Private Tales Honing the Edge

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
She watched him as he averted his gaze from her and she hesitated for a moment before fingertips drifted along the line of his jaw to bring his attention back to her.. "Uvo..." she spoke softly, a quiver of hopelessness in her tone.

Nym's eyes followed his to the burn on her wrist and she frowned briefly, running both hands into his hair to grip gently at the dark waves as she pressed her forehead to his and mollified her racing heart with a few deep breaths.

"Then stop looking at me like I've wounded you and speak to me.." she pleaded calmly
 
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“No, you haven’t,” his hand fell over hers on his cheek as he assured her. “I... don’t want to hurt you. But, I cannot promise that I won’t.”

His gaze lingered over the bruises he’d left on her skin, then the lack of any on his. He frowned and finally met her gaze.

“Why didn’t you leave?”
 
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Nym's head shook and she dropped her gaze for a brief moment of reprieve, trying to hide the hurt in her eyes at the thought of him having to hurt her at all. Anger stirred again and her jaw clenched but she pulled in a breath and looked back up at him with a soft frown as she searched his eyes.. "No.. I know. If Gerra wants to hurt me he will, whether it be by his hand or yours.."

She seemed to struggle with his question, she didn't truthfully know what the answer was, just that she didn't want to leave him. "Because I know you don't want to hurt me.. Because he's taken enough from me and I want you and why should I allow him to take the only thing that I enjoy?..." she frowned deeply at him.

"If you want me to leave..." she added quietly. "I don't want to put you in a difficult position.."
 
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Uvogin's silence was painfully long. He closed his eyes, enjoying her fingers that were still in his hair, and her forehead that was still pressed against his.

"No," he whispered, "Stay. Please."

The captain's lips pressed into a thin line.

"I don't want to see you hurt, by my hand or Gerra's." He never asked for anything of his friend, the Emperor. "I'll... have a word with him."
 
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The silence was utterly deafening, but she wouldn't push him, she'd let him make up his mind in his own time. Her legs loosened their grip on him, but her fingers continued to curl and tug gently at his hair as she combed them through it and just breathed, trying to distract herself.

What was in his mind? He was impossibly difficult to fathom.

With the tone as it was, Nym tried to suppress her feelings at his words, but a curling smile betrayed her as he asked her to stay and her arms wrapped around him to hold onto him and let her fingertips explore the back of his neck. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and sighed.

Somehow she doubted Uvogin had ever 'had a word' with the Emperor, and the gesture was not lost on her, but it did stir fear.. "I'm.. not so sure that’s the best idea. I don’t know him like you do but I’m pretty sure I pissed him off. If he knows I spoke to you he might just tell you to kill me out of spite. He can’t have me, what if he decides you can’t either?..” she spoke delicately, as though he might break if her voice rose even slightly.
 
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Uvogin traced a finger up her spine as they embraced.

“He is my friend, Nymeasha. He will listen to what I have to say.”

Clutching her shoulders, he pushed her away so he could meet her gaze.

“I decide on what I can have,” he tucked a strand of hair that hung over her face behind her ear. He didn’t want her to worry anymore.

Uvogin, who’d always wanted others to fear him, for the first time, wanted the opposite of this young woman.

As if handling something fragile, he gently kissed her.
 
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Her eyes closed for a brief moment of calm and she allowed a sigh to escape, the touch on her spine going straight to her mind to soothe her worry. Lashes fluttered open again as he pushed her gently away and her skin felt instantly chilled by the space between them.

There was a slight narrowing of her gaze, as though to betray her doubts and uncertainty over whether he really could make that decision, and if Gerra really was his friend.. She hoped he was, for Uvogin's sake, not hers.

He was quiet obviously conflicted. A contradiction to himself, even in the way he now so tenderly brushed back her hair after the anger she'd felt in him just moments before but she'd happily ride the wave. He kissed her and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. She ran her fingers down his sides, grappling and pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest again.

Nym didn't deserve happiness, but for a brief moment she ached for it. He was just as broken as she was, moreso, even, and she had the most hopeless of desires to comfort him and allow him to do the same for her. Whatever this was, it was comfort, pleasure, warmth and moments of contentment, everything she'd never had and she hadn't realised she ever needed.

"Just be careful.." she sighed as their lips parted from one another and she fell into those dark pools, her lips bearing some semblance of a smile as she considered why he'd even have cared enough in the first place.

"I liked that dress..." she smirked.
 
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“I’m the most careful person in the desert.”

Uvogin’s fingers locked over the small of Nymeasha’s back as if to prevent something from pulling her away. He frowned. No, smiled? It was some contorted but quaint expression that bordered the two.

“Sorry.” He said, “I’ll make it up to you. Somehow.”

A hand glided over her skin to the outside of her hip, then down her thigh.

