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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 2, 2017 22:06:26 GMT
Many long nights had found Warin in his makeshift glass shop. His skill had improved quickly, especially when he'd managed to barter some lessons from a glassworker in a nearby town. Though it had taken him away from the day to day duties around Blood Rose, many had been willing to help step up while he learned. A glassworker could be valuable, after all. He had already begun to produce some useful things, mostly with cast glass. The workshop area itself had been improved, now with a little more working space and shelves. The highest shelves had immortalized his successes. At first few, but now the shelves had become crowded with simple insects, animals, glass orbs, and other such works of fancy. They had grown more complex as his skill improved, though not terribly so. He only had so much time to devote to making pretty things when he could do useful work.
Recently, a tree had taken a place of honor on the shelf- amber and green glass forming the trunk and leaves of what was clearly an oak. The day after it, a rich purple and gold pansy had sat on the shelf, just beneath the oak's sheltering branches. Then he hadn't made anything for a few days. He had instead devoted himself to working in the fields and with the livestock and doing any hundred of other things their home always needed. Some of it he even spent straightening up the home he now had for himself, small but so high up. It was fairly barren of personal things, but as soon as he'd managed to install a sturdy shelf, the tree and pansy made their way there. They were personal. If he was too quiet or too withdrawn, most people didn't give it a second thought. Even those who had come to seek out his companionship found themselves turned away with a playful jest and chose to leave him to the quiet he clearly seemed to want. And Alvina... well, he avoided her.
Nearly a week later, he went back to the forge. He knew what he wanted to make but it took two days and countless tries for him to be satisfied with the result. A day later, he sought out Alvina in the evening, when he was fairly certain she wouldn't be busy. As luck would have it, she was meeting with another couple of pack members. He lingered a short distance outside the central building until they trickled out. Then he moved passed them to the door to catch her before she left.
"Alvina, could I speak to you privately? It may take some time." He didn't want her to be in between things, rushing to another duty. And it was more for his sake than hers.
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Alpha of the Blood Rose Pack
Heterosexual .
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Post by Alvina on Oct 2, 2017 22:44:12 GMT
Time had a funny way of behaving following the gala turned into a bloodbath. Alvina was more than relieved by the time they’d returned to the pack, content that they had no guards trailing after their tails. The normalcy of life in the place had the typical lull, days blurring together in an endless, peaceful span of green, punctuated by the scent of damp, mountain earth. And yet, the way in which it changed… She found herself unsure of exactly what had happened with Warin, in their time out and away from the pack. But time seemed fleeting, altogether too short on the brief occasions she’d glimpse him working or going about chores. In no conscious capacity could she understand why. Dutifully, though, much in how he conducted himself, she did not take the time to seek him out. The she-wolf did not seek to indulge in those fleeting moments of time.
Given the circumstances, that was all right and good. With the air growing cooler, and the leaved trees beginning to change into beautiful tones of amber, golden yellow, and mottled red, she was becoming quite focused on preparations for winter. Their mountain village did receive snow, which would make fetching supplies more difficult. Prey animals, too, would dwindle. Food preparations and storages were required, things which she reviewed old records to help give instruction for. Beyond that, there was also the matter of checking all of the roofs and quarters, particularly for the elderly or those in the pack with children. With the coming chill, any leakage of moisture or snow would be dangerous if not just uncomfortable. There was also planning to be addressed. As it were, a particular ginger were-monkey had happened upon her mate, in the form of a lanky were-beast who had happened upon their territory.
Those were the two she was just finishing speaking to, having made plans to celebrate on the night of the next full moon. A night of ceremony among the moonflowers in the small grove, which would then evolve into an evening of libation and celebration with a bonfire in the center of their camp. Of course, Armin and Santos would provide drink, though some smaller touches, things Alvina would coordinate as surprises to Nicole and her mate, would also be in order. Having gleamed enough information to reaffirm her confidence in pulling such things off, she’d just dismissed the two when another form appeared at the doorway mere seconds after they had gone.
