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Messages - Lillian

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1
Parbelavi / Re: Oh, its you
« on: March 30, 2020, 07:40:40 AM »

It was too easy to give in. His mouth silenced so much. Covering her own so that she could not complain or reject. Hushing not just Lillian's misgivings but her worries too. He gave comfort, as much as he took it.

Peitar was alive. He breathed when she breathed. His touch was warm. Leaving a trail of heat where he touched her, as if Lillian had been cold before he put hands to her. He was strong muscle beneath her hands. Strong body against her own. The pressure of her weight had no bearing on him. He didn't waver. Just took more.

Everything Lillian offered up, he took. Encouraging the hand at his cheek. Scarred skin strangely smooth beneath her palm. Ear tucked into the creases of her fingers as if she meant to tug it for all his naughtiness. Lillian didn't pull or pinch however. She clung and let him chase all the worries and sorrows from her, just as she'd been trying to do for him.

Comfort. Peitar was the last person she had expected to find it in. He was rude. Vulgar. And didn't seem to much care for her. Except now he pulled her flush. Cloak vanishing, palm pressing her hips to his. Knuckles fitting into the crease at the base of her skull. And Lillian wasn't afraid. Even when his arm pinned her wing to her body and he leaned in to kiss her deeper. Farther. The sort of kiss that promised more than comfort.

Now they stood at the brink of passion. Chin lifting, Lillian's lips parted, inviting Peitar in. Tempting him deeper. Her grip on his ear tightened, hand pressing into his cheek as she contemplated giving in to her baser urges. Of taking Peitar with her. Goading and guiding him in turn until they filled the storage room with the layers of their lust and its release.

A cough from the other room fluttered her lashes against his cheek and nose. Her body had settled into his hands, hung half suspended from his neck and held tight to his body. It was almost like floating. Drawing back, Lillian kissed him softly. Gently. Lips stroking his, and then his chin and unscarred cheek. Her craft wound itself into a tight spiral around them. Just in case. This was new ground with Peitar, and not all men dealt easily with rejection.

"We should pack these things away." Lillian felt unbearably sleepy, so she didn't let go of him. Fingers curling around his ear to smooth his hair away. Thumb stroking the strange texture of the skin across his cheek bone. It was... like but not like skin. Glossy was the only word Lillian could think of, but that was not quite right either. And she very much could not believe she was petting the face that had so frightened her before.

She peeked at him. Eyes sweeping his face as she slowly unhooked her fingers from his shoulder. Lillian couldn't help herself, and kissed him once more for being so good. Just a peck, quick and light.


2
Parbelavi / Re: Oh, its you
« on: March 07, 2020, 08:14:31 AM »

Peitar scoffed at her. The sound half choking and hollow beneath the ear she had pressed to his shoulder. Loud in the one near his jaw. How had they gotten so close? Arms keeping her steady in his embrace. One of his above the curve of her hips. Her own thrown over his shoulders like a cape. He did not appreciate her fussing. But that was not new.

Peitar liked the way she tended the land. The rest of it he preferred she leave alone. He didn't want any civility. And less scolding. Lillian couldn't help it, however. He was so obviously out of control. He and his merry band of trouble makers. They needed someone to see them to reason. To help them keep their emotions and bloodlust from running over. Like now. Peitar had emotions that needed channeling. Edges to smoothed, and Lillian could offered him more recourse. Different recourse. Comfort and compassion instead of more violence and pain.

So she let him hold her tighter and longer. Didn't complain or pull away when he stroked her jaw and then her wing. The sensation so alien Lillian didn't know fully how to react. Her body shuddering and her words freezing up inside. Peitar didn't mind. He had questions enough for both of them. Curious about all the things he couldn't see. Daring questions only healers ever felt comfortable asking.

Questions she wasn't sure how to answer. Wanting to be honest, but to protect cherished memories at the same time. Things Peitar couldn't or wouldn't understand. He was too fiercely Eyrien, and Lillian was still too new to being Eyrien herself. The hair beneath her hand prickled warning. Lillian pet them flat again and fed him a measure of queen's craft while she did. "Yes." She agreed, knowing arguing would only undo all the peace she was trying to give him.

He appreciated it, Lillian could tell. There was no fighting against her craft, and more easing into her body. His nose brushed her temple, face tipped toward her hair so he could inhale her scent. She knew it was often as comforting as her craft, and less imposing. Just the scent of queen, of balance. Lillian was used to such things, and this time she was not even a little bit afraid.

"I don't stretch them at all." Lillian glanced up at him. Mostly she could see the underside of his jaw and chin. She wasn't sure she could stretch them. Mostly she maneuvered them by hand as needed. And they did as they pleased, which was mostly to lay dormant down her back. Or to strike out on their own on occasion. Could she? Was that all Peitar did to keep his strong?

