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Post by Connor Lachesis on Nov 27, 2017 23:45:54 GMT
What sort of man might he have been, had he relented so easily? With a crisp precision, he folded the paper between his fingers even as Solara primed her responses. It was not unexpected, her stubbornness proving both admirable, and incredibly frustrating in those moments, as she met him with a pointed look and unwavering words. His jaw seemed to set, though no vein popped as might’ve been expected if he were exerting tension on the muscles. He listened, resigned in his own way as he watched her fidget.
Her mother? Well, that might’ve changed… well, not really a thing. He found himself wanting to dispatch the woman even more in those moments. There was injustice in her actions yes, but also a cruelty in taking so long to execute such a thing. It was a quality he might’ve glimpsed in himself before… and yet, the longer he spent in association with the woman before him, he was finding odd feelings developing within himself. A need to protect, a fondness, which made him want to hunt the thing threatening her. And the awareness, the presence of mind, that the cruelty her mother demonstrated was no so far from his own history.
His words flowed smoothly, eyes settling to meet Solara’s as he spoke. “By all means if she’s supposed to be dead, I think we could rectify that. I could, anyway. It isn’t as if she isn’t giving us the grounds to do it. ” Perfect. Threatening to kill her murderous mother? Even to his ears it couldn’t have been charming. And yet, that was the knee jerk reaction he felt.
Solara continued. Her tone shifted. Less was she focused on the woman herself, and more was she concerned with the implications to others. Her tone fell flat. Her arms crossed. She looked away.
The gears of his thoughts surged rapidly, continuing along his earlier vein of thought while also trying to reconcile her words. Trying to listen. The looming Immortal man was quiet, the crackling flames in the stove the only sound audible in the room.
In a soft huff, he shook his head. The word came, a not quite carrying the harsh belting tone he’d use with his men but still firm. “No.” Out the window went his notion, his control, at the thought of being unable to direct her actions. “You were a noble. She was a noble. Nobles do things like this – pressure people.” A headshake, the paper slipping away as he tucked it into his back pocket. His arms crossed, matching her posture. “You are right. This is a high stake. And because of that, you won’t play this game. This isn’t a game for nobles. It’s one of killing.” His eyes lingered on her face, before falling to the orange glow at the window of the stove. “I am a killer. As it is now, my job is foremost to protect our people. You are a denizen. If she is a threat, I’m not going to stand by and let you take the brunt of it. It’s not selfish… It’s a practical use of our skills.” His eyes finally wavered from the stove to her face, the obsidian coloring stony, stubborn, in that moment. “And I’m not going to die… because she’s trifling with someone she has no clue of.” Nobody did, not really. Solara was the closest, but even she... only had an idea. Had only been told a fraction of his history.
One of his hands finally moved from his crossed posture, his fingers raking through his hair. “It’s easier for me to do that. I could talk to the king, try to get your lands back that way… But without a hefty title, without clout, it’d be difficult to get things back quickly to appease her.” That left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Will you trust me?”
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Nov 28, 2017 0:23:29 GMT
Solara pinched her nose and pushed a long breath out at Connor’s statement about killing her mother. Solara despised her mother, she hated the person she was. But actually killing the woman who had given her life even in the face of threats seemed….wrong. The same woman who had helped her take her first steps, fed and clothed her. It was only when Solara had grown older, matured that her mother had turned into her enemy. ”I don’t like her Connor, I might very well hate her more than I’ve hated anyone. But matricide isn’t something I can agree too.” She sighed. It would be a hell of a lot easier if she could though.
”No.” Solara turned her dark eyes on Connor then. Narrowed and disliking the way it sounded like he thought he could tell her ‘no’ about anything. Her pride burning and making her reply without waiting for him to continue speaking. ”No?” The question was obviously a loaded one, her anger hiding just beneath the surface. Connor wasn’t her enemy, but Solara was already angry and upset. If he kept pushing her he would inevitably catch the shit storm she was barely controlling.
”-you won’t play this game.” He told her again what she would do, that he was going to handle things. Take care of them. His prideful words of his capabilities bringing out a sudden scoff. ”Firstly. You can’t tell me what I will and will not do. You are a ‘friend’ Connor, not my superior, not my father, not even a husband. I make MY own decisions.” Her dark eyes were a swirl of frustration and anger. Connor always assumed he could fix anything and most of the time he could. But this time he couldn’t. He couldn’t make it all better with his blade and effortless charisma. ”You think she won’t have her own people, Connor? You would risk your regimen for me? That’s foolish. I’m detached from our noble society. I live in Mir. My death would have no effect on the immortal people. You can’t reason that it would make sense just because you want it to.” Her voice had risen a little in volume. Partially because she felt he just brushed her words and concerns aside because it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
And partially because she felt like she could go insane just thinking about the life she would be sentencing herself to. The empty shell she would become until her immortal burden became too much to bear. She shook her head when Connor said he could speak to the king. ”I can handle it.” She couldn’t depend on him to make it all better with a few words. Like he had said, it could take a while to get even negative results. ”I will speak to the men directly. I’m sure we can work something out.” Recalling her mother’s words about warming beds her cheeks took on a crimson hue. She might be a lot of things but she had never slept with someone to get something from them. She wasn’t a succubus.
“Will you trust me?” She stared at him, umber eyes boring into his own for several moments before she spoke. ”I trust you, you know that. But no, I’m not going to just do what you tell me to.”
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Nov 28, 2017 0:46:52 GMT
Her words held the lash of a whip, snapping sharply but unwaveringly. Connor knew in that instant that he’d upset her. But of course, she insisted on the righteous path, refusing to grant him the ease of a resolution brought by his own hand. His lips pressed together. His expression wasn’t quite a scowl, but it was close. Discontent. Frustrated. In his position, while he had tip-toed around directing her so, he was not one used to having such a word, No, flung back at him in such a way.
Well, he had grown unused to it over the last several hundred years at the least.