Alvina recognized his smell, even before she really registered the shape of his form. Having been about to drop off of the raised platform and onto her feet, she instead shifted herself to sit. It was remarkably similar to their first meeting, especially given that there was a small platter of sampled food in place near where she was situated. Her brows, however, knit slightly as she considered his words. “Of course, Warin. Close the door behind you. We won’t be disturbed.” Her head tilted slightly, as she focused on the interaction at hand, rather than the funny way her stomach felt at seeing him. This had been their first proper interaction in... a while. “Is something the matter?”
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 2, 2017 23:00:13 GMT
The strained, almost formality that the air seems to have between them makes him nervous, makes him question. He does as she bids while his mind wonders if he should do this at all but Warin does not really know how to stop something once he sets it in motion. He has never been one who could check himself when the strings of fate seemed determined to draw him along a certain path. He was more likely to plunge down the hill head long into the wind.
"Yes and no." His response reflected his own hesitance. He joined her on the raised platform, sitting down near her, facing her. Not so near they touched, a careful distance. One of his hands carefully cradled the bit of glass he'd brought with him, wrapped in a bit of rough cloth that hid it's true shape. He ran his other hand through his hair, not quite sure where to begin. He reached for a tidbit off the plate then stops, a frown briefly flickering over his face, and lets his hand drop. He isn't hungry, he's looking for an excuse. Has he ever done this before? No, it doesn't feel like he has. This is new, unknown territory, and somewhere in his gut he is terrified.
"I owe you a story." His false levity has faded, leaving behind an uncharacteristic seriousness- and a nervousness that is hidden only so well. "I haven't told it before and I don't know-" He stops, settles himself, and tries again. "I want to tell you this. Will you listen?"
He's delaying and he knows it, but it seems right to ask. He runs his restless hand through his hair, still damp from the swim in the rapidly cooling pond he'd taken earlier to work off some of the nerves. Not that it had worked. He'd run this conversation through his head countless times over the past few days- had it only been days? He wasn't sure anymore.
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Alpha of the Blood Rose Pack
Heterosexual .
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Authored by Rhys.
Offline.
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Post by Alvina on Oct 2, 2017 23:17:28 GMT
He approached, though as his scent seemed to fill the space, she quickly became aware of a few things. Or rather, her inner wolf, more predatory and attuned to such idiosyncrasies, did. The scent around him was heavy with nerve, something typically characteristic of a cornered prey animal. And his words... There was a clear, shaky quality to them, particularly in the duality of his response. That was an observation that simultaneously caused both her stomach to flutter with her own nerve, and her inquisitive nature to flare. Everything about his movements, too, seemed measured, careful… In that moment, her thoughts jumped around, trying to consider. Just what was the former soldier so afraid of?
She watched as he practically tore a hand through his hair, multiple times in fact, her brows still drawn. Watched as he reached, then dropped his hand, before speaking in a thin, serious tone. We wanted to tell her, owed her as he claimed, a story? Even if she found the prospect interesting, his expression seemed to call attention to the significance he felt on the subject. In all the time since he'd arrived, seeing refuge, she'd never seen him behaving in such a way. Smoothing her features, the she-wolf allowed her words to come with a softer, more casual tone, punctured with a nod. Prompting him, as he seemed to desire. “You have my attention. Go ahead. What is it?”
The funny sensation in her stomach, and the anxious, fleeting feeling in her blood; they seemed to intensify as she clung to the silence in the air, waiting for him to begin speaking.
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 3, 2017 0:59:09 GMT
He exhaled, slow and controlled. There was no more stalling.
"After the war ended, I spent several years selling my sword. Protecting couriers, diplomats, the like. It gave me purpose." The start was rough, inelegant. He wasn't sure it was the right place to start, but it was the best place he had. "But as the work dried up I didn't have anything to guide me. The war left me with a lot of demons. Without purpose, they started to catch up with me. I even tried spending a year as a swan but... I'm not an animal." There was an odd emphasis on the last word, a soft vehemence he wasn't quite concious of. "It didn't work for me. Eventually I ended up in Snowmont."
