at him. The vulnerability filled the air and she stood, straightening the cotton of her robe against her body, making certain to straighten the waist-tie that had gone awry during their passionate exchange. “But only if it would not be an inconvenience…”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 12:05 am
by Dollface
In spite of the fact that Destan had managed to ease her nerves just slightly with her ring, he could still tell that she was a bit… off. It was expected, he didn’t think that he could have made her feel entirely better with that simple gesture. Something seemed to weigh on her yet again, and he looked at her with his head tilted slightly as she made her way back towards the window sill while he sat in the chair. Once more, the conversation had shifted entirely, and the teasing tone from her words was gone, she was being entirely serious with him now.
She seemed wary to pose the question, her nerves more apparent now, so he smiled gently as an initial response before she even finished speaking. “You aren’t any inconvenience to me, Phedre,” he spoke her name firmly, though not rude, but mostly as a means to get her to stop from continuing her ramble. “I couldn’t expect you to sleep alone. I would say that I wouldn’t allow you to, but I know you don’t take kindly to me setting such bounds for you.” His words were light, and he stood again, crossing the distance between them to reach for her hand. “We’ve had an exhausting few days to say the least, it wouldn’t hurt to turn in a little early.”
He gave her fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze, before Destan led the two of them out of the study and towards his chambers. He gave not even a second thought to the charred jacket he left behind – someone would find it and would dispose of it, but he would have to make a mental note that he needed to have it replaced. Currently, his focus was on his wife, who he ushered into his bedchambers. With the door shut behind them, he only left her to cross the room towards the windows where he’d left the curtains drawn open the morning he departed. “Would you?” He turned and nodded towards the candles that placed about the room, only wanting the dim light offered by those as opposed to the sunlight that still washed over their estate.
With the curtains drawn and the candles lit, Destan began to undress himself. Surprisingly, he didn’t think twice about the fact that Phedre was in the room as he removed his nearly burnt shirt, exchanging both that and his trousers for the clothes that he slept in. “I know I mentioned going to the city only if you needed to,” he spoke up finally as he walked towards the bed again, drawing back the covers and arranging the pillows so that he was only left with the ones he actually slept on, “but if you’d like, we could go back. I could set up someone to repair what needs to be done, and I’m sure you would appreciate getting away from here for some time.” He shrugged, not entirely noticing that he had suggested it a trip for the two of them, as Phedre had once mentioned that she would have liked the London home for herself. But then, Destan also assumed she didn’t want to be traveling alone anytime soon either—even he didn’t like the idea for himself.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 12:29 am
by Simply
With her husband’s acquiescense, Phedre was led up the stairs to his bedroom. She remembered the smell of it. The aroma was a mix of his natural musk and the calming hint of cleaned bedding. Inhaling deeply, she complied with his request. Firmly, she pulled the curtains of heavy blue material closed so that light only peeked around at the very edges. It, too, was quickly fading as day gave way to the dominating nature of the night. Turning, the flickering of candles soothed her as well. She could sense their energy as the flames waved in the air.
Hesitation filled her when her hands reached for the sash of her robe. Yet her eyes took in how calmly he undressed himself in her presence. The knot came undone and she laid the fabric across a chair in the corner on the side of the bed that was to be hers. “I would like that.” She responded, slipping beneath the sheets and comforter that matched the bright blue color that filled his room. A symbol of the Cerul dynasty. It would have been red, had she been born a man and he the heiress. The idea skirted her thoughts but she brushed it aside. He settled in beside her and she rested her head on one of the plush pillows he had religated to her side.
Phedre felt safe. If anyone attacked them, Destan had the capabilities to combat their water abilities and she could manage to herself…well enough, at least. The feathers in the pillow made a cradle for her head and she felt the pull of sleep, at long last. The past two days she had remained away, only closing her eyes for the briefest of moments. When she did so, she would see the splash of water and feel the tightening of her throat as it worked to catch her breath. Gasping and sputtering is how she would awaken, unable to fall back asleep for hours one end. Now, though, with her husband beside her, she felt at ease. Phedre could let go now.
Sleep beckoned her like an untended mistress and she followed its siren call. “There is a little bakery I could show you,” the words were mumbled and her eyes remained closed as she talked, “that has the absolute best pastries. They have a…”The word was too jumbled to be recognized. She rolled onto her side, facing him and was clearly on the edge of being completely asleep. “You might like it. I’d like to share it with you even if you are a Cerul…” The last bit made her drowsy mouth curl slightly at the tease. With her right hand she reached out and just barely brushed his skin before she completely embraced the darkness.
The lady could not be certain how long she slept. It felt like days but when her eyelids fluttered open, no light glowed around the margins of the window. It was likely the dead of night. The candles burned low and barely illuminated the room. In fact, nearly all of them had gone out. The one at Destan’s bedside flickered slightly and as her bleary gaze fell on his slumbering form, she realized what she needed in this moment, to overcome what had happened. The realization hit her firmly. She looked at his slumbering face and the bare chest partially covered by the sheets. As she stared, another candle extinguished. Carefully, she reached up and brushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead. She scooted clothing towards him, until their noses were only two inches apart.
“Destan. Destan.” She whispered his name, beckoning him. “Destan.” She saw his eyelids flutter and she drew back her hand, cradling it against her own chest.
“Will you take me to bed, Destan?” Hopefully, in his heavy-eyed stupor, he would understand.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 12:49 am
by Dollface
Once he was beneath the covers with Phedre, he knew it was all over. He was comfortable, he was warm, and though he was not as tired as she, he also knew that he would be falling asleep almost as swiftly as she would. Turning onto his side as he lay next to her, he could see the sleep in her eyes, in her smile, he could hear it in her words. A lazy smile sprawled across his features at the mention of a bakery, as she forgot just what it was that they had that she would need to show him, but the jab about him being a Cerul drew a laugh at him. “Don’t forget you’re a Cerul now yourself. You can’t entirely pass judgment any longer,” he’d replied, but at that point he wasn’t sure if she’d even heard him. One, because she hadn’t snapped back at him, and two because it seemed once she finished that thought altogether, she’d succumbed to slumber.
Destan wasn’t far behind her, even with the dim flickering of the candles around them. He fell asleep facing her, a hand resting on the blanket where her hip was. The sleep was so deep that he didn’t even dream—or if he did, he would have absolutely no recollection of it at the time that he woke. Instead, he slept soundly, until he turned onto his back and (unbeknownst to him) snored lightly here and there. One hand arm was settled by his side, the other tucked behind the pillow his head rested on. At that point, he’d been entirely unaware of Phedre waking beside him.
Somewhere, in his subconscious, his name was spoken by her soft voice, and his eyes fluttered open just barely to just barely see the outline of her features so close to his own. Brows furrowed and he rubbed a hand over his face. “What is it?” He attempted to rumble out, as well as an ‘iseverythingokayareyouokay?’ but he wasn’t even sure if he’d actually managed the words as he was still partially asleep. Phedre’s voice surrounded him, even as he closed his eyes again, trying to adjust to being awake so suddenly after sleeping so peacefully.
“Bed.” He spoke the word, as if trying to understand here. “Aren’t we in bed already, Phedre?” He yawned, tilting his head at her as he looked to her, his blue eyes sleepy. The words tumbled in his head. Take me to bed. Take me to bed. His hand fell to hers as it rested on his chest, running his thumb lightly over his knuckles.
Will you take me to bed, Destan?
Suddenly, the meaning of her question reached him. Eyes opened a little wider this time as he looked to her, breathing an, “Oh,” finally as a response. “Perhaps being so coy isn’t the best idea in the dead of the night, love,” he whispered, a lazy smile on his lips again as his hand reached to the back of her neck, drawing her close to set his lips on hers. The kiss was slow as he tangled his fingers into her hair, and Destan managed to shift the both of them onto their sides, and he curled his other arm around her waist snugly. “Are you certain?” He murmured against her mouth, the question mirroring her own that she had posed days ago, though he hadn’t done so purposefully. “Or perhaps I’m dreaming. I should pinch you to make sure you aren’t some apparition,” he teased, grinning against her mouth as he kissed her, his hand squeezing her waist lightly.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 1:07 am
by Simply
White teeth revealed themselves as she smiled at his misunderstanding. He was an intelligent man. She waited a moment and then there it was. The widening of his eyes was unmistakable. His hand was on her neck and his mouth pressed against hers, slowly sending a wave of desire washing over her. She readily moved against him, her arm running gingerly up and down his side, stopping each time at the cover line that hid the rest of him beneath the sheets. Eager gaze searched his as she replied. “You said no more games, husband. Now you try to take my coquettish nature away from me, as well? Whatever shall I have left after all of your restrictions and rules?” But there was hardly much of a teasing tone in her voice, even though she grinned at him playfully.
Phedre wanted this. She needed to follow through on all of the comments and taunts that she had throw his way. She needed to consummate her union with the man she had hated and the husband she never thought she would admire. The need was physical namely, but an undercurrent that she could not wholly identify ran through her mind at times. When she had opened her eyes to see him, peacefully sleeping beside her and being there when she had needed him without an expectations…she knew that it was what they both needed. This one night.
The teasing tone flitted back into her voice like a playful bird. “Dreaming?” She said it as though the idea was surprising to her. “Do you dream of me often, husband?” The words left her in a hushed murmur, filling the space between their mouths as she barely brushed the pink flesh of her lips against his. “Please, tell me what you see in these dreams of yours that are so vivid you aren’t sure if you are awake or still slumbering?” Part of her was merely toying with him, but another part was truly curious about his response. Phedre had (unfortunately at the time) dreamt of him in circumstances and situations that would hardly have been appropriate, had they not been wed to one another.
Yet, even are she poked fun at him for his comments, she raked her hands through his hair, pulling his face down to hers and kissed him. The urgency in the motion was followed by her pressing him back against the mattress, so he was once more on his back. His head rested squarely in the middle of the pillow he favorited. Her body rested over his, one pale leg on either side of his much larger frame. Still her mouth did not break its contact with his. Only when she trailed her lips along his jaw, did she give him a moment to take a ragged breath. At the end of the string of kisses, her mouth rested against his ear.
“I’m certain, love.” She whispered, drawing back so that she could look in his eyes when he registered her words.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 1:43 am
by Dollface
“That depends on your definition of often…” His voice trailed as he squarely tried to avoid answering her question with a full answer. If she could see him properly, she would have seen his cheeks flush just slightly at the admittance, that she had certainly visited his dreams more than once in the time. Especially since they’d first kissed and become far more intimate than he’d ever intended. Even now, she was a siren, beckoning him, and her lips were so close and still so far as she pressed him for more answers. “Apparently, I must see you often waking me out of dead sleep just to cause me utter confusion.” Now it was his turn to tease, and he smiled at her again, finally closing the distance between them briefly to kiss her, catching his lower lip gently between his teeth.
He had absolutely no objection as she moved them so that he lay back against the bed, her own body shifting to hover over him. One hand steadied her head still, fingers curling into her blonde tendrils, and he gripped her thigh that rest beside him. The covers no longer covered either of them, having shifted haphazardly towards the end of the bed, but it was no matter—Phedre was more than enough warmth for the both of them, and he felt truly content. Beyond that, really, considering the impending consummation of their marriage.
A soft groan left him when she pulled away, as though he was a child who got something stolen from him, and his eyes remained close as she peppered his cool flesh with her kisses. A hum resounded in his throat again, his fingers at her thigh lightly grazing her flesh in approval of her touch, at the feeling of her lips against his ear. There was no suppressing the shiver that traveled his spine at the word love, and his eyes flickered open to meet hers in the dark. Lifting his head, the tip of his nose brushed hers, before he kissed her lightly and dropped his hands to the nightgown she wore.
