As soon as the applause had died down in the great theater of Andaris, Rafael turned his head 'round to face Skyrider Elyna. During the few ocassions he'd spent time with her in training, she'd been dressed far differently. Now wrapped up in a deep-red velvet dress, she was a different woman entirely although, she betrayed herself with those rolled up sleeves. Always at the ready. No doubt the result of many arcs spent in service of the Iron Hand.
He scowled at her, his lips set into a grim line and his eyes gleaming with distaste. The people seated to her right were still chatting, and so the only way out of her seat and off the balcony would be to pass him, but he remained seated. She could squirm and shuffle in her seat all she wanted, she could pretend not to notice him, but sooner or later she would have to rise from her seat and either suffer the embarassement of squeezing past a whole line of seats, or adress the irritated child next to her. And for every trill she waited, the discomfort would only grown and fester until it became too unbearable to ignore.
In the meantime, Rafael bit down on his lower lip and wondered where to start his interrogation. Perhaps he ought to start with the fact that he'd found out about her noble birth, or perhaps he should start by holding her accountable for the murder of her own uncle. In the end only the most pressing question rolled of his tongue, and when he spoke his voice was harsh, terse, and riddled with contempt.
"Where were you?"
Last edited by Rafael Warrick on Wed Nov 30, 2016 7:43 pm, edited 2 times in total. word count: 282
The Skyrider had been mesmerised by the music and then by the play. She struggled at points to discern what was said but the body language of the actors told the story so clearly that even a wine-fogged brain could discern it. Her glass of wine had been emptied and then delightfully refilled without her noticing or raising a hand. Finally the chords were struck and the curtain fell on the first act. The woman had curled her hand around the balcony, gripping it for balance as she was swept away on the tide of the story.
The Andaris family to her side were engrossed in their own conversation and determined attempt to ignore and exclude her. For which she was grateful. So she leant back and took another measured sip of the Venoran tipple and slowly relaxed. Finally turning to the young man who had taken a seat beside her. She blinked, mouth falling open at his blunt address. Dark eyes widened in surprise and delight at seeing Rafael of all people before her, before guilt crossed her features. She’d been able to do so little to find him, after his own disappearance.
“Rafael!” She exclaimed before she could stop herself. She wanted to throw her arms around the boy and hug him and ensure that he was real and truly there. The look on his face however, was a warning that he was not to be hugged, or cuddled or fussed over. He was not a child, but a man.
He had asked her a question. The delight fled from her features and left her cold. As though she forgot where they were entirely. The hum and exciting buzz of the theatre slipping away. Elyna swallowed and searched his expression, “I could ask the same of you…” she replied. She was supposed to be the more mature of the pair of them though and so, she let out a slow breath. He deserved an answer.
“I went to Burhan as you know,” she dropped her voice, “and I was held against my will.” She considered the rest of her words carefully. This was really not an appropriate time to have this discussion and she frowned. There were so many ridiculous rumours around already. Would someone overhear them and use the truth as fuel for more? “I couldn’t contact you Rafael and for that I am sorry. When I was able to return the city was in chaos…and I couldn’t find a trace of you either.”
He shrunk a little at her boisterous exclamation, not in the least because a tinge of alcohol accompanied her breath. His eyes flitted downward towards the glass of wine in her hand. After this was done and over with, he wouldn't mind a refreshment himself. Perhaps two, if it would come to a shouting match. Straightening up in his seat, in a futile attempt to look taller, his stormy eyes returned towards the Lady that had spoiled his night out.
An odd pleasure washed over him as he watched her delight peter out. He wanted to see guilt upon those delicate features, he wanted her to hang her head in defeat, he wanted her to say sorry and-
-She caught him off guard. During the entirety of the play he'd mulled over various scenarios in his head, trying to anticipate anything that Elyna might throw at him, and yet, he'd failed to prepare a good answer. Frankly, there wasn't one. Either he could betray Labrae's trust and tell Elyna the truth, or he could conjure up a lie and be done with it. Of course, Malcolm knew where he had been...strange then that she didn't seem to know yet. Now that he thought about it, he didn't see Malcolm anywhere nearby. If the two were no longer married that would be-
Shocking.
Scandalous.
Strange...
But before he could ask, she challenged him in return. His nails dug deeper and deeper into the seat's armrest as he wrecked his mind for a rebuttal. And then it struck him.
Why answer?