HE took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, now idle in his lap. There was a subtle tenseness in his posture, but his voice stayed smooth, careful. The words were coming easier now, little be little as the story gained momentum. "The Snowmont flock is founded on passivism. They hid behind the protection of more warlike allies during the war, providing support in exchange for being left in peace. They didn't think much of me when I showed up out of the woods. Galen and Ygraine were there from the beginning. They had a cottage in their garden that Ygraine used as a studio when she still painted. She hadn't used it in some years, so they gave it over to me. Helped me get on my feet. I did odd jobs around the place. At first I was definitely just a charity case- Ygraine used to call me her project." And now he smiled, just a little curl of his lips as he glanced up to look at Alvina.
"I started spending more time with them and we became close friends. I didn't have many others- my ideals and most of those of Snowmont didn't really align. And they disapproved of the young people spending time around me. Thought I'd romanticize warfare to them or something." He huffed a small sigh. "I started to... realize that I thought of them as more than close friends or family. But they were mated. I couldn't- and wouldn't- intrude on that. I figured it would be unwelcome. Ygraine's health was fragile, so I spent a lot of time helping her around the house, running errands, that sort of thing. And I kept Galen company in his workshop when she chased me out, or sent me to fetch him for dinner. And I watched him make flowers for her, because she couldn't spend much time in the garden anymore. So he made her a garden indoors with flowers made of glass."
"One day, I was sitting in Galen's workshop, watching him work and talking about the garden. It was spring, and I had sort of taken over keeping it going under Ygraine's direction. I mentioned that I liked the snapdragons best, and he made one at the end of the afternoon. I helped him close down the shop and on our way back to the house, he gave it to me." He wasn't looking at her now, his eyes fixed somewhere between them as he remembered. "And that's how things went. Over time I moved out of the cottage and into the house with them and we gave up any pretense that I we didn't have a romantic relationship of some kind. Galen was one of the eldest in Snowmont and though not everyone liked him he was well respected. He put his foot down if anyone started talking about it and we didn't get too much push back from the community. No one wanted to be anywhere near me, but that wasn't exactly new. It didn't bother me much, so long as I had Galen and Ygraine."
This was the part where it got hard, but the flood gates were open. He couldn't have stopped now if he wanted to. "Galen and I talked sometimes, about what would happen when Ygraine died. We always assumed she would pass first, given her health. But she had been stable for a long time, and even seemed to be getting a bit stronger. One night, I woke up to her screaming." He stopped to take a shuddering breath and his hand lifted to his chest. "We don't really know what happened. He just... didn't wake up. After her was laid to rest the elders came to me. Told me that I needed to leave." His fingers curled a little in the fabric of his shirt, then loosened. His voice, however, gained a certain amount of bitterness. A familiar bitterness, the same bitterness that had colored his voice the first day they'd met.
"They said I was taking advantage of her in her grief. That I couldn't possible understand how deeply a mate bond effects someone and how delicate someone like Ygraine was. How if I wanted to honor Galen's passing I would leave and let her mourn in peace." He bit the list word off, breath hissing between his teeth. But the anger was growing cold at this point, too old and too futile to be worth fueling. "We talked about it and I decided to leave. Not like they wanted, with an apology and denouncing what we'd done as wrong. On our terms, with Ygraine's blessing." His shoulders shuddered but his voice was firm. He blinked dry eyes a few times and lifted his eyes to hers.
"And then, eventually, I came to you." There was more, the matter of the trinket hidden by it's cover of cloth, clasped now between both his hands.
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Alpha of the Blood Rose Pack
Heterosexual .
Widowed.
Werebeast
Authored by Rhys.
Offline.