“Fine.” The word wasn’t quite as venomous as when a woman used it, but it still came sharply. Certainly, she had weight to her argument. Living so far away, without a title... But how could she not see it wasn't about her worth as an Immortal, but to him? He didn't have experience stating such a thing. And so, his words came low, seething, “So be it. I won’t kill her, but if she steps in my way and I have an opportunity, I’ll see to it that she locked away in a pit below the citadel. If she cared to show you an inkling of the mercy you’re offering her she wouldn’t be doing any of this shit.” The kindling of angry fire shown in his eyes, but was tempered. Restrained, even as he let loose with the coarse, unforgiving words.
His posture shifted as she continued. Not her superior, not her father, not a husband. At that, his lip might have twisted… but she continued with her words coming quicker, louder. Slowly, his hands dropped. No longer crossed in front of him, but hanging before him, one clasping tightly about his wrist in a stance vaguely similar to a guard attentive at a party. She had his full attention… And it was her continuation, the red in her face, that finally nudged him to the edge. “You and I both know what that means. What will it be? A lay for an acre? You aren’t a whore. You don’t live at a brothel.” It wasn’t that he hadn’t partaken in his share of whores over the years, he’d quite liked a few… But the idea of her being subjected to such a thing left him feeling disgusted. He turned then, pacing with his back to her. He fully expected his words to chagrin her further. “If you trusted me, as a Commander, as a soldier, even as a friend, you’d let me help with this. I keep telling you, you don't have to do things alone. I want to help, because I want to.” An angry shake of his head, and a fleeting idea with her sharply tossed words moments before. His words were tossed over his shoulder as he turned to pace back toward her. “You’d be better off marrying me. It’d be easier to pressure the King and the nobility that way. At least that way your mother wouldn’t make off you’re your dignity as well as the injury she’s caused.”
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Nov 28, 2017 1:19:27 GMT
His words were sharp and quick and the look on his face was anything but happy. She expected as much. He was just as stubborn as she was which normally wasn't an issue, but this time they were moving in different directions. Had different ideas about how to best handle the situation. Solara lifted her chin a little higher when he tossed her kindness back in her face. Obviously, her mother was very different from herself. She had tried once to kill her own daughter. She was obviously unhinged. But agreeing to kill her would make Solara just as bad, at least in her own mind. "Let's just hope you get that chance then." She replied, obviously annoyed and beyond the idea of revenge when she had bigger issues to worry about. Like the three lives that could be stolen away just because of something she did or didn't do over the next couple weeks.
She could sense something building in Connor, anger perhaps.It simmered just below the surface and licked at his words without truly exploding. Yet at least. Solara remained still where she stood, her arms crossed and her posture stiff. Connor shifted positions and spoke. Words that made her brow wrinkle and lips and chest clench painfully. "Do you really think I would 'sell' myself for some land? Is that what you would think of me?" But wasn't that on the table now? What if it was her only alternative? What action would she take then?
Solara's dark eyes softened momentarily before she pulled the shield back up. "I am capable of more than just fucking someone. Surprising, I know. But I appreciate the vote of confidence." He started to pace and had it been someone other than Connor she might have worried that she pushed him too far. That in anger he would strike out at her. She had no such worries with Connor. No concerns that he would physically harm her. A verbal lashing from him hardly left a mark, she had been a rebellious noble girl once upon a time. Lectures had been her bread and butter. “If you trusted me, as a Commander, as a soldier, even as a friend, you’d let me help with this.” Solara felt a twinge of guilt at that and looked down at her arms instead of following him with her eyes. He could twist it however he needed to but he couldn't convince her to do what he wanted her to just because he guilted her into it.
Wait...did he just say? Solara looked up at his pacing form as a breath of confusing words assaulted her ears. Was this some sort of cruel joke to get back at her just because she wouldn't obey? It certainly didn't make any sense coming from Connor. He was pretty much the exact opposite of the marrying type. He was known in immortal circles for 'getting around', it wasn't feasible that he would make an actual offer to her just because he was concerned.
"Can we at least be serious? This is hardly the time to be making jokes, Connor." Solara suddenly turned and walked over to one of the windows. Her heeled boots making soft taps on the aging wood floor. Placing her palms down on the windowsill she leaned forward, close enough that her warm breath could leave little puffs of condensation on the cold glass. "I know you're angry with me, and frustrated. But this is MY decision. You can't stand there and tell me that my life is worth more than any one of yours." She tucked a dark curl behind her ear and closed her eyes. She felt so stressed and lost, ready to snap at any moment.
"You should go." Because then she wouldn't have to worry about giving in. Then she could sit here alone with her fears and bleak future and just wallow in it without anyone to witness her pain.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Nov 28, 2017 1:44:01 GMT
Let’s just hope you get the chance then. Her tone, the way she thrust her chin up – his eyes narrowed. He had to bite his tongue to keep from throwing out more words. A chance? It was a promise. She didn’t need to know whether or not he put himself in the position to seize such an opportunity… which of course, he was tempted to do. And so, he met her with a wall of silence, simmering for himself.
The hitched tone that followed in her words might’ve been a thorn, might’ve caused his chest to tighten a little, had he not be so frustrated. Had the situation, had what her mother was telling her to do, been different. But as it were… He turned his head, levelling her with a look. Not a glare, but an arch of a brow. A vote of confidence? “I never said you were incapable. Don’t put words in my mouth.” His eyes narrowed. “You read it plainly as I did. That is what she seems to think, or am I not able to read properly?” The lightness of the paper in his pocket might’ve been a lead weight. Occupying a few beds… If burning the thing might’ve eliminated the words from his thoughts, if the crumbling of the paper to ash would have slowed the quickened energy in his blood, Connor would already have done it.
