Commander of the Immortal Army
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Jan 6, 2018 5:22:49 GMT
His skin was clouded with streaks of ash, his entire appearance much more disheveled than was his typical. Everything had happened so fast. From the time he had arrived, to when her home had been eaten away by another fire, it hadn’t even been an hour. He might as well have arrived to her body splayed out, bloodied, staring at the sky – dead already… for all the used he’d been.
The soft, raspy grumble of the infant in the crook of his arm came as a sort of protest to the turbulent thoughts.
Following the inferno, he’d taken off as quickly as seemed safe for the child. He’d given the paint her rein, merely urging her along as he seemed to allow her to decide their direction. They had wandered like that for nearly an hour, his mind turning over the events, considering Rhea’s morose looks as they’d spoken of Faron, her comments about Solara, the sounds of the banging boards, the choking smoke, the feeling of her fierce hug and her hair on his nose, and the last scene. The last one, it was burned into his brain as the bullseye of a target: the men circled over her as crows around carrion, the gleaming red of the blade as it was drawn free from her chest.
It might’ve rained – that was the most plausible explanation he could process as he rode silently, unaware of the developing streaks charting tracts down his face. Of course he smudged the moisture away on the back of one hand absently as he went. On his face, however, among the smudges of tract-cleaned skin, shown every one of his 2500 years.
Resigning himself as the bustle of the city fell away around him - he traveled. To what, to were, he did not know exactly. To killing the men, certainly. To seeking out his father, passing along the infant, absolutely. But he couldn't. Not then, not yet...
Connor hadn’t made up his mind of where to go, before he ended up at the mouth of the road leading to the burnt ruin of Solara’s farm. Another fire. The memory was dim, and then surfaced. Fleetingly, he finally turned his attention outward. Much had changed since he’d last visited the place – since he and Solara had last seen one another. And yet, as his senses opened up, he became aware of the infant, wheezing, but finally seeming to stir. Became aware of the stillness, his mare having stopped after seeming to recognize the familiar place. The Commander’s lips pressed together, eyes falling to the infant, before he finally tugged at his mare’s rein with a direction… sending her down the roadway toward the ruins of Solara’s home.
The quiet pull, the unknown feeling in his chest, sent him seeking her familiarity even as he felt unsure of what to do. Unsure of every situation in that day. As if the terms they'd departed on had been much better.
Above, the sky was a heavy grey - promising snowfall later in the evening.
Solara Ell Polst
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Jan 6, 2018 20:04:01 GMT
Solara had been busy. With Enzo's assistance, she had set about work to get her ranch in suitable shape to support the now three horses she possessed. A small building had been erected in one of the pastures which would serve as their 'barn' for the time being. Solara had been busy at court as well. Already petitioning to have her noble lands returned to her and also courting offers of marriage. She couldn't be picky, she didn't care to be. This was a marriage that would be born of necessity and not one of love. Something that she hoped would be short-lived. She had just made it back home and released her stallion into the field after removing his tack. Thankfully he had recovered quickly from the wound in his shoulder and appeared to have no lasting effects. Solara had visited a healer as well and despite a nasty scar, she had no lasting damage. The skin there was more sensitive and on occasion, she would feel a burn beneath the surface. But she had no limp, and full use of her leg. That was the most important matter.
Despite the cool weather she had stripped out of her ornate courtly clothing and dressed in a simpler more versatile shirt and pants along with a long coat. Her dark curls were still pinned up away from her neck with only a loose dark ringlet hanging down on one side of her face. The pressures to look beautiful in court. How she loathed it. Solara had just stashed her things in the small home that had been built for her. It was little more than a one room shack but it was four walls and had a stove for warmth. She could hardly survive all winter sleeping on the ground. Stepping outside she caught sight of the painted mare making its way up the path to her home. Connor astride her. But there was something...wrong. She could feel it. He wasn't holding himself in that normal regal way of his. His arms didn't loosely hold the reigns but one was cradling 'something'. As he drew closer she could see the soot on his skin. The streaks carved down his handsome face. Something was very very wrong.
Solara stepped out to meet him, catching the mare's bridle to make her stop at her side. "What happened?" It was her first question. She was about to ask the second being 'are you alright?' when she heard the soft sound of an infant grumbling. Her dark eyes fell to the small swaddled babe who twisted a bit and gave a soft cough. It's pale skin also smudged with soot. What..the hell? She would assume they had escaped a house fire. But why would Connor have an infant? Why was he in a house fire? And why was he here with said infant after said possible fire? She blinked and stepped back, her brow furrowed with confusion. "Go inside, I'll care for your mare." She would nod over her shoulder to the small simple shack. The babe should be out of the cold as soon as possible. And Connor...he looked like he had seen something horrid. Had he been crying? Could Connor cry?
