faderift | ( closed ) embrace like an avalanche

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( closed ) embrace like an avalanche

WHO: Lakshmi & Magni
WHAT: working with an ex with awkward, sometimes
WHEN: mumbles vaguely
WHERE: smithy
NOTES:

( The hours in the smithy are long, working iron into steel and steel to blades. She is hammering at something when the door opens, presently alone in her work, beating hammer to metal with a steady rhythm. Her skin seems almost to glow in the light from the forge, and her skin runs with sweat from the heat of it. Such a heat might be oppressive to a good many, and that she could hardly fault them for.

The door opening hardly means inherently that someone needs her attention, and so she pays it little mind, stepping to the bellows to make the fire burn more fiercely, so that the blade she is presently working on can be re-heated once more, as she continues to progress with it. It was not that she lacked for work generally speaking, but with a battle lurching closer, many more blades and weapons needed making.

It's when she is collecting up the blade that she looks towards the door, and stops.

Ah. )

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No!

( It could be a yelp of protest about the tickling (although she'd never admit it) or it could just be a very indignant denial that even lowlanders could be so moronic as to call any Avvar a princess.

Should you kneel before a princess, she might say, and part of her instinctually wishes to surge up, throw her off balance and sabotage this mockery, Lakshmi's general relentlessness. (She likes her relentlessness, in truth.) Instead she tries to squirm away from the tickling hand (very dignified, very proud Avvar) )

Are you a fool lowlander, then?

I'm sure you would like me to be, telling me your hold beast is a duck. [ She's breathless, sharply, brightly, breathless. The smile beaming on her face, unrestrained by the expectations about herself. Her hand braces as she tries to squirm, wriggle, shove back.

It doesn't quite work - and this is cheating. But there is a comfort to knowing, to being able to do something she has had to forcibly keep back more than once in Magni's presence. To being herself and nothing less than that. As when Magni arches up to dodge her fingers, she snaps her hand in the rest of the way, to wrap both her arms around her back.

To pull Magni up, the whole way, so that she was sitting up, and Lakshmi was half in her lap, half underneath it. Their legs tangled and laughing, still. ]

Perhaps there is one other thing I neglected to mention about the boons of the blackwater.

[ she is far stronger than she looks. ]

( A whumph of air escapes her as she's hauled up, surprised, looking at Lakshmi with mouth slightly open. She is not a light person, dense and muscular, and Lakshmi just lifted her as though it were nothing.

One brow arches very slightly. )

Of course you only mention it now.

( Think of the fun that could have been had, Rani. )

[ Right, she chuckles, a little more stiffly at just what Magni is implying. Any other time, she might counter back as easily, why don't we make up for lost time? the pointed raise of her eyebrow.

But right now? ]

Anyone else, I might have been able to keep it secret, but with you?

[ Lakshmi certainly trains, and she trains harder than most. Every bit of her a warrior. A great many things she could do that most people could not, even without the blackwater. Whether it was hauling her whole body up by only her arms and balancing on just their strength. Or because able to move faster without error.

But being able to haul Magni about was a feat that never could go unnoticed. ] That might have given the game away.

( Magni hums, thoughtful, enjoying that quiet laughter but detecting— something else in it. The loss of some of the flirtatious ease they'd had before. And perhaps that is for the best, that Lakshmi is trying to maintain that distance instead of being so lighthearted that Magni gives up on her determination that Lakshmi prove her sincerity. Well enough that they care for one another, hold each other in such affection, but it was all too easy for people to care for each other and still do each other injury or inflict betrayals without realising.

This was better, now. She had a choice. She needed to think carefully on it. Steady, child of the mountains as she was.

She leans lets her breathing settle, leans forward just enough to rest her forehead to Lakshmi's. ) I hope the future holds less secrecy for us.

( Resists the urge to kiss her forehead, and leans back some more. Calmer, now. Although: ) The Avvar don't have princesses. I have no claim to becoming the next Thane.

( Or interest, but perhaps that goes without saying. ) When Eskil is Thane, he is not my father. ( Not in the sense of using that position for his daughter's gain, specifically, not in the sense of softening decisions made concerning her because she is his child. Hold before blood, as it must be, and as she is glad for. ) Then he acts for Talonhold, as do we all.

[ Lakshmi eases away, her hands settling to Magni's shoulders and takes her perch there. Close, comfortingly close, direct in the way she ever is but... not too much, too forward, too inclined to overstep despite their proximity. ] I hope so as well.

[ All teasing aside, she does listen, fingers drawing an idle pattern on Magni's arm. ] I see. Do they in time, let another become Thane, do they step down willingly? Or is death required?