Slowly, his hands traveled beneath the fabric, and before he shifted it away from her he reveled simply in the feeling of her skin beneath his hands as they traveled along her sides. At that time, his lips had traveled from her mouth and to her cheek, traveling down her jaw and her neck, nipping lightly at the hollow of her throat. He pulled back then, once again meeting her eye as he shifted her nightgown from her body.
While his hands had once more dropped to her smooth thighs, thumbs drawing lazy circles on her skin, blue eyes roamed over her. He took in every dip and curve of her form illuminated so softly in the dim light of the few candles that still managed to burn after the hours they’d slept. “You’re beautiful, Phedre,” he murmured, lifting his hand to brush away the strands of her hair that fell over her chest. “I’m much, much more certain now that I’m not dreaming at all.” That boyish grin of his appeared on his features again, and he quickly looped an arm around her waist, now turning her so that she was back against the bed.
He still managed to hold her against him, as he dropped a kiss down onto her bare shoulder, then another over her collarbone before leaving a trail along the familiar spot of her neck. Destan took her lips hungrily with his own again, not wanting to break any sort of contact with her any longer—the feeling of her body, the taste of her skin against his lips left his head absolutely spinning as if he was drunk off a fine wine. Despite his complete lack of thought process currently, Destan felt a pull towards her, an absolute need for her, far more than he had any other time they found themselves in this situation. Perhaps it was that he’d been gone and they’d left things open ended, or what had happened to her that brought on this need. He wasn’t sure in that very moment; all he knew was that he craved her with every fiber of his being.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 9:48 am
by Simply
The movement of the last barrier between her skin and his made her want to tremble. It was not known if it was due to anticipation or apprehension. Phedre’s focus was on his hands, feeling their slow trek up the sides of her legs, passing the curve of her hip and brushing the bone as it met her stomach. She could not control the small spasm of her muscles contracting beneath his touch. Sensations overwhelmed her as his mouth teasing every part of her face, nibbling at her neck and drawing forth was could only be described as a squeak of surprise. He withdrew and she felt only the small motion of his fingertips on her legs. Destan stared at her and it took all of her training as a court lady to prevent her from shifting and squirming beneath his gaze.
And his teasing was back, apparent by the boyish smirk on his lips. She smiled back and suddenly she was hanging slightly in the air beneath him. Her hands wrapped around his neck fluidly and seconds later she was occupying a cool place on the sheets. Her head sunk into one of the pillows as he reversed their positions. Before she could register much, his lowered his mouth again to her body and an familiar heat slithered across her stomach, down her legs and up to her chest. More than a littler urgently, she accepted his mouth on hers. Her wrists pressed against his neck and she tangled her fingers to his hair. But that was not enough. Her hands began to snake their way across his body until they reached the hem of the pants he wore to sleep in. Her hand trembled nervously, but at that exactly moment, his hand squeezed her bare hip and she broke their kiss.
Slender back arched and her chest pressed against his. Hesitation vanished as she forced down the remaining garments he worn and her hands found unfamiliar territory. When she would reach no further with the clothing, rapidly her hands moved back up, nailing raking up his back delicately. Phedre needed him, as much as she might be loathe to admit it at any point other than the dead of night with darkness surrounding them. In this moment, she could confess it. Destan was what she wanted, what she needed and hoped to always have. Their little spats, their major fights were nothing compared to the need she had in this moment.
“Make me yours.” She sighed against his neck, teeth nipping at the exposed skin beneath the line of his hair. Drawing back, blue eyes met his briefly as she moved her left leg slowly up his side. It curved around his back, soon followed by the other and she held him against her. Hot mouth found his and she pulled his head back down with the desire in their contact alone. A nervous knot developed in the pit of her stomach, making her tremble slightly but she wasn’t afraid. She didn’t want him to stop. There was no game now, no ulterior motive. Their actions were selfish, physical, necessary.
“I want to be yours.” She moaned again as her chest rose heavily in an attempt to breathe. The candles around the room began to flicker brighter and cast shadows on the wall. Even one that had all but gone out flared back to sudden life with the emotions that passed between them.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 12:26 pm
by Dollface
This part of their union was not supposed to be as intimate, as passionate as it was. Destan wasn’t meant to feel anything more than obligated to take his wife to bed, to eventually produce a male heir for their families to carry on the Cerul name. By the time that one of them passed, he had figured he wouldn’t need more than both of his hands the count the times he’d been intimate with Phedre. He assumed she only expected the same, as in the beginning she had been purely disgusted by the idea.
It was an opposite attraction of sorts, if only purely physical, though something was certainly lingering beneath the surface. It was apparent in the way that he was so careful with her earlier, how gentle he was with her now despite the fiery passion that was leaping wildly inside of him. Destan could see it in her, in her eyes, as she parted her lips in command for him to make him hers. A shuddery breath left him as her legs wound around him, pressing him closer, and he wanted absolutely nothing more than to oblige her request.
Destan moved slowly, at first, taking it into consideration that despite how much she wanted him, she’d never been with a man before. He moved languidly, carefully, but not without showering her in affection. When his mouth was not on her own, he found her skin easily, kisses peppered on her cheeks, her shoulders, between her breasts. His hands traveled her body almost frantically at some points, wanting to completely drink the feel of her against him in. The young woman beneath him and practically set him on fire in that moment, and he was itching to feel every inch of her body.
With a hand splayed at her back, the other cradling the back of his head, fingers lost in her hair, Destan maneuvered them so he shifted into her previous spot on the bed. The warmth of the sheet against his back, the warmth of her against him, elicited a soft sigh from his lips as he rest his head against her shoulder. At that point, the room was far more illuminated by the light of the candles than it had been even before they went to bed. The flames flickered and danced across the walls, their bodies shadowed against the cool walls of his room. Destan’s body temperature had risen considerably, and in any other situation he might have been uncomfortable, but he was far too distracted by Phedre, her hands and lips on him, and the soft sounds he drew from her as they made love.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 1:07 pm
by Simply
Pain blossomed and she couldn’t prevent the sharp inhalation of breath between clenched teeth. Her hands pressed more firmly on his back, taking strength from him. The pain peaked and then began to wane, giving way to a sensation she had never felt before. It was a gentle warming across her lower abdomen and then contractions and ripples of pleasure intermingled with the occasional stab of discomfort. Even in the state she was in, Phedre was aware of how tender he was with her, distracting each pinch of pain with a well-placed kiss. She felt the currents of movement in his back as they consummated their union.
Surprise escaped her in the form of a gasp when they switched, his strong grasp on her body keeping them united. This had not been something that her female companions had told her about but it certainly managed to find the appeal of it. His hands guided her and she became lost in him. The world faded away as she touched only him, focused on only him and thought of nothing but him.
Her breathing was ragged when she finally slipped to his side. All the tension that had been coiled inside her tightly like a snake unwound. An indulgent mew of surprise and satisfaction and something she couldn’t place left her lips as her head found a place beside his, resting against his shoulder that wasn’t exuding its typically cool radiance. The woman didn’t bother to retrieve the covers they had writhed beneath. They rested lightly across her stomach, diagonal and showing only a fraction of her belly button. The unsteady rhythm of her breathing began to take a more normal pace. Blue eyes remained closed until she knew that she would be capable of speaking again.
But what would she say?
Turning, she looked at him. She shifted her weight to her side and the sweat that had prickled her sink began to cool as her body was uncovered. Reaching, she drew the covers upward to rest just beneath her arm. Swollen lips parted and she longed to reach out and touch him. She restrained herself, suddenly awkward in his presence, even after all that they shared. Swallowing, she smiled slightly at him, a blush pressing itself to her cheeks, though it was hard to distinguish from the heat of what they just shared.
“I…” she looked down. “I don’t know what to say now.” The whispers were honest and low. The candles died, only one or two flickered low. Wax dripped into the receptacles. She stretched her legs downward and gave another contented sigh. Where would this encounter leave them when the sun rose
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 7:14 pm
by Dollface
In the silence that surrounded them in the moments after Phedre slipped away from him and to his side, Destan could hear his heart pounding through his ears, the sensation radiating from his head, to his fingertips, to his toes. His eyes were closed as well as he attempted to slow his breathing, running a hand through his air, and his body temperature began to cool down rapidly again. Droplets of sweat lingered his body still, and he would have drew the covers up over himself just as she had but decided to wait a moment.
The Cerul felt her body shift next to him, and his eyes opened, a slow smile creeping over his features as he took in the sight of her. He could just barely see the color creep into her cheeks, and he reached over to touch his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair from her face. At Phedre’s admittance that she didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. “Is that a good thing, then?” He questioned quietly, shifting himself onto his side. Now, he grabbed the sheet to pull it up to his waist, and propped up a hand beneath his head as he narrowed his eyes on her.
“No snide remark about how you were right to assume about my lack of ability?” Destan was teasing her, recalling things that she’d said to him during more than one of their arguments. Truly, he wasn’t sure what he expected her to say; it wasn’t as though he thought she would be singing his praises the moment that they finished. He knew well enough that she’d enjoyed herself, the moment that they shared, but it was more than just that for her. For them, really, because even if he didn’t realize it then, it solidified something in whatever sort of relationship they had with one another.
Dropping his arm to rest his head on the pillow beside hers, he leaned forward and kissed her gently, tenderly. “You’re not hurt or anything right? You’re okay?” Part of him wanted to ask if the experience was okay in its entirety, because he was still human and he was still at least a little bit curious. But something in him, perhaps his pride, kept that question in the back of his mind, and instead he let his eyes travel over the silhouette of her face.
Normally, since it was the middle of the night, he would have been entirely ready to fall back asleep. But it was as if he’d found a source of renewed energy, and the hours that they had slept must have been enough to cause an alertness in him. “You know,” he began, blue eyes filled with amusement, “since we went to bed without food, I find myself a bit peckish now.” The amusement in his eyes flickered to mischief. “I would say a certain someone who woke me in the first place should join me in finding a little something to eat before morning.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 7:34 pm
by Simply
At this joke, she rolled her eyes and also allowed herself to fall on her back, staring up at the ceiling. “Do not get arrogant now, husband. I won’t hesitate to make sure you are brought back down to the level of our mere mortals.” Playful eyes darted back to him, but she placed a hand on his chest right when he kissed her. “Mmmm” She murmured, licking her lips as he asked about her well-being. She couldn’t hide her surprised but allowed herself to smile.
“No, no I’m not hurt.” She ran her fingers up and down his chest. “It’s just difficult at first. All the women say so. It is similar to…well, no, it’s more…” The redness pressed against her cheeks and she looked away from him embarrassed. He would not want to hear her prattle on about the difference between the male and female sensations during lovemaking. He didn’t want to know all of that. Destan just needed to know that he didn’t irreparably harm her. “I’m fine.” The truth was, she was sore. Her whole body ached and she knew it would be a little uncomfortable for a day or two, but nothing more.
Phedre grinned at him and slipped from the bed, her bare back to him when she sat up. Casting a glance around, the lady of the house managed to spy her chemise. She retrieved it, swatting at his foot beneath the covers as she did so. Dressed once more, she rose gingerly and grabbed her robe form the chair she had carefully laid it on when she had only the intention of sharing his bed to sleep and recover from the ordeal of the past few days. “I am relatively incapable of making anything, though. And I doubt the staff would view us kindly for the noise we just made and then for asking them to make us something to eat.”
Practiced hand tied the sash around her waist. She crawled back onto the bed to hover over him. Tangled hair brushed against his shoulder as she lowered her mouth to capture his briefly. “We’ll have to rely on your skills in the kitchens, I’m afraid.” Phedre removed herself from the bed once more and headed towards the door. She placed her hand on the knob and twisted slightly, smirking at him. “Though, if they are anything like your skills you just demonstrated,” the fire bender pressed her lips together where the corners of her mouth curled upwards, “I don’t think I’ll be hungry when we’re done.”