If he would dismount Solara would take the mare and tie her. Not removing the saddle because she wasn't certain how long Connor would be with her. Her home was simple, it had a bed, a small wood stove with a pipe that ran out the roof, and a very small table with two chairs. A basin of cool soapy water sat on the stove warming, she had planned to use it herself once she was finished with her chores. But Connor would likely need it first. She gestured for him to sit if he hadn't already. The question that had been burning at the back of her mind finally pushing its way past her lips. "Is that...your baby?"
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
Single.
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Authored by Rhys.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Jan 10, 2018 6:09:53 GMT
The length of the pathway passed as a blur. Connor’s grip remained steady against the tiny bundle, even as his hand again fell slack with the mare’s rein. Just what was he expecting to find? And yet, she appeared, seeming to find him even before he might’ve begun looking for her.
Dimly, he tilted his head up as the mare’s gait was brought to a halt. His gaze found her creamy hand steady on the mare’s bridle, before his eyes finally found her face. Solara’s face. She was there… That familiarity caused him to try to school his expression. He forced it, forced that neutrality, for the sake of processing the situation. She was asking him something. Asking what had happened. He started to speak, and yet even to his own ears no words came. How was one to answer that question? So much had happened. About to try speech again, he got so far as “My-” before his ear caught the soft cough. At once, his mask fractured as his brows drew together. Nodding, he shifted his grasp to the saddle horn, securing his weight before he swung himself free – carefully, trying to not disturb the infant.
He slipped off into the shack, pausing in the doorway to glance from the infant back the way he’d come – back to Solara as she dutifully lead his mare off. Allowing the door to swing feely shut behind him, he held the child awkwardly in the crook of his arm as he quietly pulled out a chair to sit. Not finding comfort in the thing, he at once rose and began to shuffle slow paces about the small space. Mercifully, even with the brief minutes of warmth, the child seemed to begin stirring again. Adjusting his grasp, awkwardly propping the tiny body against his shoulder, he held her there.
Before long, Solara appeared inside. It felt much longer than the few minutes it had been. Connor watched as she gestured for him to take to the chair again. His first reaction was to still his pacing, hesitating as he contemplated that offer. After only a moment, he finally moved to take the chair again. By that time, the infant was just beginning to fuss – clearly displeased with the lack of warm skin contact – and lack of food – the man offered. Connor’s hands lingered on her tiny form, keeping her in place as he carefully avoided touching her. Solara’s question, however, practically rung in his ears.
It was enough for him to look up, blinking. His head shook. “Not mine.” His face twisted, faltering as his eyes fell from her to the floor. He swallowed, struggling to keep his bearings, to keep his voice even. “The men she stole from – they locked us in her house. I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything… She stayed inside to distract them.” His eyes closed, his voice coming bitterly. The infant began to cry as he held her, Connor not moving a muscle. "I couldn’t do a damn thing. Two millennia – two and a half millennia - now she’s dead.” He looked up, the aged expression filling his face again. “My sister is dead.”
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Jan 11, 2018 5:59:21 GMT
He was disturbed in a way that she had never seen from him. He fought against the emotion. She could see it in the way his features tightened. But Solara would have had to have been a fool to not know that he was distraught. Solara entered the shack after them and ask the question that burned her tongue. He couldn't keep his composure when answering her. His misery punctuated by the sounds of the infant. Unhappy and likely hungry, but alive.
The tale he told her was broken up, erupting as he processed it. She blinked, her first thought concern that it had been her mother's doing but he mentioned some men that his sister had stolen from. He had been there then...He had been forced to watch his sister die. And this tiny little unhappy bundle must have been her child. His niece or nephew. Solara wasn't someone who did well with comforting people. She never knew what to say. What to do beyond offering to drink the pain away. But he had an infant with him, an infant that needed care.
"Connor... She tried. She tried to find the words to say she was sorry he was hurting. That she wished none of it had happened. But her normal eloquence failed her when she needed it most. When someone she cared for was faced with utter loss. "This is..her child?" She asked. She already assumed as much but it would be nice to have a solid answer. Her boots clicked softly on the rough floorboards as she stepped over to Connor to embrace him. A brief but meaningful hug. He wasn't the type to show emotions, she wasn't the type to coddle someone. But she wanted him to know she was there, even if she couldn't put that expression into words.