He pivoted on his heel to watch her as her steps carried her toward the window. Her breath caused the pane to fog as she settled before it, eyes falling closed. And then, of anything, she told him to leave. “No.” The word, perhaps to his benefit, came flatter. It wasn’t directed at her, even if the tone held defiance. “I’ll stay, thank you.” The last thing the Immortal wanted was for Alvina to rear her head to bark at him while he fumed in such a way. They’d had their own battles, too – disagreements which had historically left one or both of them battered and bloody. While a part of him would’ve relished in such an action right then… he knew her pack would well have their necks in relation.
Much in a similar fashion to what he had done in his chambers at the citadel, he situated himself in front of the door. Resting the weight of his back against it as he again crossed his arms. His next tones came muttered, heavy. “You’re making your choice. I’ll make mine. If you won’t listen to reason, I will act for myself. Independence is a two way road.”
Glaring at the darkness across the room, the heavy weight of the wood at his back, he brushed a hand through his hair again. Silence for nearly a moment, before her words jumped back in his thoughts. “By the way, it was a thought, not a joke. It’s certainly a better thought han what she wants of you.” His words were bitter, the closest to true pridefulness she might’ve seen in him.
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Nov 28, 2017 2:11:18 GMT
He was getting angrier, his words a little less controlled and measured. ”What she thinks of me does not matter. My mother hating what I am is a compliment in my book. For you to just automatically assume that I would resort to laying with someone for payment would bother me. And forgive me for putting words in your mouth but since you apparently think you can make my decisions for me I figured it would be alright.” She nearly growled as the last word left her mouth. She didn’t want to be doing this, arguing with Connor. He was one of the few she considered her own and pushing him away would accomplish nothing. But still she pushed.
He refused to leave. Solara let her forehead touch the cold glass. Perhaps it could take some of the heat from her body. Even slow her heart that hammered away rapidly in her chest, the urge to do something/anything hardly fulfilled by arguing and strutting around inside a cabin. Connor appeared much the same. Tense and alert, just waiting on the right trigger to snap.
”Act for yourself? I’m hoping you are just referring to refusing to leave and not something else for me to worry about.”
“By the way, it was a thought, not a joke. It’s certainly a better thought than what she wants of you.” Solara released her hold on the window to turn around and lean back against it. Dark eyes watching the Commander warily. It hadn’t just been a twist of words meant to make her uncomfortable then? She didn’t speak for what felt like ages, just watched the man, her friend who would make an offer of something that was certainly not what he would want, just to help her.
Again the soft tap of her heeled boots echoed through the cabin, slow steps carrying her until she stood in front of the Commander who was still bristling from their argument. ”I wouldn’t ask that of you.” She said slowly, her voice much softer than before. What if it tore apart the friendship they had? What if she found that she wanted it? Wanted ‘him’, but it was all a sham and had no real foundation? Solara had some very real reasons for never settling down with someone after her first love, the thought of having a fake marriage with some idiot she didn’t care about was easier to stomach than a fake relationship with someone she did.
”I don’t want to break this….us. If there is even an ‘us’ to begin with.” She rubbed her arms and turned her head to the side. ”It would be easier to have something fake with someone I don’t actually care about.” The words were soft and reluctant. A wrinkle in her brow as she tried to keep her emotions in check.
”I don’t think I could put on an act with you, Connor. And I don’t imagine that would end well for either of us…..”
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Nov 28, 2017 5:55:23 GMT
His fingers flexed tightly against his arms, fingers biting the cable-like muscles in that moment. Her growling tone, the accusation in her words… Had he assumed? Not exactly. But she seemed so resigned, so drained of any will to fight on the matter, that such an assumption had seemed the only option. If she wasn’t fighting, she’d be complying. Avoiding, as she seemed to think, putting he or anyone else in danger from this unseen predator they faced. “Your mother’s compliments are fucked up. What makes you think she won’t follow through on threats, when she attacked you out of the blue in the first place?” Short, yes, a change of subject, certainly, but not quite an apology. His fuming frustration, the surging of confrontation in his blood, made such a thing difficult right then.
The tension in her voice – I’m hoping you are just referring to refusing to leave and not something else for me to worry about – would meet deaf ears. Anything she might’ve feared right then, worrying thoughts as they were, were struggling to take shape. If he got hands on that woman…Connor tilted his head until the back of his skull rested firmly against the door. His eyelids fell closed, and he instead focused right then on breathing.
He needed to slow his heartbeat, to calm the tempest of a storm within. Fighting wasn’t going to get them anywhere. From experience, it also put Solara at an undue risk. That consideration was easier thought than executed…
It was the soft tapping of her heels after several minutes that finally caused his eyes to open. At first, he peeked at her from only a slit, much like a feline staring into a bright light. Her quiet words, however, caused them to open wider in observation. Her brow wrinkled as she seemed to formulate her words with care.
It was his chance for silence. With a heavy sigh, he pushed off of the door enough to close the distance between them. With the care, the familiarity of a lover, he gently reached out then to swipe the streak of soot from her skin from where it’d been deposited earlier. “You never asked. I brought it up.” Any edge to his voice was tempered, calmer. “If you won’t permit me retaliation against her physically, it didn’t seem like a poor option.” Satisfied that the soot was gone, his hand fell away, gloved fingers settling against her arm as if prompting her to meet his eyes. It lingered there a moment, for the traces of a second, before his grip fell more firmly, pulling her against his form. If she’d resist, he’d hold her still. If she truly sought to push away, he’d have dropped his hands. If she lingered, however…
His arms wrapped around her middle, keeping her pressed against his form, his head bowing so his lips hovered against her temple. His breath would tickle the thin skin there, warm, heavy. “I’m not going anywhere, and because of that, I don’t want to have to watch someone I care about fake that… I’d sooner break fingers, bribe, or… many other things, than see you in that position. Consider if the roles were reversed. What would you feel if it were me in your position?” His grip tightened on her, pressing his form against her own in that lingering embrace. Just like that, a wave of warmth flooded through him as he inhaled her scent, drank in her warmth.
