WHO: Loki, Erik, Adrasteia & y'all WHAT: Catch-all WHEN: Late Solace / Early August WHERE: Kirkwall NOTES: Language warning for Erik, otherwise nothing yet. Open starters in comments.
[ The press of lips to palm alone would have been enough to make her feel as if she had permission to be closer; the arm around her waist asks her to be, and she answers with the brief press of her cheek to his before stepping in to lay her head against his chest next to her hand. ]
When I met him, both of us were so.
[ Arrogant, flippant, cruel. Holding hurts so deep their hearts had numbed to keep on beating. So full of anger and of fear there’d been no room for love.
But like a flower growing in the road amidst the stones, somehow taking root and somehow blooming, they had loved. Had made each other into things that could; an alchemy more precious than mere gold.
Just as she wishes Byerly to understand that without her husband they could not have become as they are, she will be grateful for the ones who pulled him open, let him love.
She thinks she would have shattered on him cruel. ]
What do these things mean to you; an oath, a heart?
[ She does not think she could refuse him, freely given. She does not know if she is safe to give things to. ]
[ Loki takes a deep breath, in and out through his nose, as he thinks through his answer to her question. Traces runes of protection with his fingertips along the back of her bodice.
He is glad he's not who he used to be. He would have thrived in hurting her to avoid being hurt, just because he could. Just because she cared.
Just because he didn't think himself worthy of that. ]
As you've promised I won't be alone I would offer you the same, with my vow; to be by your side, to align myself with that which you have aligned yourself. To provide assistance and advice as you might need it. To be your champion, should a champion be needed or required.
To be your friend as best I can.
My mind, my daggers, my magic: all would be at your disposal.
With my heart... [ He sighs and places his chin on the top of her head, breathing in her perfume and closing his eyes. ] I would share your bed if you would have me, and be honest about whatever or whomever else I'm up to.
I don't know what all it means, to love someone. I've loved so few, so often with thorns and barbs embedded in my feelings. But I will do my best to be fair to you. To not hurt you.
[ There is quiet for a little, as she weighs what he has offered; what she can take and how.
Eventually a slow nod. ]
I would have your word, so we be equal in it. There is nothing I would take without return.
For my bed, I—
[ A long breath. ]
I cannot lie with you yet. Not until you know your heart better. Until I know mine. But when you are free to leave this island there is still a place in my bed for you, if you would be held, [ a little huff of mirth comes from her nose, is in her voice, ] and I shall not be piquish if you find your pleasures elsewhere. I shall never be so.
[ She had not begrudged her husband anything; had known what he was when she had taken him. Curious, with a vast array of whims and fancies he was given to indulging without any thought for it. Neither had he begrudged her hers, although as time had passed they had found themselves seeking little but each other.
For the last, a little sigh. A smooth of her hand on the cloth over his heart, and a tone more somber. ]
It may be that you will hurt me, unwitting. It may be that I will hurt you so. For a certainty I will hurt myself sometimes, but I promise I shall tell you which is which, and to hear you if the wounding hand is mine.
[ It's that simple, for Loki. He stands to lose very little as far as he can tell by being her friend, her advisor.
As for the rest he sighs a little. He wishes he knew his heart now; he also wishes he could leave the island now, but on both of those terms he'll just have to be patient. Quite the exercise, that.
He doubts he'll be any less interested in Alexandrie given time, though. ] Considering that I currently sleep in a room with a variety of staff for the Gallows, I don't blame you.
[ He moves to kiss her forehead. Something in his chest feels relieved in knowing that she won't be upset if he stumbles into bed with someone else; Loki isn't certain he's built for a strict monogamy in the first place. ]
I will still strive not to hurt you. [ He says earnestly, quietly. ] And I would like it if you tried not to harm yourself either but I know that is not always easily done.
[ A smile for the yes, for the smoothing of her hair, an attempt to turn her face and catch his fingers with her lips, and then her brightness fades a little into sorrow— as if a cloud passes across her face. ]
I will not hurt myself a-purpose.