"...I have some goats milk." Solara said quietly. It wasn't a replacement for a wet nurse but it was better than the babe being left with an empty stomach until he could procure one. She was by no means comfortable with children. Let alone babies. But Connor likely needed a little time to adjust. Time to just process it all and breathe. She would never try to force him to give up the babe but she held out her arms in offering if he chose to unload his burden for a few minutes. It took her a moment to situate the child. It felt awkward. That damp weight of a tiny life held in the crook of her arm. With one arm occupied she stepped over to the soapy water and gestured to it for Connor. "You can wash up if you want." She felt so awkward and hoped she didn't come across as uncaring. But the whole...kind caretaker wasn't something she was accustomed too. And she definitely wasn't motherly.
Taking one of the rags from the water she squeezed it out and wiped at the babes face despite its protests until it was no longer an odd shade of gray. The fresh goats milk sat beside her bed and thats where she sat next, she had no bottle so she dipped a clean cloth into the milk enough to get it wet and then would slowly squeeze it into the open gaping mouth. It took a few tries. But Connor's kin was a quick study. Before long she was eagerly sucking the milk from the cloth. Dark eyes moved up to Connor then with the angry babe pacified. Worry lining her forehead.
"Do you know who did it?"
It was crude perhaps to delve into the idea of revenge so quickly. But it was how her mind worked. Someone had wronged one of his people, stolen her life. It was only just that they suffer the same fate. Spoken softer, as if wary of a harsh response she asked him. "...Are you alight?" He could take that as mentally of physically. And truthfully she meant it for both.
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
Single.
Immortal
Authored by Rhys.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Jan 11, 2018 7:12:48 GMT
His breaths came heavier, more stressed than he’d have cared for. It sounded, by his breathing alone, that he had run for many, many miles, or been in the midst of grappling an attacker. He hated it, hated that vulnerability – and yet, he found it difficult to combat in those moments. At the very least, he had enough presence of mind to keep his eyes from glazing over, or rather, was tapped out of tears in those moments. Solara moved then, seemingly at as much of a loss as he, closing the distance between them as he regarded her from his seated position. With the proximity, with the warmth of her scent and body, with her embrace lingering, his head fell against her frame. He did not speak for a long moment, unable or unwilling to offer confirmation until she finally pulled back. “It’s hers.” It. His niece. His voice came a little less frenzied, a little softer as he exhaled, trying to slow his breaths again as he tried again. ”She called her Raelynn.”
Raelynn. Squirming against the support of his hands, the discomfort in her tones was just beginning to really reach his ears. Yelling, seeking obedience, ordering a drill – none of those things could help him deal with her. His brows slowly knotted, his tired, aged expression slowly replacing itself with one of loss – one of simply not knowing what to do. Solara’s soft murmur came then, a mercy of any event of that day. Slackening his grip, he slowly allowed the woman to take the infant from him. The release of that weight simultaneously caused his eyes to linger on the child, even as his hands fell to his lap in relief.
Rising as she moved to the water basin, Connor pressed his hands to the back of his neck. So much had happened. He needed to do something. Needed to act. He had to regain order of himself… To handle this as anything else. And yet, he felt heavy. Exhaling, nose scrunching slightly, it was only a moment more before he plucked the gloves away from his palms. He held the articles under one arm, watching Solara dab the child’s face clean in a way he didn’t think he could’ve mustered, before she set off for the bed. Skirting about her in those last seconds, his eyes fell from her to the basin.
The warmth of the water felt good on his skin, as he set to scrubbing the soot from his face and hair. Twisting his fingers in the dark strands, Connor allowed his hunched posture to linger as long as it took for most of the droplets to finally fall free from his face. He took that time to ground himself, or try to. When he finally rose, blotting his face on one of the towels which had been set aside nearby, he exhaled another steeling breath. Across the room, the protests of the infant had quieted significantly.
The Commander was just placing the towel back in its place, moving to draw his gloves back on, when Solara’s words reached his ears. Pausing, hands stilling against the leather, it was a moment before he finished his task. “There were six of them.” He couldn’t, wouldn’t, forget their faces. Shifting, he continued speaking as he was drawn toward her. Near the foot of the bed, he didn’t move to sit, preferring to stand, and at least sounding a more like himself as he spoke of the situation. “All humans, I’d guess. They ran in a pack like dogs.” Revenge? Was that the thought that caused him already to plan to return for them? Moving instead to lean against the wall, to rest his back against the surface, his lips twisted a little in disgust. “I’m sure I’ll find them like that too, when I go back.”