Phedre pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway. “I’ll meet you down there. Don’t be long.” She slipped into the dark hallway and headed down to the kitchens, her fingers pressed against her lips. Her heart thudded and she couldn’t stop smiling like a child.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Aug 15, 2015 9:31 pm
by Dollface
When she sat up from the bed, Destan watched her and an eyebrow tilted upward, until she swatted at his foot which earned her a quick glare. That didn’t last long, and that smile of his returned as her chemise slipped back over her body. Then she stood, completely extricating herself from the bed and the young man sighed, wondering briefly if there was a way he could take back his last question and bring her back beside him. But it had been his idea to go downstairs to get food, and he truly was famished, so there was no going back currently, even if he really did want to return to the sheets and have her warm body next to his.
“I think I’ll be able to hold my own in the kitchen, thank you very much. We don’t need a full meal, breakfast isn’t too far off, but now that we’re awake…” He shrugged his shoulder as he sat himself up into a sitting position, pulling the covers over his lap as he searched for his shorts. Just then, she caught his lips with hers and he was distracted, lifting his hand to her neck to hold her in place. Now, it was very much a possibility that he might fall back to the bed with her again, keeping there with him instead of traveling down to the kitchen. As fast as she was kissing him, she was gone, leaving the bed and walking towards the door with a light comment about his particular skills.
“Oh, you flatter me so,” he commented with another lazy grin, spotting his pants out of the corner of his eye and grabbing them. He remained on the bed for a moment, though, even as she disappeared into the dark hallway by herself. Destan’s blonde head tipped back onto the headboard, blowing out a puff of air as he stared up at the ceiling. He had no clue what was going on here with them, but for the moment, he was enjoying it.
Legs swung over the bed, and he tugged his pants on, following in Phedre’s footsteps to head down to the kitchens. “Fancy meeting you down here,” he commented in a flippant manner, smiling as he passed by the stool she sat on. Coming up behind her, his hands dropped to her waist briefly and he kissed her neck, then her cheek. “Are you craving anything in particular?” He questioned her with a smirk, moving around to the other side of the island. “I don’t know much about the art of being a chef, myself, but I could show you what little I do know.”
When he turned around, it seemed that it was just an evening of luck for Destan. Cakes, muffins, and fresh fruit that was likely meant for some of the morning meals for the rest of the week were set out, and Destan abandoned the idea of doing anything too laborious...It was the middle of the night, after all.
He found two plates for them, and as he set up her plate, then his own, he turned briefly towards his wife. “I nearly forgot to mention,” he began, taking her plate to her and stopping to lean against the counter, “I ran into a good friend of mine in the city, I haven’t seen him in a while, he was one of my best friends growing up actually. I thought it might be nice to have him as a guest sometime.” Pausing, he walked back towards the plate of food he’d prepped for himself, and popped a grape into his mouth as he walked back towards his fire bending companion. “Of course, he is one of those disgusting water benders, I’m not sure if you’d want him in our home…” A corner of his mouth tilted upwards, “but you might find a friend in him, as well. If nothing else, I’m sure he’d be impressed with the stables, you’d have someone to ride with for once.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Aug 16, 2015 12:05 am
by Simply
Descending the stairs, she felt like it was her first day in court and a number of suitors had called on her father in the hopes of gaining her favor. Cheeks flushed pink and she couldn’t ignore the butterflies that flittered about in her stomach, making her anxious and excited all at the same time. She chewed on the inside of her lips, alternating between the right and the left side just before she entered the kitchen. She lit a number of candles and light filled the room. Her eyes fell on a number of items that were left out in preparation for the breakfast meal but she didn’t touch anything. Leave that to Destan. She seated herself at the stool and he soon followed her downstairs.
“Surprise me.” She responded, though quickly followed it up with a smirk. He managed to and she picked up a grape of he own and chewed it thoughtfully. “Another bender?!” Her tone sounded incredulous, but her lips betrayed her teasing, coupled with the crinkling of the corners of her blue eyes. The idea wasn’t unappealing in the slightest. Phedre would enjoy someone to ride with, because Destan had all but forbid her from asking him to join. “Well I am married to the heir apparent to the empire so…I suppose one more really can’t make it any worse than it already is.” Fingers tore into a piece of bread and set the remainder on the plate before her. “I think springtime would be best. Perhaps in April? The gardens will be in full bloom then and the riding will be pleasant.” The idea was appealing to her. She would be able to redecorate all that she had destroyed and have a few guests in the house to occupy the numerous rooms that went unattended each day. Perhaps they would also invite some others to join and make an affair out of the entire visit.
She finished off the food before her and turned in the chair to face him. “I am sorry for…” The motion she made with her hand was to wave at and acknowledge all of the altercations that they had had beforehand. “It is just,” she shrugged again. “You’re a Cerul, Destan, God.” The last word exhaled softly as she shook her head, tangled hair brushing against her face. She rubbed at her eyes. “How could I have expected anything but dishonesty and hatred? It wasn’t in me.” She rose to her feet and walked away from him but lingered in the room. Clasping her hands at her neck, emotion-filled eyes examined him. He looked so comfortable, casual in her presence when only a month ago she they would have sought to escape a room that the elementalist occupied.
“I’m not trying to begin a new fight, that’s not what this is about. I just…I don’t know what to say about all this. About what is happening. Should we ever talk about it or should we not? I don’t know what to say.” Phedre kept repeating the same phrases and realized how ridiculous she sounded. A nervous laugh escaped her then and she clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m just sorry, that’s all.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Aug 16, 2015 12:47 am
by Dollface
Sitting himself on the stool beside Phedre to eat, he felt comfortable, entirely at ease. A sigh of contentment left him as he finished a muffin, starting in on a crumb cake soon after. With everything that happened, he hadn’t realized just how hungry he’d end up being, and he commended himself on the wonderful idea of coming down to the kitchen for a midnight snack. As Phedre replied to him, he nodded his head in agreement to her words, but didn’t take much of a moment to pause for the time being as he was busy with his food.
He certainly wasn’t expecting an apology to anything, so he stopped mid-chew, turning his eyes towards her with an eyebrow lifting upwards. “Oh,” he mumbled, choosing to chew his food now before responding. “Where…is this coming from exactly?” He questioned, brushing his hands on his legs as he hadn’t bothered with finding the linen napkins considering the hour. Destan turned on his stool to watch her as she walked away from him, folding his arms across his still bare chest. Phedre left him confused, but he knew that something more was on her mind from the way she was speaking to him. Clearly, she had no filter, and he didn’t think that would be changing any time soon.
“You seem as though you would like to discuss it, Phedre,” he replied quietly, offering her a small smile as his arms dropped, and he leaned back to rest his elbows on the counter behind him. “I can accept your apology, though I’m not entirely sure what exactly it is you’re apologizing for.” Destan licked his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly. “As far as your only expecting dishonesty and hatred, it’s only natural considering how you… we, were brought up. We’re simply products of our environment. Not that it is much of an excuse.” Destan shrugged, figuring he had tread lightly enough on that subject to not cause an argument between the two of them.
“As far as what is happening…” He began, standing now from the stool as he crossed the cool floor to meet his wife where she stood. “I’m going to assume you mean the physical aspect of our marriage?” That eyebrow of his lifted again, as one of his hands moved to tuck a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what to say either; I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it a phase—after all, we are so new to one another. Perhaps this is the way that our marriage will continue, in a purely physical manner.” Pausing, his shoulders lifted and fell in another shrug. “You don’t know what to say, and that’s fine. Is there any use of making sense of it in the first place? Is there any reason to try to find some grand meaning beneath it?”
Sighing, he made a step closer to her, his hands resting gently at her waist. “Isn’t it okay that we manage to enjoy one another’s company now and again?” They’ve found a weird little spot in their marriage—it was more than what their parents had which their respective spouses, or so it seemed, where they were merely content and comfortable. Maybe they had a chance for that, Destan wasn’t sure, but what was occurring now was better than where it started at the very least.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Aug 16, 2015 10:26 am
by Simply
“I can’t stop thinking about it.” She responded, staring up at him as she fidgeted with her hands. Phedre was a strong woman, had always been capable of controlling herself but when it came to Destan she was incapable of any semblance of restraint. Anger flared in his presence. Desired burned hotter than it ever had. Fear gave way to tears. Even her tongue could not stop from voicing thing better kept to herself. It was terribly frustrating. The former Whitman enjoyed being in control of situations, particularly ones that involved her own emotions. It felt like he was pulling the strings and she was powerless to resist his charm.
“No, I suppose there isn’t but…” She shook her head, the strand he tucked behind her ear coming loose and brushing against her cheek again. “It is difficult for me, that’s all. You have this sway over me that I hate and enjoy all at the same time.” His hands fell to her waist and her heart skipped a beat, thrilling in her chest at the simple touch of his hand over her clothing. Her throat constricted and her mouth felt dry. She tried to swallow and leaned her head back against the wall she stood before.
“Like now…” She breathed, tilting her head up, her chin forming an obtuse angle as she met his eyes. “Right now I want to tell you have uncomfortable if is for me sometimes, whatever has changed between us, but then you saunter over here with that grin and the hum in your voice and all I can think about…” Gaze dropped to his lips momentarily and her hands were placed evenly on his chest, not pressing but not beckoning him any closer either. “I like where this is heading, I do. I enjoy what we have but then I feel…guilty, like it is a betrayal to who I am inside.”
Breaking their stare, she looked past him and then down at his hands. Her own ran up his chest, over his shoulders and down his arms, resting on his wrists. “I think I feel guilty about it. Do you not? Of course, our families put us in this position, arranging our marriage to end a feud. But don’t you feel that you’re betraying them by enjoying this – if you are?” A warmth crept up her back and hovered at her neck. “I should keep hating you, yelling at you, but I just…you defuse all that anger and hatred.” A gentle smile played her lips and she shook her head. She wasn’t made just now. She was merely confused.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Thu Aug 20, 2015 8:34 pm
by Dollface
Destan couldn’t mask his surprise when Phedre began to open up in such a vulnerable manner. He never would have expected her to admit that he had anything over her, or any affect, even if they both clearly knew it themselves. It’s not as though it was easy for him either, and he battled with how he felt about this situation, how he felt towards Phedre, but up until this point he hadn’t really given thought to actually bringing it up to her… Destan might not have picked now to have this conversation, considering their location and the fact that it was still the middle of the night, but now his lovely wife was off and running with her thoughts.
He stood there, still, an eyebrow lifted as he listened intently to her words. “You think I saunter?” He questioned, a hint of teasing to his words as he looked down at her, and certainly noticed the way her glance shifted down. Destan was beyond tempted to kiss her, to sweep her into his arms and return to bed with her, but he wasn’t sure it would have been a welcome distraction to her. “I understand,” Destan conceded quietly, “don’t feel like you’re alone in your feelings, Phedre, because it’s just as baffling to me. I never would have saw fit to discuss it like this, but then that’s yet another point where we’re different.”
Different wasn’t so bad, he thought, perhaps there was reason in not being so like one another that allowed things to… work, to some degree. No matter what happened with them, the longevity of this pleasant part of their marriage, he was sure she would always get under his skin in some way, would always irritate him. Her temper was wild, she was hot headed, impetuous. Like Phedre just mentioned, he managed to defuse much of that as he was calm unless provoked, kept his vulnerabilities hidden far deep beneath his surface, he did not act so rash… Not usually, at least, as it seemed that it might have been something she brought out in him.