Lillian knew it was a child's dream. Palm flattening between his shoulders. On either side of her hand rose good, strong wings. There had been much trying when she was younger. Even desperate attempts. She would never, ever fly. Sighing she looked up at him, and Peitar was looking down, lips brushing her cheek bone and unseeing eyes appearing to focus on her. It made Lillian feel shy and exposed. Quiet seemed best. Safest. And Peitar teased her for it. His probes filling the room as he questioned her. His tone a smirk. Lillian couldn't see his expression.

Not in whole. Just in pieces as he pressed closer. Filling her vision until she had to shut her eyes. Nose alongside nose. Breathing mingling until she shut her lungs too. Freezing in expectation. Knowing before she knew what was about to happen. Intuition swifter than logic.

Not the sort of kiss she would have expected from Peitar. It was not rough or loud. Not even demanding. Surprisingly precise for a blind man, his mouth fit across her own quietly. Lillian's whole body clenched. Fingertips pressing into Peitar's skin, toes curling into her boots. Muscles tightening until her wings twitched again and Peitar's lips parted. Her own tried to follow them, air escaping her lungs in a little sigh. Her body tried to follow her breath up and out. Toes unfurling to stretch her upward and after him.

Shivering, her skin broke out in gooseflesh along the trail his memory crystal left down her arm. Hands sliding away from his back to curl over his shoulders. Lillian held on tight. Leaning in on the balls of her feet. She brushed fingers over his cheek, hand startling away as she touched the scarring, returning, tentative before she pressed a palm to his cheek and curled her fingers around his ear.

Blood roaring in her ears, Lillian knew this was just comfort too. Life after death. She'd seen it a dozen times. Partaken of it once or twice herself. It was just comfort. And lust. Lust that made her tongue taste the bow of his upper lip.


3
Parbelavi / Re: Oh, its you
« on: March 04, 2020, 04:17:09 AM »

They were too much of a pair. Lillian despaired that they would ever behave, forehead resting against Peitar's shoulder, she watched Helen dance around them, barks ringing in her ears. And she though Peitar was amused by it all. Letting it carry on longer than needed before he calmed his hound. It was easily done, a single command and she sat quietly, if not still.

Lillian smiled at the sight. Body writhing in her seat, Helen looked like the happiest animal in all of Askavi. A canine smile splitting her jaws and wiggling her tail. At another command, she was let loose again. Quieter this time, she used her tongue to show them how excited she was. Giggling, Lillian tucked her elbows in, trying to hide from the wet tickle of dog licks.

Her laughter died with his words. He wouldn't then, she assumed. Proven right as Helen knocked her farther into him. Peitar took her weight and slid his possessive hand farther around her, ringing her around the waist to keep her trapped against him. Her heart tick-tocked like a clock and then went quiet. Fluttering wildly as her body reacted to all the stress and tried to knock Peitar's head askew. He didn't seem to mind that either. Close and humming he ignored her battering and held on tight.

To her.

"Peitar!" Lillian scolded, cheeks burning hot. He was terribly close. Breath fanning her temple. "You shouldn't say things like that." Mortifying and amusing, and all the more mortifying for being found funny. Hands locked behind his neck, Lillian tried to ignore the way his spread over her waist. As if he were measuring the distance between her ribs and her hips. She breathed carefully into the hollow of her shoulder and promised herself it was all just comfort.

"I will." Just comfort. Lillian called on her training to settle her nerves. He wasn't molesting her. And she'd initiated the embrace. For comfort, which Peitar was taking advantage of in warlord prince fashion. She let herself relax against him, taking once more that same comfort she'd found before. Her thumb traced the hairline at the back of his neck, and she shivered only a little when he touched her face. And a little more when he touched her wing.

Turning her cheek to his shoulder, Lillian shook her head. Surprised by his question. Very few people ever asked. "I don't think so, but I can't remember that far back." She explained, turning some of his own sarcasm back on him. She worried how much to say, how it would make her father look in Peitar's eyes, the father she loved. The reason, she suspected, Peitar was often so rough and rude with her.

"They were bound, when I was a child." To protect her from from her otherness. Lillian sucked her cheeks rather than launch to her father's defense. He was dead now, he didn't need saving. Glancing upward, she studied Peitar's face. They hadn't been this close to each since he'd knocked her out of the window and then landed in a heap on the ground with her.

He'd needed a but of comforting then too. Full of pain and possession. It was the curse of his caste. So Lillian used some of her own to blunt the sharp edges. "No. Sometimes they cramp, but so do plenty of other muscles." They were uncommonly weak, she knew. Delicate from lack of blood flow during development, or so the healers had told her. Sometimes she laid on them at night, comforted by the pressure that reminded her of a time when someone had loved her.

"Are you sure your eye is all right?" She whispered at him.


4
Parbelavi / Re: Oh, its you
« on: March 02, 2020, 04:51:09 PM »

Lillian wiped a layer of dust from a bottle so she could read the label. Date checked to be sure it was still potent enough to be worth anything. She'd found it sadly pushed back behind a row of its brethren.

