Topic: The Fates of Fortune
She looked back up into his eyes, seeing them for a moment as she had in her dream, pale and lifeless. Unless he gets his way… but not at my hand Nyx, sina amin vesta lle…
The light flooded back into his eyes for her and she offered a small smile before a kiss.
“We have a lot to do…” she whispered finally. “I can mend your coat if you get it for me… and my dress…” The light sparking in her eyes again as she recalled the previous night. “We got a little carried away I think.”
“Don’t worry about it. Taellyn was working on a new coat for me… might be able to pick something up for you as well, something a bit nicer than that bit of burlap.”
“You seem to like what is under that burlap just fine… and it serves its purpose. You had no idea what was hiding under it at first did you? Would you like all of Drasnia to be aware of this body?” A sultry little smile passed her lips as she pulled herself out from under his cloak and let his very much alive eyes devour the sight.
“I thought you said we had things to do…” He leaned in with a growl.
“We do…” flashing a grin she pushed him back.
“Come love, you’ve followed me for years you knew that -“ her words cut off though as he rose from her side and turned his back to her.
“Nyx… how long have you followed me?”
The mith’ganni hesitated for an instant, an almost sheepish smile flitting across his lips when she posed that question. He knew, of course, that, at some point, he would have to tell her everything – how many years it had been that he had been her shadow, how many of her victims had become his, and how many of those who had victimized her had, also, died at his hands – but, for whatever reason, Nyx hadn’t been exactly prepared to answer that particular query just now… “Ten… perhaps fifteen years,” he murmured, finally, “possibly longer…”
“When did you have this done?” the casual banter left her voice as it dropped to a serious whisper. Fingertips graced the small of his back then tucked into the waist band of his pants pulling him back. When he stopped his retreat her fingers stretched across his skin, tracing the slightly raised red lines that tangled along the base of his spine.
Have what done? A puzzled expression fell across his features as he glanced back, his eyes first finding hers and then dropping to try and see whatever it was she was referring to… The positioning of whatever it was over the base of his spine would have made it nearly impossible for him to see even if Cay’s fingers hadn’t been tracing over it…he felt the subtly raised skin beneath her fingertips as she traced over it, became suddenly aware of the mildly irritating tingle of the flesh beneath (a sensation much like a scrape or friction burn might leave behind), and caught fleeting glimpses of twisting, crimson lines in the periphery of his vision but he couldn’t quite twist his head around far enough to make out the entirety of the design…
“I know these lines… the roots of my tree…”
Your tree? On my back? “Mani?” His own fingers, now, reached back and sought out the spot on his back where Cay’s were wandering and felt the pattern that had, apparently, etched itself into his skin sometime in the past day, “Manke tanya tuula?”
Her voice barely filled the space between them. “Nyx?”
“Amin n’sinta, Cayrimsa,” he replied, the puzzlement displayed on his expression finding its way into his voice as his fingers fell away from his back. Nyx found one of his kukri amidst the tangle of discarded clothing, slid it from its sheathe and, using his pants-leg, quickly burnished away a few streaks of weapon black that still clung to the blade before holding the thing behind his back and angling it so that he might catch a glimpse of what was apparently a tattoo reflected in the steel. When he managed to tilt the blade properly and, as a result, saw the design in its entirety, his eyes widened all the more and he looked even more confused… As Cay had just indicated, the artful tangle of red lines were so close in appearance to the roots of the tree that graced the tapestry over her bed that they looked like she could have woven them into his skin herself… For the flickering of an instant, he was wont to accuse her of doing exactly that – branding him in the night, somehow… with her magic, perhaps – but, he was just as quick to dismiss the thought… She had slept the night through, after all, and, had she woken even when Nyx himself had been lost in the reverie, she would have stirred him, as well…
“Ten… fifteen?” she muttered under her breath but the thoughts were lost as she watched him with just as confused a look as her own examine his back with the reflection in his blade.
“What do you mean you don’t know? That’s my tree Nyx. And I would like to know what it is doing on your back.” She leaned back in to touch it, letting her fingers trail slightly up his spine where the flesh was not marked.
“I mean just that, Cay,” Nyx retorted, his eyes ticking from where they studied the tattoo reflected in his blade to the amber orbs that flashed up at him when she demanded an explanation, “I do not know where that might have come from nor do I know when it may have appeared there… I have never even entertained the notion of a tattoo… Had I any idea where it came from, melamin, I would tell you.”
Simultaneously, their gazes abandoned the point where they had recently met and returned to their individual scrutiny of the blood-hued etching, his eyes watching as her fingers traced curiously over the lines and then, as if sketching out where the trunk of that tree should issue upwards from the roots, proceeded a bit higher along his spine… The witch gasped when the tattoo did, in fact, follow the line suggested by her finger and the knot-work of the roots produced the beginnings of the tree’s trunk… The assassin, too, was rather surprised when, provoked by her touch, the tattoo expanded – his moon-colored eyes widened and one brow spiked a bit higher – but, when it happened, Nyx couldn’t help but let an almost amused grin curl the corners of his mouth… He had felt the thing grow, as well as seen it, and, the sensation was very much unlike what he would have imagined it should have been. Rather than the sensation of needles pricking deep into his flesh and carving an extension of the design into his skin that he might have expected there was, instead, a warm, soothing (and, oddly, somewhat empowering) buzz shot through not just the spot where the tattoo had just grown but his entire being… it was a feeling very similar to that which surged through him when he called upon the limited magic to which he had access…
“Nyx… I swear… I’m not doing that,” Cay protested, her hand balling into a fist as it flew away from the new streak of scarlet, “Not on purpose. I’ve never done anything like that; I’ve always used the Bedine coin… I…” Her mouth went dry and her eyes moved from his back to the ruined coat on the floor, staring down into the dark holes of Prien’s eyes.
Things are more complicated than you had thought… the voice called in her head.
Slowly she tore her eyes from Prien’s and brought them up to Nyx, only to find him smiling.
…The mith’ganni’s smile brightened just a bit and, as he turned to face her again, he set the kukri he had been using as a mirror aside and took hold of the hand she had just withdrawn. “I think, perhaps, you are, a’melamin,” he purred as his fingers attempted to caress the tension from her fist, “even if it is unintentional…” his other hand reached out to cup her chin and lift her eyes to his, again… “You are meant for me, Cayrimsa, and I for you… This, I think, does nothing but prove what we both have denied all this time…”
This is all too much… too soon.
Her bright amber eyes simply looked up into his. Under his caress her fingers trembled slightly.
How can you be pleased, Nyx? How!? That’s my tree! Growing on your back… and he knows, and he’s unhappy about it. Nyx we’ve upset your God. Yesterday I was alone. Alone… perhaps you walked in my shadow, but I did not know… I worried about me and only me. Now this. The confessions, the passion (and by the Gods despite that it broke every principle I have ever lived by that alone has been worth it, for truly I was not complete until yesterday afternoon, and if fate is so wicked as to deem this should not last I shall always cherish that memory), the contract, the dream… and now my tree… I want this. I do. But things have moved so quickly… My life has become filled with you so quickly it hurts.
Slowly she nodded to him, praying that her eyes did not reveal her thoughts. “I suppose…”
I need to do something, I’ll go insane if I keep thinking like this…
“We have a long day though… we should get moving.” Quietly spoken as she pulled her hand from his and without waiting for a response moved out of his reach and began to get dressed.
Posted on 2010-04-21 at 15:15:05.
Edited on 2010-04-21 at 15:17:36 by Merideth