His shoulders slackened a little as he exhaled through his nose. "Who held you? Why? For how long?" While some of his annoyance had ebbed away, his voice was still demanding. "Was it your uncle perhaps?" he sneered, "is that why you murdered him?"
In truth, he wasn't sure if the rumors were true, but he had a hunch he was about to find out.
Last edited by Rafael Warrick on Wed Nov 30, 2016 7:45 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 336
His reaction to recoil was expected and the young woman was glad she had managed to restrain herself. She curled both hands around the stem of the wine glass and studied him. Had the boy changed since they’d last met? He seemed a little wiser or less forthcoming. Or maybe the person who had truly matured was herself. Strange that she felt more adrift now than she had a few years previously. Everything was precarious and balanced on the edge of a blade. Not least the strained conversation with the boy she’d once sworn to take under her wing.
He seemed to pause in his answer before countering with further questions. Head tilted to the side, Elyna considered him again. He was truly angry and upset and also…she took another sip of wine to steady her thoughts and hands before she lent forward. Keeping her voice low she did her best to avoid other’s hearing, “yes, by agents of my Uncle, until I killed him,” she replied with the simple truth. “From the day I landed in Burhan until the end of Sa’un. I think,” she frowned as she made the admission, “that they nearly killed me, they almost killed my baby.” Would Rafeal know about the pregnancy? Probably not, she hadn’t told anyone before she’d left for Burhan. It was unlikely he’d found out through any other means since they’d both returned from their respective absences.
His sneer troubled her and her gaze narrowed as she concentrated on her words, “would you have killed your Uncle, Rafael? If it could have saved a million lives? If it was the blood sacrifice you made for your own freedom?” She pinned him, refusing to break eye contact. A technique she’d learnt from her own Captain.
It was a slight miracle that his seat hadn't caught fire as Rafael continued to seeth and smolder. Elyna's apparent calm, a quality he'd often admired in her, only fueled his resentment towards her. Did she not care? He had half a mind to pry the elegant wine glass from her elegant fingers and splash the contents, elegantly, over her precious dress.
No matter how much the Burhan noble annoyed him, he had to credit her for answering him outright. Her answers were brief and to the point, and Rafael had no trouble filling in the blanks in his head. The honored Skyrider bedore him had endured torture no doubt, and here he was making a stink about her absence. A wave of guilt passed over him as he eased up for the second time, and this time the change lasted. Rafael lowered his head in defeat and tore his gaze from Elyna's, she had an intense stare, as though she saw right through him.
A few trills of heavy silence passed between them before Rafael stirred again. He shifted uneasily in his seat and alternated between balling his hands to fists and rubbing his hands together anxiously.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled under his breath. "I didn't know." The idea that Elyna had given birth to a child, presumably Malcolm's, sent his mind reeling. He should be happy for her, but he wasn't. All he could think of was how yet again, she had withheld information from him.
His eyes were like the color of dreary rainclouds rolling over the plains of Warrick on a midday in late Vhalar: stormy, and with darker clouds brooding in the distance, as he looked back at her.
"I could never do what you did," he answered her question as much as he dodged it.
Growing tired of their tense conversation, Rafael proceeded to do something remarkable and stood up from his seat, granting Elyna a way out if she so desired. For the first time, a faint, slanted smile broke through. "Just a moment," he excused himself.
A few bits later he returned with a bottle of amaretto, a sweet but strong drink, and two matching glasses. "What do you say? We could do with a little more trust between us, wouldn't you agree? Let's forget all this unpleasantness and start over..." His voice was far gentler now, as if he'd already completely forgotten about their conversation just moments ago. "To your child," he raised his glass and handed her the other, "what is he- uh, it called?"
He remained angry and the woman could only watch the emotions playing out over his face. Still, he gave no answer and left her curious. Head tilted to the one side before his own head bowed. The technique had worked, she had stared him down. The woman swallowed and allowed herself a moment of pride. As a new captain she was worried about leading troops and whether they would respect her authority. The assumed authority. What if they called her out as a fraud? Rafeal’s acceptance of her answer eased some of the worry.
“There wasn’t really much time to tell you anything,” she admitted, “about the baby,” he hadn’t reacted to the news but then, as a young man she doubted the prospect of settling down and starting a family was high on his list of priorities, “we didn’t tell anyone about the pregnancy, Rafael,” she read between the unspoken lines of his sullen silence, “then when I was being sent to Burhan it would have been dangerous for anyone to learn and then…” the woman let out a slow breath, “and none of it matters anymore really. There are a lot of decisions that I would change and there are still a lot of mistakes to unpick,” and wounds to heal. She ran a fingertip along the line of her neck. It was still amazing to her, to touch the tender skin without experiencing pain.
