set your heart against the scales, keep your head above the tide

[dashing]

WHO: Ambassador Amsel & others
WHAT: a Herian catch-all
WHEN: through the month
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: closed and open starters to be added through the month, I have a hideous cold atm and am even more forgetful than usual, so if we have discussed something and I've neglected to follow up or set something up, please don't hesitate to contact me.

Comments

Cosima

[dashing]

( It is in the hours before the sun has truly crested. Not quite the inky black of night, especially not with the summer sun stretching the day longer, but certainly far from the warmth and brightness of the risen sun. The room is fresh, rather than chilly, and Herian is awake from habit rather than because the light or some sound has stirred her. The heavy curtains of her new quarters certainly see any hint of sunlight off, and it takes her a moment to orient herself in this still-new setting.

Finally having a bed made for two people is, admittedly, excellent. The quality of the mattress is beyond what she's experienced previously, beyond rare nights here and there in finer furnishings thanks to missions in noble estates, and the like.

The bedding has little to do with her hesitation as she wakes - that is prompted by the need to extricate herself from Cosima, which she begins to do carefully, so as not to disturb her sleep. It is less the concern of waking her, and more how nice it is to be curled up with her that sparks the hesitation, and she indulges herself by dropping a light kiss to Cosima's shoulder, before started to push up and away. )

[youwonscience]

[The sound Cosima makes as Herian moves to get up isn't a word so much as an inarticulate sound of protest. She catches at Herian's wrist without even opening her eyes.]

It's way too early, don't go.

[It's almost habitual, with them, but maybe a bit more frequent lately. It's not that Cosima doesn't trust Herian out of her sight -- Cosima didn't go to the tourney, after all -- but she's still more inclined than usual to want to keep her close. (And no more inclined than usual to get up before the sun.)]

[dashing]

Cosima.

( She twists her hand gently, so she can press a kiss to Cosima’s knuckles, leaning down a little closer and running her hand over Cosima’s ribs. )

I need to train. ( Though there is a faint trace of reluctance. Being close to Cosima is comforting, and she enjoys the feeling of their skin pressed together and limbs entwined. ) I can hurry back.

[youwonscience]

It's still dark out, [muffled by the pillows.] What if you stayed here now and then trained later.

[A new and daring suggestion.]

[dashing]

( Herian smiles, very fond, and traces a line that snakes down Cosima’s arm. )

I have to see to Diplomacy matters later, ( she reminds, a gentle counter.

Even so, lately she feels a more than usual want (need?) to give in to her own whims, indulge the desire to just stay here with Cosima.

She is still sitting on the bed, and makes herself stand, though she does not straighten up or try to strain Cosima’s hold on her. She just reaches for undergarments from the drawer, so she can somehow attempt getting dressed. Or, rather, she opens the drawer and instead of collecting clothes, she looks from the drawer back to Cosima. )

You are my lady, Cosima. Order me to stay.

[youwonscience]

It's too early to be a lady, [she says with emphasis, still half muffled by the pillow.] Or for you to be chivalrous. Come back to bed, I won't tell anyone, I promise...

[She gives Herian's arm a small tug, encouraging her to lie down again.]

[dashing]

Oh, you promise?

( With quiet laughter, Herian lean down to kiss Cosima’s hair, holds herself for a moment, before sliding down the rest of the way to be stretched along the bed again. Her voice is very quiet when she speaks. )

For you, I will gladly make an exception.

( The first time in a little shy of a year of involvement: Herian agreed to sleep in. A new sort of milestone, and she relishes the feeling of the sheets against her skin. )

Though I maintain that you are a Lady.

[youwonscience]

[Cosima is surprised but pleased, and provides immediate positive reinforcement in the guise of a lingering kiss on Herian's neck.]

Since you're staying, I'll let you have that one. I guess.

[]She tucks her head against Herian's shoulder.]

See, this is nice.

[dashing]

( She makes a happy sound, and her fingers trace down Cosima's back, fingertips following the curvature of muscles. Her other hand trails along Cosima's forearm. )

It is... tolerable.

( So casual. Whatever. She's had worse cuddles. But she hugs Cosima closer, and tips her head to try and press a kiss to her forehead. )

Mayhaps I will come around to it. ( Hard to get is not a good look on her. )

[youwonscience]

I'll convert you yet, [playful, for all she's still sleepy.]

What's so great out there that's not right here? It's soft, it's warm. Good company...

[She traces her fingers along Herian's arm.]

[dashing]

( A gasp, faux scandalised, as she rolls and holds herself over Cosima, one brow arched and her expression stern.

It lasts perhaps three seconds before she grins, and leans down to kiss Cosima’s cheek. )

The skies are moody, the people are displeased to be up so early, and nudity is generally frowned upon. It’s wondrous.

[youwonscience]

[She laughs against Herian's shoulder.]

See, I knew I wasn't missing anything. Mornings are way overrated. And now you have all this time to spend right here. Sleeping. Or not sleeping.

[dashing]

Not sleeping? That is terribly vague, Cosima.

( Leaning down, she lets her body press flush against Cosima, even as she keeps herself braced just a little, an eternal carefulness. They can still be indulged with closeness, and she lightly drags her teeth over the lobe of Cosima's ear, before trailing heated kisses down her neck. )

We could discuss the tactical value of dried foodstuffs. ( A super fun suggestion, as she pulls back very slightly. Honestly, Cosima probably could make her willing to embrace that topic. )

[youwonscience]

Purposely unspecific, [rather than vague.] Why, are dried foodstuffs on your mind?

[She brushes a hand over Herian's hip, pseudo-casual.]

[dashing]

( bam )