“Phedre,” he spoke her voice low, taking a half a step forward towards her, shifting his hands slightly towards the small of her back. “Don’t begin questioning if I’m enjoying this, whatever arrangement we’ve created for ourselves. I can’t say I’ve felt guilty, but I do find it interesting that we’ve managed to sort of turn this around on our parents. Not to say that they were seeking to make us miserable, although they were well aware of the outcome,” the last bit he mumbled as an afterthought, “but I’m sure they weren’t expecting us to carry on like this. Not that they really need to know the details, either.”
The young man shrugged his shoulders, dipping his head down and setting his lips on hers. The kiss was soft, almost chaste, and his fingers gently gripped at the soft robe she wore. When he withdrew, he sighed, shaking his head slightly. “If it’s any reassurance to you, love, I’m sure we’ll still hate one another sometimes, I’m sure we’ll still yell, bicker, perhaps you’ll set some more furniture on fire,” he paused, grinning, “but I’d also like to reassure you that I’m more than content with this situation of ours.” Withdrawing his hands from her waist, Destan began to walk towards the entrance to the kitchen that led back out into the hall.
“Now,” he spoke, his voice holding a tone of finality as he turned to cast a glance in Phedre’s direction, “ it seems I’m being kept up all night, and I would like to get some sleep since someone woke me. Are you going to join me back in bed or shall I be returning by my lonesome?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2015 9:14 pm
by Simply
Phedre sighed, the odd mood that had taken her began to ebb away into the darkness of the night. His hands trailed her and then withdrew and she stepped lightly after him, following the path that he made towards the bedrooms upstairs. “Well, so long as you promise that the arguments will continue, then I suppose we can retire upstairs.” A smile danced along her lips as she passed him on the stairs. As she brushed against him, her hands reached out and grasped his, just as they reached the top of the curled staircase.
“Join me.” She breathed, tugging him towards her room. As she did, her eyes slid over him, taking him in. The way he walked was nonchalant but eager. Each stride was purposeful but light and he followed her with an amused intensity in his gaze. The entire way he moved was a contradiction that she reveled in. They reached her door and she pushed it open with her food, releasing his hand as she untied her robe. It slid down her moving form in the pitch-black room. Only the faint lights from the hall helped to guide her way.
The covers were cool against her bare flesh and she trembled slightly with it, pulling them tight up around her neck and turning to see him bathed in light with shadows masking his face. The curl of her lips was gentle as she reached a hand from beneath the fabric and beckoned to him. “Come, husband.” It was an odd sound to hear from her – her voice soft and summoning. “Come rest with me.” Her eyes closed and she stretched upwards and then a soft noise of comfort escaped her as her body relaxed back into the mattress.
The muscles of her body were tight and tender with her movements but they still sang with the exhaustion of their earlier activities. As her eyes closed, she could feel the press of his mouth against her chin, along the curve of her ear and the change in the temperature of his body. At the memory, Phedre let loose a little noise of pleasure and opened her eyes as the weight of him became evident on the mattress.
“Now, to sleep then?” She murmured, reaching out a hand to him.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Nov 14, 2015 12:08 am
by Dollface
There was no denying Phedre’s quest to join her in her room as they reached the top of the staircase – he wouldn’t have argued with her, but before long she had reached for him and he followed her steps, a smile lighting his lips. The time, their activities, the food settling in him was collaborating against him all at once, and each step they took closer to her room had him feeling eager to crawl into bed and pull her close and sleep well into the morning.
Her robe slipped from her frame, the smile at his lips widening just slightly, and the young man fought a comment about another attempt at seducing him. Phedre had no intention of that, he could tell, and as they entered her room he shut the door quietly behind them. From there he watched her, the quick languid movements of her body beckoning him forward as he too dropped his clothing to the floor. It took no time to join her under the covers, pulling them over him as he drew her body against his, dropping one last kiss to her chin, along her jaw, her ear, before finding her lips one last time.
Sleep came easy that night, quickly, and he only woke once. He was completely disoriented, not to mention warm, but once he calmed and realized where he was – and had Phedre beside him – he cooled and drifted off until the late morning.
Just as he’d promised Phedre that night, many more arguments were soon to follow despite the now physical nature of their marriage. As their arguments went, they were heated, only fueling his passion and desire for her. But sometimes… sometimes Destan wouldn’t see Phedre for a day after a particularly bad fight. More chairs had been replaced, curtains as well, even some of the tapestries and artwork that had been in the Cerul family for longer than Destan would have known.
The winter soon passed into spring. As the months went on, they were visited both by his family and her own around Christmas, though Brunien was not present at any point. Destan would have found it suspect if he actually cared for his brother, but they were able to have a somewhat peaceful holiday without the antagonistic Cerul around and that was all Destan could have asked for. For the most part, their lives went on uninterrupted for a few months; they went about their normal business, and there had been no other attacks made on Phedre. He’d been sure to hire a few more staff members to assure their security, but it was likely unnecessary as any time Destan went out of town, Phedre joined him.
Destan certainly noted the shift in their relationship. There were times he still wanted nothing to do with her, surely she wanted to set him on fire now and then, but there was nowhere near the amount of hatred they held for each other at the beginning of their marriage. He respected Phedre, he enjoyed her, a part of him might have suspected he was on the brink of having some sort of love for her but never had he allowed that thought to fully form. Besides, Phedre would probably have a laugh if she knew anything even dared to possibly cross his mind.
Currently, he wasn’t concerned about it at all. In fact, they were in the throes of an argument that hadn’t dissipated since the day before. They were both acting stubborn, hardheaded about the plans for the week – Destan’s old family friend, Lachlan was coming to the estate to visit as they had arranged in his last visit alone to London. What he hadn’t disclosed to his wife yet was that Lachlan’s sister, Cordelia, would be joining him as well.
After a quiet breakfast, Destan had retreated to his bedroom to get changed, taking the moment to let himself cool off and convince himself that they needed to smooth things over before their guests arrived. Destan left his room to walk down the hall towards Phedre’s quarters, dragging his fingers through his hair and adjusting his shirt at the wrists before lifting his hand to knock on the door. When she pried it open, he flashed her a smile, as if nothing had transpired the previous day or that morning. “Are you ready for our guests, love?” He stepped forward to enter her room, lifting a hand to touch a strand of her hair behind her ear. “They should be here any moment now, and I must say, I do think you’ll get along well with Lachlan.”
Cordelia…. Well, that would be an entirely different story, and Destan was already bracing himself for the storm that he was creating.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Nov 14, 2015 12:53 am
by Simply
Days were spent running the day-to-day operations of their home and many hours arguing with her husband. Chairs were soaked with water, the damage ruining a number of carpets when they fought elementally and emotionally. Then they would take a trip to London to make up and purchase items to repair their home with. Such was the luxury of not having to worry about money that would roll in each week from the business end of the Cerul family trade.
The fire elementalist hated him most days and yielded to the fiery passion of their unions in the evening hours. At times, she would lock her bedroom door and forbid him entrance. He was much the same when she was the cause of their disagreement. It only fueled the fire of their mutual rages when something such as that occurred. Phedre would spent a whole day aptly avoiding him around the grounds of their home, making certain that they did not cross paths. Her anger would be so great that she would purposefully enter his room only to set fire to some new article of clothing that he had purchased. She would allow the embers to smolder and die, with the ashes piled properly in a place that he would see them.
Call it childish, if you must, but it often led to some of the…loudest midnights that manor had ever seen. And certainly not from the shouts of an argument.
Her affection for him grew with nearly every day, even when she was aching to rip his head off. Destan was kind and comical, knowing the best way to make her laugh. He could manage it in the middle of a spat as well. As much as she hated smiling when she had been frustrated for some reason or another, Phedre grew accustomed to him being around and his presence in her life was something she looked forward to. Their parents visited and she found herself, after two weeks of their attendance for the holidays, that she ached for the alone times that the two of them could share together.
Now was not one of those times, however. The argument had started as something simple, the fact that he wanted to invite a number of people over for a large gala in order to show off to his friend. It wasn’t an unreasonable request in the slightest. Destan was proud of his home and his status and wanted to show it off a little. The anger erupted when he expected her to have something so complex done only two days after the man arrived.
She opened the door and placed one of her hands on her hip. The other was holding up the door, leaning on it partially. Phedre had dressed herself in a soft blue with a trim of silver. It cinched at her waist, holing her breasts up in the fashion of the day. Blonde head leaned into the touch, just slightly, before she stepped back and away from him. “Love, now is it?” She raised one eyebrow. “I think the term was controlling shrew last evening. Perhaps, I do recall that there was a irrational thrown in there as well.”
Then she realized that he had said they. They. “They?” She asked, her eyebrows came together. “Who is coming with Lachlan. I thought it was just your friend.”
Posted: Thu Feb 04, 2016 12:58 am
by Dollface
Considering their rather tumultuous marriage, one would think that Destan would have thought it wiser to let his wife in on his little secret – that Cordelia would be joining her brother Lachlan on his visit to their estate. He did have his reasoning though, and prior to this moment where he let the ‘they’ slipped he thought he was completely in the right. At the very least, perhaps Phedre wouldn’t try to set him on fire while company was around. One could only hope, of course and Destan was full of it at the moment.
“Oh, darling,” he sighed, stepping in towards her at the reminder of their argument from the evening prior, “let’s not dwell on the past, shall we? Do I need to bring up every awful thing you’ve called me in the middle of our arguments?” He paused, blue eyes following the path of the dress that adorned her body, “I’m much more focused on the present, anyway, and presently – you look stunning.” The smile on his lips did not last long – his facial expression dropped as quickly as hers changed when Phedre picked up on his stupid mistake.
The young man’s brows furrowed. Perhaps he’d be able to mask his mistake with his own confusion? Destan was reeling, and he quickly pulled in his composure as not to show his bluff. “Of course, they,” he said smoothly, giving her a look as though she’d been the one who let it slip from her mind. “I know I brought it up to you, Phedre.” Destan was trying not to sound as though he was patronizing her, but he was busy trying to save face her and not have an explosive argument in the moments before one of his dearest friends arrived at his home.
“Oh, I’m certain that I mentioned it. Lachlan’s sister, Cordelia, is accompanying him, don’t you recall?”
Phedre wouldn’t recall. Destan knew she wouldn’t recall, simply because he hadn’t mentioned it to her, and for very good reason. It was absolutely no secret that Destan had been with other women prior to his marriage; however, it also wasn’t something he went into great detail with when it came to his wife. Being that Lachlan was one of his oldest friends, Destan had known Cordelia most of his life as well, so it was almost written in the stars that they would end up together at one point, but marriage was obviously never apart of their fate. Somehow, the stars saw it fit to marry him to his completely and utter opposite.
Destan could feel the air between them changing, he could feel her warmth. He settled his hands along her arms in an attempt to sooth her, but his past experiences told him that if she was really, truly angry with him this wasn’t going to help him all that much. Destan would be damned if he didn’t try.
“I know we’ve been quite busy lately, so I understand how it could have slipped from your mind or my own recently.” He quirked the corner of his mouth up into a warm smile, “what’s one more guest, anyway? It isn’t like we haven’t got the rooms, right?”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Feb 28, 2016 7:02 pm
by Simply
Phedre felt the heat rising inside of her, pressing itself against the inside of her skin. It longed to be unleashed on the object f her disapproval – her husband. Yet, he coaxed her down, urging her to be cautious, to think clearly for a few moments. While the lady of the manor was positive that her husband was just mentioning the multiple visitors for the first time, he did have a point. What did it matter if there was another guest in their home? That might give her someone to spend her time with, as the gentlemen would undoubtedly turn to their personal hobbies.
The dark sheen to here eyes slipped away and she sighed, brushing her hand against his face for a moment as she heard the butler head outside in order to greet those about to arrive. “You’ll get away with it this time, but I know you didn’t mention her beforehand.” A small smile played at her pink lips, revealing the white edges of her teeth but not displaying the full crown.