"You're a part of her territory." She reminded them both. "She wouldn't just leave you all to die." At least, Lillian didn't think so. It was just finding enough healers for all the needs. It made her all the more determined to practice more. There wasn't much time to spare for training her, and yet the timing was also perfect.

Deciding the bottle wasn't too old, Lillian packed it away with the other things. At least it would be useful and not forgotten with Peitar and his people. "I'd forgotten they were short lived." That anyone was. How terrible it must be, to have such a quick existence. Where did they find the time for anything?

Time to love. Or to mourn. All over so quickly. Maybe they were more used to death and loss. Even for old warriors like Peitar who had fought hundred year wars, a new loss was just as fresh as a new. Lillian didn't wrap him up in her craft this time. Just her arms. What calming was there for the loss of a brother? She had only her cousins and nephew to compare against. And her father.

Peitar did not reject her comfort. Body tensing for a moment before he stood still for it. Arm slow to answer, but it did. Callouses picking at the fabric of her dress as he pressed his hand to the small of her back and fit himself into her arms. She held on tight, surprising them both with the pass of her lips across his face. Peitar complained about the state of the world, but held her tighter. Her dress becoming a snare that held in her place.

Around them, Helen danced. Her baying bouncing off the close walls and drawing barely heard murmurs from the healing room. "Hush, both of you." Blushing, Lillian his her face in his shoulder and pet the back of his neck comfortingly. "Helen, really. Peitar, make her behave." Lillian tried to let him go. Tried stepping away without stepping on the dog.

"She wouldn't." The idea of it was preposterous. They were best friends, Peitar and his dog. "You can let go. I'm not going to fall." Well, maybe she would. What had she been thinking, kissing him like that? The hug made sense. Surely he'd needed, and Lillian had too, without even knowing. But the kiss was just too much. Giving lie to her assurance, Lillian was jostled against him by Helen's leaping. Huffing, Lillian ended up cursing as her wing twitched, the joint trying to put out one of Peitar's.

"For Darkness sake! I'm sorry." Annoyed with herself, Lillian let go of him and tugged her wing back into place, which was quietly down her back, not smacking mourning warlord princes in the face.


5
Parbelavi / Re: Oh, its you
« on: March 02, 2020, 04:16:34 AM »

"That's true enough." Lillian had to admit. Askavi had always been rife with rumor. From the far and wide to the small and close. People seemed to flap their mouths as much as their wings. "You think we'd be better informed with all these winged couriers at our disposal." The ascella she blamed less, feeling some things were lost in translation.

Peitar did not seem amused by her amusing. He stayed close, the warmth of him a constant at her side. Occasionally pressing into or brushing against her as they walked. But he flinched when she toucher him. Fingers curling down his wrist and into the palm of his hand to help guide him through the tight quarters of the healing hall. "Sorry," she whispered to him, but did not let go until they'd reached the supply room.

There they parted. Peitar to lounge a room away from her, and Lillian to fret at lists and shelves. "Here." She marked a spot with her Summer-sky, curling dogs ear in her fingers before she began filling a box with larger items. Peitar worried too. Changing his mind just as she was pulling down packets of herbs. Lillian paused, then shook her head and kept at her work. "Don't say that. We'll find you a healer." She could beg a favor from Ilithian, surely. They were friends.

"If they can get through a gate. No ones tried yet that I know of." She filled the containers as she talked. Pausing between items to take comfort from Helen. Quick pets and rubs that Peitar chased with his probes as if jealous. She took one of the smaller bags with a thread of craft and wrapped a bundle of vials in it before stowing it away.

She was tucking a couple bulbs in as well, when he spoke. Starters for the district so they could grow some of their own healing herbs. They were gritty in her suddenly cold fingers. "Oh Peitar." No wonder he seemed so out of sorts. His people were one thing, but his brother was another matter all together. Close in a strange, violent way Lillian couldn't fully appreciate or understand. "I'm so sorry."

Emptying her hands, she brushed them clean on the front of her skirt and crossed the distance between them. Her hand rounded his, clenched around a crystal of some sort. Up his arm to his shoulder so she could pull him to her. Or herself to him. Other hand plucking the bag he held and dropping it to the floor, Lillian hugged him. Heartsore for his loss. Deranged with sympathy. She usually avoided touching him when she could. He was gruff and terrifying.

"Don't talk like that. It'll work out." She told him fiercely, nose turned into his cheek. Lillian would make sure of it. She kissed him there, on his scarred cheek, and squeezed his shoulders tight in the circle of her arms. To comfort him, Lillian promised herself. Even if it was some measure of comfort for herself to brace her body against his strength and know he'd survived, even if so many had not.


6
Parbelavi / Re: Oh, its you
« on: February 29, 2020, 10:41:42 AM »

"It wasn't an act of war." Lillian complained. But did they know that for sure? It hadn't felt like one. Dhemlan had laid no claim to whatever had been happening. Some argued their sudden increase in border guard was an act of guilt. Protection against retribution because they had done.. whatever it was that had been done. Others argued the opposite. Protection against the Eyriens who were sure to blame them.

