Shared Borders

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Keavy Villiers

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    knife wife
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    13 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #15 on: January 03, 2019, 12:48:11 AM »

One eyebrow quirking up Keavy snorted shortly at his choice of words. Mingle he said as if their raids were some soiree. How could the image of warlords and warlord princes mingling on boats as they headed for distant coast lines not amuse her? They must not have been friends if he felt no loss.

Or maybe he just wasn’t listening. Sucking on her bottom lip Keavy shrugged it away. His attention clearly elsewhere. Puttering around her kitchen until he picked a spot to settle. Staring blankly at her while she carefully measured salt onto her palms. The cleaned rabbits taken from the cupboard to finally be salted down. It would preserve the meat longer than she could with Craft.

When she spoke again it was without thought. Words not entirely intended for her husband. Shoulders rising up to her ears she worked the salt into the bared muscle of the unfortunate prey. Michael’s hiss like a noose around her neck. It made her stomach clench in warning. Fingers digging deeper as she listened to his breathing. Stiff pants that made her own chest quick and flitting.

What upset him? She tried to remember the exact words she had just said. Mind turning to mush as the air thickened with his temper. Table drumming as he nearly snarled the question. ”Seeing Eyriens. Or my family, if there are any left. Traveling to finish the work I was doing before you came along. Seeing anything other than the same stretch of grass every damned day.” She was scared of his rage. Not scared enough to cower. He could keep her here, he could drag her back a thousand times, but he couldn’t make her like her fate. Drawing her spine up straight she turned the rabbit meat over. Letting it smack roughly onto the table’s surface before she started pressing salt into that side too.

She tried to stare him down; glare fierce but brief before she turned it back down. Rabbits tended she wrapped them in paper for storing in the cold box. Head shaking still that Michael would even ask. What would she like to be doing? Living the damned life he had ripped her from! ”Warlord Princes…” She grumbled, turning to run water from the tap over her hands. A bar of soap scrubbing the grit from between her fingers before she rounded on him again. ”Are the whiniest of every caste combined. You know that, Kale? Worked up over a turn of phrase that harms you none! Hissing at me like I took your lolly away.” She dried her hands on a kitchen towel, holding it on one corner as she put her hand on her hip and waited for his apology.

Michael Villiers

    Purple Dusk to Green
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Kayndred

    Corlay Island Raider Captain
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    21 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #16 on: January 03, 2019, 09:50:22 PM »
What do you desire?

Only that which is no more.


Did her people still live? Not if Michael's raiding party had been as thorough as he'd told them to be, but there was always a chance. Irritation warred with a bitter hope. What to do? Go and steal her family? Enslave them? It would fill their house, and sour his knife wife to all future attempts at peace.

Darkness, was there no edge of hers that didn't spark against his?

At least she turned to him unflinchingly, eyes alight and fierce even for a moment. His jaw worked, fingers curling around the table edge. Deep breaths, Michael. Calm. Little waves at low tide. Jungle quiet darkness. Maybe he'd try meditation more seriously after this.

But his anger rose right back up, calming breathes tossed aside.

"And what would you have me do, hmm?" He asked, tilting forward. "Let you roam free on the island? When I'm gone for Darkness knows how long? It's safe here!" Keavy was a spitfire but she was small, even with Kath hair, even with her iron spine, even with jewels just barely dark enough. Maybe it was unreasonable, maybe Michael's apathy for people beyond his sister and his wife ran too deep, but he knew himself, Warlord Princes. Men. Trusted none of them, too. He couldn't build bridges for Keavy if there were monsters on the opposite shore.

And then she turned on him, cocky hip and challenging. "Whiny? Worked up?" He surged away from the table, crowding into her space, looming. His focus narrowed down to Keavy's face, so determined to be against him. "A lolly taken from me? Is that what you think?" His fist slammed into a shelf behind her, arm raised above their heads. He could feel his rage tightening on the words, grinding them down. "You are mine. I took you. You are my priority. If you want to do something interesting," he spat, leaning closer. "I can take you to bed right now."