It started with a kiss her pressed to her temple, then her cheek, before his lips played huskily at her ear. “Do you understand? Hm?”
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Nov 28, 2017 6:46:43 GMT
A wry smile came to Solara's lips at his question. "Because she's a noble, appearances are everything to people like her. If you had a chance to fix the biggest mistake of your life then wouldn't you? For her, that's me." The content of her words might have been sad but Solara's tone wasn't. She wasn't ashamed of who she was. That was her mother's hangup and not her own. She had crossed the room to stand near him then. Her reluctant words breaking the heavy silence that stretched. After she spoke he didn't reply, not immediately. She was quiet, patient as she could be given the circumstances. It was an odd conversation to have with anyone. Let alone, Connor.
Eventually, he sighed and moved closer. With a surprisingly gentle touch given the words they had just been throwing around he rubbed at her cheek, the mark she wasn't even aware she had. Her head tilted back with a soft laugh. "Not a poor option, you sure know how to sweet talk a woman, commander." Of course they weren't having that sort of conversation. This wasn't an offer born of affection but necessity. His hand fell to her arm but Solara didn't move. Stilled like a deer that knew it had been seen, somehow hoping the danger would pass. She stared up at him with a mix of emotion in her dark eyes. He brought her closer and her first thought was that she shouldn't. She couldn't let herself get distracted, couldn't let him make he more pliant to his words. As much as she trusted Connor she also knew that he was smart and in no way beyond using what he knew about someone to get what he wanted. He didn't get to where he was by being a soft-hearted fool.
Her struggle was momentary and half-hearted. Pulling back she soon found herself leaning into his warmth, her hands moving up to cling to the fabric of his coat. Her eyes fell shut when he leaned in, feeling his warm breath dance across her temple and the feathersoft touch of his lips that sent a tingle down her spine. But his words were evasive, sweet but noncommittal and very much Connor. "I think you already know I would be there for you." She said with a slight shake of her head. He pulled her flush against him and Solara felt her desire surge, the want to feel his skin flush against her own. That closeness. But she wasn't some young woman who could be twisted around his finger just because he gave her a sliver of attention.
She shivered when his lips neared her ear, his low voice rolling over her. Solara didn't speak at first. Instead, she leaned closer, one of her hands rising to cup the back of his neck as she pressed her lips to the delicate skin of his throat. A soft pleasant sigh escaping her lips before she stretched up to mirror his action before. Whispering in his ear. "I understand that instead of talking to me you are trying to distract me." Her opposite hand slipped up the thigh of his pants to where they rested against his stomach. Slender fingers just grazing the skin of his stomach before she suddenly gave him a soft push back.
"This is why I couldn't have a fake marriage with you." She bit her lip and stepped back, her hands dropping away from him to all to her sides. "You couldn't even live with me at the castle....you think my mother wouldn't have spies scoping out my pretend marriage? She sighed. "Its-its fine, really. I am fine. I'm not asking you to care about me or to pretend you do. I know you offered but..." Her lip twisted into a wry smile. "You can't beat every adversary and I can handle this, I'm a big girl." To lighten to mood she tried to joke. "Anyway, a ring might cut into your game. Who would all the ladies at the castle pine after then?"
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Nov 28, 2017 7:34:13 GMT
That was a thought. To go back, to change the biggest mistake of his life? If that was truthfully her mother’s motivation… And yet, for her to ask of him to make such a relation, Connor’s nose actually wrinkled. He did not share the wry look, the smile that she had. His eyes briefly darted to her before fixing again on the floor. Before they closed. They were still closed when he grunted a bitter response. “You can live without having regrets by accepting things and moving on. Perhaps she should try it. I’d go mad living like that.” The irony, of course, being the goading voices that kindled as whispers but which seemed to grow ever the more insistent as time passed. The Commander was a good example of one uncaring enough to having regrets, and without knowing that, she would also be unaware of the impact of beginning to feel repercussions for such actions after they’d brewed for such a long time. Even he didn’t understand the need he was feeling to protect her, to make something right where others had gone very, very wrong…
When she’d come closer, and he had reached to clean the mark that tarnished her skin, the man’s demeanor was somewhat improved. More controlled. Despite her laughter however, he didn’t offer a chuckle. Instead, he met her with a soft sigh and a fleeting eyeroll, before his hand had fallen to her shoulder, and he had drawn her body close. Even in the most joking of context’s, he’d never have assumed he’d mention such a thing. But, here he was.
Fortunately, her protests were short-lived. Rather than insistent pressing against him, or pushing away, she seemed to settle into his embrace. Then came the shaking of her head. Several dark curls tickled the side of his face, his eyes opening a crack before he pressed his jaw against her skin. “No jealousy? No frustration? You know what I mean. Even then, you’re more saintly than I am.”
Distracting… The warmth of her kiss bloomed at his throat like a flower of flame. Simultaneously did it temper his blood as it kindled heat within it. His head didn’t move despite the craving for her flesh that he felt, as her lips moved to hover near his ear. Her mouth was so close that Connor could practically taste it. He wanted that reprieve in that moment, and was just about to turn to capture her, when the teasing touch at his stomach pressed abruptly and separated them a span.
Her words were light, pointing out the flaw in his words with ease, seeking to temper his concerns. But he was not set peace. The heavy sound in the back of his throat was more animalistic than human, something which would’ve better suited a werebeast than a man. It was a sound of mixed desire and rekindling frustration. His hands reached again, gently but insistently holding the fabric to either side of her midsection. “I don’t care about disappointing dissatisfied, horny nobles lazing about the palace. They wouldn’t be so inclined if they knew what you know.” Exhaling, his hands fell away. They moved instead to clasp around the back of his neck, his eyes falling to her. She wasn’t wrong – even he knew he was somewhere an adversary that could likely cause his end. But, Connor also knew that in nearly two and a half millennia he’d yet to cross paths with them. It was also true that, like him, Solara would have her limits.