“Would you still like to be marked by me?” He whispered.
 
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Nym mirrored that same contradiction of expressions, her brow furrowed as she laughed under her breath at him.. "I think you've more than made it up to me...I have plenty others."

She sighed deeply at his question, her cheeks dimpling slightly as she could do nothing to stop the bright smile that spread across her face and she nodded and trailed a hand to rest over the one he currently had on her thigh..

"Yes.." she whispered back with a husky laugh and ran fingers into his hair.. "Now?.." she quirked her brow, her smile twisting like someone very used to getting what she wanted.
 
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"I liked that one," Uvogin mumbled a response.

His other hand held her face. That impish smile, the way Nymeasha's green eyes lit up when their gaze met. He kissed her once on her lips and returned her smile.

"Yes. Now."
 
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He was smiling again, and she was soothed, though her arms wrapped around his neck to press her smile against his because once more simply wasn't enough.

"Alright...But at least let me sit on something a little more comfortable." she laughed under her breath and wrapped her legs back around him with a quirk of her brow that asked if he expected her to walk...
 
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“Of course, Princess,” he breathed a soft chuckle and, holding onto her rear, lifted her off the desk with no apparent effort. He walked across the office to the door that lead to his private quarters and crossed into the room.

Uvogin gently laid her on the bed, and after fetching a pair of pants to cover himself with, gathered the necessary tools to begin. A small basin of water, a couple rags, ink, and a stick with needles attached. He dipped the rag into the basin and wrung the water out.

“What made you want this?” he wiped down the side of her thigh with the rag.
 
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Nym smiled up at him from the far more comfortable bed and stretched herself out to ease her aching muscles, her sun kissed skin sinewy and glistening with sweat. She rolled onto her stomach and pulled a pillow to rest her head on, unable to help but reach out and run her fingers through his hair as he got started.

She wasn't sure whether his question was directed at her desire to be marked, or the subject of it, and so she'd answer both.. "I like yours.. They tell your story, and they're personal..Intimate even. I like the idea of you leaving that sort of mark on me." she bit gently on her lip..

"And I suppose the snake fits with what I am.. People called me a Viper. Some thought it was a compliment to me, to be likened to something deadly and poisonous, something to be avoided.. But, they're resilient..I like how they shed their skin and leave part of themselves behind.." she frowned thoughtfully..
 
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“The Viper of Salitra,” the captain wryly smiled and dried her thigh with a different rag. He began drawing the general shape of the snake with a thin stick of charcoal and steady hand, occasionally erasing small errors and fixing them. He then went back and added small details; scales, and the snake’s belly.

Just under an hour had passed as Uvogin wrapped up the stencil. He leaned back. The stencil stretched from her hip to her mid-thigh. As he imagined the finished image, a small wave of delight washed over him.

“How is that?”
 
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She watched him draw, her lips twisting now and then at his concentration and she realised that she was staring but she didn't care, she could only smile, glad that the tensions from earlier had eased. She managed to push her worries about Gerra to the back of her mind and she'd leave them alone for now. He couldn't have this time, this time was peaceful and theirs.

Her cheeks dimpled as she looked over the stencil and she nodded, a sparkle of excitement in her eyes as she looked at him. "Perfect." she bit on her lip, and relaxed herself..

"Try not to hurt me too much." she smirked, half burying her face in the pillow and peeking up at him with a playful wink.
 
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"It's not so bad," he assured her with a small chuckle. Nymeasha was, well, adorable. So much that he nearly forgot how deadly she was. The duality was exhilarating.

He'd done this to old comrades before, though it was many years ago. Uvogin picked up a skinny stick in his right hand and pressed his left onto her hip before dipping the end of the stick, which had tiny needles, into an inkwell.

"Okay," his voice trailed. He rested the stick between his left thumb and forefinger before carefully poking the needles into Nymeasha's skin, tracing the charcoal outline with several repeated pokes. Of course, there was some initial pain. There always was. The pain was fleeting, and as Uvogin entered a rhythm, it became almost therapeutic.
 
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A soft smile curled at the corners of her mouth as he offered reassurance and she watched him curiously, her eyes moving between his face and hands as she waited on the pain.

She flinched slightly at the first bite of the needles, but after a few more she eased and had to bite down on her lip to suppress her grin as she watched him.

Nym’s tolerance of pain was above average but pain was pain and after the second hour she was biting that bit harder on her lip.

“You really do get off on torture.” She muffled and growled quietly into her pillow with a chuckle.
 
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"Says you," he whispered but did not stop the rhythmic poking, "squirming about like that. Who exactly is getting off?"

He remembered his first. A trio of women under the right side of his chest, along his ribs. The man that had done it was rather heavy-handed during the process, and the way Uvogin had writhed the whole time was nothing short of embarrassing.

Of course, he wouldn't admit to it.

