Private Tales Equinox

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus would give a low hum at being called a poet. Saving his retort to that particular comment for later. It was not until she called herself a phoenix that he would arch a brow and give her a.... dubious look. Though it was not a harsh one. Instead he would feather his fingers along her jaw and chin, murmuring into her ear softly.

"Then allow me to pluck you from the ash and watch you take flight."

As her companion returned and Elinyra, bound by motherly duty, would peel herself away and suggest their continuation later. Petrus, picking up the bowls in hand already, would stack them atop one another before walking past Elinyra to the kitchen. Murmuring for her to hear.

"If you can wait that long. I believe this manor possesses a pool. You can find me there."

Pretending to walk past her, finished with the conversation, Elinyra would feel a swat to her rear before he continued walking. Acting as if nothing at all happened.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

She gave Petrus a look of mock annoyance before she, Fwysog and Fielynn disappeared through the kitchen's threshold.

As Elinyra went through the motions of getting her daughter ready for slumber, she couldn't help but feel a burden of guilt that forced her into more profound considerations than her emotions could answer.

Fielynn doesn't have a father. Elinyra had told herself repeatedly that it didn't matter. That she could be everything her daughter needed all by herself. She just hadn't convinced herself of it yet. If she really did have feelings for this man, she had to take into account that her daughter's needs superceded her own. Even if she wanted a lover, what she needed was a partner.

Petrus had been good with Fielynn so far. Whether it was from genuine paternal instinct or simply a show put on to impress Elinyra, she couldn't yet say, but it gave her a sliver of hope that she hadn't had before. Only time would tell.

And whether Petrus's thoughts on Fielynn had been true or not... seeing her child's sleepy, cherubic face in her arms put it out of her mind. Fielynn was her daughter. That was a fact that could never be refuted.

Elinyra paused in the midst of deciding where to put Fielynn down to sleep when Fwysog took a firm hold on her tunic and pulled her into what appeared to be a sitting room. The chelonian caretaker had been busy, it seemed: an entire corner of the room had been turned into something between a bed and a small fortress. A chaise lounge had been turned on its side, enclosing pillows and blankets like a padded courtyard between it and a similarly upturned table. Fwysog had even managed to run a long window curtain over the mess like a sort of little roof.

"Fwysog, no. Where did you even get all this-" Elinyra started to protest, but was interrupted when Fwysog took Fielynn from her and stomped over to the pillow fort determinately. The creature set down the child and turned to just stare at her with its beady, unreadable eyes.

Fielynn rubbed her eyes as she rolled over into the scattering of pillows and blankets with a contented yawn. Elinyra quickly decided to cede this battle.

"I'll just have to clean this up tomorrow. Please don't touch anything else," she instructed Fwysog before giving Fielynn a kiss goodnight and going to find this supposed pool Petrus spoke of.

Of course, she didn't know where it was, so she had to do a bit of wandering through the expansive house. All of the luxury around her -- from the elaborate tapestries on the walls to the finely-woven rugs running up the hallways -- made her feel out of place. It was another aspect of Petrus's life that was as foreign to her as the far side of the world. Though it seemed that every time she'd been around him, she'd felt oddly both underdressed and overdressed at the same time.

A soft splash caught her ear. Moonlight poured onto the floor as she pushed open a heavy oak door and looked outside.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

The scene that Elinyra merged into was not a pool in the industrial sense. It was no marbled fixture of immaculate construction and hydrodynamics. Instead it looked like a small pond that might be found in the deepest, most primordial groves of the forest. Albeit with the plant life being unnaturally tamed and the water a crystalline blue from how clear and life-free it was. The small splash Elinyra heard earlier seem to be an enchanted stone being dropped into the water. The stone radiated a blue light from the bottom of the pool, gently illuminating the entire scenery.

Petrus stood on a small stone pavilion beside the pool. His back to Elinyra for the moment as he idly unbuttoned his shirt button by button, leaving it hang open away from her before he reached over to a table beside himself to sip from a small glass of wine. Only then did he pull his shirt off his arms and fold it atop the table, seemingly unaware of Elinyra's presence at all.