“I’ll have Margaret prepare the sister a room, if she absolutely has to say with us.” The word was added with a roll of her eyes for additional emphasis. She slipped back up the stairs to speak with the upper rooms maid. The woman was promptly instructed to prepare the western facing room for their guest. Such a bedroom would allow the guest a fine view of the sunset when she dressed for dinner. It also was located directly across from her brothers and two rooms down from Phedre’s own chambers.
The blonde moved back down the stairs just in time to see the butler directing the underbutlers with the luggage that the siblings had brought. She could discern Destan’s voice happily greeting the man outside and the laughter of a woman. She could tell by the tones that there was a familiarity between the three of them that Phedre would be considered an outsider. It unnerved her slightly. The feeling gnawed at her, growing stronger with each step she took towards the door. It was uncommon, of course, for a master of the house to greet his guests outside. Destan was no ordinary man and for that, his wife was grateful. Bright blue eyes peered out at him as the wind picked up and nearly took away the woman’s hat. Destan caught it, but Phedre’s eyes fell on the woman’s face.
Cordelia was an exceptional beauty. Her face was round and revealed her upper class origins with the hollow beneath her cheekbones. Staring was improper, but she couldn’t help herself. Swallowing, she put on her best smile and tilted her head slightly to the side. “Destan, darling, don’t keep them out there forever or the wind will carry them away.” Her gaze turned toward the male component of the guest pair. Lachlan had the same angelic look that his sister did; yet there was an underlying ruggedness to his face. The attractiveness of his appearance was undeniable but she scanned over him to watch her husband deliver the hat back into the waiting hands of Cordelia, who laughed delightedly.
“Thank you, Desie.” Desie? Phedre’s hands grew hot and the wood beneath her palm began to burn. Hurriedly, the hand returned to her side and she crossed them in front of her. The smile remained on her lips but her eyes were cautiously studied the space between her husband and Cordelia. There was a story there and Phedre would be damned if Destan didn’t tell her the whole truth of it tonight.
“You have such a lovely home.” Cordelia commented and she moved past Destan’s wife. Lachlan followed behind her but turned to take Phedre’s hand. He brought it to his lips, keeping contact with her eyes. A blush rose across her cheeks and she glanced down, her smile turning into a grin.
“Such a pleasure to meet the rose that was able to capture Destan’s wandering eye.”
“The pleasure is mine. My husband has been awaiting your arrival for weeks.” Lachlan released her hand and followed after his sister, who was readily looking around the entrance hall and the maids led her down to the sitting room. Destan followed and she quickly grabbed his hand, squeezing a little too firmly. Their eyes met and her blazed with an internal fire.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Feb 28, 2016 11:38 pm
by Dollface
For the time being, it seemed that Destan was able to placate his wife – how long that would last, he wasn’t sure, and he could only hope that nothing would start with their company in the same room. Destan did realize that Phedre might feel outnumbered considering the three were all had the gift of water, and all three had grown up together since they were kids running around their families’ gardens. He kept it in mind, not to make her feel left out, but there was certainly no masking his excitement as their carriage stopped in front of his home.
When his wife’s voice reached his ears, he escorted his old friends into his home. There was a palpable shift in the air, he could feel it emanating from Phedre, and it was then he knew he wasn’t entirely in the clear with her just yet. He chose to completely ignore the use of Cordelia’s old nickname for him, instead shifting his eyes towards Lachlan who greeted Phedre politely. “Wandering eye? You’re one to speak, Lachlan, I’ve yet to hear word of you courting anyone.” The blonde male grinned and his friend did the same, Cordelia snorting at the suggestion of her brother courting someone as well.
There was a reason the two men had remained good friends for many years, after all.
It wasn’t a topic up for discussion though, and he certainly was hoping to change the subject as they moved on into the sitting room. He began to follow after the others when Phedre gripped his hand and he stopped, turning, catching her fiery gaze and immediately felt his stomach knotting. “Whatever you’re upset about, can we please leave it for later?” His eyebrows lifted, a note of impatience in his words in spite of his attempt to ease her. “Please, Phedre. We’ll go in, have tea, and I’m sure they’ll want to retire to their chambers to rest after their journey anyway.”
Her hand was hot in his, and he had to wonder if it was intentional or not. Destan pulled her flush up against him, lifting a hand to her hair, tucking it behind her ear, trailing his fingers down over her shoulder. “It wouldn’t hurt for us to have a moment to ourselves, either.” With a smirk, and a wink, he gave her hand a squeeze now before he turned, leading her in the direction of the sitting room.
In the time that they’d been in the hall, Cordelia sat herself on a sofa while Lachlan observed the art and tapestries on the wall, eyes drifting out the window that overlooked the land. Cordelia noticed immediately as Destan entered the room, her cool blue eyes floating between the couple. “Well, there you two are. I was wondering if perhaps you ran off together and left my poor brother and I to our own devices in your lavish home, Destan.” The woman crossed her legs at the ankle, letting her hands float to rest on her knees lightly. “Phedre, have you decorate the room? It’s absolutely gorgeous.” While her smile and her words seemed genuine, Destan wasn’t so sure.
He waited for Phedre to seat herself before he sat beside her in one of their – newer – high backed chairs. Two servants entered the room then, setting two trays on the table between the chairs and the sofa, offering teas and small sandwiches accompanied by fruits and cheeses to their guests. Lachlan happily obliged, seating himself beside his sister then. “Thank you again, Phedre, for sharing your home with my sister and I. I don’t mind so much imposing on Destan here, but I do hope our stay won’t be any inconvenience at all.”
Cordelia’s eyes were settled firmly on Destan, and he caught her gaze for a moment which only caused her to smirk. He cleared his throat all too conspicuously, and attempted to cover the blunder by reaching for a cup and pouring tea for himself, his blue eyes wandering towards his wife. “It’s nice to have some company for once, outside of our families,” he implored, lifting his eyebrows, “don’t you think, darling?”
“Oh, company,” Cordelia snuck in, laughing lightly, “you could hardly call us company, Destan, considering how well we all know each other.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Mon Feb 29, 2016 11:25 pm
by Simply
“I’m not trying to start an argument, Destan. At least, not just now, anyways.” She breathed, keeping her voice low just in case their guests had exceptional hearing abilities. “I just…she unnerves me, that’s all.” The truth filled the space between them and she shook her head gently. Her lips parted as she was about to say something else to him, but he drew her against his body and it took her breath out of her lungs. The impatience of his prior tone was readily forgotten as a new heat rose inside of her. “Fine,” she exhaled the word, unable to find another one right at that moment. Licking her lips, she walked at his side. “It wouldn’t. You did just get back from London a few days ago, after all.”
With a happy smile on her lips, she entered the room to find that Cordelia had seated herself on their sofa. Something about seeing the beautiful woman lounging made Phedre’s skin tingle with the desire to burn the nearest object. “We did it together, actually. Destan has quite the eye for interior design, though it helps when his family has one of the most well furnished estates in the country.” She cast a glance over at him and some, if they didn’t know the pair better, might have called it a loving look. It was merely an appreciation for his talents and a mutual agreement to be civil during the day and…less so by night.
She moved in and took a seat in her favorite armchair. Anna Marie, the newest addition to their staff, poured Phedre her tea. She was quite adept at her work, their newest hire. She already learned that the lady of the hour liked two lumps of sugar and a dash of milk in her tea and prepared it thusly. Taking it with a grateful nod, Phedre brought it to her lips. While the temperature might have been too much for her water counterparts, she had always been partial to near-boiling temperatures for her warmed beverages.
“It is our pleasure to host you, Lachlan. I must say that Destan has spoken of you so frequently and with such detailed accounts of your adventures that I feel as though I already know you in some aspects.” She smiled and a teasing note played in her voice. “Though I fear I haven’t been given all of the details in some tales.” She cast a glance at her husband and grinned. “And though not by blood, he has confessed you’re probably his favorite brother.” The comment made by the other female made the hairs on the back of Phedre’s neck prickle with irritation. It was meant to incite, she could tell that much. Being raised partially at court alerted her to this individual’s intentions but even though she knew them to be incendiary, she could not keep from wanting to singe the woman’s pretty hair.
“Yes, it’s lovely to have guests that aren’t related to us,” she noticed the way Cordelia’s eyes lingered on Phedre’s lover, “but still as close as family. “ She added the last bit and Cordelia’s eyes turned to her. They held each other’s gaze for a few moments before Phedre turned to Lachlan. “Destan has quite the day planned for you both, as I understand it. He has even mentioned hosting a small event, in your honor and I think that this manor could use a formal affair.”
“I agree wholeheartedly. It would be lovely to see the gardens lit with candle lights and gowns rustling among the rooms. Dessie, don’t you think that would just be the best idea?” The nickname resulted in Phedre’s grip tightening on her cup and she slowly lowered it to the table at her side. That way, neither of their guests would be able to see it boil over the brim.
“You should help me plan then, Cordelia. It has been such a long time since I have planned a gala of any reasonable size. I could use your expertise.” She smiled and turned to look at Destan, so that she would not be tempted to incinerate the other woman’s dress. “You did mention that she does throw affairs to remember, did you not?” It was a fib and he knew it, but he would play along – she hoped. Phedre had heard of their family before. Of course, they had never fraternized with each other – having been opposing elements – but England was a small country and gossip traveled readily among ladies of their station.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Wed Mar 02, 2016 12:21 am
by Dollface
There was palpable tension in the air and while Destan could usually diffuse a situation easily, with the way that Cordelia was acting, he wasn’t sure that was going to be the case. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what she was doing and why for that matter. Originally, Cordelia hadn’t been invited, but she managed to worm her way into her brother’s plans and Destan hadn’t refused simply because he didn’t want to deal with her on the matter. He supposed he assume that it would be fine, perhaps in time Cordelia had changed and wouldn’t incite or instigate anything with Phedre.
However, she called him ‘Dessie’ again and he noticeably cringed, giving a harsh laugh and a smile to match in her direction. “Really, Cordelia, no one has called me that in ages. I’d mind the childhood nicknames if I were you, perhaps I’ll decide to rescind your invitation to such a party.” Though the words and his tone were relatively light, calm, he was hoping that Cordelia would get the hint. Reading her expression from across the coffee table though, he could see that she didn’t particularly care about the request – and she seemed all too focused on Phedre now and the next suggestion that came from her.
The other woman scrutinized the blonde, and Destan looked at her with amusement lighting his blue eyes. She was cunning, and he smirked in her direction, nodding his head once in firm agreement. “Oh, of course, everyone would be talking about such an affair for months. I’d wager everyone would want to hire the two of you for all of their lavish affairs.” He tossed an amused expression in Cordelia’s direction, the raven haired woman wearing a thin smile while Lachlan just sat beside her and shook his head. While everyone seemed relatively privy to what was happening – although not everyone was privy as to why exactly – no one was going to call a spade a spade here.
“Certainly,” Cordelia finally replied, her tone clipped, her eyes settled on Phedre over the rim of her glass she sipped her tea from. “Perhaps a day trip out into the city would be in order. Nothing would do but the absolute finest for such a soiree. Not to mention, I’d absolutely love to see your home in the city, Destan. It’s such a shame I – we – haven’t had a chance to visit there yet either.” The woman sighed in a slightly exaggerated fashion, running her hands over her dark hair that was done up in a twist.
Avoiding the comment, Destan took the time to take a sip of his tea before turning his attention to his friend. “You have to visit the stables while you’re here, Lachlan, I’m sure Phedre would be more than happy to show you around and join you for a ride.”