And blame them many did. Maybe it was her own mixed heritage that made her so sensitive to Peitar's condemnation. Or the knowledge that he had kept the war dragging out by not giving it up. Picking at the edges of Ilithian's hard fought for peace with his raiding. All of it was too much for stillness. The dead. The anger. All the hatred and suspicion that had been stirred up like a hornets nest.

Even here, in the heart of Ilithian's domain, Peitar was ready to act. Probes filling the room up at her sudden movement. All of him alert for an attack. To attack.

"That I'm afraid, I cannot command to you. All the healers belong to Ilithian, or other rulers." Lillian ruled nothing. Not even herself. "I can put in a petition for you, however. Ilithian is doing her best to dispatch healers where there are none." There were more such places than healers, they were quickly coming to discover. It made Lillian stroke the brittle bone of her wing in worry. There would probably be no healer for the raiders at all.

Eyeing him suspiciously, Lillian let it pass. Whether he lied or not, she couldn't say. But she didn't think he'd ever lied to her before. Peitar was brutally, brutally honest. As if the filter between mouth and mind had gone the way of his eyesight. Though maybe he had always been so terribly blunt. She didn't know. "I did, the staff makes sure of it." Witches fussing her with plates and bowls. Men sometimes doing the same.

The pool of her queen craft spread, until it blanketed the hall around them. Following them as they went. It helped keep people from approaching them on their walk. People in need of direction or comfort. Bristling males from challenging her abandonment of her office to walk around with a warlord prince. They had gotten used to her meek ability to mostly stay where they put her.

"Um." Lillian bit her lip and tried not to snort. He would never make a court male. She wondered what path he would find to follow when he finally accepted the war was over. Or when the war really was over. Drawing a length of hair down her front, Lillian shook her head before remembering. "I'm not sure. There are a lot of rumors, though. Trouble with both Shalador and Dhemlan Territory Courts."

Lillian had left broader politics to Ilithian. Exchanging greetings with the healers and their apprentices, Lillian lead Peitar to the supple closet, hands guiding him around beds and closing the door behind them. It was really a whole other room dedicated to supplies and opening out onto the garden that helped fuel their craft.

"You've any baskets or boxes in your cabinet we can fill?" She asked him, pulling his list of supplies from her pocket and comparing it to the shelves. Shelves that had been full a month ago. Now the stockpile dwindled by the day. Sometimes by the hour if they had an onslaught. Lillian sighed. It all seemed too big to cope with. Even when she ignored everything but the next step, she could still feel the pressure of it all looming over her.

"From what we've heard, the Wind thing is like before. Everywhere." She spoke to keep her thoughts at bay. Far, far at bay. Working to keep from fretting at her hair or wings. Petting Dog when she was close enough to do so. Maybe this time they were gone forever.


7
Parbelavi / Re: Oh, its you
« on: January 21, 2020, 05:17:30 AM »


Lillian hummed agreement, unsure if Peitar meant the pairs proximity, or Ilithian's constant of motion. But in the end, it did not matter, as both were equally possible and true. Though the statement he tacked on caused color to spread across the rounds of her cheeks. Heat warming her lower lashes, because she probably fell in the idiot lot as well. "Something like." She mumbled.

Lillian was far less sure about all that. But it was a curious dance to watch anyway.

Emotion impregnated the dwindling space between them. Peitar seemed to stew, and Lillian was not yet ready to breach the well of his thoughts. Even with his wings relaxed, no longer displayed to show off the hard, scarred work they had done that day, he still took up too much space. His caste like growing pool of stagnant water at their feet. Her craft rose to answer it. Something gentler and soothing to lap at his sharp edges.

"It's not fine, it's bleeding." She argued, plucking the waving pen from his hand. And then plucking up his hand too. They made a pretty triangle, Lillian, Peitar, and the hound. Albeit, an uncomfortable on that quickly separated. "You're welcome." Lillian told him pertly, a long strand of hair looped around her fingers, and then her ears, as she watched him strangle himself. Mended hand to throat. Elbow to palm. He looked ready to roughly escort himself out the door. His wings even tucked in to fit.

"Alright." A word put to the nod he couldn't see. Calling her pen back in, Lillian put distance between them again. Perching once more in her chair, she pulled fresh paper in front of herself, scrawling the districts name across the top and beginning the list with Supplies. "Begin." A single word that held a catastrophe's worth of patience. How many times had she said it? How many times had she listed the same supplies over and again for the various leaders and loners that had come begging?

It put into perspective how very unprepared and under supplied their people were, and it made Lillian heart sick.

"It has, hadn't it?" It seemed both longer and shorter than that. Blotting a drop of ink from the edge of the list, Lillian slumped in her seat, shoulders rising toward her cheeks as she leaned into the desk top. A moment to despair in company that could not see it, before she picked another piece of paper up and nodded. "Go ahead." Too many names. Tents did not hold up well against avalanches, it seemed.