He seemed to simmer, before her softer tone roused him again. His right hand absently rose, running through his hair as he tried to decide how to respond. Alright? Was he? He wasn’t entirely certain of that. He didn’t feel very much right then, which was more unusual than not, particularly with being in her presence. Heavily, the Immortal exhaled from his nose. “I will be.” Connor tilted his head, allowing the back of his skull to press firmly to the wall. “I’ll need to take her to my father. I’ll feel better once she is there, and I’ve gone to slit the throats of each and every one of them…” Brooding, dark, the words slipped out as he stared at nothing in particular. “They’ll wish they were never born before I’m through.”
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Jan 11, 2018 8:14:34 GMT
Raelynn, he called her. This child was his niece. Solara peered down at the tiny being with worry in her eyes. Connor and the babe had lost someone dear to them but she was glad at least that Connor knew someone that could take care of the infant. Six humans...it had taken six cowardly men to kill an immortal who had lived so very long only to be extinguished as if she were nothing. Solara knew she was something....at least to her family. Connor was slowly getting his control back. Shifting from the unsteady panic into the methodical strategist. She listened in silence. Dipping the cloth so that it was damp again and repeating the action as needed. It was undoubtedly very different than what she was accustomed to but the babe would experience many changes to her little world over the next few days. As would Connor. Having someone who had been around for so long just gone...she couldn't imagine it. She had only one sibling and she had only learned of him a few months ago. She had no comparison she could make to his pain other than it must have been horrendous.
"Cowards." She said under her breath. To kill a new mother was quite low. And to need 6 men to do it? Did they fear her so badly? Solara shifted the child a bit on her arm and looked up to Connor who stood at the end of the bed. She recognized that look in his eye. That need to act. He was probably crawling in his skin right now with eagerness to go after the men. Solara hesitated before making the offer. Unsure how he would take it and also questioning her own ability to care for the child.
"I could take her to your father...if you wanted. But I would understand you wanting to keep her close after-" He would be aware that she had a history with his father. The man had actually been the one to save her from the cavern so many years ago. It was remarkable how small the world really was. She pursed her lips and gently rocked back and forth. Noting how sleepy the babe appeared. "Or I could go along with you to help...but I would want to help with all of it." Her dark eyes had drifted to the infant but flicked back to Connor on that note.
"I imagine that soon enough the will discover just who they murdered. And who her brother was. Anyone with even half a brain would know that you aren't someone to cross. You may need help drawing them out. And I want to help you." He always assisted her, always was there to help when she was in trouble. Now it was her turn. Something so personal to him needed to be taken care of without a hiccup. These men needed to face the devil as they drowned in their pain. Had they been different people they might have wallowed in his pain. She might have uttered a hundred condolences. But they were people of action. When something needed taken care of, they did it. This was one of those things.
"But it is your decision. I won't force myself on you." Her thumb gently ran across the infants soft cheek, pulling just the tiniest of reactive grins from the babe. A small pained smile came to the immortals lips. She didn't know his sister to mourn her. But she did mourn with the man she cared so deeply for.
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Commander of the Immortal Army
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Jan 11, 2018 9:31:34 GMT
“Rhea brought the trouble on herself…” He uttered quietly. Granted, in this case, given her condition, part of him wanted to blame Faron. Shame the thought, he knew Rhea would rip into him for it… But it was likely his absence that had helped spur her into old habits so quickly. Then again, she had no business doing what she did. Especially so poorly. She should’ve reached out sooner, months ago. Then perhaps he might have- Given his mental state, that thought was fleeting. He would consider it more later, knowing full well there were more pressing matters calling for his attention right then. It was difficult though.
His head tilted in thought with the offer that Solara presented. It had been during their first meeting that he’d come to learn of her association with the man, his father. He didn’t at all like the idea of leaving the babe be until she was with him. Leaving Solara alone too? Given the events of the day, his lips pressed together. To leave her at her ranch was one thing. Court another. But, alone, with a babe? Lingering memories from their last trip, from seeing her face so bruised- She would protest, if he brought it up. He knew it. But that was also a risk he was less inclined to take. Moments more, and she continued speaking aloud.
His racing thoughts slowed as the gravity of her offer seemed to sink in. Her fleeting glance seemed to seek confirmation of his recognition, drawing his gaze, before the pretty chocolate orbs disappeared beneath of veil of lashes as she looked to the infant. Murder. She was offering to assist in murder. Her next words practically stoked the heat of his considerations, driving him to consider what he might otherwise have not. Rhea… His hands folded before his chest, tightening against his sleeves. Was it better than leaving her alone? Letting her take the babe herself?