"I could never do what you did," he answered her question as much as he dodged it.
The woman lifted a shoulder in another shrug. Maybe he would have, maybe he wouldn’t. She hoped that he’d never have to make a similar choice between blood or country.
He slipped through the crowd with a brief smile and amusement crossed her features as he returned. Was he old enough to drink? The glass was accepted and lifted in turn, “Elsie,” she replied with a grin, “she’s called Elsie Adele,” she took a sip of the liquid, savouring the sweet almond liquor.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” she glanced at the stage. It looked as though preparations were being made for the second act, “where you were, or what you were doing?”
"Nope," he answered promptly, "but a few more of these," he lifted his glass, "and I just might." The liquor burned in his throat as he downed the whole glass in a single go before pouring himself another. "To be honest, I am surprised Malcolm didn't tell you yet." The remark served another purpose, he was curious why Malcolm hadn't accompanied Elyna to the play and suspected that there were some problems between the two. "But why wouldn't he? Maybe it's such a dull story that it isn't worth telling." He frowned momentarily as he recalled the horrors he had witnessed in Ne'haer. Best not to dwell on it. He promptly poured himself another glass, while the previous one started to take effect. He slumped back further in his seat as his eyes grew dull and hazy.
He thought he caught a flash of concern and surprise, perhaps both, on Elyna's face at his nonchalant drinking manners and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry, I don't usually drink, but if I have to suffer through a whole more hour of this nonsense," he glanced at the stage. "I might need a second bottle."
A few trills later saw his glass almost slipping from his fingers. For all his bravado, he clearly wasn't used to stomaching such large amounts of liquor, and it was starting to show. Instead of opening up and blurting foolish things, the opposite effect seemed to take place. Rafael retreated deep into his mind and averted his gaze from Elyna. She had a right to know, the better part of his mind argued, but he couldn't bring himself to confess the truth, or even half the truth to her. It all seemed so foolish in retrospect, how he had went with Labrae on a whim. Perhaps it was because she had given him a purpose, one that he'd lacked under Malcolm and Elyna's tutelage. The urge to leave struck him like lightning and he practically jumped up from his seat.
"I've got to go," he slurred, "uh water the plants..." and started to make his way out of the theater at an ever increasing pace.
The woman held back her warning on the use of liquor. It would’ve been hypocritical of her, really. However she’d had arcs of experience with spirits. Drowning her sorrows, blocking out the rest of the world. The words held on her tongue and she paused. Choosing instead to lift her own drink and take a larger sip. She enjoyed the taste although it wasn’t something she often chose to indulge in. Usually she preferred ales or simpler alcohol but she’d accepted the free wine at the theatre and it probably made a better combination with the liquor Raf had presented her with.
He wasn’t going to tell her and she let back in her seat. Reluctant to put pressure on him, afraid that too much would break open a lock. She wasn’t prepared to deal with the consequences of that. Her own footing was unstable. Why wouldn’t Malcolm have told her? Another reason to stay quiet. Because she and Malcolm weren’t exactly talking freely. They were barely talking at all. At least though, they were sharing a bed. Kind of.
“I’m enjoying the play,” she admitted. However, she wasn’t surprised that a young man with a short attention span might be struggling. At least he was doing his noble duty she supposed. He seemed to slump, the alcohol hitting his belly and she held back a smile. Her own stomach lined with years of abuse. It would take a lot to drink her under the table.
Then he stood and left her agap, shocked as he made his way towards the edge and vanished behind the rows. The woman considered giving chase but remained, for once, in her seat. He didn’t want to talk to her. Not now, which is why he’d left. His tongue had been loosened with liquor though, and what if he was hurt or attacked?
No. She told herself and turned back to the play. There would be time to speak to the Squire, one his terms. To reach the root of what troubled him. "Safe journey," she murmured after him.
Elyna: Captive in Burhan
Elyna: Mother
Elyna's Child: Elsie Adele
Extras
Loot & Losses
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Injuries
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Fame
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Devotion
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Comments
Not loads to give here, but it was a nice little thread. So many social threads with people catching up, it's a good break from all the drama of the previous seasons!
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Thank ye.