( She tilts her head. That's a question and a half, and there are drawn out moments of silence before Magni starts to form her reply. It is... strange, almost, to speak of the Avvar, her home, their ways. No one really asks. No one takes interest. Sometimes she prefers it so, other times she appreciates that they are in a war and people have much to think of, and other times it grates at her, that so much interest is made of some, but the Avvar could be gladly forgotten.

Slowly, navigating the words as she speaks them and needing to take her time to pick out what to say next, thinking how to explain this and lamenting the wordiness of it even as she appreciates the need to share understanding. Lakshmi's fingers following invisible patterns is soothing, though. )

The Thane is counselled by our Augur, and acts for the good of the Hold. If they are not longer... quick of the mind, they cannot lead. A good Thane knows to recognise their time is past, but... they are proud. They embrace death in combat rather than growing old and soft. If there is a successor to it deemed worthy in strength and cleverness, then their final trial by will be a battle to the death. If they are not a good Thane? Then they will be challenged soon enough.

( Phew. That was a lot of words. )

[ She nods, as Magni finishes. Her fingers stop their pattern - tap, once, twice. Then smooth again. For once, it's her that falls into a long silence as she thinks on it, contemplates what that might mean for Magni herself, what it might mean to even be an Avvar living under such a life.

It is different, and is not so, again. ]

To value use, then. [ She appreciates it, in its way, she was no Rajput after all to speak endlessly long upon honour. Rather, she was a daughter of a Maratha and once just a member of their court, and her own leanings had ever been for hard work. The shame she had found, was in the inability to work earnestly. ] It must be... difficult to be without his guidance then, here, in the Inquisition.

( Her jaw clenches - unusual, telling. )

I serve my Hold by being here and by fighting to stop Corypheus.

( A look down, then. It is hard, frankly. It sucks. )

[ That... That will not do. Her hand drops below Magni's chin, curving around her jaw to gently push her face up so Lakshmi may look at her, properly, flicking between her eyes. A fixed little mark in her brow from concentrating. ]

You're homesick.

[ Like a doctor pronouncing a verdict - like she knows - or perhaps more correctly. Understands, better than most, what it is to be cut off from something that is so much of yourself. ]

( She makes a monosyllabic response that sounds like a denial. What means, though, is very much yes. Lakshmi may have tilted her chin up, but her gaze remains stubbornly lowered.

Months ago she had told Lakshmi that she did miss her home, but it was in the context of assuring Lakshmi she knew that she must miss her home, when Magni had the option of returning, and Lakshmi was cut off entirely. Returning home from travelling with Varmas as muscle and to train was different from returning home when she had not received the order to return home felt —

it was impossible. )

[ She keeps her hands there, cupped under her jaw. Smoothing against her cheek, soft for such a harsh woman who did such hard, thankless work. Whose eyes saw much but mouth said little. ]

The first chance you have, you take it. I will put away the extra coin for it needs be.

( Leaning into the contact is all too tempting, comfort that she should resist beckoning to her. With the offer, though, her eyes open and gaze flickers to Lakshmi. Confused, uncertain, grateful, torn, even as she shakes her head. )

I’ve received no word to return.

Not even to deliver a report? Surely those are best done in person?

[ That Magni is here to look after her own people neither upsets nor surprises Lakshmi particularly. Rather she keeps her words even, pressing on. Anything, anything to change that look on her face. ]

Perhaps a festival, that it would not seem strange for you to go back for?

( The words make sense; she can see the reason in them.

Still, her smile turns wry. )

Are you so keen to see me gone, Manikarnika?

I would see you have the happiness you can have while it is there. We are at war and a long one.

[ Her hands lift, moving to brush her hair away from her face, smoothing behind her ears. Affection she has not earned, but that she cannot help but give. Over this, especially, over this. ]

You should take the opportunity when it comes.

( Oh, but why could Lakshmi not have thought so scant weeks ago? Why was taking opportunities for happiness only a thing that can be done for others? Why did they have to wade through brambles before they reaches this moment?

Was this a sign their moment had passed? Was it an indication that it was a hope to hold onto, and that the decision she wants to make is truly the wise one? Was there a wise choice, a right one, in such a strange and convoluted circumstance?

She looks at Lakshmi, and her breath falls from her heavily with the small, tender gesture. Leaning forward, then, hand resting at Lakshmi's neck, she leans forward to kiss her again. Less brief than before, less for now, more please, something, now.

You should take the opportunity when it comes, after all. )

[ Oh.

Her hands paused, framing either side of her face, laced by fingertips into her hair. Frozen like she... never was. Wasn't that something? Because yes she was often a filled woman, as much as things she was, as with things she had been, as much as things she would be. That many of those things, that worries, worries so deeply. Please, do not build your home in me, this body is filled with bones and burning thing.