He ached with his own anger and an ugly kind of want, a softened want, unfit for a killer. Something in him keened and balked at his anger being directed at Keavy, even if he felt she might deserve part of it. Eyes flickering across the little details of her face, he reached up with his opposite hand to hover close to her cheek, wanting to touch but not daring. He felt raw, scraped out. "But Darkness take me if I set you on the island alone."

Keavy Villiers

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    knife wife
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    13 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #17 on: January 04, 2019, 08:58:25 PM »

The effort to keep quiet made Keavy’s eyes water. Lip bruised on the inside with teeth threatened to turn into something more sinister. All the skin on the back of her neck tingling. It would take too long to turn, and who knew what that madman would do while she did. So that urge was suppressed as well. She was a prisoner here and if she wanted to survive to see freedom she had to bend.

Damn the bastard to Hell he made her want to snap though. All the things she wanted to scream in his stupid face scalded her cheeks until they were as red as if he had slapped her. Much as she tried there was just too much fight to stay quiet forever. Or for long. If she made him angry he would leave. Then at least she’d have peace to scream into her pillow until the emptiness went numb again.

As expected her comments were not well received. Chin tipping up she held firm against the differences in their height. And general size. Dwarfed by his broad shoulders. ”That is how you behave.” She accused. Flinching with a snarl of her own as he pounded the shelving behind her. A short stack of folded dish cloths tumbled down. Spared the floor by Keavy’s back as it met the same unit of shelves. Hands clutching one board tight. Fingers aching with the trial of not turning into the same sort of vicious beast she faced.

”Priority!” She scoffed, lip turning up to show a long canine. Longer, perhaps than it should have been. Teeth were easy, though, the quickest to change since there was so little of it needed there. All the anger he buffeted her with crawled down her throat. Into her stomach until it ached with rage. Overpowering her sense, and her fear. A pale hand swinging around, aimed at his cheek. ”You mean prisoner. Because you stole me. That’s why you won't let me ‘roam free’. I’ll never be free. I was living a fine, safe life. In a family where I was loved and respected. Free from everything that might harm me- except for You and your people. So if I’m not safe here then that’s your fucking fault.”

Hardly better than a slave! If he did drag her to bed what could she do but cry about it? He had an island of raiders and she didn’t even know which direction home lay in. Flinching when his hand raised she tucked her chin to her chest and pouted. Yelling drained the worst of her temper and left just the gnawing grief and raw fear. ”You keep speaking of the Darkness that way and she’ll make them true.”

Some days she prayed for it. Some days he made her laugh until her cheeks hurt. Today she was ready to take her knees and say some prayers. The unfairness of it all weighed her to the spot. Shoulders and head so heavy they slumped forward to Michael's chest. She had grown very good at sobbing silently. Dry heaves that made her shoulders rock without a so much as a sound. Teeth gritted together to keep the tears on the inside, where they were better served.

Michael Villiers

    Purple Dusk to Green
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Kayndred

    Corlay Island Raider Captain
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    21 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #18 on: January 13, 2019, 04:08:21 PM »
It was easy to ignore the flash of otherness, the flicker of unease at the way the hairs on the back of his neck raised at the look of his lady wife. It washed away too quickly at her look, at her words. Desperation and frustration warred within him, sharpening his anger. But anger had put them in this place, Michael's anger, and for all he cared of himself most, claiming her had made Keavy part of him.

He'd been negligent. And Michael, for all he hated to self analyze, knew when he was irrefutably wrong. He wasn't dumb, no matter what his knife-edge of a wife might think now and again.

That's how you behave. It wouldn't do to claim it wasn't just him, that the entire island swarmed with people Michael regarded more as simply existing, that he was more likely to grow suspicious of them than trust them with his rope, let alone his house. Never his wife, no matter the jewels she held or how deft she was with a knife.