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Post by Alvina on Oct 3, 2017 1:35:04 GMT
Alvina folded her hands together, focusing with intent and an open ear as the Were before her launched into an explanation. What he supplied, however, was far different than what she expected to hear. Rather than an apparent grievance, he was offering a history. His history. It prompted some questions, which she carefully noted for later, for a more opportune time. And, as was the case for Warin with when she had offered the explanation of the Pack’s origin, she found her perspective regarding some of their previous conversations growing colored. It was as if, having been a black and white image before, different components were coming to light. His concern when she’d stated their highest law, his snappy consideration when they’d discussed it, his wariness, the way he seemed to simultaneously and entirely empathize when she’d spoken of Erick, despite all else…
Through his account, her face kept the same, calm composure. Neutrality might’ve been glued in place, which might well have been a shock, given her previously expressed reverence for the mate bond – she was focused on listening, digesting, and understanding. Her hands did not move from where they settled together, her eyes seeming transfixed on his face as he charted the tale.
His account, though one that was uniquely different than anything she’d heard from anyone previous, was one which prompted her own sympathies. The affection in his voice for the pair seemed to be palpable, his distress in describing the loss of the male, Galen, equally so. Her heart wrenched slightly, watching his fingers tug at his shirt, as though he were trying to assuage some unseen pain in his chest. The feeling… It was not one she couldn’t relate to. Seeing him express such things, it tugged at her. It was when he finally spoke of the Elders, however, that her fingers tightened involuntarily, subtly, against the fabric against her leg. Knowing well how the woman, Ygraine, would’ve reacted with the death of her Mate, she couldn’t imagine what it might’ve been like to have another in place after such a loss. Couldn’t imagine being forced to reconcile one loss, when the rest of the Pack were forcing another right on its heels. She could relate less with Warin’s position, though the hissing sound of his teeth as he spoke with quiet resolution too resonated with her in a way she couldn’t quite explain. The idea of leaving one behind, when you felt it in your ability to help… She’d felt that before too, if at a different magnitude.
When he finally seemed to reach a point of pause, she wet her lips slightly, just a darting of her tongue, before pressing them together. Her hand extended then, slowly at first, to lightly squeeze his leg. She hadn’t seemed to pay much mind to the appearance of the cloaked object in his hands, her focus lying more in formulating a response to accurately convey her thoughts. “I disagree with the decision of the Elders, especially if she would’ve wanted you to stay otherwise. When you… loved her, so sincerely.” Alvina’s words were soft, deliberate. “And I’m sorry about how our rules might’ve come across, knowing what happened now. That sort of thing, it isn't disrespectful to the bond I think, especially if both of them..." A small headshake, her words coming with more conviction. "That won’t happen here. I won’t allow it, nor is our Council like that.” She wouldn’t apologize for it happening with another pack, knowing that it such a thing wouldn’t provide any solution; the assurance in the present was the best she could offer.
Blind to what was to come, her brows furrowed slightly. She was so focused on alleviating his concern, that she wouldn’t be in any position to anticipate what else could come, what other reason why he might’ve chosen to approach her in this way. “Warin. I took you as you were, and it's not as though I'm going to kick you out over your past… What's bothering you?” It was at the last second that she finally seemed to pay attention to the fact that he was holding something in his hands.
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 3, 2017 14:22:03 GMT
It's not exactly a weight that lifts when he finished his tale, more like a release. As though he has kept these things so tightly wound within himself that he had not even realized the toll it took until the words were free. His hand moved to cover hers when it touched him, unself-conciously accepting what comfort was offered. His lips quirked in a slight, smile as she spoke. "I know you wouldn't. But it was a story I thought you should know."
Though he'd found some relief, nerves still fluttered like trapped moths in his stomach. And he wondered again if perhaps he what he was doing was somehow wrong. Whatever tentative friendship had grown between them could be shattered. And yet... and yet, Warin did not know how to do things in half measures. He drew his hand from hers, both hands cradling the glass object in it's shield of cloth. "You won the bet, so I made you a trinket like you asked."
He wasn't sure she'd understand as he drew back the cloth and held the delicate glass object for her to see. It was a moonflower, crafted from milky glass that was more opaque in some places and less in others, lending something to the ethereal quality. In the candle light it glowed. Under moonlight it looked positively eldritch. He had checked the night before, after he'd finished it. He wouldn't have given it to her if it hadn't been right.