"Almost done," he sighed, wiped his brow with his forearm, and continued. "You are doing well."

Several minutes passed, and as he darkened the last bit of the outline, he gave the finished image a heavy wipe with a damp rag. Wiping the markings had always been the most unpleasant feeling, at least to Uvogin. As cloth rubbed over her raw, sensitive skin, his own crawled from imagining the sensation.

"Have a look," he said after wiping the smeared ink clean from her skin. All that remained was the dark lines of a coiled snake.
 
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Nym laughed into the pillow and turned to grin at him mischievously. “Perhaps a little.” she mused and ran her fingers into her hair for the last few minutes and her fingers and toes curled.

Her entire body tensed and she let out a hiss through gritted teeth as he wiped over her branded skin, giving a pained laugh and glaring at him in reprimand.

Her features softened and lit up though as she looked down at his artwork and she beamed. “Fuck me that’s hot.” she laughed quietly and sat up, gentle running a fingertip over the raised and angry skin, tracing the outline.

“I’m impressed...” She lifted her gaze to meet his with a grin.. “I suppose I’m branded a viper for life..” she mused, standing on the bed so that she could strut a little in admiration of her new art.

“What do you think?..” her brow arched as she twirled, still naked on her tiptoes. “I think I’m going to need more.” She smirked.
 
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He watched her with some small amount of amusement.

“I’ve had practice. I’m no artist, but,” he nodded, “it turned it well.”

Uvogin was absorbed in Nymeasha, the way the young Princess twirled on the mattress encapsulated his attention. He stood, and a hand rose and loosely gripped the side of her neck.

“This means you are mine now,” his hand slid up her neck and rested her cheek.
 
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Nym knelt on the bed in front of him as he reached for her, leaning into his touch and staring at him in bewilderment.. His?.. "Does it now?.." her lips curled briefly as she fell into those dark pools of his and slowly started to drown..

She wasn't entirely sure what that meant, she'd been so desperately trying not to let her infatuation of the Captain consume her for fear of being discarded, but she was failing miserably and any time spent away from him was too long. She craved him, morning, noon and night..especially night. Still she was aware that she had no right to claim him, it didn't stop her enjoying him whilst she could, even the sound of his voice had her quivering.

Her head turned to press her lips to his wrist and she sighed before looking back at him.. "I can only be yours, Captain Uvogin, if you are mine, and I am sure the ladies of Ragash would wail from dusk til dawn to know that the most handsome man in the city belonged to one woman... Because I don't share." her head tilted, a dangerous glimmer in her emerald hues as she searched his face with amusement.. "So be careful with your claims.."
 
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"The Princess wants me all to herself," he mused aloud and held her face tighter, "sounds nice."

A viper indeed. A chill crawled up his spine, and he met her fatally enticing gaze. Deep, oceanic blues melted into vibrant greens, and he kissed her.

"I am the most careful man in Amol-Kalit," he whispered as their lips parted, and he smiled.

"Stay here tonight."
 
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Teeth captured her lower lip somewhat shyly at his words and she felt her skin warm slightly, her confidence riding in dips and waves.. Fingers raked through his hair as he kissed her, the act a welcome comfort after the hours of pain she'd endured. She remained close to him as he broke the kiss, grazing her lips over his, feeling his whisper and mirroring his smile.. "Alright.." she whispered in response, noting that it hadn't been a question.

"And would you share me? If I were truly yours?.." her brow arched as she pushed back to roll herself into the sheets.. "Would your friends still desire me?.." she added and immediately bit on her lip, wishing she'd done so before she'd said it.
 
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His hand trailed over her frame as she rolled away and fell away from her skin as she pulled the sheets up over her body.

"You would not be shared," he spat, "like a hookah pipe. No."

Uvogin frowned, and he looked across the room towards nothing in particular. There it was, that bitterness. That nauseating swelling in his gut.
 
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Her slender brow arched at his words that dripped disdain and she dropped her gaze from him for a moment to smile to herself, but as she lifted her eyes to his face again it was clear the atmosphere had changed again and it was her doing. She bit down on her lip again, this time so hard that she could taste the coppery taint of blood on her tongue.

"I shouldn't have said that.." her brow creased, and she rolled onto her side to reach for his hand, hoping to pull him to her.

"I'm a ‘free’ woman, Uvogin." she laughed under her breath at how ridiculous it sounded, she had never been anything of the sort. "At least free enough to make some decisions for myself." she smirked, purposefully sliding her burned arm under the pillow and resting her head atop it..

"You already have me to yourself.. Is it so bad that I might want the same thing?" she frowned gently. It irked her that women should not expect that from men, why shouldn't they? The thought of him with another woman now made her skin crawl, and she'd never been able to bite her tongue about matters women should simply have remained silent about and accepted.
 
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