Here hand connects with his cheek solidly, callouses, different than his own, stinging against his skin. It startled more than it hurt. The last time she'd hit him had been months and months ago, and he'd brushed it off because it was easy, amusement and pleasure at her emotion riding high. Now, it weighed more, even if the action was the same.

"I -", but what? What could be said? He wasn't sorry for stealing her. He didn't regret that action. He was sorry for his actions after, that had let her rage fester. That. That was something he could concede. "am sorry." Oh, wouldn't Perri be proud. Why was growth such a bitter flavor?

His anger sagged as Keavy did, hand dropping from where her cheek had been to graze across her shoulder, both hands drifting down to rest against her ribs. He was at a loss, emotion fading and leaving him empty, tired. Her tirade lodged itself in his chest, prickling thorns of hurt and distrust. You could be more, he longed to say. But asking her if she wanted him to steal her family would only result in more bitterness, more anger.

And what would she do if the Darkness did take him? A captured wife, alone on the island? Little better than a death sentence.

How could his wife be more emotionally trying than the raid that brought her to him?

Swallowing, fingers pressing a little against her back, Michael shifted. Rocked them, just a little. Keeping calm. It was difficult not to drag her, to stay right there in the kitchen, and say, "Come to bed," like it was a question. All he wanted to do was curl up and listen to her breathe.

Keavy Villiers

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    knife wife
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    13 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #19 on: January 15, 2019, 01:43:31 AM »
Sorry! Sorry? That was not what Keavy had anticipated. More yelling. Angry attempts at reasoning that would do nothing to sway her own logic. Their things breaking in a rush of temper. A great ripping fart. She expected literally anything other than what actually came out of his mouth. She scoffed while her mind reeled. The words trying to take root in the pain at the center of her chest. But she was very determined not to let forgiveness bloom. ”Sorry you can’t have your cake and eat it too, perhaps.”

Couldn’t have her and have her wanting to be there. She wouldn’t believe he was sorry for anything other than her anger. She had half a mind to slap him again but what was the point? In the end it was Michael’s way. There were no other options. The harder she pushed, the more she fought, the more her choices were limited. Until he got fed up- then she would be dead. Or until he was satisfied and left her alone again.

His shifting hands made her cross her arms over her chest. Curling in on herself physically and emotionally. Impossibly weary. She could have stood there without moving for hours. Could have outlasted his staring if that was what it took. But Michael didn’t storm off as he was often want to do. He stood there too. Big hands settling around her rib cage. Almost big enough to circle her completely. Like a vice.

When he started to move she turned her face away. Wiping a single spilled tear onto the sleeve of her dress. Letting her lips linger there against the hard bone of her shoulder. Building a short list of excuses to get away. Things that needed mending or minding. But he had other plans. ”Hm.” She sighed without giving a real answer. Feet moving when prompted. If she stuck her head under the pillow maybe he wouldn’t try kissing her. And maybe if she fell asleep quickly she wouldn’t think too much.

Still glum she padded over their bedroom floor. Time bought in small measures. Hair tossed over a shoulder so she could sit on the end of the mattress combing the braid out with her fingers. Invisible lint picked from her skirt. Long minutes so short when you had to do a thing you were in no mood to do. When she finally laid down it was as far from his side of the bed as she could manage. Knees pulled so he could fit too close. Pillow dragged down so she could calm her mind without looking at him. Face a varied mess of emotions while she sought composure- or maybe even consolation- under the cool shadow of her pillowcase.

Michael Villiers

    Purple Dusk to Green
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Kayndred

    Corlay Island Raider Captain
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    21 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #20 on: January 16, 2019, 09:26:30 PM »
It was easy to ignore her parting shot. She had been much more vicious and heated in the past. This was nothing in comparison.