He had no more words, only the mute offering held between them in the palm of his hand.
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Alpha of the Blood Rose Pack
Heterosexual .
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Post by Alvina on Oct 3, 2017 16:49:17 GMT
His hand fell over hers, where she had touched his leg, his expression conveying some sense of relief. That was good. It seemed her words at had at least put to rest some of his fears. She twisted her hand under his, offering a small squeeze of confirmation. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” Much in the way it had been for her sharing her own tale only a short while before, hearing such a thing was indeed very personal. It would take some time to process and make sense of it all, but she did feel as though she were coming to understand the former soldier far better.
Slowly, his hand withdrew, as he gathered the object he’d brought into his palms. Hearing mention of the bet, her brows rose. That. In a way, though she had won, she hadn’t expected him to actually follow through on such a thing. A jest. Then again, he had claimed the space she’d offered in the bed.
That memory, waking up the following day…
She swallowed, leaning forward slightly as she peered at the covering. A moment more, and the cloth was drawn away to reveal the intricate little piece that was concealed beneath. Her breath caught in her throat a little as she leaned forward, the fingers of either of her hands lightly touching palms, but not quite the glass. It was almost as if she were afraid of breaking it. “Warin... It- this is beautiful.” A smile broke across her features, something which almost rivaled the smile brought by his jest of Connor’s parentage. It brought a youthful, happy twinkle to her eye, and illuminated her face. “Thank you for making it for me.” For me. As the words left her lips, her thoughts began racing. It was almost as if dots were being connected. Why would he have felt the tale of the glassmaker and his mate, Ygraine, was such a critical one to preface such a gift if it were really only the product of a little bet?
The funny feeling of nerve in her stomach was magnified, at once also being accompanied by a heartbeat that started hammering against the confines of her ribcage. Decades, centuries. It had been over 286 years since she'd had to consider such a thing. “Warin..?” The question was plain in her voice, the light in her face not quite disappearing despite the inquiry spreading across her features. Perhaps she was being presumptuous. Perhaps she had misunderstood…
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 3, 2017 17:16:45 GMT
He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind as she spoke. He delight warmed him- he didn't want to admit how many restless nights he'd spent trying to decide what to make, waffling between different ideas. And there was another feeling, an odd kind of pride he wasn't entirely accustomed to. He was proud of what he'd accomplished. He felt that so far it was the loveliest thing he had created. Not the most useful certainly, but definitely the most beautiful.
When she smiled like that, every failure was worth it.
The question in her voice made his tentative relief falter. He watched her carefully, noting the light fading just a little from her joyful expression. She knew. She had to know. But he could understand the desire for there to be no question about his intention. His offering hand didn't move, holding the flower steady so she could choose to take it- or not.
"I would like to court you, Alvina."
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Alpha of the Blood Rose Pack
Heterosexual .
Widowed.
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Post by Alvina on Oct 3, 2017 18:27:41 GMT
I would like to court you, Alvina.
The words rang in her ears as a blast from a cannon.
“I- I don’t… I can’t… I’d like…” I don’t think this is a good idea conflicted directly with I can’t do this, which directly contradicted I’d like that. So composed, so carefully controlled – and yet, she was stumbling over her words. Her brows furrowed, hands not wavering, though her expression was quickly filling with tumultuous, stormy emotions. Her heart felt like it had jumped into her throat. It felt difficult to breathe, difficult to consider what was at hand. She never expected to be confronted with such a thing, especially not then. Not after the loss, Erick’s loss.
And yet, somehow, the foreign, fluttering feeling in her stomach had started to make sense.