Before poor Lachlan could even get in a word edgewise, Cordelia chirped in with her laughter, setting her cup down while she shook her head. “Oh, Destan, you mean to tell me she hasn’t even gotten you on a horse yet?” She laughed again, as if she was entirely incredulous, before she turned her gaze towards Phedre again. “You don’t know, do you dear? I’m terribly sorry, I suppose I shouldn’t spill your husband’s secrets, that would be awfully rude. Perhaps I’m delirious from my long journey, I really, truly do apologize.” However, Cordelia didn’t seem very sorry as she grinned, tossing a gratuitous wink in Destan’s direction.
“Cordelia,” Lachlan rested a hand on his sisters arm, as if he was trying to use his own powers to quell her, “perhaps we should be shown to our rooms and rest.” The young man looked between Destan and Phedre then, “you two wouldn’t mind? I know I would like to rest after the trip, and it seems as though Cordelia should as well.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Tue Jul 05, 2016 8:57 pm
by Simply
Cordelia flicked her wrist in Destan’s direction, dismissing all discussion of nicknames and the like. Phedre was her target now. Phedre settled a little more comfortably into her chair once Destan started speaking about the ball they would host for their guests. “We might be a bit out of their price range, darling.” She laughed softly as her eyes focused on the sheen of blue-black hair that brushed against Cordelia’s cheek. They were all quite aware of the double meaning to every word they spoke, but unfortunately for Phedre’s temper – she could not bluntly call out the woman before her.
“You’re positively right. We should make a trip at the end of this week into the city. Lady Morrone just opened a new shoppe on the boulevard and the reviews have been nothing short of raving.” She resisted the urge to turn her face towards her husband. “Though, I fear with all the excitement planned for your brother and my husband,” she paused, letting the final word sink in, “they may not be able to join us on our little venture.” But the female guest had already upped the ante. She brought in a secret that Destan and her shared…only them. Swallowing hard, the lady of the house made certain to blink regularly. Heat bubbled in the pit of her stomach and began to burn through her skin, rushing outward with redness trailing in its wake. Before it reached her visible skin, she exhaled slowly and inaudibly. It would not due to burn the woman to a crisp.
Murder and arson were not the best methods for starting a romantic evening now that her husband was back.
“Of course, Lachlan.” Phedre rose and pressed her hands flat against her dress as if riding herself of the distasteful emotions that welled up in her throat. “You are looking rather worn, Cordelia, from your travels. A bath and some rest should help clear your mind and resolve the weariness around your eyes.” Pointing out another woman’s impending crow’s feet was not the way to make friends, but Phedre was fairly certain that the possibility for amnesty between them was a fantasy. Not that she minded, much. The other woman had entered her home and proceeded to flaunt about the relationship has had with Phedre’s husband. It was entirely inappropriate.
Reaching towards the small side table where her glass resided, she retrieved the small golden bell. The ringing softly filled the room but one of the maids promptly attended the tune. “Mistress?” She inquired in a soft, country accent.
“Lord Lachlan and his sister would like to retire for the evening. Have their trunks been placed in their rooms?”
“Certainly, m’lady. We have taken the liberty of hanging all of Miss Cordelia’s dresses. Lizzy shall be attending her during her stay. Lord Lachlan’s valet has seen to his things.” Inclining her head, Phedre motioned for their guests to follow their servant.
“Abigail will escort you to your rooms. Please, sleep well and do ring if there is anything you require.” She smiled widely at Lachlan and her lips pressed together when Cordelia passed her, exiting the room. The sound of their footsteps resounded above them before she rounded on her husband. There were so many words that she wanted to say, resting on the tip of her tongue, but all that she managed was to cross her arms and raise her eyebrows tat indicated ‘well?!’
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Tue Jul 05, 2016 10:31 pm
by Dollface
Sitting next to Phedre, Destan thought he could feel the heat beginning to rise from her. He thought about reaching a hand over to touch hers, that maybe he could bring her temperature down that way as well as her temper, but he thought better of it. It might just be more likely that Phedre would shift her focus to him. Truthfully, he’d rather her focus be on Cordelia, and he really had to try not to laugh when his wife made that jab about the other young woman’s appearance. He certainly didn’t fail to notice the way that Cordelia briefly lifted a hand towards her face, finger tip touching the corner of her eyes as she shot daggers back at Phedre.
No more words had been shared between the two women though, and Destan ignored the look that Cordelia was giving him. Instead, he sipped at his tea as Phedre spoke with the maid. As Lachlan and Cordelia exited the room, he set his cup down and stood, nodding in their direction with the faintest of smiles on his lip. Even as Phedre turned on him, her blue eyes wild, his smile remained. “That went…” his words trailed as he tried to find the right way to put it, stepping closer towards her. “I suppose it could have been worse, right? You didn’t set any of our tapestries on fire, I would call that a success.” Destan lifted a hand, his fingers touching strands of her blonde hair behind her ear.
The Cerul was hoping that he could smooth this over with his wife rather quickly. After all, they hadn’t had more than a few days to themselves, and the last day and a half they’d spent in an argument it felt like. Though, it certainly wasn’t uncommon, but Destan was hoping that with their company things between them could be… pleasant. Calm. But calm was certainly guaranteed with Phedre.
Calm, she wasn’t calm right now. Then again, if he really thought about it, the young man wasn’t entirely sure if he’d seen her in a state that he could describe as calm. Destan’s hand fell to her upper arms as he stepped closer to her, his thumbs brushing over her skin. “Shall we retreat upstairs ourselves, darling?” He questioned her with his head tipped to the side, an eyebrow tilted as well. Lips shifted into an even wider smile now. “I’d say you deserve some rest too, after all you’ve done to prepare for their visit. You’re quite the hostess.”
Touching a finger to her chin, he pressed his lips against her cheek, and stepped away to head in the direction of the hall. “How about we have dinner sent to the room? Dessert too, if you’d like,” he suggested, turning on his heel to look towards her again. “That way you won’t have to deal with Cordelia until morning, at least.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Wed Jul 06, 2016 9:47 am
by Simply
For once, the water elementalist hopes and prayers were answered. His wife’s anger dissipated slowly as he spoke to her, though it was certain it would rage to new heights when she saw that despicable little minx again. While her displeasure seeped away, her curiosity remained. What sort of relationship did Cordelia have with her husband? Phedre was no naïve child, she was aware of the past her husband had and did not much care one way or the other about his dalliances before her. Even now, she could understand if he currently had a woman or two in the city for when he was away. It was something that wives understood about their spouses. Yet, something about the familiarity – the intimacy – in which Cordelia addressed Destan gnawed at the very fabric of Phedre’s being.
She was jealous.
And that realization made her all the more uneasy.
“Yes, let’s.” She murmured, trailing out after the pair that had exited moments before. Blue gaze caught that of Abigail’s as the woman descended the stairs – having escorted their visitors to their room. “Abigail, please have chef prepare dinner and bring it to Lord Cerul’s chambers. We will be dining upstairs this evening. See to it that our guests have all they require.”
“Yes, mistress. Any requests for your meal?”
“Lamb, if possible. And cake.”
Phedre wasn’t one to indulge in sweets frequently but something about the evening made her crave something chocolate. As Abigail nodded and left them, Phedre rounded the stairs and spoke to Destan as he followed after her. “It would be much more pleasant if I did not have to deal with her at all.” She murmured, barely audibly. Arriving at his chambers, she took residence in a small chair that rested by the window. The sun was beginning to hide behind the trees in the distance. She watched it blaze and dim, before she spoke to her husband once more.
“She speaks too familiar with you, Destan. She openly slights me in my own home.” She pressed her chin to her fingertips as her elbow rested on the arm of the chair. Blonde hair brushed against her cheek and caught the last rays of the sun sneaking through the panes of the window. It illuminated the color beautifully. “Has she always acted thusly?” She shook her head and pushed herself up, her actions belying the discomfort she felt internally. Restlessness was not typically part of her.
“And I know it isn’t my place and I don’t expect you to answer, but if you want to tell me, I would…” She waved a hand. She would appreciate it? She needed to know. She needed to be on even footing with that raven-haired wench down the hall but…she didn’t want to know just for that. Phedre longed to know Destan deeper, beyond their physical relationship. They were to be married for the remainder of their natural lives, after all. Why was he so afraid? What had happened? A sigh escaped her lips. “She knows precisely what buttons to push, as though she knows my temper – knows what irks me. It bothers me that she has so much control over me and such” another frustrated exclamation. “I don’t like her being here.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Wed Jul 06, 2016 4:20 pm
by Dollface
Destan was more than relieved that their conversation wasn’t escalating into an argument, that they were going to head upstairs for the evening and forget about the tumultuous interaction between Phedre and Cordelia. He was glad to be following Phedre to his chambers, after she’d spoken to Abigail again. Destan remained close to Phedre, a hand at her lower back as he escorted her upstairs, and also kept an eye out for a wandering Cordelia who might be around to stir up more trouble. He certainly wouldn’t past her, even though she had practically been banished to her quarters like a petulant child.
Once they’d reached his quarters, Destan shut the door softly behind them, watching her from the place he stood at the other side of the room. There was something about her expression that looked more than just troubled, and for that he felt guilty, for not telling her sooner or telling her the entire truth. “Have you considered perhaps she’s jealous of you? Think about it.” Destan stepped towards her then and was prepared to take the seat across from her when she stood. “It’s not outside of her nature to act like that, no. She’s brash, regardless of how long she’s known someone. But you have everything she could ever want.”
To him, it did seem simple enough, but the male also didn’t expand on the ‘everything she could ever want’ part. “I’ve known her as long as Lachlan, we’ve grown up together. He’s the brother I would have much preferred to the ones I’d been given.” Destan’s lips tilted up into a smile then as he watched her, the way that she paced here and there, but he didn’t move to try and stop her and calm her. She needed a way to get out her frustration that was conducive to soothing her temper.
“Ask me and I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know,” he offered to her, stepping closer to her now, but seated himself on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t help but laugh lightly at her statement about Cordelia’s control over her. The blonde shook his head, reaching for her hand then, brushing his thumb lightly over her knuckles. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the time we’ve been married, it’s that none of us have any sort of control over you, Phedre. Especially another woman who’s only slighting you because she gets some amusement out of seeing you frustrated.”
There was a light knock on the door, and Destan called for the maid and a young man from the kitchen staff to enter. They set the tray on the small table by the window, two plates filled with lamb, vegetables, potatoes, paired with wine for the Lord and Lady – and not to forget the decadent cake that Phedre requested as well. “Thank you Abigail, Peter, I think that’s all we’ll need for now.” Destan nodded towards them with a small, watching as they left before focusing on Phedre again.
“It won’t be a lengthy visit, and the estate is large enough that I’m sure you can manage to avoid her as much as you please. You have no obligation to accompany on any visit to the city with her, unless for whatever reason you’d like to… Although, under that circumstance I might just assumed she’s poisoned you or put a spell on you, something of the sort.” Amusement filled his eyes, his words, as Destan stood then to move towards the table to begin their meal.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2016 9:24 am
by Simply
At the mention of jealousy, Phedre rolled her eyes. The more he spoke, however, the more sense it made. Bright eyes lowered down to look at the floor beneath her feet. Yes, the possibility that she was jealous made a significant amount of sense but the audacity of the woman surprised Destan’s wife. He made no move to soothe her physically and her mind filed that away for a short while – he knew her. Phedre absolutely needed to release her frustrations physically and when proper society prevented her from burning something to a crisp – well, pacing would have to do.
“Well, I do agree that he is quite a pleasant gentleman, though much less loquacious when his sister is in the room. She does command a room very readily.” A wave of her hand with sparks flickering from her nails. “But why? I could potentially understand that she is jealous but she seems so malicious in her words that – oh – I’m not certain about her in the slightest. She makes me extremely uneasy.” Another lap was made towards the bedside table and back again to the chair she had occupied moments before.