He smothered the irritation at her tears, knowing it'd be just another thorn, an edge turned the wrong way. It wasn't that he hadn't made her cry before. He had. It was that there was something in him, simultaneously soft and prickly, yearning and ugly and unwilling to bend - this same thing wanted to shake her until she snapped at him. At the same time, he wanted to wipe those tears away for her.

Instead of either of those, he trailed behind her on the way to their room. Watched her drag the process out. Not unlike when they'd come home.

Her gloom makes him tired. Moreso. When she curls up, pillow between her and 'his' side of the bed, he pauses. Imagines turning around, leaving. Space. That's a thing other people valued. Perri liked her space when her emotions were high.

He squashed the indecision. He'd been shaken enough that day. As much as his wife meant to him, there was only so much he would allow of himself. And he was tired. Drained. Drawn thin. He would not break, too, in any way.

He sank into their mattress, flat on his back. The pillow beside him shifted as Keavy breathed, although he knew she wasn't asleep.

The silence stretched over them, long minutes ticking down. The ache in his chest persisted. Absently he called the music back out of his cabinet, holding it between his fingers. The feel of it was foreign, as Michael didn't tend to keep knick-knacks. Everything had use, a double purpose. Most to kill, or hurt.

Shifting onto his side, the displaced pillow offered no solace. As forgiving as his lady wife.

"Keavy," he said, low, trying for quiet, not wanting to break their fragile peace. If it could be called that. "Here." He held the trinket out above the pillow, not wanting it to jostle if she decided to emerge and take it.

He hoped she'd take it.

Keavy Villiers

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    knife wife
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    13 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #21 on: January 18, 2019, 06:37:16 PM »

Would he believe she was sleeping? Shutting her eyes tight Keavy tried not to twitch. Breath slowing. Damp from the humidity created with each exhale a small section of her pillowcase sagged. Brushing her lips. Eyelashes bent by the fabric’s nearness too. Her knuckles were rosy, skin so pale that instead of going white they warmed when clutching and clinging.

He might have been fooled. Voice low when he broke the uneasy silence. Keavy elected not to respond. Other than the initial, instinctive response to hold her breath and listen. Letting it out on a sigh she squeezed her eyes closed more fiercely. Schooling her expression into something like passivity. Instead of apathetic she looked annoyed. Lips held in a thin line. Eyes sweeping the trinket in his hand then narrowing.

What was the trick? ”What is that?” She asked. Meaning more, ‘why are you showing it to me?’ The music box was easy to recognize, even in his massive hand. Her own curled deeper against the pillow. Cheek laying on its corner instead of head tucked underneath. Studying his face for answers she waited. Not foolish enough any more to reach for what was not hers. And nothing was really hers these days.

Keavy couldn’t understand why he would offer it to her. Now, especially, when she had done nothing to earn it. Was it so he could have something to take away the next time she slapped him? Eyes locked on his she chewed the inside of her lip. He was being very odd today. ”What have you done? What’s all this about?” Market and a music box… Sounded like some weird sort of buttering up. With a temper tantrum in between.

Had he finally gotten himself one of those proper island wives? Keavy didn’t like the idea one bit. It rose too many variables that she couldn’t account for. And she was honest enough- with herself and herself only- to admit it made her jealous. Someone else in the house. Someone more important that could push her around. Out there wooing some ignorant island chit after he had hauled her to this isolated hell. Not a lick of it was fair and a Paon wife would make it far less fair. Made sense though, she thought, heat rising behind her eyes. Just when she thought she could call her life tolerable he would turn it upside down anew.

Michael Villiers

    Purple Dusk to Green
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Kayndred

    Corlay Island Raider Captain
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    21 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #22 on: January 19, 2019, 12:03:47 AM »
Michael frowned a little at her question. He didn't doubt that she recognized the box, but perhaps it had had a sister trinket and he'd missed it? No, impossible. There'd been only the one at the vendor. Looking between her, or the part of her face that he could see, and the box, he was tempted to say a knife, just to see if she'd take it. Maybe she'd prefer a weapon. Michael knew his knives, after all, and was a regular for several prime vendors on the islands. That was a thought. Equip Keavy with the tools to kill him and see if she actually would. Idiot.