But there is a clarity to how Magni kisses her. A silence, and it all goes. Like letting the blackwater fill her breath. All of time, that slipped away.

That when she reemerged from it, her hands were slipping further back into her hair, rolling their bodies closely. Her knees shifting to nudging in against her hips, her arms curving around her shoulder, that soft sound of their breath muffled against skin, their kissing in a wet part of lips, the rustle of fabric under them as they shifted. ]

( It's a relief, though some part of her feels—

guilty. Regret, because there is reason in their discussion and their decisions, and she wanted to stand by them. It would be right to stand by them, but it feel right to draw Lakshmi closer and bite down on her lip. It feels right to encourage her onto her lap and it is a relief to be wanted in a moment where she feels so utterly ragged, as she tilts her head, invites (needs) Lakshmi to deepen the kiss, to push them forward. To want this as Magni does, really, to need it.

Her hands, rough and callused, are better versed in working iron into steel than in holding people close, but know the curve of Lakshmi's back and her hips. They are steady and certain despite her own unsteadiness, her own uncertainty, and they rest just where they might slip under shirt and find warmth and trail over bare skin. )

[ Out of instinct, she tips her back, flat onto the bed. Leaning over her, crowding her in. Tipping herself in like a river into the deep lake. Cradled against the curve of her body. Blocking a warm shape between them. Rolling over her body as she kisses her to a staccato rhythm. Dragging against her, panting softly against her mouth. Squirming back into her hands, arching into the pressure of her fingertips. That slippery feeling that trickles and bubbles. The tip of her tongue on her lip, her fingers tangled in her hair.

Then... she pulls back. Chest rising and falling with her quick breathes. Her hands unwinding to plant either side of her head, pushing her weight onto her knees. ]

We... we should stop. [ We must. ] I shouldn't... demand things from you.

[ Because Magni had kissed her, and Lakshmi - pushed too much, always too much. Out of your eyes, Rani, always too much in your eyes. Gingerly, before Magni can object (and she can give in) she rolls away from her. Coming to set on the edge of the bed, pressing her face into her hands to rub over herself, the push her hands back through her hair. ]

( Her nails were beginning a slow drag as far up Lakshmi's back as they could reach with the obstruction of fabric, a pleading, encouraging sound escaping her as Lakshmi's fingers tightened in her hair. And then—

Lakshmi is sensible, controlled. Draws back and moves away.

For what feels like a horribly long time, she stays lying there. Feels her face fall, schools it back to something less crestfallen. A lot of conflicting things - relief that Lakshmi was sensible, embarrassment at herself, the wave of logic and reason reminding her that was very selfish and very stupid. Where is your reason?

Her mouth closes, lips feeling dry, and she swallows painfully past a throat that feels hot and dry. )

I kissed you.

( Quietly, apologetically. Lakshmi demanded nothing. ) I'm sorry.

( Genuinely, and it rings out in her voice. Mortification accompanying it, but mostly just sincerity and sorrow. They had established a plan, and she'd cast it aside. )

[ she chuckles, a brief respite, an excuse to let air into her lungs and to let her head clear from the after haze of warmth and touch.

It only sort of works. ]

Be sorry for a hundred things, Magni, but I don't think I could bare it if you were sorry for kissing me.

[ which is - saying too much. When she knows it's a torment. That Magni should make a sensible choice to leave her. To take only her satisfaction over their time together and go. ]

( A little huff of breath, echoing Lakshmi's amusement, as she reaches to her without looking, hoping that Manu will take her hand. Her mouth quirks very slightly, not quite a smile - she couldn't begin to bring herself to, even deliberately. )

Sorry only if I hurt you.

( Because Lakshmi matters, is precious, essential. )

I'm not good at these... things.

And I, you. [ It isn't even a hesitation, reaching back for her. The brush that as ever, she turns back, and rather it, limit it, because this might -

It isn't worth considering what it might and might not be. Only what is. She falls back, to join Magni lying on the bed. Not looking at her, but draping against her stomach. A comfort snatched up in a mild, that melt away of pretense and position and all else that becomes Rani, Lakshmi.

Settled, she curls Magni's arm around her waist to rest on her belly. ]

Then we are well matched.

( Despite all this absurdity, this pain, a little smile flickers at the corner of her mouth, and she gently wiggles her fingers against Lakshmi's belly, a brief tickle, before laying her hand flat. )

I—

( A struggling sound, a huff of breath. )

You— deserve someone who is, ( She gestures to her throat and her mouth, before remembering Lakshmi isn't looking, ) an able speaker.

( closed ) embrace like an avalanche

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