The aroma of fresh food made her stomach rumble in anticipation. Being angry always worked up an appetite. “It is hardly proper for me to avoid her entirely. If so, she could sashay off back to London with tales of how improper and rude Destan Cerul’s new bride was.” Blue eyes darted towards him with a very stubborn set to her features. “I will certainly not have that.” No, certainly not. Phedre was not one to be upstaged or slandered because someone else had a vendetta of unknown cause.
The lady of the manor brushed his hand where he sat at the end of the bed as she made her way back towards the small window and took her place at one of the chairs beside the table. She drew the smaller of the portioned plates towards her and began cutting at the lamb and vegetables with a vigor that suggested she may be imagined it as some part of Cordelia. The fork screeched across the china and she winced, before decided that it was an appropriated enough size to chew and swallow. After a few bites settled her in a better sense of ease, Phedre leaned back, still holding her fork in her hand, and met his gaze.
He sat across from her, very closely, compared to their formal dining room downstairs. “That would be the most likely scenario. I would not be surprised if she was some sort of witch or demon…” A sigh. “I am sorry, I know she’s your childhood friend and I shouldn’t speak of her thusly but she knows how to make my blood boil without even having any real,” she gestured with her free hand and flames danced between her fingers delicately.
Another couple of bites, finishing off her vegetables and leaving only a small portion of meat behind, she drew the large dessert towards him. The smell of chocolate filled her nostril and she inhaled deeply. Twirling her form for a moment in the rich icing, she looked up at him, then down again and then up once more.
“What is it with you and horses, Dessie?’ She hoped the joke about Cordelia’s nickname would…set him a bit more at ease.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Oct 23, 2016 11:31 pm
by Dollface
It hadn’t immediately occurred to Destan what it might mean for them – for Phedre – if the two women did not get along. (Although at this point, it was not a matter of if, rather a matter of when.) He was not one of those men who didn’t understand the niceties that needed to be considered when entertaining, especially family friends who would be so ready to spew gossip to the first ear they could. A sigh parted Destan’s lips, knowing that this could have been prevented entirely, but it was too late now, wasn’t it? Cordelia was here. Rooms away.
For the time being he tried to turn his thoughts away from the other woman, focusing then on the meal before him. Blue eyes did not lift to Phedre as she spoke, not until she apologized for the way that she spoke about Cordelia. He cast a quick glance up to her, an amused chuckle leaving him as he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, Phedre. It would be a rather good explanation for her demeanor if that is the case, though perhaps if she were a demon, she’d be wielding fire just as well as you… And who knows, the two of you could be the best of friends.” He teased her lightly, taking a bite of his lamb before settling back into the high back of the chair.
Phedre’s next question caused the Cerul to purse his lips, eyes narrowing on his wife. He had a quick vision of tipping her head into the icing of the dessert in front of her, but truthfully he didn’t want her to get upset and leave him alone for the evening. Destan was afraid if Cordelia knew he was alone…
Lifting his wine glass to his lips, he drained it, immediately feeling the warmth from it spread through him. “First of all,” he began, reaching for the carafe to refill his glass, “do not by any means ever, ever call me that again. I should have sent her off for that alone.” He murmured those last words, an exasperated sigh leaving him. Trying to keep the mood light and airy between them, he even poured some more wine into Phedre’s glass. “Second of all, there’s… there’s nothing with me and horses. Is a man not allowed to dislike them without being questioned about it?” Destan laughed, scoffed, as though it was completely preposterous.
One arm resting in front of him on the table, Destan leaned across, and avoiding dipping his elbow in the cake he settled his hand on Phedre’s cheek. His thumb brushed over her warm skin, fingers brushing into her hair to push it back behind her ear. “Why don’t we leave any more discussion of her for the tomorrow? We’re through with entertaining her for the evening, she’s settled, she’ll be no bother to you the rest of the evening.” Pulling back, he retrieved his wine glass again, sipping at it before he stood from his chair.
The young man was smirking as he swiped his own finger through the chocolate icing, licking it off before he stopped beside Phedre. With a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, then to her neck, he lifted his lips to brush against her ear, “If we’re being truthful, this wasn’t the type of dessert I’d meant before.” Pulling himself into a standing position, he tilted his head to the side, a lopsided smile courtesy of his wine consumption dancing over his lips. “But I suppose I couldn’t blame you if you preferred the cake, that icing is rather good.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Tue Dec 20, 2016 12:36 am
by Simply
Phedre reclined back when he chastised her for calling him the nickname that Cordelia had shared with them. The strings of her heart twitched. “Absolutely not. There have been indications prior to their discussions downstairs about your…avoidance of horses. It is abnormal, Destan, to say the least.” Her blue eyes bore into his, the cake left slightly marred on the table between them. She held his eyes for a moment longer than was comfortable before sighing and drinking the last of the wine that filled her own glass. “But if you desire secrets, you may keep them.” A twist of her lips in a smirk as his hand came to her face.
“Yes…tomorrow, or never suits me just as well.” She closed her eyes as he withdrew but sensed something disturbing her dessert. “How dare you!” She whispered, her voice soft with the edge of false warning. Yet, he silenced her rather quickly as his lips brushed against the readily heating flesh of her neck. Phedre urged herself to be still, to be quiet, but her body rarely listened to her when he was around her. Damn his sorcery. A soft mewl escaped her lips and then all she was met with was cold air where the warmth of his mouth had been.
“Damn you. A waste of perfectly good cake.” She muttered, pushing herself from her chair. Her empty glass fell to the floor as she closed the distance that kept them apart. Phedre’s hand works quickly, steadily as they had become quite practiced in undoing his clothing as of late. She had his divested of his garments before shedding him own, guiding and pushing him towards the mattress.
Phedre couldn’t tell you the sequence of events but soon found herself tangled in the linens of his bed. Her hair was partially down, ragged and knotted. The heat emanating from her husband was a deterrent to leaving but with one appetite satiated, the other made itself alarmingly known. Quickly and not clothed, she slipped across the floor and retrieved the cake. Barely grabbing a fork, she hurried back to the bed and scurried under the covers. The plate rested on her body and she brought a bite to her lips.
“Mmm, want some?” She offered him, cleaning the fork. “Tell me something, Destan. Tell me something about you that I do not know.” His wife moved to set the plate on his chest. She rolled to her side, propping herself on one arm, using the other to finish off her dessert.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2016 1:29 am
by Dollface
Truthfully, Destan was trying his hardest to steer Phedre away from the topic of Cordelia and… really, anything that was discussed downstairs. Because of their most recent arguments it felt like it had been a while since she actually welcomed his advances – a while since she even wanted to be around him let alone allow him to kiss her. It was a relief, being able to sense the tension slipping away from her at his touch, a small smirk playing his lips with the sound that left her before he’d wandered away. He gave not another thought to the cake as Phedre quickly began to undress him, and his own hands moved to do away with her clothing as well.
Any other time he could control whether or not her own body heat affected him; now, he was at a lost, immediately warming to her touch. He let his guard down, not even thinking about it, giving himself over entirely to her. The entire day, their disagreements, completely fell to the wayside. He felt peaceful now, having her beside him, his breaths slowing, temperature dipping again, and he let his eyes close. It wasn’t long, though, before Phedre slipped away from him, a frown creasing his brow as he watched her cross the room. “Were you just thinking of that cake the entire time? Am I not enough for you?”
This teasing was so different, and Destan thought briefly how in the beginning she would promptly leave his chambers and return to her own after they’d had their way with each other. Her stays were more frequent, although it really did depend on why they ended up there in the first place.
Thankfully, he was lucky this time around and she quickly reappeared at his side with the plate chocolate cake in hand. Plucking the fork from her fingers, he contemplated her question as he took a bite of the cake himself. “I don’t even know where to start,” he stated with a chuckle, tipping his eyes towards her as he returned the fork. “I very seriously tried to run away from home when I was young, which meant that I left to my secret hiding spot in the garden of my parents’ estate.” Laughing again, he shifted to sit up more, his back against the headboard, an arm looping behind Phedre. “It’s no exaggeration when I say Brunien was just about as horrible then as he is now, although maybe on a smaller scale… So I’m sure it was something he’d done to make me want to leave. At that age, though, I didn’t realize he was jealous of the fact that I’m just a much better bender.”
His familiar grin appeared as he took the fork again, indulging in one more bite of the chocolate cake. “In any case, I gave myself away when I tried to steal food out of the kitchens. I wasn’t very good at being elusive then.” In time, he learned of course, because he was clearly still being at least a little elusive now. On one hand this was nice, being able to lie together and have just a standard conversation. No talk of business or their company, no vitriolic disagreement about something petty. On the other hand, it felt unnatural, like he wasn’t supposed to feel this comfortable, but he was trying to put those thoughts and feelings to bed.
Destan transferred the plate to settle on the bed, and he lay down on his side now to face her, head propped into the palm of his hand. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over the curves of her body for a moment, before his blue eyes met hers again, a hint of mischief clear in his features. “I believe you owe me a fact about yourself, now,” he stated, the words low, intent on keeping their secrets close.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Thu Dec 22, 2016 12:24 am
by Simply
“Can a woman not have a healthy appetite?” She grinned as the delicious flavors of the cake filled her mouth. The idea to flee the moment they were finished hadn’t crossed her mind this time. She was content to stay and bask in the cool that now began to press against her own cooling skin. The difference in their temperatures was the most noticeable at these moments, in the soft afterglow of their unions. He stole the dessert from her and she narrowed her eyes at him. Yet, a verbal protest did not leave her lips. The scowl merely turned to a smirk and her focus turned on his reply.
He wove the tale of his childhood and her attention remained on him, even as he continued to steal morsels of the cake right beneath her nose. “It is comforting to know that my husband is not a skilled thief and I still do not know if you could be considered elusive.” A smirk played he corners of her lips. “After all, was I not able to entrap you just now without so much as a word?” The space between them narrowed but she felt it widen slightly. Was this odd of her? Was it not something that he desired – a few spoken words without animosity after their intimacies? She closed her blue eyes briefly, so as not to draw attention to her inner discourses but still giving her a brief moment of comfort and respite.
Opening them, she caught the twinkle that danced in his eyes. A laugh escaped her lips, short and somewhat like a bark. Placing a hand against her mouth, she did not let notice pass that he was somewhat conspiratorial now. She pondered his request for a moment or too, grabbing the plate placed on the bed and rolling aside to lean down and let it drop a few centimeters to the floor. She made certain that no crumbs spilled over onto the carpets that rested beside his bed.
“I once wanted to bend water.” The words slipped out of her mouth as she rolled back over. She placed her golden head upon a pillow, looking up at him. She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head at the idiocy of her fact. “Not…permanently, but for about a fortnight I dreamed of waking up and being able to bend water to my will, like I do with fire. There was this girl, you see, in training sessions with us. She was a distant cousin on my mother’s side but she was a natural at every single movement.” A sigh left her, as though it still pained her to be less skilled than another. Aside from her temper, pride was one of Phedre’s greatest flaws. “My father complimented her continually when he would pass through the training chambers. Excellent form, Melinda. Bravo.” Her voice deepened in a poor imitation of her father’s tones.