This did not stop his hands from undoing his belt, the click of the buckle and slide of the leather profoundly loud in the otherwise quiet, isolated grove they had to themselves. The only companions for them now being the lazy passing of late evening clouds above. Whether Elinyra wished to make herself known or not remained entirely up to her.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

She slipped off her boots and, silent as the clouds above, walked towards Petrus's back. Her pace was unhurried, almost floating above the cool earth with each step as she removed the belt that secured her tunic. Her gaze, equally unhurried, took in every detail of his form; the way the moonlight painted a masterful, silvery portrait on his body; the way his movements spoke to her in a language she couldn't decipher, but with a melody she innately knew.

By the time she reached him, she was left with only her long tunic flowing loosely over her frame. Even if he continued to pretend he didn't see her there, he might notice the soft hues of magenta, violet, indigo and green that limned her hands as she slipped them around his waist.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Past a certain point indeed was it a game for him to pretend to not be aware of her presence. Like the shadow of a phoenix cast from above with the sun high overhead. But when her arms encircled him the game was over and he glanced back at her with a long, heavy glance. He would then turn in her embrace, peering down at her, and without a word he would embrace her as well.

Slow, purposeful, strong arms would squeeze around Elinyra's sides, snaking over her hips, before gripping her rear with both hands. This grip was used to pull in and up, lifting her to the tips of her toes as he leans down to engulf her lips with his. No words were needed now, only the firm press of his body down and into hers, only the firm, continual insistence of his lips onto hers.

Only the flickering of a slowly-building flame that may very well be capable of scorching even a phoenix if she was not careful.

But of course he thought of that as well. Deepening the kiss to something just a bit hungrier, a bit more ravenous, he would gently slide his hands beneath her tunic. Fingertips would skim her skin in soft touches before moving around to her stomach, then up her body, avoiding her chest on purpose, he would disentangle her arms from around him and hold her hands in his. The kiss breaking as her pressed his forehead into hers and asked.

"Are you prepared, my daring phoenix, or will you be the hermit crab tonight?"

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

She met his kiss with equal zeal, tracing faint trails of fairie fire up his back and shoulders with her fingertips before wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulled him closer, daring his inner fire to kindle on this cool autumn night that carried the sweet scent of jasmine.

Just as she felt her flame come to life at the behest of his bewitching touch. She parted from him only reluctantly when he pulled away, her breaths quickened in expectation. She entwined her fingers with his momentarily, until he asked his question.

Still, she did not speak. Rather, she pushed away from him and, with a playful, come-hither expression, fell backwards into the pool with a luminescent splash and the billowing of her loose tunic.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

He watched her with idle amusement as Elinyra fell backwards into the pool. With slow, idle motions would he disrobe himself entire and join her, though he did not jump into the pool, did not hurry. He got in slowly, purposefully, and would scoop beneath Elinyra's floating body with his arms, holding her. One hand gripping her thigh and the other her shoulder he would sweep his gaze down her form and then meet her eyes with a challenge.

"It seems you have me at a disadvantage..... what should we do about this?"

His voice would drop to a murmur, setting Elinyra down so she could stand, and as she removed her 'advantage' he would be ready to kindle her flame. To ignite a phoenix's fire with nothing but the heat of his soul and desire. For her.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

That equinox night, when darkness and light stood as equals, Elinyra truly felt that she had left the ashes of her old self behind in the crucible of their passion. She relinquished the shell that bound her heart into his care, just as she relinquished all pretense of control, of forethought, to the rhythms of that most primal dance.

And when the grey morning crept into the window of the bedroom they'd retreated to, she rolled over to rest her head on her lover's chest and feel its slow rise and fall as he breathed. When she saw that he was awake, she traced her fingertips up his stomach and chest before pulling herself up to his lips to give him a kiss.

She started to say something, but thought it was best to wait until the haze of infatuation and ecstacy loosened its hold on her.