"You picked it up in the market." He said. Felt like even more of an idiot for stating the obvious, because she'd remember that, even if she didn't understand why he had it. "But you didn't buy it." Obviously. Fuck, Darkness, he wanted to roll over and smother himself, save Keavy the trouble of having to wait for him to be asleep. You are the raider Captain of Corlay, and her husband. A Warlord Prince and accomplished raider. Nut up. Trust this woman to find all his soft parts and push.

"I thought my lady wife would appreciate a gift." He said resolutely, trying for the cocky confidence that normally came so naturally. He'd have to talk to Perri later, figure out what exactly was wrong with him that he became like some barbarian coward around his wife when he spent more than fifteen minutes with her. He shifted, wiggling to prop himself up on his opposite arm, palm resting flat on the pillow, box presented.

That she assumed he'd done something sent a wave of irritation down his spine, making his mouth flatten, the heat in her look lifting that wave into an edge. He'd been clearly careless with her, perhaps too much so, if she couldn't see the apology he was trying to give. "Perhaps it is you that have done something." He snipped before he could trim his tongue, and he sighed out his nose explosively. He'd never had to apologize to Perri for anything, but clearly it was necessary now. He should have practiced something before hand, rather than suffer all this nonsense. Maybe just given her another dress. Clothes were practical, and hard to misinterpret.

Breathing deeply, eyes closed, he gripped the feeling of his Green, finding comfort in its depth. He could do this. It was no mark against him to mend fences. People did it all the time. "I have been remiss," he began, trying to imagine that it didn't sound like he'd bit through his own cheek. He was sincere, truly, it was just... he didn't have a word for it. Opening his eyes, he tried to impress that upon her. "I should not have been leaving you alone for so long. I had decided space was what you would desire, and even I was right," and Keavy had certainly made it seem so, "I should have... asked." Even if he would have ignored it, he should have asked. Probably. "We are married, but I have not been a husband. I would like to be." In more than title.

Keavy Villiers

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    knife wife
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    13 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #23 on: January 20, 2019, 11:17:17 PM »

A stark auburn eyebrow rose pointedly, lips drawing tight while she waited for him to keep talking. Clearly they both knew she had picked it up. His next remark was even more obvious. Which made the whole thing more ridiculous. What would I buy it with, Kale?” The few marks she had held onto from before were not for inessentials. Someday her husband would notice the difference in their aging. Or some slip of her own would make him grow suspicious. And if he didn’t rid himself of her then, she would be a widow someday. That money could be the difference between life and death.

Keavy eyed him with increasing suspicion. Not quite sure how to respond. A half dozen questions warred in her mind. Without meaning it to, one popped free. ”Why now?” That was not the way their relationship worked. Even on the good days. He never brought her things that weren’t of practical use. If they had argued first, then sure, it made sense for a man to make up for his pig-headedness with presents. But he had grabbed it- purchased it hopefully- from the market.

Which required some sort of premeditation. Puzzling. The priestess couldn’t see the game in it. So she picked the box up. And vanished it. There! Now he couldn’t take it back, not even to punish her. She would only bring it out when he was gone. The same way she treated her Opal. If he planned to use it against her then he’d made a grave error in handing it over.

”You would damn well know if I had done something.” She sniffed. Turning onto her back because laying on her side while he leaned over her felt an awful lot like showing her neck. She had done enough of that growing up. Always a bigger, stronger, older cousin to be bullied by. Just when she’d finally been free, along came Michael. The injustice was too much to seeth about while he was so close.