Slowly, his brows drew together, scrutinizing her, before his words came with a quiet confidence. It made sense. One hand fell forward, a single finger looping through one of her belt loops to keep her from fleeing. To keep her from distancing her proximity. “You don’t want to accept that I care for you. That I would offer such an outrageous thing to try to help you. Why? I’m supposed to be the one who is apathetic, and I don’t even entirely understand why I want to do the things I do.”
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Nov 28, 2017 8:51:04 GMT
Jealousy. What a strange feeling it was. She hadn’t a reason to be jealous. One night stands or the occasional fling were hardly what relationships were made of. But Connor had started as just that, someone who would occupy her bed while on a trip for business. To leave the next day and likely never be seen again. But it hadn’t happened like that with him. He had kept reappearing. And her affection for him had grown. Steadily he had become a true friend. Perhaps even more although Solara wasn’t brave enough to admit it to herself.
She didn’t believe in love. Not anymore. It had been a childish delusion. Of course there was love between family, friends, but loving a significant other was a bitter pill for her to swallow. The last man she had given her heart to had moved on as if she had never existed. If love was something so fickle and weak she wanted no part of it. But now she was starting to wonder if that attachment had been more of a youthful infatuation. The man she wasn’t supposed to care about. It had been exciting, and a way to piss her mother off relentlessly.
So what was love really?
Thinking about Connor dying was terrifying. She didn’t want him to try to track down her mother, to do something stupid and get himself killed. She didn’t want him to marry her on some false premise and make himself miserable. ”I…didn’t say I wouldn’t be jealous.” It was a tight lipped admission. And that was as much as he was getting from her.
Solara hadn’t spoken for a few minutes, letting Connor say his peace. His fingers clung lightly to the fabric of her coat before he released her entirely. He folded his hands behind his head, obviously caught up in his thoughts. ”You could always do what you did with me, you know, move them in. Hope they don’t die.” One side of her lips pulled into mirthless smile. His hand moved out to snag one of her belt loops and Solara looked down at his hand in silence as he spoke. She tensed and immediately started to back away, her hips held in place by the little hold he had on her. Of course he knew her well enough to know she would try to escape.
Solara licked her dry lips, picked at some lint on her coat, pulled a tiny fragment of leaf from her hair, and scuffed her boot on the floor. Anything but answer his question. Why? You couldn’t just ask people that. He should know that. He had evaded her so swiftly earlier that she felt like doing the same. But perhaps if she wanted Connor to just leave her be to her misery the easiest way would be to speak what she truly felt. Surely that would send him running for the hills. But the thought of being lain bare was something she feared. The possibility of losing this friendship she depended on so much even if she would deny that she needed him.
”Because I don’t want you to regret ‘me’.” She didn’t look up at him when she spoke but one of her hands fell to curl her fingers around his that held her so loosely but like an anchor all the same. ”Because I care about you more than I’m comfortable with, and if we were-“ She sighed and released his hand, rubbing her face with both of hers to hide the crimson of her cheeks. How dare he put her on the spot like this? ”-if we were together I wouldn’t want it to be pretend.” She cleared her throat and tried to step back again, fully expecting him to release her after that little nugget of truth.
”I can pretend around everyone else but I never want to pretend with you.” She hated feeling so vulnerable. ”Now do you understand?” She asked quietly, still looking away she crossed her arms for some measure of a shield between them. It was Connor she was speaking with after all. He was evasive as hell but he had promised not to lie to her. The truth was likely going to hurt like hell. Or he would be silent. Neither of those were comforting thoughts.
”My plan is easier and there is less chance of loss. I can stomach fucking someone I don’t want to. I can’t, however, handle the possibility of losing my closest friend because I was a fool.”
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Dec 1, 2017 5:27:35 GMT
The tense, tight-lipped comment which escaped her might’ve caused him a cocky smile were he not entirely convinced that she sought to follow through in the situation. The frustration, knowing that in spite of the admission, caused his lips to instead press together, their corners the slightest bit downturned. To speak right then, to call her out on the churning feeling writhing around his gut at the thought of her being handled by any of the pretentious royals he was forced to protect… No, it slipped out before Connor could silence himself. “Then understand how I feel.”
His breaths were a little more laborious than he might’ve liked following his speech, and his little remark. Once his hands had settled at the back of his neck, his eyes lingered on her. Again, his lips downturned at the corners, this time with the appearance of Solara’s mirthless smile. He wanted to turn away at that, not hurt in the way someone who was more sensitive might’ve been, but irritated. It wasn’t undeserved, he knew, but not a point he wanted twisted back on him. As for the idea itself? Well, they’d seen how that had worked out with her. She had never witnessed the other extreme. Twisting, writhing bodies, choked, spewing bile, before their bodies grew rigid, and then cold. His fingers tensed slightly, pressing firmly against the bones of his spinal column beneath the skin of his nape. “No. Nor would I even if I wanted to expedite my resignation, thank you.” His tone was actually a little cold, less amused. And then he’d sought to goad her, try to brush off the ill feeling in favor of desiring the heat of her touch again. His grip was tight on her belt-loop, unyielding even as she grew silent. His eyes lingered on her as she practically twitched beneath his touch, licking her lips, plucking fiber from her coat. Even brushing stray leaf he hadn’t spied before in her hair.
Solara’s words came as if a small damn had burst. Her touch felt to his hand, then retreated. His brows drew slightly, a look of confusion briefly crossing his features as she rubbed her face. Perhaps that subtle attempt at hiding was a mercy, because when she continued speaking, any trace of emotion might as well have disappeared from his face.
It was, in that moment, as if he were playing a game of poker with the entire contents of every treasury in Oedir lain out before him as a wager.