[ Her hand is soft when she touches his cheek, gentle as she strokes a thumb across it. ]
It is only that I know there will be times when there is a certain light, or a certain look, or a certain way you stand. A way you breathe in sleep or how your hair falls in the morning.
[ A pause, then soft and simply said: ]
I grieve for him.
I do not know if I am wife or widow, and I grieve. I will not weep always, but I will weep, and I will not try to make it cease before its time.
[ Another stroke of her thumb, and Alexandrie lets her hand fall as the cloud passes and her eyes are light again. ]
For the wait, it has little to do with your current room, and much to do with wishing to offer Byerly a space that is his. Under other circumstances you will find me undaunted by the prospect of sleeping in meaner environs, populous as they may be, should it also mean that sleep is in your arms.
[ The smile is back, beaming and impish with no trace of sorrow this time. ]
But I would not choose it given the option, and so along with your freedom— [ she walks her fingers up Loki’s chest as she speaks, her tone one that suggests she is tempting him with something else entirely— ] I promise you silk and fine linen, feather bedding, space to stretch into, quiet mornings that begin at civilized hours, and—
[ So. It is not that she will hurt herself, but the combination of memory and Loki and not knowing the fate of her husband that will cause her to suffer. He can understand that, and so he nods, once. Her reasons for waiting on inviting him to her bed, even just for touch, also make sense to him; the Ambassador is important to Alexandrie.
She walks her fingers up his chest and he can't help but smile, eyes twinkling. ] All of that sounds excellent, honestly.[ He's had a difficult time with when the other occupants of the room he's in wake for the day. More than once he's sent a pillow or three flying across the room in a fit of pique at the earliness of the hour, the level of noise from workers chattering amongst one another before the sun is even properly up. ]
It is only a few more weeks. [ This is mostly to remind himself, as opposed to reassuring her; he doesn't think Alexandrie needs it, honestly. ] Though I feel I must warn you, I haven't slept with anyone in my arms for some time.
[ He's not sure how well it'll go or if he'll have as much trouble sleeping in her bed as he does here. ]
The look on Alexandrie’s face suggests she’d forgotten how long the mandatory stay in the Gallows was. (Or, more likely, it hadn’t affected her personally until now.)
There’s a temptation to bury her face in his chest and indulge in a brief sulk— so she does. Only briefly. Then she pulls back and smiles with her own twinkle. ]
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When I met him, both of us were so.
[ Arrogant, flippant, cruel. Holding hurts so deep their hearts had numbed to keep on beating. So full of anger and of fear there’d been no room for love.
But like a flower growing in the road amidst the stones, somehow taking root and somehow blooming, they had loved. Had made each other into things that could; an alchemy more precious than mere gold.
Just as she wishes Byerly to understand that without her husband they could not have become as they are, she will be grateful for the ones who pulled him open, let him love.
She thinks she would have shattered on him cruel. ]
What do these things mean to you; an oath, a heart?
[ She does not think she could refuse him, freely given. She does not know if she is safe to give things to. ]
no subject
He is glad he's not who he used to be. He would have thrived in hurting her to avoid being hurt, just because he could. Just because she cared.
Just because he didn't think himself worthy of that. ]
As you've promised I won't be alone I would offer you the same, with my vow; to be by your side, to align myself with that which you have aligned yourself. To provide assistance and advice as you might need it. To be your champion, should a champion be needed or required.
To be your friend as best I can.
My mind, my daggers, my magic: all would be at your disposal.
With my heart... [ He sighs and places his chin on the top of her head, breathing in her perfume and closing his eyes. ] I would share your bed if you would have me, and be honest about whatever or whomever else I'm up to.
I don't know what all it means, to love someone. I've loved so few, so often with thorns and barbs embedded in my feelings. But I will do my best to be fair to you. To not hurt you.
no subject
Eventually a slow nod. ]
I would have your word, so we be equal in it. There is nothing I would take without return.