All the more reason for the homes she'd been pushing for. Clay brick and wood would have stood up better against the weight. But Lillian did not dredge up the point. Not now when so many were dead and she'd run away from them. "I'm so sorry Peitar." The names would be posted with the others. A stack of such lists piled on one corner of her desk. She added Peitar's dead to the many and rose from her chair abruptly. The need to do propelling her upward.

"Come on. It'll go quicker if I take you for supplies myself." Peitar wasn't half so fearsome as the healers, and Lillian knew her way around the supply closet now. "Have you eaten?" She asked, folding her wing down her side so that they could walk together without becoming entangled.


8
Parbelavi / Re: Oh, its you
« on: December 11, 2019, 04:10:38 AM »

"Of course." Little reason else for him to come. Lillian's shoulders rode high on her neck, bunching her hair around her ears. Her wings remained quiet down her back. Never having so much as twitched in response to Peitar's great cloak. They would not open in answer to his posturing, or whatever it was that had made the warrior's wings strain against the confines of the room.

The rest of her did. The hand not occupied with Helen pinching at the fabric of her dress when he stretched. Flattening across her stomach when he called her pen from its free fall to his hand. Lillian watched him roll the barrel in his fingers, staining them. Easier that than meeting his eyes, even if they were blind. He expressed his disdain well enough.

"Wherever Ilithian is." Lillian shrugged one shoulder, both of them slowly easing back down to a more natural, relaxed, position. With Lorivar present Lillian worried less and more about her friend. The subject of her fears merely shifting from the practical to the romantic. "And she has been busy trying to be everywhere." She was like a swarm of bees all on her own, their queen.

Scooping Helen's jaw in her palm, Lillian waited for Peitar's answer. It was swiftly and curtly given, leaving her thankful for the warm softness in her hand. Hound and master both sagging dejectedly in the doorway as the topic settled into the real cause for his visit. Lifting her chin, Lillian looked at him, noting the tightness around his eyes and the exhausted way the muscles at his shoulders fluttered. "Oh no." He looked as she imagined most of the others did. Worn thin with the sort of work that was tragic rather than fulfilling.

All while she'd been hiding beneath the shadow of Ilithian's wings like a little bird too afraid to leave the nest. Her skirts settled over paws and boot tips. Sympathetic gravity drawing her closer. Tongue tisking against her teeth as he pierced the callous of his thumb with her pen. The smell of metal and power just barely muted by his jacket. "Let me see it." Lillian offered, drawing his hand away and brushing her own power across the wound. Small enough that even she could feel skillful in its tending.

A slow, hard won measure ability won in the long hours of the night. When Lillian couldn't sleep and neither could the wounded. Her queen's gift kept them calm while she learned. Craft slowly restored and honed after the furious onslaught of a too long put off moon time. Peitar's skin grew whole again. Bones and tendons like stone and steel where she held him.

"I can help you get the supplies you need. And take your report. I end up with copies of most of them anyway." She explained, releasing his hand back into his care and patting Helen's head.


9
Parbelavi / Re: Oh, its you
« on: December 07, 2019, 07:41:54 AM »

He was clothed, at least, if raggedly. Helen's wet tongue dragged over her knuckles just before Lillian tucked her finger tips under the dog's chin for a scratch. Fur soft, warm and comforting. "Oh." She breathed,  eyeing the expanse of wing he spread in her borrowed office, walls vanishing behind their battered sails. He looked terrible.

Lillian's pen rolled from the desk to her chair, pinging softly against the wood before continuing its descent to the floor.

"Why?" Not that dozens of others hadn't come. Fingers switching from chin to ears, Lillian swayed between Helen and her desk, somehow coming around the corner of one, and leaning against the other. Edging closer to the warlord prince she'd run from. The rest of her worried questions cut off by his own. Rolling an ear in her palm, she nodded. Then remembered he couldn't see.

"Of course. He arrived the second day after... whatever happened." The warlord had stuck to Ilithian's side like a burr ever since. Lillian twitched her skirt away from the other corner of her desk. Somehow the wood had become rough and splintered along that edge, and always snagged on her dresses when she passed it.

"Is everything alright in, um," her lips rolled together, words pressed until she could find the right one. Theirs? His? Hers? "The district?" It had not been a proper village, not really. And she hadn't tried hard enough to accomplish proper housing before she'd left. Hardly tried anything at all for all the fear rolling around in her stomach. The land had been easy, since Peitar hadn't fought her on that. Building had been a trickier subject.

Though not half so bad as raiding.


10
Parbelavi / Oh, its you
« on: December 03, 2019, 04:29:43 AM »

It had been a strange awakening. The world had tilted and changed in the night, only to be discovered in the morning. Rumors rushing in of shattered windows and smoking debris. Rumors that took longer to reach them before. The world reduced to the swiftness of Eyrien wings with the Winds gone.

A curious morning indeed.