Impassioned murmurs, empty promises, sweet nothings – he had heard or been equally as guilty of offering such things. Never before had he been the recipient of words such as her own, carrying within a type of veiled admission of… legitimacy. What was her reasoning? Her intention, in sharing such a thing? How could she when she still knew so little of the reservoir of blood damned away behind his past, which could at any moment threaten to burst forward? Knew of the power that could kill her without his intent? Then there was the separate matter of his gross absence of any such experience with feeling a kindling of anything similar for himself.
It was her backward movement, and attempted escape, that roused him from his thoughts. His grip did not waver from her belt loop, though he found himself following the movement rather than restricting her to the same place. Connor’s eyes lidded slightly, falling to look at the place where his finger remained linked with the fabric. What was it he wanted from her? What was the compulsion that had driven him to the Naihan mountains of all places, twice now, to help her? The feeling that made him want to strike out for the blood of any that sought to hurt her. That caused such disgust at the idea of her being with others. That had spurred such passion, such relief, at knowing that she knew him beyond his façade at court, aware and yet accepting of his power. A small notch formed between his brows, his eyes finally moving to study her face as if he hadn’t seen her for some time.
“I don’t have any experience to claim to understand.” The words were reserved. Punctuated, clear. Exhaling, then clearing his throat, he continued, then meeting her eyes. However, his face reflected the absence of expression of a high stakes poker game, or one of the critical stages of a game of chess. “I’ve never… felt… the way I do now. Never experienced a draw like I have toward you. Never once before.” His head tilted, grip finally shifting such that he caught the same belt loop about her other side with his opposite hand. The reasoning? Well, most had died. He had never cared to seriously pursue anything, and never had he cared to share the burden of his power. More carefully measured words followed. “I think... Is that like your feeling? I want to protect you because of my choice, not because of obligation, like with the King, or my family. I don't want some vindictive, spiteful woman to prevent me from doing that.”
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Dec 1, 2017 7:26:28 GMT
“Then understand how I feel.” It was a strange feeling of excitement tinged with fear at the admission. He felt…something. But what it might be was still a mystery. Neither of the two were known to be the type to settle down. Solara’s partners didn’t meet an accidental untimely death, however. It seemed a strange twist of fate that she would feel the strange flux of emotion for someone whose very touch could bring her death. But if it went with the story of her life it was almost fitting. Another twist, another turn, another challenge. She didn’t follow his statement with a comment of her own and let it linger as a question in the air.
What do you feel?
Solara was aware that her words about his ability were less than welcome, the shift in his posture not a pleasant one. But that was the purpose, to push him away. Again the immortal woman didn’t speak. Her dark eyes closing in thought before opening again. She didn’t like this pressure. This discomfort in her chest. It was suffocating, worrisome. She liked being in control but she couldn’t control any of this, not her own emotions, not his, not what he might do. She steeled herself for Connor’s denial, ready for him to either be blunt or try to nicely state that she was barking up the wrong tree.
Solara hadn’t any intention of acting on these strange feelings that had haunted her. She wasn’t so brave, foolish, or bold. Perhaps it was the due date of her own death that made her bold, or the desire to push Connor away so he didn’t face a similar fate. After she had blurted out a tangled, painful admission she risked a glance at his face. And in those handsome familiar features she didn’t find understanding or even pity but a blank emotionless mask that made her throat clench painfully.
She had made a miscalculation. He wouldn’t even look her in the eye. She felt weak and vulnerable, exposed like a snake just after shed. Any little thing could rip her to pieces. Anyone. ”Connor I-“ She started to tell him not to say anything, not to coddle her. But the words died in her throat and the normally outspoken immortal woman lapsed into a tense silence with a frown tugging at her lips. This feeling in her chest, like she was being torn apart from the inside while he watched. This was why she hated even the idea of ‘love’. Her dark eyes reluctantly moved upward to see that he had finally looked at her and this time it was Solara who had the good sense to look away. Her gaze falling lower to settle on his chest as she focused on breathing slowly.
His words came hesitantly, unsure. For once Connor not sounding as if he were in complete control and had all the answers. He sounded almost vulnerable and that, for her, was frightening. ”I…” She couldn’t find the words to say ”Yes…yes that’s what its like.” Or rather she couldn’t bring herself to say them. She stared down at where his hands now held each of her hips by her belt loops. She licked her dry lips, desperate for a drink right then. Anything to break the tension. She closed her eyes slowly reached her arms around him to let her arms hang loosely. A long soft sigh permeating the pregnant silence before she moved. Stretching upward to claim his lips with a hunger that would go unvoiced. And then she pulled away, this time not stopping even if he hadn’t released his hold. More determined to escape. She had to force herself not to crumble under what she was about to say. Her dark eyes suddenly flicked upward to lock on Connor’s face. Studying the look of him now, as he stood vulnerable before she threw a blow that would surely hurt her as much as him.
”You can’t protect me, Connor. It-it doesn't even matter because you aren’t of noble blood. You are not an option for me. And what either of us might or might not feel doesn't matter.” She didn’t believe those cold hurtful words, not for a moment. But knowing he cared gave her even more reason to protect him. Even if that meant hurting him herself, he would be alive. Tears filled her eyes but she refused to let them fall, blinking furiously to keep them held back she spoke. ”And you need to let me leave.” It hurt. It hurt more than being kicked in the gut. More than her mother’s betrayal. But she was determined, she had a reason not to give in and that was keeping him safe. She lifted her chin in an almost typical noble snotty move. Trying to drive the message home. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Her voice softer, nearly breaking although she didn't allow it too.
Why didn't he just let her go before all of this came out? Before she was foolish enough to tell him and needy enough to want to hear it back. Before the foolish part of her that wanted something more than a one night stand surfaced and threatened to pull her under. She didn't know exactly what she felt for Connor, but she knew she wanted more and more of him. That she craved him like a craving she couldn't place, a need she didn't even know she had. That even though he could kill her with nothing more than a touch she kept going back for more. In less than a year he had become an integral part of her, an arm or a leg. Just imagining him gone left her with phantom pains of regret. But gone was better than dead.
