Private Tales A Name From The Past

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
A soft chuckle there.

"Even when you are sad, you can make me laugh, what a wonderful." Gently giving her one more stroke and then carefully guiding her up to her feet. His arm going around her waist to keep he closer to him.

Something told him that she needed proximity to ground herself into the living moment.

As they exited the solar room and stepped back into the living quarters proper it was just as empty as Fane and Lorelei had left it.

"Where would you like me to give you your massage?" Murmured in her ear.

He didn't want her to feel like he was taking advantage of her softened state.

It would be just fine to do it here. Even if Fane had been teasing all night about what he wanted to do with her.

Here and now that was the furthest from his mind.
 
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It was hardly some physical fragility that needed propping up. Her exhaustion was one of the spirit and the heart, but she did not decline the embrace or the closeness. There was something to be said about the warmth of another being soothing for the soul and she wondered had her most recent late husband not been lost to the plague, if he had made it and awoken alongside herself and Aris, would things be so different?

"Here is fine," Lor answered as she silently wondered on her long history and the many men she'd shared her life with. None of them had ever been particularly paternal, caring, or warm emotionally. All of them had been men in other forms of leadership.

Truly, Fane would be the first that had no title, sovereignty of his own, or political clout. She knew him only from the battlefield and despite her best efforts, Lorelei could not specifically recall the outcome of that day. Hadn't she killed him? It likely didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Taking a seat on the couch before the slowly dwindling flames of the fireplace, she kneaded at her wounded hand absently.

"Forgive me," wasn't often she lost her temper, less often that she apologized for much of anything, but she didn't want to set a bad precedent between them, "for spoiling dinner."
 
He sat down behind her and his hands already settled on her shoulders.

They didn't immediately start to knead however.

Instead he just brushed and listened to her. Her words, yes, but also her breathing. Her attempt to steady herself in the moment.

"There is nothing to forgive." Fane finally said gently. "You did not upset me and I was glad to be in the room for it, so I could offer what little assistance I could provide." In truth Fane had done far worse and far more in his lowest moments.

Tavern brawls were one thing... but both of them could do great damage.

Only then did Fane give the first knead. A soft squeeze of her shoulders. Tentative. To once again feel the knots coiled in her flesh.
 
Even with the gentle squeeze her shoulders tensed beneath his hands. Less a reaction of pain and more an innate defense mechanism. A preternatural response to a presence looming at one's back. The proverbial hackles raising to protect over a century of grief, turmoil, loss, despair, and anger all coiled like tensioned steel cables beneath her flesh.

At some point, if they didn't get any relief, something was going to snap.

He might hear her sigh while she willfully tried to settle her nerves.

"Tell me something about yourself I don't already know."
 
And he smiled there.

"We could play this game for centuries, I believe." Whispered in her ear as he began to truly knead her shoulders. Strong fingers squeezing, first soft, but beginning to find the knots and starting to work on them thoroughly.

"I have told you about my adventures on the sea, some of them anyway, and of the time I took to the sky..." Fane murmured thoughtfully as he leaned in to kiss the back of her head softly.

"But I have not told you of the time that I was a miner who broke through the ground of the mine we were working on... and found myself deep underground." He thought back to that time and shook his head with wonder at how young he had been.

"The impact would have killed most men, but I am not most. And that is how a delegation of dwarves found me in their Kingdom."

The first human-shaped creature they had seen in centuries.
 
She was finding it difficult to settle her posture in a way that would let him work more easily. Everywhere his hands shifted they were met with resistance. Lorelei twinged at the profound soreness he was uncovering and tried with reasonable effort to listen to his words instead.

"You're telling me," a wince, her lips pressed thin, "that you fell into the Underdark by accident?"
 
And while he was doing his best to not be too rough with her, it became clear soon enough that a more firm application was necessary.

"Steady, my darling." He murmured in her ear between the telling of his story. "Just sit and enjoy, I can handle whatever your body throws at me."

Fane didn't need her to settle for him, didn't need her to make it easy.

He was enjoying the challenge.

"Oh, yes, but I didn't know that was its name back then. All I knew was that I went from a world with a sky above me to a world with only rock for a heaven." His hands began to knead harder, more firmly, as he founds the knots that plagued his wife-to-be.

"I think I died about four or five times before the dwarves came across me. I had never seen spiders so large, elves so evil... it was a wonderful place."

A soft laugh at the way that must have sounded.

"I had grown bored, truth to be told, and this turned out into a new challenge for me."
 
The Underdark was no laughing matter. While her people's Empire had shared the regions of both it and the Overbright, they seldom ventured beyond their own territory for the simple reason that it was deadly, even for them. She could believe he would find many things to kill him there, for creatures far worse than elves and spiders called the darkness their home.

Another sharp wince as his thumbs dug into a particularly stubborn knot between her shoulderblades where she flinched away and in the process felt her spine crack in that very spot.

"Ah-" Lor blinked, brow furrowed over momentary confusion as the pain gave way to curious relief. Huh. She eased back into his grip again as the relief spread further along her back. Hells, how long had that been there?

A glance thrown over her shoulder with a slow released of the breath she'd been holding, "What happens to you when you die?"
 
When Lorelei looked back she'd be met by his pleased smile.

Yes, that tension had been relieved, at least in that spot.

Instead of immediately answering... he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers briefly. Stealing the barest of kisses while one arm wrapped around her waist to pull her deeper into his chest. "Mm... I refer to it as the Dream." Fane said softly against her lips. "When I die... I am gone. As if I am asleep. Then suddenly... I wake up again."