But that had been many mornings ago; when the blood had still run heavy from her body and Lillian had been able to do little more than fret, and be fretted over. Too riling to male tempers to soothe them. Too goaded by pain to be much help to her friend. Lillian had still tried. Wafting between bed and Ilithian's side like a storm tossed leaf.

She made extensive notes of every rumor that made it to the Eyrie. A map of events. And she worried. Worried especially about a place and people that weren't exactly hers. "Still nothing?" She asked across her borrowed desk every day. This day, the end of a pen wobbling between her teeth. Still nothing. And her Green too shallow to reach so far.

And Lillian too afraid to try. She and Peitar had not parted on good terms.

With a sigh she leaned back in her seat, crushing her wings between her body and the chair. The weight was almost a comfort. Pinned in place, just like she was. With all the mayhem running about Askavi, Lillian didn't dare ask her friend to spare an escort too see her to a place she most likely wasn't welcome. Ink blotting the paper as she lost herself in the spiral of useless worry and half concocted plans she was startled by the interruption to them.

"You!" Lillian stood with the accusation. Pen rolling away as her hands crept up her chest to cover her spreading smile. Heels to lips and fingertips to cheeks, she grinned despite her rough welcome. Eyes sweeping from warrior to dog and back again. "How did you get here?" She asked, dropping her hands for Helen to sniff.




11
Parbelavi / Re: Breakfast with friends
« on: July 06, 2019, 08:47:28 AM »

"Has he?" Seemed Lorivar was just eager to rush off from everywhere. Lillian peeked around Ilithian's wings before following her into the empty bedroom. Chin tucked tight as she cast a quick glance at the bed, which was indeed empty. And rumpled. Very rumpled. Smirking, she darted after Ili, following her out into the garden. Its height forgiven only because it was a garden, and Lillian didn't have to sit anywhere near an edge.

Wings tucked out of the way, Lillian watched her friend spread her own. Envy for such ease of use had left her years ago. She would have been consumed and killed by if she held onto the emotion. Everywhere in Askavi she was faced with those who found flight as easily as she found breath. A plenty for whom the joy had been ripped from, sometimes literally. It made bitterness over something she had no experience with seem futile and shallow.

"Beans, mostly. With a bit of potato and some leafy greens thrown in." She made designs in the damp earth with her boot toe. The soil here was sandy, with a nice texture. Many people might have found it hard soil to make grow, but Ilithian had little trouble making her garden flourish, Lillian was sure. "I think the men would be more inspired if they could grow meat." She only half joked. At least hunting got some of that need for violence out of their system.

Not enough, she was sure. They were still always battling each other for 'practice'. And running raids on the sly, Lillian was sure. Not blind to the fact that great swarms of them came and went. "Oh I bet he wouldn't." Lillian snorted. "It seems wrong to have what others don't. I'm trying to get some more built. Even some sort of barracks for his men would be better than a sea of tents. Maybe with more permanence, they would feel less like a band of roving raiders and behave more properly." She had little hope, but she had to do something. Ilithian had asked.

Lillian was just afraid she'd failed already, but their friendly exchange of news and laughter made her feel better about her position in life. Even if she did fail, Ilithian was likely to forgive and keep on loving her. Lillian had always been the useless side of their friendship coin. Good for support, but not the charge. Shrugging at the question, Lillian gripped the bench and leaned back, squinting into the sky.

"No. He's not violent toward me." Lips pursed, Lillian tried to think of a way to explain Peitar. And the way he treated her. "He's not even mean most of the time, just..." Shoulders bobbing she blew a breath of frustration through her lips in a raspberry. "He has absolutely no manners." But he escorted her when she needed to walk the land. Never complained when she slipped between the spread of his wings to hide from a passing face. Didn't retaliate when she pelted him with soap.

"I really like his dog." She sighed.


12
Parbelavi / Re: Breakfast with friends
« on: June 16, 2019, 08:30:16 AM »

Ilithian’s words made Lillian feel better, and worse. There had been a faint hint of disappointment living in her at the thought of Ilithian and Peitar as a couple. She still believed they would make a good one, but she was biased in her love of her friend. it wasn’t that she wanted Peitar herself, just that she liked the idea of his being free. Available for her to try leashing, if she needed to.

They had to work together for the district after all. Which is what made her feel worse. Ilithian thought he was important. And Lillian worried she had thrown her friend’s plans awry. ”I’m not sure he views them with very much kindness.” Lillian hedged. She was very certain he respected her not at all. Half the time he didn’t seem to even listen when she talked, if he was near by to talk to at all. He was very busy doing things he never told her about.

”Okay. Maybe not all the time.” Lillian laughed, rubbing her face with her hands. She could still tell her friend what his spear looked like, mostly. And his ass, definitely. Snorting, she pushed her laughter back into her mouth and glowered weakly at Ilithian. ”You’re wicked.” She teased. Ilithian teased more, however, making Lillian slump. ”At least be half serious.” She chided, thinking Ilithian did Peitar a disservice.