What would she do anyway? She never went further than the front gate without him looming at her side. What wrongs could she get away with? Spitting in his sandwiches? He probably wouldn’t care. Burn the house down? Then she’d be stuck in some rented room with him. Or worse, at the temple. Blasphemous hellhole, she couldn’t stomach the place. Not just because it was Perrine’s home, either.

His childish attempt to twist the accusation around was quickly tabled, however. Gritting her teeth she was silenced by the feel of his reach for power. Deeper in the Abyss than Keavy herself but her caste was innately aware of such shifts. Her breath caught in her lungs and she lowered her eyelids as if she would fall asleep. Impassive, mind turned inward. Down into the Darkness. Where she thought she could ride out any outburst. Even if she couldn’t survive it.

What came was not a blast of temper, however. With a level of effort she thought quite ridiculous Michael started speaking. She didn’t blink. Listened still as a cornered mouse. Not really understanding his goal. For a moment after he stopped she remained quiet. Two sides of herself battling to answer. One that would gladly rip his trachea from his throat for reminding her of the vows she’d had no choice in taking. Another that clung to those same words, because they were all the shield she had. He was unfair. All of it was unfair. ”Well. I’m sure you’ll have better luck with the next wife. Seeing as you’ll have no choice but to ask her permission.”

Unless he killed her. Then he could have another stolen bride. Maybe a little stupid one that could lay her sense of self aside. Keavy didn’t know how. She was tired of being sharp edges and painful planes. Tired of feeling trapped. But at the same time she was too stubborn to roll over. No amount of giving into Michael would give her freedom so why bother? ”I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Kale. Space, nearness. It wouldn’t have made a difference.” Exasperation heavy in her tone she threw her hands up towards the ceiling. Letting them fall down again so that they bounced once on the mattress. ”I can’t give you forgiveness. What I desire is to go back to my life. It’s more than just my family. I had dreams and goals. Things I wanted to see and experience. All gone. And you’re laying here saying you’re sorry for not asking if I wanted you here more or not. That’s shit Kale, just shit.”

Dangerous ground. She knew it. Skin prickling up to goosebumps. But some things just had to be said. If he had known her before he took her as his property, then her temper and bluntness would have been expected. ”Being a husband is hard work. You say you’d like to be, but do you really? Can you really? Because part of that is accepting there is a part of me that will never forgive you, the same part that can’t stop trying to run.” She wasn’t sure she could put in the work either. To get beyond the forced start of her married life. But again, there was no choice other than Michael’s will.

Michael Villiers

    Purple Dusk to Green
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Kayndred

    Corlay Island Raider Captain
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    21 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #24 on: January 27, 2019, 09:00:25 PM »
He rolled his eyes. "You could have told me you liked it." All she need do was ask, and he would provide. Or do his damnedest to try. Why did the women in his life think that the best thing for their relationships with him was anything besides total transparency? Better to deal with whatever emotions were first forthcoming than to keep him in the dark and put themselves in potential danger. His wrath would always be worse than if they just asked or told him when they first wanted something, rather than pretending they didn't or just vanishing into the sea and appearing willy-nilly later, keeping him on tenterhooks.

He wouldn't let her go, of course. That was the one thing he couldn't bare, couldn't allow, but they could  negotiate around their boundaries. Surely she - they - could bend enough for that. Michael felt he was being exceedingly flexible, after all.

Now because I want to come home and not play games for affection, he didn't say, deep in the darkest parts of himself. I want your edge without malice. Teasing and hair pulling had been fun, for a long time, but it had lost its luster. Michael was done with the same song and dance, the words edged with vitriol. He was tired of it. Bored.

But he couldn't tell Keavy that. He'd get a serious attempt at a knife in the ribs, no doubt, with the way they'd been going. And of course he'd know if she'd done something, but he just rolled his eyes anyway. It wasn't what he'd meant to say. At least she'd taken it, and he let his hand drop palm down, fingers tapping against the fabric thoughtlessly.