Would his presence mean anything if she ended up as Rhea? Staring skyward, with a gleaming red blade protruding from her chest?
No, he chided himself firmly. Those humans were weak, pathetic. Swill. They required a group to do such a deed. He had no doubt he could fell them – one by one or as a whole – and they wouldn’t see it coming. As far as they were concerned, he had never been to her home after all. And even if they had – he hoped they were scared. It would make the task at hand easier if they panicked.
Again, Connor brought his hand through his hair. “I meant what I said. I will make them regret their births…” His voice came slowly, measured, his eyes seeking out her own as he spoke. The dark hue was nearly black, cold, devoid of much else but a frosty resolve. “If we take Raelynn to my father first, together, I’ll take your help. But what you might see of me… Solara, it’s going to be cruel.” He didn’t know how well he might handle the infant alone. But, he didn’t know how else he’d fare in the event she left following witnessing what was to come. He didn’t want to consider that in the wake of what had already happened.
Waiting for her reply, his body was rigid.
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Jan 13, 2018 8:03:10 GMT
Solara pursed her lips but didn't argue his sister's innocence. She didn't know the girl. But she did know that they all brought pain upon themselves, it didn't mean that death was a warranted punishment, however. He fell quiet after that and she could see the thoughts spinning in his head as he considered them. the slight shifts in expression. The way his body would tense and momentarily relax. That inner turmoil was something she was all too familiar with. Eventually, the answer came and Solara dipped her head in silence. Considering his words.
If they were going to try to be...together, after all of the drama with her mother was over then she needed to really know him. All of him. Not just the charming quick-witted commander he portrayed to everyone. She needed to get familiar with his demons. Make them her own. She needed to see him in his utmost savagery, his lowest lows...But oddly enough, she wasn't afraid. Solara had learned over the last few months that she was more resilient than even she had thought. She now even had one hell of a scar on her leg as a testament to her rough 'lessons' learned.
Eventually, she spoke. One of her fingers slid beneath the little chin of Raelynn and around to her other cheek. Sated, at least for the moment, the infant was already dozing. "....I would expect nothing less." SHe said carefully.Her dark umber eyes rolled up to his face once more and a small nod given. "I can handle it. I want to help you." She wasn't some weak little thing that always needed saving. She was strong in her own right and it was about time she proved her worth.
She rose slowly from the bed with the infant still cradled in one arm. She would step over to where he stood to rigid. His fingers biting into the footboard. She reached out with her free had to lay it over his. "You aren't in this alone, Connor. Any of it." Her fingers clutched his briefly before the grip loosened. She had little control over her future, at least for a while. But she could do this, she could help him get his niece to safety and avenge his sister.
She looked around the room briefly before back to Connor. "Should I saddle my gelding?" A question as to if they were leaving in that moment, or if he needed time to rest. She overturned a small wooden crate that could serve as a tempory crib, it would keep the child from rolling over at least. She lay the bundled infant in the makeshift bed, hearing only the soft sounds of her tiny snores. She hesitated then stepped over to Connor, a cool hand settling on each side of his face. Her thumbs trailing softly over the flesh that could very well one day be the death of her. Emotions were closely linked. Love, hate, sorrow, happiness. It was a thin line that separated them all. She leaned up to kiss him, seizing his lips suddenly with her own. She shouldn't have, it wasn't in good taste. He was humming with loss. But emotions hardly made sense. Her forehead leaned against his own when she broke away after a moment. Her eyes downcast with guit.
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Commander of the Immortal Army
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Jan 15, 2018 8:03:55 GMT
Connor’s eyes were unwavering as they bore into her. They did not hold within their depths any sort of mischievous dare or flirtatious twinkle, but the sharp gleam of a predator. Just as she was processing, considering what exactly this meant, he was ready for her to pull back. To step away. In those moments, exhausted from the day, the effect wasn’t fearful or sorrowful as he had when she’d learned of his power, but rather severe, and resigned.
The looming Commander nodded slightly at first of her words, his eyes briefly drawn toward the motion of her finger on his niece’s chin. As she continued speaking, his gaze locked with her own, meeting her pretty umber one with eyes that seemed nearly dark as obsidian. After a moment, processing her next words, his shoulders seemed to relax slightly, and he offered a small nod. “Very well.” He hoped that she was correct, that she really knew what she was signing up for. He had a plethora of memories to reach back to, and he knew very well what he wanted to do to each of the men. Those actions, the deeds in the coming days – those, more than her mother, more than any royal, seemed the most likely thing to drive her off.