A soft shrug as he let go of her so he could rub her back, running his fingers along her spine, to tease out more tension.

"Sometimes I wake up at the same spot I left. If the injuries are serious enough I seem to wake up in the strangest place with my body fully intact again."

His hands began to knead once more.
 
It was only by the grace of several layers of black and white silk that his fingers running down her spine didn't send her positively leaping from the couch and out of his hands. The reaction was muted substantially, but she still coiled away from his hand as it descended the length of her back, several more popping cracks followed and her eyes rolled shut over a sharp inhale.

Had to take a moment to collect scattered thoughts and gently cleared her throat.

"Strange - strange places?" she asked, "Like where?"
 
He noticed her reaction to touching her spine and found it... Interesting, but not interesting enough to make him risk his life and do it again.

"I once woke up riding a horse. I don't know where the horse came from or how I got on it, but..." A soft shrug.

"It was quite welcome. My legs had been tired from walking the desert and dying of dehydration."

Running his hands down her sides, squeezing her hips softly.
 
Nope.

"A horse..." she remarked.

The relaxation was over. Fane's hands were hitting a few too many buttons and if he couldn't sense the pheromones now filtering through the air she'd consider herself lucky.

"That is a strange place to awaken." Lorelei promptly stood from the couch and felt the warmth of his touch slip away as she moved off around the couch and toward the entrance. There she stopped at a table by the coat rack and took up her clutch, withdrawing the silver case that held her strange cigarettes from which she procured one with deft fingers.

In only a moment it was lit off the flame of a nearby candelabra on the wall and filling the air with its purplish smoke and faint minty aroma.

Normally she only needed one of these a day, but Fane's advances were pushing her nerves in a way she hadn't anticipated.

"Do you suppose-" just keep the conversation going, "that you are taking the body and place of someone else when that happens?"
 
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And yet where she went he followed.

Like an annoying shadow.

The moment Lorelei settled down his hands were on her hips again. This time pulling her into his chest while they were both standing. "Now that is an interesting idea." Fane said thoughtfully. "Sadly nobody has ever been around when it happens."

Squeezing there slowly as he breathed in the smoke and coughed lightly.

"My word, you do enjoy your cigarettes, don't you?" Teasing her there... as his knuckles slowly ran up her spine again.
 
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The moment his hands found her hips again Lor shut her eyes and pulled a long, deep drag from the Sten. Didn't even hear his response to her as she held the smoke in her lungs and willed the relief of calm to permeate her mind and body before she turned and tore his throat from his neck with her fangs.

The squeeze forced an exhale and all the smoke came billowing from her lips with a faint gasping sound.

"Huuuuh-" followed quickly by another sharp inhale as his hand ran the length of her spine up to her shoulders, her body inadvertently curling against the touch like a spoiled cat. She had to plant her free hand on the table to steady herself against a rush of want that seemed to boil up through her blood and into her scalp.

The part of her that had intended to send him on his way for the evening was quickly dissolving in the boil. Everything was now magnetizing itself toward him and his touch. As if her earlier break hadn't shown him the cracks in her armor, he'd somehow found the keystone that held it all in place and plucked it free.

She didn't want to be alone with her memories, grief, pain and regret.

"Fane..."
 
Lips joined hands in appreciating her.

His hand once more stroked at her spine, down again, firmer now. "Lorelei..." His lips pressing against her neck to feel her heartbeat against his mouth.

Two sides warred here.

The buttoned up control versus the beast chained.

How long had it been that Lorelei allowed herself to just be in the moment and forget everything else around her?

"Tell me what you need... Tell me what you want..."

He whispered it against her flesh and breathed her in.
 
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Want and need.

She wanted to drink him dry of every last ounce of blood. Wanted to meld with his flesh and become putty in his hands. Wanted to lose herself to lust and hunger and forget about everything that plagued her mind to the point of allowing no peace, no rest.

What she needed, what her sister needed, however, was stability and security. She needed to get back to work. Every minute used to building forward and up, ensuring that neither of them would be forced back into the savage ways of their ancestors. Predating on the hapless and unwary and slowly turning a thriving city into a giant killzone. It risked raising the notice of other predators, of which she now knew for a fact there were many. Alliria seemed quite overrun with them, given the number she'd come across at the game house.

Lorelei took the last pull from her sten, bracing against the sensation of his hand at her back with a moan lodged in her throat that she withheld to maintain some sense of dignity. The remnant of her cigarette quashed between her fingers and dropped to the table, nary even a stream of smoke snaking upward. She nuzzled against him as he kissed her neck and lifted her hand to thread her fingers over his skull.

"I want oblivion," he'd feel her heartbeat growing stronger under his lips, her teeth finding his ear, "and I need you to stay."
 
Did Fane realize just how close she was to tearing him apart and drain him like a bag of water in the desert?

No, he was not.

Would he have cared if he did know?

Probably not.

There was such a thing as 'cost of entry' in relationships. More often than not these things were relatively small and unassuming. Like accepting your partner will snore at night, while they accept you will forget to put your muddy boots outside every single time you come home from a successful hunt.

This was something like that.

She accepted that he was a wild oaf of a man with little manners.
He accepted that every time he pressed her buttons, she was oscillating between two different ways he could fill her.

"I am here to serve..." He murmured against her neck, giving one particular spot a slow suck while pushing her back towards her bedroom. "Let me give you both."
 
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