Watching her roll onto her back, the desire to remove the pillow between them and press his nose to her throat rose up, a wanting to wrap around her and not let go until this was behind them. His skin itched with it, and he drummed his fingers against his stomach, pinning that urge in place. She hadn't thrown anything at him yet, or stormed off, and it felt like the progress, even just a fraction.

And then she hit him with that.

"Another wife?" He burst, incredulous, fingers stilling. Where had she gotten the idea that he was out courting some island girl? He blinked, trying to think of a time he'd smelled like any one woman specifically, rather than the muddle of the market crowd or the close press of the raiding parties. Or Perrine. "Why would I be after another wife when I have you?" Keavy was a handful and a half, Darkness be merciful. And he thought he could be forgiven for not looking at the native women too seriously when he had Keavy at home. What had possessed her to think he'd want anyone else?

Her tirade against him pushed aside his shock, disbelief rising in its place, partnered to a searing heartache he hadn't expected, an outraged hurt, anger hot on its heels. Here he was, laying himself open to her as he'd done no one else, not even Perri, and she called it shit. Like he wasn't trying to make their life together just a little smoother. And was it really he who was not enough? Was she really so against life here that there was no way to look past the first hurt?

"You cannot leave." He stated, terse. He rolled forward until he was sitting, jerking his shirt over his head and tossing it toward their hamper. It was an irrefutable fact. She had been stolen, she was his, and there was no way for her to leave the islands. And if her not being able to leave meant that she would never forgive him that, then fine. He desired her honestly, her honesty, and he could change, if he so desired. It was the desiring that was always the difficult part. He couldn't be halfhearted about it.

Even if she called his apology shit. He chewed the inside of his cheek, wrangling his seething irritation. Flopping back onto the bed with an explosive sigh, he thought Progress can take small steps, he thought. Sometimes you need a knife rather than a hammer. Staring at the ceiling, "I can't grant you your desires from the past. And I can accept that which you won't let change." If I must. "But we don't need to be at odds, constantly. A marriage is a negotiation of boundaries and goals, isn't it? Surely we can come to agreements about what would make our life together better."

Keavy Villiers

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    knife wife
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    13 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #25 on: February 01, 2019, 09:54:33 AM »
Keavy didn’t know how other stolen brides behaved once their vows were forced out of them. Had no idea what Michael had expected from a wife that had not come to him willingly either. But apparently they did a lot of simpering and bending over. She was not like the rest. By nature and by intent. Could not be- because there was more future in her future than there was for them. If she didn’t plan now for fifty years from now she wouldn’t survive. There were centuries left for her- four of them! So it never occurred to her to ask Michael for the things she needed. To grow reliant was to be pliant. And the line between pliancy and acceptance did not exist.

He could not know what he didn’t know, and to her that seemed like all the more reason not to go snatching women up. For the sake of his sex drive he had punished her to potential centuries of suffering. When he was dead, she would go on, and she couldn't tell him without risking her people, and exile from the pack if any survived. If, and it was a frightening if, she ever found a way to escape. Paon was a place of decrepit morals with no desire to change. It made her sick. And the air around her tense with the judgement of a priestess who saw The Darkness quite differently than these varlets ever could. For instance, the sacrilege of matrimony by taking multiple wives. ”Why were you ever after me in the first place?” She shot because before dissolving into a much longer diatribe.

She didn’t know how to make him understand the wrongness. No one had ever forced the man to do a damn thing he didn’t want to do. So she couldn’t call on his empathy or understanding. His inability to relate to her situation was as strong as his refusal to. She could see it in the set of his eyebrows as he stabbed her with a truth she already knew. There was no point in stopping to tell him she knew that. He knew that she knew. It was the crux of the issue. If people could come and go then he would have been forced to know her before he took her. To respect the Darkness given rights the island stripped their women of. But the men liked it that way, she suspected. Warlord Princes more than the rest, most likely.