”He serves you. If not to the heart then to the letter. I don’t know if you can hope for more with him. He’s stubborn and too used to running himself.” Living wild with all those men. It was a brutal life. Lillian wasn’t sure she would ever fully adjust, so she stayed away from the warriors when she could. Working hard to make a proper village of the district.

”Isn’t it that way with all of them?” Lillian was plenty used to being ignored. Orders. Suggestions. Taken and left at the whims of the men in her life. Oh her craft was always welcome, but her thoughts were another matter. Thankfully she had plenty of years to find a place, a person or two, who listened when she talked. Every time. Even when they didn’t want to or didn’t agree. They would disagree with her honestly and to her face. At least she hoped so.

Smiling gently, she pet Ilithian’s arm. Fighting a blush over things she did not want to know about Lorivar. ”I’m sorry.” And she was, especially since she was the reason the very unexpected sex had been inflicted on her friend. ”Maybe you can find a better suited lover, now that you’ve had the thing done. It is really fun with the right person.” She promised, not for the first time.

The queens gave up eating. Plates set aside. Ilithian’s politely empty and Lillian’s disappointingly not. She felt like a lead weight of guilt that was helped only marginally by Ilithian’s laughter. She was riled by her words however. ”Was he not? That ass!” Her wing spasmed, twitching at her shoulder. ”He didn’t, did he? Because I will kill him.” She didn’t think he would have. And Ilithian didn’t seem that upset about it. But still! Bullying a woman into sex. Lillian would speak to him anyway. Wishing Peitar was there to beat him again.

Ilithian soothed her. Promising the sex went well enough for there to be a repeat performance. Lillian nodded and relaxed. But she was still going to have words with Lorivar. With Ellessar with her. Just in case she needed his shields. ”If you’re sure then.” About all of it. The sex. The fight. The men would forgive each other, which was good. Lillian was less sure she’d be forgiven by anyone other than Ilithian. She was very grateful to have such a friend. And felt awful for always failing her.

It felt more and more often like Ilithian would have been in possession of Lillian’s years. She was wise and calm. A good leader and queen. Lillian was... herself. And she could love it or hate it. One would only lead to more misery. ”Thank you. I’m alright aside from worrying over you.” She rose when Ilithian did. For once she dreaded sitting down with her friend. Halls making her anxious until they were in the garden. Fresh air and sunlight to greet them. They sprawled together on a bench, much as they had been doing for years.

”Things are going well.” She lied with confidence. They were much the same as they had been when she arrived. At least with the people. They belonged wholly to Peitar. ”The land will be ready for planting in the spring. Not all of it, but at least two fields, a couple acres for each.” That part no one could hinder unless they started salting it again. She didn’t think they were that desperate to be rid of her.

”Living in a tent has been an experience. I keep hearing our old tutors droning about decorum while I roll into my dresses.” Lillian laughed.


13
Parbelavi / Re: Breakfast with friends
« on: June 13, 2019, 04:24:40 AM »

Lillian watched her friend patiently. Even just awake and attempting to hide, Ilithian was full of energy and life. Her whole body communicating her emotions in way both subtle, and not. Lillian enjoyed it, though she felt a pang of sympathy for her friend’s discomfort. A smile hidden behind her napkin as the queen’s affront wing nearly took out a passing warlord.

”Only because he’d encourage such thinking.” Ilithian wasn’t wrong. Lillian doubted Peitar had any more respect for their caste than many men in Askavi. And possibly less than most. Probably a lot less than most not. Leaning away from her overeager friend, Lillian tucked her smile away and shook her head. ”Nice enough! You’re a wicked thing, Ili. I think he forgets not everyone else went blind with him. He’s always naked!” Or he just didn’t care. Like he didn’t care about a lot of things. Protocol. Propriety. Things.

”I hear he’s available, if you don’t mind sharing with every old widow in the camp.” Lillian teased back, shaking her head. He was far too fearsome. And his scars made her worry, even when she could see past them to what was beneath.  Hell, all of him made her worry. But she liked this dog, and thought Ilithian handled him just fine. She handled everyone. Soothing prickly males just by existing, Lillian was sure.

”I don’t know, Ili. He’s usually well behaved.” When he wasn’t planning on chopping a girl’s head off. But that head has never been Ilithian’s. Ilithian who was stuffing her face full of toast to avoid answering Lilli’s question. Picking at her own food, she tried to reassure herself it was just embarrassment and nothing more sinister. Ilithian had been fighting her virgin night for some time now. It was probably hard to talk about.

”Nothing at all?” Lillian blinked innocently. Something, certainly. Perhaps it was best if she didn’t pry. She had forced this unwanted situation on her friend, after all. Burying her fork, Lillian wiped her lips and shook her head, cheeks darkening at the thought. ”No thank you.” The teasing invitation felt more like a challenge than anything else. Ilithian’s smile too sharp to be friendly. Groping for a way to change the suddenly static air into something more comfortable, she tried for a joke. ”I prefer my men a little more than nothing.”