"Good morning," she murmured instead.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus would waken to the gentle touch of woman he had become intimately familiar with by now. As her fingers danced upon his skin he would slowly open his eyes and take a particularly deep, steady breathe. The kiss was met with equal, if slightly sluggish, intent and after only a moment to stretch his limbs Elinyra Derwinthir 's good morning greeting would be met with a slow, purposeful lifting of her sleeping form wholly atop him. Letting her truly lay upon him as his arms encircled her torso and around her head, holding her ear to his chest for a moment before he adjusted his grip upon her to turn her gaze up to him.

Amber would meet forest for a moment before he leaned down and engulfed her. A kiss of his own being given as his legs entangled hers, his arms possessed her body, and his lips took her own. Swaddling her fully and completely in the warmth of his being for a long, deep moment before he pulled away, brushed her hair aside with his fingertips, and would rumble in return.

"Good morning, my Elinyra."

A softer kiss would be placed between her eyes, then the bones of her cheeks, then her forehead, her chin and finally he would roll them over, briefly pinning her, only to then swing his legs out and stand. Perhaps having gotten her hopes up just a bit, before beginning to pull on his clothing slowly.​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

Elinyra relaxed into Petrus's embrace with an audible sigh of contentment before, as she'd discovered was his way, tenderness gave way to passion. It was a trait of his she decided she wholly enjoyed -- particularly in moments like this, when the heat of his desire emanated from his skin to wash her in its glow.

She caressed his jawline with her fingers while they were wrapped in each other, reveling in each kiss, basking in his inner flame until...

He left her in the bed with a taste of yearning still on her tongue.

"Ay, rwyt ti'n fy mé!" Oh, you wound me, she said sarcastically, smirking as she gave him a swat on the backside before casting a bewildered glance at the bed, which was covered in crimson flower petals. Looking back at the pillow she'd been laying on, she realized that they had grown in her hair overnight and were now falling like autumn leaves.

And of course, her 'clever' idea with the pool last night had left her tunic outside... soaking wet. She couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or amused, so she landed in between the two with a groan that resolved into a chuckle.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus would glance back at Elinyra as she swatted him, a mixture of amusement and the low, flickering flame of passion in his eyes, before he simply continued to put on his clothing. After he was dressed and turned back to her he would note the fallen leaves with a mixed sense of haughty pride and mirth. It was the first time the phrase 'knocked the leaves out of her' could be used in the bedroom but..... he took it as it's own form of praise anyways.

As Elinyra gave her half-groan and half-chuckle he would smile a soft, covert thing. He knew why and so, reaching out to take her hands, he would softly guide her to her feet and remark.

"Stand here, I will help dress you."

Stepping to the dresser he would then add wryly.

"Assuming the joy of me providing you clothing does not cause flowers to bloom in your hair, of course."

Surprisingly all Petrus would return to her with was a sash and he would kiss her gently before beginning to wrap it around her head and whisper in a sultry rumble of a whisper.

"And that the excitement of this does not cause any other reactions....."

Slowly would he blindfold her, the sash wrapping round and round until it left Elinyra in darkness with nothing but the sounds of Petrus's preparations as he procured her outfit for the day.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

"Assuming the joy of me providing you clothing does not cause flowers to bloom in your hair, of course."

She felt her cheeks redden at his mention of her hair's unruly plant aspect. She was not one to typically wear her heart on her sleeves, but it seemed that this aggravating flora was set on putting it on display elsewhere.

"It had better not..." she muttered under her breath. There was a part of her that wanted to remind Petrus that she was perfectly capable of dressing herself, but she let herself play along, merely raising a quizzical eyebrow at the sash in his hands.

"And that the excitement of this does not cause any other reactions....."

"I make no promises," she teased, letting him wrap the layers of soft cloth around her eyes. She listened to the sound of sliding drawers and the faint rustle of fabric in the unseen room and wondered what mystery clothing she would be wearing today.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus was nothing approaching kind or subtle to Elinyra as she relented to the touch of the blindfold. Even as he gathered the outfit he knew he desired to see her in her did not spare himself the gentlest ghosts of touches to her seemingly at random. His motions were silent, deliberate, taunting even. A rough finger caressing just below her ribs horizontally across her stomach. A warm palm pressing into her hip. The barest scratch of fingernails down the base of her throat down to the valley of her chest. No clothing was given until he genuinely tested to see if he could invoke some change from her hair as promised.