Shifting, slowly straightening her spine, Alvina pressed her lips together. Control. She needed to regain control. Needed to think, and consider what this meant. She exhaled a big breath, one she didn’t know she’d been holding. Her expression smoothed slightly – though something akin to fear seemed to creep in despite her attempt to put on a tightly controlled mask. She felt no older, no more experienced than a teen right then. “I’m not saying no. But I need to think about it…” Slowly pulling her hands back, “Can you-“ No, a little more direct. “Keep that safe for me. I need to think.”
Her stomach somersaulted as she scooted back, widening the space between them a little. The entire room felt warm. Uncomfortably warm. In actuality, the feeling was one produced by the flush he’d caused to rise in her face. “I’m sorry.” The words came quieter; the she-wolf forced herself to look him in the eyes, even if the glance was fleeting. “I should go.”
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 3, 2017 19:22:58 GMT
It was almost a physical sensation, her withdrawing from him. He saw it in the straightening of her posture, the careful breaths and the tightly controlled expression. He understood that this was unexpected- he'd be lying if many of the scenarios he'd gone over in his head ended in refusal, rejection, catastrophe. Still he clung to her indecision. The last words that had tumbled from her lips.
'I'd like...'
That had to mean something. As if prompted by her own withdrawal though, his lips quirked in a genial smile. It was his own armor, drawn up to guard against the fear of hurt. Her choice of words eased the fear and little, dampened the hurt. It wasn't a no. He drew the glass flower back, covering it again in the bit of cloth to keep it safe. She scooted back and he hurried to stand, putting yet a little more distance between them in the process. He met her eyes briefly, but he wasn't a good enough liar to completely screen the fleeting regret. It had been unlikely she'd say yes right away. He knew that- he knew something of her past. But hope did not bow to reason.
"I won't keep you. I hope... sleep well, Alvina." He made his way by memory back to his home, avoiding the people still around the common areas. Still wrapped, he stowed the moonflower away with care.
A moment later, a black shape rose against the black night, powerful wing-beats driving him above the treetops. Then he banked towards the lake he'd come to frequent when he needed time to himself.
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Alpha of the Blood Rose Pack
Heterosexual .
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Authored by Rhys.
Offline.
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Post by Alvina on Oct 3, 2017 20:58:11 GMT
Had she been comfortable inflicting discomfort on someone else, or a masochist herself, she might’ve tried intervening when he left. Mercifully, however, he retreated with a speed that rivalled her own. Dropping to her feet neatly, she averted her eyes then, offering a curt nod at his words before she strode off.
She did not seek refuge in her wolfen form. Rather, she stole off to the quiet place amongst the tree canopy which she called home. Her breaths felt heavy, growing hoarse as her composure slowly crumbled on the walk back. It was miraculous that none of the pack seemed to see, though if they had, nobody approached. Slipping through her doorway, she slammed the wooden weight with more force than was perhaps necessary when she sought to lower herself to sit against the wall beside the door.
Her eyes fell closed. An overwhelming pressure exerted what felt like a crushing force against her chest. She did not shed tears, instead holding her eyes shut as she pressed the back of her skull against the wall. Her feet pressed so hard against the wooden floorboards that her skin turned white, her hands exerting punishing force against her arms, where they’d wrapped around her torso.
What did she want? What would he have said?
Her mind wandered, thinking back to the sight of Erick’s grey and white form, mottled with blood with a lance protruding brutishly from his side. His eyes had closed, his flank heaving with strangled breaths. She had whimpered, pressing her face against his, her body pressing tightly against the ground amidst the clashing Werebeasts and humans around them. They need… you… I’m sor-sorry. His voice quickly grew fainter, weaker. Then came the last bit – burned unforgettably into her memory. Alvina… Don’t- Whatever the Were had been struggling to say broke off, his voice extinguished with the loss of his last lifeblood.
Don’t what? Don’t forget? Don’t move on? Her grip tightened, her head pressing with even more force against the stabilizing plane that was her wall as the world seemed to spin. The cold pit inside seemed to clutch with a fiercer grip, as if it were trying to maintain its presence.
Internally, there was the ever present racing of her heart, as the image of the beautiful crystalline flower and memories of Warin’s playful touches clashed with those of her past.
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