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.
[ 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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[ 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.