For my bed, I—
[ A long breath. ]
I cannot lie with you yet. Not until you know your heart better. Until I know mine. But when you are free to leave this island there is still a place in my bed for you, if you would be held, [ a little huff of mirth comes from her nose, is in her voice, ] and I shall not be piquish if you find your pleasures elsewhere. I shall never be so.
[ She had not begrudged her husband anything; had known what he was when she had taken him. Curious, with a vast array of whims and fancies he was given to indulging without any thought for it. Neither had he begrudged her hers, although as time had passed they had found themselves seeking little but each other.
For the last, a little sigh. A smooth of her hand on the cloth over his heart, and a tone more somber. ]
It may be that you will hurt me, unwitting. It may be that I will hurt you so. For a certainty I will hurt myself sometimes, but I promise I shall tell you which is which, and to hear you if the wounding hand is mine.
[ And she looks up, eyes full of question: Yes? ]
no subject
[ It's that simple, for Loki. He stands to lose very little as far as he can tell by being her friend, her advisor.
As for the rest he sighs a little. He wishes he knew his heart now; he also wishes he could leave the island now, but on both of those terms he'll just have to be patient. Quite the exercise, that.
He doubts he'll be any less interested in Alexandrie given time, though. ] Considering that I currently sleep in a room with a variety of staff for the Gallows, I don't blame you.
[ He moves to kiss her forehead. Something in his chest feels relieved in knowing that she won't be upset if he stumbles into bed with someone else; Loki isn't certain he's built for a strict monogamy in the first place. ]
I will still strive not to hurt you. [ He says earnestly, quietly. ] And I would like it if you tried not to harm yourself either but I know that is not always easily done.
[ Loki smooths some of her hair from her face. ]
I will gladly be held.
[ So. Yes. ]
no subject
I will not hurt myself a-purpose.
[ Her hand is soft when she touches his cheek, gentle as she strokes a thumb across it. ]
It is only that I know there will be times when there is a certain light, or a certain look, or a certain way you stand. A way you breathe in sleep or how your hair falls in the morning.
[ A pause, then soft and simply said: ]
I grieve for him.
I do not know if I am wife or widow, and I grieve. I will not weep always, but I will weep, and I will not try to make it cease before its time.
[ Another stroke of her thumb, and Alexandrie lets her hand fall as the cloud passes and her eyes are light again. ]
For the wait, it has little to do with your current room, and much to do with wishing to offer Byerly a space that is his. Under other circumstances you will find me undaunted by the prospect of sleeping in meaner environs, populous as they may be, should it also mean that sleep is in your arms.
[ The smile is back, beaming and impish with no trace of sorrow this time. ]
But I would not choose it given the option, and so along with your freedom— [ she walks her fingers up Loki’s chest as she speaks, her tone one that suggests she is tempting him with something else entirely— ] I promise you silk and fine linen, feather bedding, space to stretch into, quiet mornings that begin at civilized hours, and—
[ whispered— ]
privacy.
no subject
She walks her fingers up his chest and he can't help but smile, eyes twinkling. ] All of that sounds excellent, honestly.[ He's had a difficult time with when the other occupants of the room he's in wake for the day. More than once he's sent a pillow or three flying across the room in a fit of pique at the earliness of the hour, the level of noise from workers chattering amongst one another before the sun is even properly up. ]
It is only a few more weeks. [ This is mostly to remind himself, as opposed to reassuring her; he doesn't think Alexandrie needs it, honestly. ] Though I feel I must warn you, I haven't slept with anyone in my arms for some time.
[ He's not sure how well it'll go or if he'll have as much trouble sleeping in her bed as he does here. ]
no subject
weeks.
The look on Alexandrie’s face suggests she’d forgotten how long the mandatory stay in the Gallows was. (Or, more likely, it hadn’t affected her personally until now.)
There’s a temptation to bury her face in his chest and indulge in a brief sulk— so she does. Only briefly. Then she pulls back and smiles with her own twinkle. ]
I shall be glad to help you practice, then.