Before he really realized, she drifted upward. His body, despite the balm of her words, remained coiled, primed for action. As her hand settled briefly to squeeze his own, he bowed his head forward. Not in this alone? That itself was a foreign thought. Even when he’d had a contingent at his back, he’d never viewed any of his actions as being governed any other way. He didn’t quite know what to say, even if he’d tried consoling her with similar words before. And so, he made a small sound of acknowledgement, shifting to watch her as she moved about, his rear resting against the footboard.
He was just rubbing his temple against his palm when her question slipped free. Did he want to grant the men the evening to celebrate? Not particularly. He had, however, ridden straight through to get to Rhea’s place. His muscles felt heavier than they should have, and that wouldn’t be wise in seeking to track anybody – his father, nor the murders – down. There was also the babe to be attended to. She was small, fragile, and with the cool temperatures… His eyes briefly flitted to the small window, before they fell back to Solara. “Not tonight. It would be best to go first thing tomorrow.”
As Raelynn was settled in the makeshift crib, his attention was again drawn for the window. Outside, snow was just beginning to fall for the evening. It would blanket the land, blanket Rhea’s body, in the coming hours, of that he was certain. And yet, a contrast to that impending cold, Solara’s light touch, the warmth of her skin, brought him back to the room. His eyes started to hood at the feeling of her thumbing his face – and then she was leaning in close, voraciously.
While her emotions weren’t unreciprocated, he found himself responding with less intensity. When she stopped, however, he gave pause. Blinked at her as her eyes fell away. “Solara?” A tentative question, quietly murmured, coming as scarcely more than a rumble in his chest. Her single, loose curl, so delicately placed – his hand moved to brush it aside. But then, feeling a carnal pulse of need, he instead caught her chin with his fingers. Even as one of his hands twisted into the fabric of her coat, his lips fell over her own with a crushing force.
He needed her, wanted the scalding heat of her skin pressed against his own, craved it as a dying man craved water in a desert. Insistently, he found himself straightening up from where he’d propped himself against the footboard, moving to edge her back toward the small kitchen table.
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Jan 19, 2018 15:25:48 GMT
He informed her that they would go at first light. A good idea in her mind given the obviously weary infant. She had moved forward then, made a move that was in no way in good taste or likely welcome. Immediately she felt shame for her action. Stepping back with a bow of her head even as his lips formed her name in a soft question. He pushed her curl aside and she felt the need to apologize for such a foolish move. Because of everything. The situation with her mother, she was courting other nobles at that moment. The sudden and vicious loss of his kin. Who was she to think that she could assuage his pain with her body if only for a moment? To lull him into a fretful sleep before consciousness stole back to him like a vengeful beast.
She swallowed hard and turned her face to the side with a wrinkle in her brow. But then she felt his fingers pulling her chin back to face him. The sudden clash of his body against her own. There was a mere second of hesitation before she met his need with her own. She was behind backed against the table. Her hands quickly moved behind her to scoot its meager contents back a little further. She quickly pushed her boots from her feet. Her fingers falling down to remove her pants. She didn't bother to reach for her top. This wasn't a time for a slow burn, gentle coaxing. This was a moment where emotion needed to pour out in the ferocity of another's body. And she would be that for Connor, always.
Her fingers fell to the buckle of his pants in silence, quick hurried movements before her slender legs would wrap around him and draw him close.
-Fade to Black-
Eventually, Solara had found herself in her bed along with the troubled Commander. She awoke a few hours later to the unhappy sounds of the infant and already he was gone from the bed. She stared at the empty spot he had held until another angry cry pulled her back to what she needed to do. In a sleepy fog, she changed the infant, using an old handkerchief to do as well as she could. She fed the babe as she had the night before and once the infant was settled down in the makeshift crib making soft grumbles Solara began to ready herself for the day. Finding new clothing that she would slip over her lightly freckled porcelain skin. Fingers working through her unruly curls before she would fasten them up against the back of her skull. The door opening caused her to turn to see the Commander as her thin fingers pushed another pin into her thick hair in an attempt to hold in it place.
A good morning felt...wrong. So instead she gave him a small hesitant smile before her dark eyes would slip away and back to the infant who was swinging her small fists at something unseen. "I think she will be alright. I haven't heard her coughing yet this morning."
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