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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 Dec 1, 2017 19:15:48 GMT
Her lips found his with a kind of passion that answered his question. His own responded in kind, warm, almost thinking that they might resume where they’d loft off. But then, she pulled back, stepping away so abruptly that he released her. His brows drew together, expression reflecting a mixture of concentration and confusion. You can’t protect me, Connor. It-it doesn't even matter because you aren’t of noble blood. You are not an option for me. And what either of us might or might not feel doesn't matter.
What he felt was confirmed. Something real. And yet, she was withdrawing. Pulling away. Her eyes glazed over – moisture very close to spilling and yet stubbornly refusing to fall.
No flinching, no anger – the expressionlessness lingered on his features as he processed her words – including her insistence on leaving, and her cracking tone. A familiar voice, soft, cynical, and feminine echoed in his thoughts, ’You are sick and she can tell.’ Goading, trying to gain a reaction. Trying to make him lash out at her. Slowly, he shook his head. Even as his jaw clenched against the impulse, he couldn’t stop his own humorless chuckle. “Do you even make sense to yourself right now?”
The look falling away, he stared down at her despite the thrust of her chin. His eyes reflected emotion, the only hint on his face, but it was crystalline – very much a reflection of his own status. He knew her well enough to see the faults in her arguments. The ridiculousness. That knowledge, that thread of control, allowed his voice to sweep with a level confidence even as he found a small tremor trailing through his flesh. That shaking - it were almost as if his mind were detached from the body it controlled. His hands closed around themselves in an attempt to still those tremors. “You don’t give a shit about titles. And you know as well as I do that our pathetic aristocracy of nobles would fall to pieces without people like me allowing our survival. If my status really were that big of an issue, noblewomen wouldn’t seek to sully their names with me.” Offhanded, a kind of barb? Certainly.
Another compulsion brought him forward, eyes falling to her boot where the hilt of her knife lingered. His movement was swift, his body quickly leaning, his fingers touching not her, but clasping around the end of the handle. Plucking it from her boot, rising, the Commander’s grip twisted. The blade was clasped between them, tremoring with his grip as he suspended it in the air between them. “Do you really think you can defend yourself against an archer with this? A sword? Alone?” Flicking his wrist, he cast the thing downward. With a solid thunk, the blade splintered the boards to the floor at their side, sticking upright.
Connor’s jaw tightened against his words. Against the reaction to his actions.. No, Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. He moved, shifting his weight back to his opposite leg then. Had her mother really incited such a reaction? It was as if Solara were a puppet, playing in precisely to what the unseen woman demanded, even as she disregarded his own words. He could plainly see how upset she was. And yet, she wasn’t listening. Wasn’t hearing and weighing his words. Much had happened to bring her there. He wanted to press, wanted to push for a resolution… And yet, the voice lingered, whispering. Goading.
There was an imbalance, an insecurity, which flared within him in response to the voice.Had he been wrong in sharing? Had he been wrong in telling her of his power? Would she threaten to oust him, given this illogical, emotional tantrum she had? Maybe. No, he saw the possibility, even if it came from a place of cautious paranoia. She would if she thought it’d keep him safe, eliminate his capability of seeking the woman out to kill her. Even if he hadn’t thought of it herself yet.
He wouldn’t give her the chance – wouldn’t permit a victory on that front, even if she had won on her terms right then. He would find a way to anticipate her next steps. That thought brought him to the present again, grounded him in those moments.
Slowly, he exhaled. With another step back, he brought his other foot beneath him. His hands slipped behind his back, loosely coming together with the type of militaristic precision he displayed with meetings with Justus and the very royals she spoke of. His expression, his eyes kindling with burning emotion, fell away from her face, regarding the floor. “Neither of us will leave while we are in pack territory, nor while we are in pursuit of your animals.” His head bowed curtly. “I’m to walk the perimeter outside, Lady Ell Polst.” It was similar to his demeanor back on the farm, the first time they’d met – reserved, aloof.
Space. He needed space, to step outside, to breathe – to consider what seemed so likely to happen, and how to handle it. With a quick pivot, he turned. With his back was to her, broad shoulders clad comfortable in his coat, Connor brought open the door and quickly shut behind him with a soft click before she could respond.
The darkness, the heavy moisture and cold of the forest, enveloped him. His vision quickly adjusted as he strode into the evening’s embrace.
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Post by Solara Ell Polst on Dec 1, 2017 20:58:05 GMT
“Do you even make sense to yourself right now?” This was the side to Connor that Solara had never suffered herself. The way he masked what he felt so effectively and only allowed what he wanted to escape was enviable. But it was also frustrating. She didn’t answer him. He was intelligent, possibly more so than she. She had watched the turnings of thoughts behind his dark eyes before. The drawn out plans in which he could work out every possibility without batting an eye.
Solara was much less in control. Prone to anger quickly. But tears were not something she allowed herself, especially not when she was attempting to be the very person she hated. She had never been someone who thought she was better because she carried some blue blood name. It meant little beyond the fact that her family tree should have branched a little wider. But if she was to do as her mother instructed she needed to act as if she did. If she wanted to anger Connor enough that he stopped wanting to help her then she needed to keep edging that line despite the bitter taste it left on her tongue.
She fought to keep her face smooth when he spoke, trying to not let him see how difficult the words were for her to say. The thoughts that were not her own. If my status really were that big of an issue, noblewomen wouldn’t seek to sully their names with me. Solara’s dark eyes bored into him then, her throat clenching around the words that she had to say. ”Yes well, we all make mistakes.” Solara felt as if she could be sick. This…this person, wasn’t her. He was right in that she had no stock in titles such as noble. Because they meant nothing. Solara had been drawn to him because he was different. Because there was something about him that she had needed, and still did. Maybe it was because he was one of the few people who wouldn’t back down when they butted heads. But moments like now when they were trading lashes she wished he would just give in.