“So for that time I just wanted to wake up and be able to defeat her by whatever means necessary and that meant possessing the skills that you do. It was foolish, you know. We are raised to despise you, to see your element as inherently weaker and useless. But oh,” Phedre paused as she rolled onto her back, drawing the sheet beneath her arms, “how I dream of putting out her flames with nothing more than a glass of water and a flick of my wrist.” A laughed escaped her as she raised her arm up, making the motion and flames shot from her fingertips before disappearing to smoke. “I quickly learned that was a childish fantasy. So I practiced and practiced and barely slept until I could best her in every single trial. It took a year to match her. And another six months to beat her.” Phedre lowered her arm back to rest on her belly. A blonde curl fell across her throat as she turned her face back towards him. “You may not know this, but I have to be the best at everything.” She smirked, knowing his previous interactions with her had made evident her vanities and ego.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Thu Dec 22, 2016 5:09 pm
by Dollface
“’Entrap me,’ is that what you’d call it?” He responded with a tilt of his brow, amusement in his words, “you all but tore me out of my clothes, Phedre. If anyone was trying to be elusive just then, it definitely wasn’t you.” Though, at this point, neither of them was very secretive when they wanted each other. Sometimes it felt like there was a constant tension, something pulling them towards one another and it was only a matter of time before they gave in.
It was Destan’s turn to listen then as Phedre recall something from her own childhood. He was amused at first to hear her admit that she actually wanted to be like him, to have the same power he did, for all the slander she’d ever made about being a water bender. That was a piece of information that he had to tuck away for future reference if he ever needed it. As Phedre continued, there was no ignoring how this moment in her life had truly shaped her into the woman before him. It didn’t surprise him in the least that she was so determined to outrank someone who had been better than her, but he was still shocked that at first she’d wanted to change something that was such a large part of who she was.
“Oh no, I had no idea that you were ever so intent on besting everyone at anything,” he replied with a smirk, lifting that blonde curl with a brush of his fingers to tuck it behind her ear. “I hate to think that you and Brunien might have actually gotten along at that point in your life. He’s always been insufferable towards me, but it’s not my fault that he wasn’t good, and didn’t care to train more.” Destan shrugged, running a hand through his own blonde hair before dropping his head to the pillow beside his wife.
His arm curled around her waist then and he nuzzled his nose into the curve of her neck, pressing a kiss against her warm skin. “I thought about wanting to bend fire once, maybe twice,” he paused, tilting his head back to get a glimpse of her. “Most certainly when my parents told me they were arranging my marriage to some strange girl from a warring family.” Destan grinned, laughing at his own joke then. “Now that I think of it, I’m surprised that you didn’t set everything ablaze the moment you found out yourself. To be married to a deplorable Cerul, and you didn’t even take out a village?”
At that point, the events of the entire day were beginning to catch up to him. Match that with Phedre’s body heat, and Destan found that his eyes were closing as he grew more comfortable as the quiet seconds ticked on. “Perhaps if you were a water bender, we’d have ended up here anyway. You know, fate or whatever you’d like to call it,” he mused in his half asleep state, drawing her closer against him.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sat Dec 24, 2016 12:39 am
by Simply
Phedre snorted. “I’m almost surprised they didn’t marry me off to him, had he been more…eligible in the eyes of my parents.” She recalled the meeting she had with his brother and while she maintained a general distain for all water elementalists, he has struck her as particularly disagreeable. Her eyes glittered when he confessed to desiring powers like her own. It soothed her to know that perhaps her secret was safely tucked away with his own. At his remark, she laughed again, rolling her eyes. “I burned a good number of priceless artifacts and heirlooms when I was told. Not immediately, of course. Only after the denial and shock wore off.” She smirked, recalled the charred remnants of some cherished carving from an ancient era in the Mediterranean. Her mother had been less than pleased with the pile of ashes where the wood had been.
“It did cross my mind to set your hair ablaze when I met you, though.” The sleep crept into his voice and she realized their post-dinner conversing was coming to an end. “And I don’t know if its fate but it was a cruel twist to the lives we thought we would lead, certainly. Neither of us wanted this but it is turning into something….tolerable.” The lightness of her tone conveyed the test of her final statement. She nestled down and against him. In response to the coolness of his skin, her own bumped itself up a degree or two and lulled her into sleep.
Phedre woke the next morning have slept through the entirety of the night without being disturbed once. Yet, the reason for her stretch and murmur of displeasure upon awakening was a rapping at the door. Blue eyes opened and she turned over to see her husband with the majority of the sheets kicked off of him. Oops. She must have been running a little warm throughout their slumber. The rapping occurred again.
“Yes, yes, what is it?” She called out after clearing her throat.
“My apologies, m’am, you were not in your chambers and I had brought your riding wear from the laundress.”
“Thank you Madeline. “ She reached over and pulled the blanket upwards to cover both herself and the man beside her. “You may bring them in and set them to the chair beside the door. Please inform the kitchen to begin preparing our breakfast. Perhaps inquire what our guests would like, as well.” Madeline did as the mistress of the house bid and once the door was closed again, Phedre slipped from beneath the covers.
“Our guests will be hungry, Destan and you cannot leave me to fend for myself again that she-devil.” She prodded him in the back as she began dressing herself – which was unusual but preferred due to their current status in the same room.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Sun Dec 25, 2016 11:23 pm
by Dollface
Not another word was said after they’d gotten settled, even after his own sort of confession and Phedre’s words that followed. Destan slept soundly throughout the night, as he usually did when he shared his bed with his wife, although he’d never admit it to her. She’d be far too smug upon learning that her presence actually was a benefit to him in more than one way.
The Cerul heard someone knock at the door, but didn’t budge, assuming that it was a butler coming to call him to breakfast and they’d enter anyway. Phedre moved beside him, and only then did he stir when she frantically threw blankets over him, chuckling under his breath as he turned over onto his back. Destan threw an arm over his eyes, breathing deeply as he listened to the short conversation with Madeline. “Let Cordelia fend for herself, let’s have our meal up here,” he mumbled, although he felt like his words fell to the wayside.
His eyes opened and he watched Phedre for a moment as she dressed herself for the day, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Sitting up with a stretch, he sauntered over towards her, hooked an arm about her waist and pulled her in for a lingering kiss. Destan managed to distract her from clothing herself for now, and instead pulled her towards the bath to prepare for breakfast.
Perhaps they took a little bit longer than they should have, but Destan thought they were still downstairs in the dining area at an acceptable time. Cordelia and Lachlan were already seated when the couple retreated downstairs, and Destan took his place at the head of the table. An array of breakfast foods were already displayed in front of them, and once Destan and Phedre were seated, Cordelia had let out a sigh of relief and began prepping her plate. “My, it’s about time, Destan, I’m positively famished after our very early meal last night.” The young woman gave him a pointed look – and received the same one from her brother for being so brash – before she cast her eyes towards Phedre.
Destan watched as Cordelia gave her a look, an eyebrow tilted and her lips just barely pursed. “What a nice little outfit you’ve got. I see you couldn’t get your own husband to join you out on the horses today, Phe?” Cordelia gave a little snort as she buttered a biscuit and tilted her eyes back to Destan. “Perhaps that’ll give you and I a chance to sit and do a little catching up, Destan, it’s been far too long.”
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Tue Jul 04, 2017 3:35 pm
by Simply
The time they spent in the bath was beyond relaxing and she lingered with him there longer than was decent, but it was their home and she despised Cordelia. That trollop deserved to know the reason why Destan was late joining them for breakfast. Phedre entered the dining hall shortly after her husband, brushing her fingers delicately against a red mark on her neck that was beginning to heal. If Cordelia’s eyes traveled to it due to her movement, then well…all the better
Blue eyes flitted over them, resting decidedly on Lachlan before the woman drew her attention. “Well, my husband’s appetite extends beyond just food. Our apologies for being tardy. We’ll make sure to inform the staff to go ahead and serve you in the future, rather than wait on us.” She placed strawberry preserves on her own, still-warm biscuit. She ignored the jab at Phedre’s ability to get Destan to come horseback riding, as though she knew that Phedre had already tried to coerce the truth out of him both emotionally and physically. He was adamant in his refusal to confess.
“It’s Phedre, Codelia.” She waved a hand as her other brought the biscuit to her lips. Taking a bite, she chewed on it thoughtfully, before swallowing and continuing to speak. “But if that’s too difficult for you to remember, I suppose Phe will be fine.” Her eyes lowered to her biscuit, before drawing the glass of water to her lips. She finished off her food and rose. “Lachlan, I believe we have some riding to do. I’d love to show you some of my favorite spots that I fear my husband will never get to enjoy.” Phedre leaned down and pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek. Her lips lingered near his ear. “Don’t have too much fun, save some energy for me…” She smirked as she led her new companion out to the barn.
They saddled the horses and took off. She showed him around the grounds that she had become familiar with over the beginning weeks of her relationship with Destan. “Do you know why Destan won’t ride?” She laughed as she asked. “I figure I would just be blunt about it, rather than try and coerce it out of you. He won’t tell me and I very much want to know if just for the mere fact that I can stop pestering him. “ She slowed the horse down to a slow walk, careening them back to the barn, though the ride would take some time and hopefully give her the chance to learn a bit of her husband from another person’s perspective.
“We have no been married that long…I want to know more about him. To…make the most of the arranged situation that we have entered in to.” Phedre shrugged, tucking back a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid.
Re: [r.krissieten!] If you want peace, prepare for war. [m]
Posted: Fri Jul 28, 2017 12:59 pm
by Dollface
Destan really wanted nothing to do with spending time alone with Cordelia, and he could only hope that he didn’t visibly stiffen at the woman’s suggestion. Truthfully, he didn’t trust her intentions while Lachlan and Phedre were away. Before he could deter her, however, Phedre was speaking to the other woman and he thought it best to keep tight lipped. For now, he shared a quick look with his old friend, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide while the girls went back and forth, and Destan prepared his plate. After his time in the bath with Phedre, he was starving and wasted no time in starting in on the fruit.
He was still working on his meal when Phedre rose from her chair, Lachlan following suit. “I could say the same for you, darling,” he murmured in response, a slow smirk on his lips as he watched her leave the room. There wasn’t any ignoring the look that Cordelia gave him – she narrowed her eyes, paused her movements before giving a small shake of her head.
“You couldn’t possibly tell me that you’re pleased with your… situation here, Destan. You forget I knew you so well. This life wasn’t one you ever wanted.” The young woman pushed her chair back, moving herself to sit in the chair closest to the Cerul now, where Phedre seated herself before. She lifted a hand, brushing the tips of her fingers lightly over the top of Destan’s that was resting on the table.
He watched her fingers first, then lifted her eyes to her. “I’ve got work to do today, Cordelia. There is much to explore in the house, on the grounds, so make yourself at home.” And with that, he withdrew from her touch, pushing his chair back from the table and rising to seclude himself in his study until Phedre returned with Lachlan. He could only hope they wouldn’t be too long.
Farther out on the grounds, Lachlan kept up with Phedre – struggled at times, even – and wondered how things were going back at the house between Cordelia and Destan. He knew what had happened with them in the past, had tried to deter his sister from coming along, but she had the tendency to get her way. The thought was enough to make his stomach tighten, but Phedre soon grabbed his attention as she slowed her horse. Lachlan followed suit, and with her question, he barked out a laugh as well.
“You’re a sly one, Phedre. You two will work well together,” he commented with a smirk, dragging his eyes in the direction of his friend’s wife. “I commend you for trying to pry his secrets out of me, but you must know that I can’t betray him like that, though I do understand where you’re coming from.” A sigh parted his lips as he cast his gaze over the lush green of the grass and trees before them.
“You’re right, though, you haven’t been married long, and you knew nothing of the other before that. Does it surprise you he’s a little secretive? I’m sure you’ve got some secrets yourself. And I’m good at keeping them, if you’d like to disclose any.” That grin of his returned to his features as he looked towards Phedre again, a twinkle in his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind my honesty, but I’m surprised how well this ‘arranged situation,’ as you call it, is working out so well. I certainly didn’t expect everything to be so pleasant when we arrived.”