It came out much flatter than it had sounded rushing through her mind. Sighing, Lillian finished her cup of coffee, pushing it and her half full plate away. Ilithian wasn’t eating either. Though she pretended enviably. ”I did. And with half a thought to saving you if needed.” Little at all she could have done against Lorivar, but Lillian would have tried if it had been necessary. Plus the Eyrie was a good place to hide from Peitar. ”He and Peitar got into an ugly fight back at the camp. You don’t think it’ll cause resentment between them, do you?”

It had already made Peitar shouting mad at Lillian. He assumed she’d set Lorivar on him. That she was a gossip who had accused him of acts - or lack of action - before ever asking him directly. Fingers massaging her cheekbones, Lillian worried he was right. What the hell else had she thought would happen but this mess? Someone came to take Lillian’s plate away, a look cast between her and its leftovers that made her look away and pretend she didn’t notice. It made something hot and uncomfortable rise up in her.

”I might stay a couple days, if you don’t mind?” Maybe put her brews off long enough to suffer through a moontime. Ilithian would make sure she was safe, and it was bound to be hellish for how long she’d been putting it off. And maybe after it was done she could convince Ilithian that forever was much better than just a few days.


14
Parbelavi / Re: Breakfast with friends
« on: June 09, 2019, 06:50:50 PM »

”Yesterday.” Lillian drawled, wishing she was a healer so she could test Ilithian for injuries. All she could do was stare, eyes hidden beneath her lashes as she swept her gaze down the other queen’s body. She seemed to be walking fine. Fit enough to steal Lillian’s coffee cup from her hands.

Ilithian took long enough to answer to make Lillian worry. Shoulder rolling and face thoughtful before she hid it behind the cup. ”Is that all?” She lifted and eyebrow in question and smirked as her friend grimaced over the coffee and launched into a complaint. Probably meant to distract Lillian from prying. ”I’ve never liked my coffee as sweet as you, Ili and you know it. I’m sure they’d love the sugar though.” She was less sure she’d be there to enjoy it with them.

Conversation interrupted while a hearth witch rearranged the table to Ilithian’s preference. Lillian stole back her coffee in the confusion, freshening it from the carafe when it was set aside. Noticed there was no sweetened toast for her with a smile. They were well trained. And attentive. Suppressing a moments envy, Lillian picked at her breakfast and cast furtive glances at her friend while things settled.

Ilithian was quiet. An unusual state for the woman Lillian had known for half a lifetime. Frowning, she tipped her coffee cup back and forth and waited for the words to sort themselves in her head. Ili beating her to it with a slap. ”Why not Peitar? You said he wasn’t always ugly, and his backside is nice enough to make up for it anyway.” Lillian laughed too, shrugging away the stupidity of her assumptions.

”I’m sorry I caused trouble.” Flattening an egg with her fork, Lillian tipped her head to the side and worked the question out, eyes averted but still looking. ”Was Lorivar that bad then?” Her nose wrinkled. ”I always assumed he was decent in bed, at the least.” Handsome and popular with the women. There had to he something that lead them to bed him more than once. Unless it was luck that had gotten him half a dozen brats on as many women.


15
Parbelavi / Breakfast with friends
« on: June 09, 2019, 11:08:25 AM »

Fast as she'd left and arrived, Lillian was still too late. Deep Opal shields warning her away. Lorivar's scent thick in the air, the taste of musk and fear gagging her. Ilithian's court hurried her away, back down the stairs, closer to the kitchens where they could feed her. And drink in her calming craft. Males riled by Lorivar's temper, but unable to act without permission, which did not come.

So Lillian bathed them in craft and ate whatever was put in front of her. They arranged themselves around her, but not too close. Lounging against walls, or in windows. Doing their best not to look since it made her nervous, and they were nervous enough already. All of them waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Long enough for them all to finally circle the table she'd been sat at to join her in eating.

They arranged a room for her. Witches shuffling her off, freeing her from the oppressive weight of male expectation and need. Lillian was glad to relax, curling into a small ball in the middle of her bed and hoping her friend was safe and well. And hopefully having a very good time. Lillian had been begging her to give in and enjoy the carnal side of life for ages. She missed it herself, but there were no males in Peitar's district she felt safe enough with. Or attracted enough to.

Mostly she just didn't feel safe enough. There were plenty of good looking men to choose from.

Somewhere between one thought and the next, worrying about Ilithian's virgin night and Peitar's yelling, she fell asleep.

Breakfast brought her friend. Heaping bowls of fruit and a warm pan of porridge set out. Eggs too, boiled almost yard, their yolks soft, and almost jelly like. Lillian was licking the center of one clean when Ilithian joined her. "Good morning!" She chirped around egg, licking her lips clean and trying to see a difference in her friend. And spot any hurts. "How are you?" She asked in a soft whisper, eyebrows bobbing.


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