He stepped toward her and the immortal vixen felt herself wanting him to just take her in his arms. To force these horrible thoughts away with the urgent press of his lips. To calm her scattered mind with his body. But no. He knelt down to pull the small knife free from her boot. Solara looked up at him when he pulled it free, her dark eyes challenging him. ”I think you underestimate me.” She said stiffly. No, of course she couldn’t defend herself with a tiny little blade. But she wasn’t about to concede even that small battle.
The commander distanced himself from her physically and Solara felt a shiver roll over her. Suddenly feeling very alone in the world. His statement made her flinch. Her gaze flicking up to his face, he was doing it on purpose. Saying things he knew would bother her just as she did to him. But she had a goal, a purpose. Did he have a reason other than to just trade blows? Before she could speak he was gone. Leaving his words as a smarting parting message. Solara sighed once the door was closed, her shoulders that had been held so rigid slumped forward.
Was she doing the right thing? She could tell she was hurting him. But she had to keep telling herself that it was for the best. That it was better he hate her and be alive than care for her and find himself skewered on a blade. ”I’m sorry.” She whispered, allowing herself no more emotion than that.
Solara stoked the fire and prepared for sleep, they would have a busy day. Plus…it would be easier to pretend she was sleeping when Connor returned than exchange more hurtful words. Solara eventually slipped beneath the blankets of the simple bed. Her stomach painfully empty but feeling as if it would expel anything she tried to eat. It wasn’t as if she had carried food anyway. This should have been a simple enough endeavor. Her mother had very quickly shot that idea straight to hell. …. After a restless night of tossing and turning Solara fell into a fretful sleep. When she awoke Connor still hadn’t returned. It worried her, for a moment she considered that he might have attempted to go after the horses alone but a glance outside calmed her. He was still here, he just didn’t want to be near her. She couldn’t hold that against him. Solara gathered her things from inside the cabin, using the tiny shovel she tossed ash over the fire that sat in the hearth. When she strode outside she revealed none of the thoughts that swirled in her mind, looking cold and collected. Her dark eyes roamed over him briefly before she set to her stallion. Arranging her belongings back on the saddle before hefting it onto his back.
”Sleep well, Commander?” She asked in offhand way like one might ask a stranger how the weather was. How their child whom you had never met, was doing. He was far from a stranger but this was how it had to be now. She stuck her boot into the stirrup and with a soft grunt lifted herself into her saddle. ”I trust you are returning to Imfala? It is morning now, our departure should be expected by the pack.”
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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 Dec 2, 2017 3:02:08 GMT
He'd spent the night in solitude outside of the tiny cabin. When he'd grown cold, he'd slipped in only briefly to retrieve his pack - not disturbing her sleeping form. Having layered up, unwilling to make a fire that would upset the Weres, he had settled himself with his back against the door, and nodded off. The look on her face, the snide remark of mistakes... Her comment about being underestimated. None of it made any sense. It was as if the woman, the note, had short-circuited the Immortal woman’s brain. For them to have worked together would have been one thing, but either of them striking off on their own way? She was sorely ill-prepared for someone who had already demonstrated such ruthlessness. To kill without motive was one thing, but that woman had already demonstrated that she had a purpose in mind. That was entirely a different beast, and a dangerous one. Connor knew that to satiate her would be one solution, as Solara sought to. However, he also knew of the more perverse truth: regardless of if the woman was satisfied temporarily, she likely wouldn't continue to be. That was the truth of the humans, and also of their people, regardless of how they liked to fancy themselves as different. Enough was never enough. It was only a matter of time before she twisted the cables which seemed to so responsively compel her daughter.
Then there was the matter he'd been honest, and she had thrown it back in his face. There was an uncertainty, a discomfort that arose from the cynical female voice – among the others – in his mind in response to that. Solara had the power to wield a proverbial guillotine. And if she was already behaving in an unrelenting, unpredictable way… When his sleep finally deepened, that lingering thought had lead into visions while he slept - mounds of bodies, mostly women, covered in blood and bile. They reached for him, limbs in a tangle around one another, as he strode by. Some wailed, others hissed his name. Regardless of how far he walked, however, there were more, and more, and more... The acrid scent of rot permeated his nostrils much as it had when he and Niera had discovered the tunnel back near their kingdom. It seemed to go on forever.
Had he a weaker stomach, he might've thrown up when he finally awoke. Instead, he was met with the earliest dawn light through the trees. Removing his hands from his pockets, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes on the backs of his hands before shifting on his feet to stand. His back cracked uncomfortably at first, the muscles displeased with the sleeping arrangement. It was not the worst in his long lifetime, though, and with bigger issues to attend, he paid little mind to it.
He went about that morning replacing his things in their proper places on the saddle, shaving, retrieving water for the horses, and making a request when he called out for one of Alvina’s posted sentry’s nearby. A ration could wait until travel began for the day.
Connor was just finishing checking his mare’s hooves when Solara emerged from the cabin. Above, the soft smoke had entirely disappeared from the chimney. For the briefest of moments, he half-expected her tone to have shifted. When her voice came in such an offhand way, however, he schooled his expression. If she wanted to play it off in such a way, to treat him as a mistake in her conquest for heroics, so be it.
“Well enough. I trust you slept soundly.” His response was short but polite – the same small talk he’d offer to a royal he really had no intention of speaking with. Patting his mare’s neck, a quick grab of the saddle horn and hook of his foot in the stirrup allowed him to settle astride her. His gloved fingers settled with the reins in hand when the sound of her grunt caught his attention. He reined his mare so he might regard her fully just as the words sounded in his ears.
He wanted to smirk, but instead met her with a more grave look. “Actually I’ve asked that the pack begin escorting you back. I will catch up once I’ve seen to the business I came here for. Someone should be here soon to take you – I apologize for my oversight in bringing you here in the first place... But this is no place for a Lady, Ms Ell Polst.” Was it overkill? Probably. But he wanted to see a reaction from her.
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