Fable - Ask No Fury

[Nym]

Nym hadn't answered him as he made his offer, not verbally at least. She'd simply looked at him for a moment, really looked at him, and her jaw ached as she tried and failed miserably to suppress the smile that her eyes had already betrayed. Her throat cleared and she'd turned away from him to let her hold on her smile break.

As he returned she leaned on the desk to watch curiously as he worked on a tincture, her lips twisting and nose wrinkling with apprehension, and her jade hues rose to meet his gaze as he cautioned her. She reached to take the cup with a light nod and swirled it around, studying it with uncertainty. "Another bottle of wine would have sufficed.." she grumbled before letting out a huff and throwing the drink back.

He wasn't kidding about the coughing. The concoction burned on the way down and she sputtered like a child, slamming the empty vessel down and pressing the back of her wrist against her lips as she coughed against it, her eyes tearing up and her face a petulant pout of repugnance as she shot him a glare.

She could still taste it after breakfast, after she'd chewed on sweet tasting herbs and rinsed her mouth with more water and wine, but the headache was gone. Nym made sure her horse was well tended to before they set off, and she pulled in close to Settra as they continued with the next stage of their journey, her gaze cast over her shoulder at the view of the dusty city behind them.

"That was eventful." she concluded with a small smirk, and kicked her heels to stretch her horse's legs a little.

 

[Settra]

"Perhaps. But more wine wouldn't have fixed the aching."

Settra's face softened and he let a puff of air blow from his nostrils at the sight of Nym's apparent revulsion to the soul reviver, the corner of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. He felt bad that she caught the bitter end of the drink, but couldn't help but find a little amusement in her reaction.

"I did warn you." He reminded her plainly.

The duo packed and set out quickly. Best to make use of the lower morning temperatures while they could, he assumed. It was good to be out of that town; charming as it was, he wasn't a fan of the seedier side and was glad to be back in the relative familiarity of the desert.

"Indeed," He replied, privately eager to be riding this close together. "I imagine things will only become more eventful the closer we come to your mark."

 

[Nym]

"Right..Navran." she murmured quietly, pulling in a deep breath of air and letting it out in a head-clearing sigh as she tried to focus her mind on the matter. "I suppose the fact that he shares my father's name is no coincidence, a cousin of his, perhaps, but I've never heard mention of him." her head shook.

Her knuckles paled as her grip tightened subconsciously on her reins as she thought of home, her gaze narrowed on the vast landscape ahead. She wondered if it was worth it or whether she should turn back rather than face going back home. Ragash, in some strange way, had been more of a home to her than Salitra ever had been. The place held no fondness for her, all she'd ever been there was a ghost, haunting it's streets and palace halls at night. She'd believed the memories of her father had been happy, when he'd praised her, trusted her, it was what she'd lived for, but as more time passed those delusions and beliefs were slowly twisted and warped. It was a difficult thing, to admit how easily manipulated she could be.

"My mother and brothers are there..." she spoke up after a while. "They were sent back home. I chose to stay in Ragash." she glanced to him, perhaps seeking a little more of that comfort he so freely offered her in her anxiety. What would they think of her?.. Would they care?

 

[Settra]

"I suppose the fact that he shares my father's name is no coincidence, a cousin of his, perhaps, but I've never heard mention of him."

"Curious." The assassin mulled over the odd circumstances as he rode beside her. The fact that this had become a family affair definitely made things more complicated. "Perhaps someone with a grudge against your father?"

Regardless of the changing nature of the task, the objective was still the same. Settra was prepared to see it through. Nym, however, seemed to be apprehensive. Family was a touchy subject, if anything was to be gathered from his interactions with her over the past few days. While he didn't want to provoke her ire again, she did seem somewhat more receptive towards his attempts at consoling her.

"I'm sure they will be happy to see you again, Nym." He expressed in his gravelly baritone, dark eyes gazing softly upon her from beneath his coverings. "You've done them no wrong. You need not worry."

If anything, they were the ones who should feel anxious at meeting Nymeasha again, Settra thought. After all, they allowed the Emir to lock her away and raise her as a tool, rather than a daughter.

 

[Nym]

Nym couldn't suppress the laugh that worked it's way passed her lips and the discontent shattered as she looked at him.. "My father... a grudge?.." she asked sarcastically and the smile on her face brightened with genuine amusement. "Well that's absolutely nothing to go on.." she chuckled and sighed.

She had worshipped her father, she'd even believed him a good ruler, but she had since learned exactly the sort of man that he was. Still, she knew that if he were alive she'd still love and serve him all the same, because she was so frustratingly weak and dependent. It was a realisation that festered into self-loathing, that caused her jaw to clench and her teeth to grind in her sleep. Sleep, which now that she'd known warm embrace, she could not do on her own for fear of being cold and abandoned.

She was young, and despite everything she done and seen done she was sheltered from everything but death. Family, friends, warmth, love.. they were all things she wanted to know and yet would never deserve, and it was a bitter pill to swallow.

"They don't know me. Not really.. There won't be any happiness, there won't be anything.." she huffed and shrugged her shoulders with a small smile. "Thank you, Settra.." she nodded, and picked up her pace a little.