Whatever the result his motions in dressing her were no less deliberate, slow, taunting and tender. A light, fluffy garment was brought over her, her arms raised as the silken shirt slid down onto her form. Only when her head poked from the hole in the shirt was she kissed slowly, her lip bitten, before his hands released the hem of the shirt and swept low on her stomach in a tender touch.

Over time more and more fabric would be put upon her. Soft stockings to her legs, a dress that from the weight and gentle brush of it's skirt went down just past her knees. On and on it went until, finally, he steps away and slowly began to unravel the blindfold from her eyes.

Spoiler: Outfit

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

She enjoyed the game of unseen touches, venturing even to try to return some the best she could in her current condition. Her hair did not change this time from its normal mixture of earthen browns and deep mossy green; it merely tumbled down around the shirt as it was placed over her head. Her voice, however, participated enthusiastically, rewarding every brush of his fingers with soft sighs and hums of pleasure.

The blindfold dropped away and she looked down at her attire with a bemused expression. The stark contrast of black and white, the puffy sleeves and ruffled edges -- she could hardly think of a less practical outfit for someone to wear. Unless they were cooking, perhaps?

"What... is... this?" she asked slowly, investigating the apron. She'd seen blacksmiths wear heavy leather aprons before... but this one wouldn't have protected her from a spilled drink, much less a spark.

She cast Petrus a suspicious look. "Is this... some sort of uniform?"

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus's gaze would become sharper and more intense as Elinyra set about investigating her new outfit. once again giving a heavy enough gaze to seem a stalking jungle cat before he drew in a breathe at her suspicious look and clarified.

"Of a sort."

Petrus would gently use that selfsame apron to tug Elinyra closer, letting his gaze roam up and down her form before settling on her eyes.

"Humor me. Call it a.... challenge.... to see if the trappings of my world are too much for you to dwell within for a time."

Moving away from Elinyra he would hold her gaze as he added.

"For what it is worth you look.... like removing it will be even more enjoyable than putting it on."

He then turned and opened the door, began to step through, and glanced back at her meaningfully.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

At least she agreed with his last statement, though she expected for very different reasons. This outfit was very restricting compared to what she was used to, and ridiculous looking besides. She was indeed looking forward to removing it.

"Emphasis on trappings, in this case," she muttered, rather more acidly than intended. The look she gave him on her way out did not suggest that she found it amusing. But she dropped it, for the time being: she had to take care of Fielynn's needs this morning, and she still had business to attend to in the city.

---

Once she had found more suitable clothing and finished breakfast, Elinyra, Fwysog and Fielynn made their way towards Fal'Addareth. A sense of relief overcame Elinyra as she looked upon the magnificent tree. There she would entrust the cursed dagger into the care of one of the most protected vaults in the world, and finally rid the lands of the Vyrran blight.

It was time.

There was only one main entrance into Fal'Addareth on the ground level; a protective measure to ensure that the fortress would remain well-defended in case of a siege. But there were many arteries leading from other parts of the city to allow the residents -- particularly the elves that knew every in and out of the forest -- to make haste there should the need arise.

They were presently walking along one such artery, which in the masterful way of the elves wandered through a park with a small pond. Elinyra paused to admire it.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" a pleasant voice asked. Elinyra turned to see an elven man cutting back some bamboo with a machete. He gave the group a curious but friendly smile.

"Quite," replied Elinyra. "Beautiful garden you have here."

He thanked her and went back to work while she briefly enjoyed the serene tranquility of all the large leaves crowding around the edges of the shady pond. Even in the early morning light, obscured as it was by the enormous canopy far above, it evoked the dreamy quiet of late evening.

She yawned despite herself. Maybe it was a little too peaceful. Why was she so sleepy?

She yawned again and turned to bid the the garden tender farewell as they departed, only to find him face-down on the ground. She rushed forward to try to help him, only to find the world around her moving so.... impossibly... slowly.

It is time to sleep. Time to dream, a voice dripped like candle wax in her mind.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar