Private Tales Whispers Beneath the Battlements

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
He planned to be here more often? Such a statement was bold, and somewhere within her, Faye liked hearing him declare such a thing.

She followed him towards the workshop, an amused smile quirking at her lips. "Oh? Intend on becoming best friends with Cathán then?" It was much too easy to tease him. The workshop looked as it always had, except cleaner than the last time. Pausing her projects for a few days allowed her to clean and organise, to make room for the future commissioned work she would start in the next week.

Faye moved to sit at her stool, where a magnifying glass and precision tools were kept. This is where all her fine details were made, with the gentle help of her dragon's fiery breath to make her work malleable.

"Or did you still wish to learn how to cut glass and make a stained window?" She asked, leaning back against the workbench with her elbows. "You can after next week..."

Because she could not cut him out from her life. The harder she tried to push him away, the stronger she wanted to pull him in. Faye knew this was turning hard for him, that she was the one standing in the way of something... that may turn her happier.
 
Talorgan’s ears warmed at her teasing, though he tried to play it off with a crooked smile. His gaze flicked toward Cathán, who shifted with a low rumble that made his chest tighten despite the dragon’s clear ease around them.

“Best friends, hm? I’d settle for… tolerated,” he said quietly, half in jest, though there was truth to it. “He seems not to think I mean you any harm.”

Talorgan busied himself by setting the stones gently down upon the bench, careful not to scatter her neatly arranged tools.

“You’d best have patience if you mean to teach me. My hands are better at breaking things than shaping them.”

He leaned against the edge of the bench, arms loosely folded, and for a moment he just watched her framed in the lamplight, elbows propped, hair tumbling around her face. The sight tugged at him in ways he couldn’t name.

“Still,” he added after a breath, softer now, “if it means spending time here, all the better.”
 
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The softening of his face and tone was one she watched. How his eyes fell upon her, and a pause as she watched his gaze take her in. She had seen that before, many times over, but not every person she saw evoked the same from her. Those ones, Faye had let them in.

Why was she fighting against him so much?

"When have I ever given you the impression that I do not have patience?" Mischief, amusement, it glimmered in her grey eyes. "I assure you, Talorgan Vulcarys, that you will have the most fun creating something. Any ideas on what image you would like to create? Biersys?" She knew which panes of glass to use for such colouring. "Perhaps a flower? A gift for your mother or..." Her trailing off had been unplanned, for she lifted her gaze to watch him. Saw the softness still there in all his being, despite how large and imposing he was.

He stole the light, lit up in the warmth of a lamp they both shared the glow of.

"This... courtship..." Hesitation laced her words carefully. "What do you propose now that we have...?"
 
He looked at her and immediately fell into her gaze of mischief. Talorgan huffed a laugh, at her glimmering eyes. The way she wielded mischief against him left him disarmed, though he tried to straighten under it.

“You’ve never lacked patience, no,” he admitted, voice touched with fondness. “I only meant I’d test it sorely.”

He leaned his hip against the bench, fingers brushing the edge of a glass shard, careful not to press. Her question about designs gave him pause.

“A flower, maybe. Something simple. My mother would smile at that.”

He had always been closer to his mother. She only tended to express dissapointment in his activities when his father was around.

The thought softened him again, and his gaze found hers, lingering there in the lamplight.



Her next words unsettled him. The courtship. His throat worked, and he looked down.

“I don’t know that I have a perfect answer,” he said at last, quiet. "I'm glad you want to talk about it."

He had feared that she would recede inside herself. He couldn't work out why.

“This began as a shield for us and I meant to honour that. But... ” His shoulders lifted faintly, then fell.

“... The other night..."

He managed to describe it with a single sigh.

"I'm worried you'll reject anything I propose."
 
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Faye lifted her head, angling her neck at the same time. Her eyes peered into his, unwavering as she spoke. "I am not going to make myself vulnerable in places I am not comfortable showing such a truth in."

This was her home, her sanctuary. A place where she trusted she could be herself. Juny had ensured her friend had the same place to retreat to, to have control always.

Faye finally looked away. Dropped her gaze to a spot on the stone floor. "Nor would I wish to speak about this, to be overheard." After all, it had started as a ruse. A trick. She needed time to be sure that what happened that night was not pure lust and timing. Things had shifted quickly, and any sane woman would see that and be cautious, especially when they were coming from a place of healing.

"I am wary of my feelings for you, can you understand that? That I had loved someone so much, it consumed all of me, that the moment I began to doubt where it would go... For so long I wanted marriage. To feel like every other wife in this city that just had it easy in their lives. I remind myself I am unlike them. I befriend Marked Ones because they are no different to us." A truth she had no qualms in sharing. She knew Talorgan would not have the same hate for Marked Ones as the rest of the citizens did. "I threatened fate from criminals, have told dragon rider men to do suggestive things with their arses for even looking at me the wrong way... I do so much to protect myself even when I have someone there to protect me." Because she had a life of the rug being swept from under her.

She needed him to know that. Understand her. There was no solution when it came to her. If someone wanted to be in her life, they needed to know and accept the risks.
 
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