From her side of the pillow she closed her eyes so that he couldn’t see her glance at the back of her own skull. All the blame settled precisely where she had expected. On her own shoulders. What she wouldn’t let change. Nevermind that Michael had not been bothered to know her personal boundaries or attitude before making her his wife. Sighing through her nose she tried to imagine having goals other than escape. Or even something to negotiate with. All she had was her temper and her body. ”That’s easy for the man holding all the cards to say. What do you want me to negotiate with, Kale? What would I negotiate for? There’s nothing here for me to want. Except freedom and you’ve already expressed your feelings about me so much as taking a damn walk without you breathing down my neck.”

Wetting her lips she leaned up onto her arm to stare him in the eye. ”Tell me, though, if it were your daughter, or your sister, a million miles from all she knew and loved would you tell her to lay down and stop being at odds? Or would you hope she was staying strong and trying to find a way back to you?” Keavy didn’t know where his sudden longing for peace between them came from. She didn’t think she liked it though. Things were easier when a foul word sent him off to rage in private. Much easier. If she couldn't drive him away with anger then she'd try something else. ”Since you’re not keen to understand my feelings, then why don’t you just tell me what’s going on with yours because I’m really not the sort of woman that wants to guess her way through this hinky song and dance.”

Michael Villiers

    Purple Dusk to Green
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Kayndred

    Corlay Island Raider Captain
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    21 Posts    0 marks
Re: Shared Borders
« Reply #26 on: April 08, 2019, 02:49:13 AM »
It wasn't a particularly touching memory for Michael - he didn't have them, really. But it was warming, more from the vestiges of the Edge that made it crisp and the sensation he'd had getting his first look at Keavy.

"It was how you looked that night, in the fire. All teeth and red hair," like a fire he could touch and take home. He'd could remember everything about that instant perfectly -- the angle of the shadows of the buildings, the light as it caught Keavy's hair, the look on her face. The animal in him had screamed to grab her and not let go.

So he had.

Now, he was wishing that animal had just a little more foresight and a little better understanding of people. Because fuck if dealing with Perri had prepared for handling another woman at such close range. "And which cards would you like, love? In this place where you know only that I am a monster and that you are trapped."

And how could he let her roam the island when it was obvious how little care she had for the place? She'd step on someone's toes and then it would turn into a tangled mess. Someone would demand Michael present some kind of retribution, some kind of punishment. And there would be nothing that would hurt more than hurting Keavy. "I would ask only that you try, with some small part of yourself, to bare my presence in our home with less distaste. A home I let you reign over even when I am present on the island, which is more than can be said for some native wives and their less forgiving husbands." How a man handled his wife was not Michael's business, no matter how he might feel about it. What he did care about was Keavy, and he didn't want to be the type of man who's wife feared him.

Bringing up any future hypothetical children was a low blow. If any of Michael's children were stolen, male or female, he would raise whatever barbarian country they were stuck in to the Darkness forsaken ground.

But that was a level of violence unlikely to appeal to his already bristling wife. "Of course I would want her to fight. To fight smart. But you can't live in anger and fear alone. There must be something you can place your trust in, your softness. If you box it away and never let it out it will die." They killed the  sweetness of their boys that way, after all. Michael had seen his fair share of youths trimmed from the ranks of future raiders due to weakness. Too tenderhearted, unable to compartmentalize away their tears, their whining. Maybe there was something wrong with Michael, that it had been so easy for him to pin his sensitivities down and forget about them.

Or maybe he kept them wrapped up around Perri, and then Keavy, and that was why it hurt so much to be rebuffed?

Who could say.

At least they had that in common. Better to know, now, to be direct, rather than hem his words in the delicacy that he had to employ with his sister. Perhaps it would be easier, being from the mainland, for Keavy to accept that what Michael did on raids. Less the heavily edited version of his exploits than what Perri got. What he chose to give, at least. With that in mind, Michael let a healthy breath out through his nose, eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. "I want to hold you while I sleep." At least.
 

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