 

[Settra]

Nym's sarcasm wasn't lost on the assassin. If there was one thing he'd learned in his time working for Medja it was that those who dared to seize power had a proportional amount of enemies. That was why his mistress surrounded herself with so many trustworthy and competent individuals: damage prevention and reduction. The Hands could not be bought and were ever eager to prove themselves to the Vizier of Stars, to the point that those that posed even the slightest threat to her never got near her, one way or another. Her own incredible magics were certainly a deterrent as well.

Settra laughed along with the princess, a short, gruff chortle. Then she was right back into her funk. He let out a small sigh, inaudible over the din of the horses. The Onyx Hand truly hoped that peace of mind and heart awaited Nymeasha at the end of this road. In his heart he had already decided to do anything he could to help her find it.

"They may, in time. Once this is over, maybe. You'll have a lot of time on your hands to do what you like after we're finished." He spoke thoughtfully, in a measured manner. "You could get to know your family better. Or go see more of the world, like you said."

"Thank you, Settra.."

The road ahead would be long and tiring, he realized. He didn't care. He nodded back and watched as she pulled forward, and continued to chase the dawn.

. . .
​

Several days passed in monotony. The desert was harsh as ever, but the duo travelled the safest routes, avoiding any further conflict with its fauna or less savory residents. The sun guided them by day, soft winds rolling across the dunes to provide some minor relief from their guide's withering heat. The stars guided them by night, for what little time they travelled during it. Sundown and rise were the most efficient times to travel, despite the risks that came with voyaging in the low light.

At last, the walls of Salitra came into view. A familiar, likely bittersweet sight to Nym, but a fresh one to Settra. The smell of sea salt filled the air, carried aloft on the hot desert wind. Settra looked to Nym to study her reaction. He understood this would likely not be an easy visit.

 

[Nym]

Nym's gaze narrowed against the stifling, salty breeze as they finally settled on Salitra. She paused for a moment, seeming to wait for her own reaction, and it surprised her that she felt absolutely nothing at all for the city or it's inhabitants. The city wouldn't remember her, it hadn't known her in order to have forgotten her. There would be no warm welcome, no comforting embrace. All she felt was the rage simmering under the surface, the fury that what had once been hers was now within Gerra's grip. Subconsciously she looked to her arm, the scar she expected to see no longer there but still very much imprinted on her mind. It was a bone-deep sort of rage, kept at bay and now rushing back, like pressure against cracking glass.

She glanced to Settra and dipped her chin, and pulled her silk scarf around her mouth and nose before clicking her tongue and kicking the horse gently into a canter. In truth, she was unsure what she would do when she arrived. Still Princess of Salitra by birthright but she held absolutely no power, not that she ever truly had, but she could not simply stride into the palace and demand to see her Mother, nor was she likely to find this man by using his name for he'd be a fool to use it himself.

"We can find some place to rest first.." she called to him as she slowed to a walk, ignoring the eyes on her as she made her way through the narrow streets that slowly grew wider, passed the people who's ramshackle homes that slowly grew larger, their bellies more full and their clothes far grander until her emerald hues drifted up over the palace that loomed ominously before them. It was not as large as the palace in Ragash, nor was it as warm or welcoming. Her father had not wished it to be. She sighed and turned down the road and where the market sat like a cluster of old wives in the centre of the square, and she slipped from her horse at the first inn, one of the finer establishments, a place she'd only stayed for long enough to murder some unfortunate nobles she did not know the names of whilst they slept.

One room and two meals were paid for as the last of her coin was emptied from her purse, and the horses were taken to be tended to. Nym could have cried at the sight of the large, ostentatious bathtub that sat in the centre of their room in front of the large balcony that looked onto the palace. Their things were brought to the room for them, the water for the bath was warmed for them, the wine was poured for them, and Nym smiled gratefully behind the scarf that wouldn't fall from her face until the pair were finally left alone.

"This will do...." she smirked and lifted a cup of wine to her lips.

 

[Settra]

Much to Settra's surprise, Nym's expression didn't shift at all. There were no visible shifts in her body language, no change in posture or clenched jaws or deep sighs. For one reason or another, the princess was prepared for her return. Whether that was due to apathy or acceptance he couldn't be sure, but he followed her nonetheless.

There was no trouble at the gates, thankfully. Settra took in the environment around him as they walked the streets of Salitra. The effects of the Empire's occupation could still be seen and felt here and there; the visible slums in certain parts of the city and the presence of Imperial soldiers on the occasional street corner fit the reports that the assassin had read following the Sacking.

Before long the duo were in a more upscale district. While Salitra was nowhere near as sickeningly lavish as Ragash, the inn that Nym picked was a far cry from the humble hotel they'd stayed at in Nimra. The princess spared no expense in ensuring they'd be comfortable during their stay, that was certain.

With a great sigh, Settra pulled his coverings from his face and let them drop to the floor. Food and drink were exactly what he needed after their trek through the wastes of Amol-Kalit. As quickly as relief had washed over him, however, Settra noted Nym's smirk and raised a curious brow. Curiosity turned to embarrassment when he finally noticed the bath, steam wafting off of the surface in the now cooling evening air. He glanced back to Nym, blushing in spite of himself.

"I, um...can leave, if you'd like me to."

 

[Nym]

“Settra... The most skilled assassin in Amol Kalit, favourite of the great Vizier, Medja the Smiter.. Are you blushing?” she asked coyly, unable to sustain the look of shock and surprise she held for as long as it took her to tease him. A bright smile warmed her features as she laughed musically and crunched on a grape.

“I have nothing to hide, it is just skin..” she shrugged, her fingertips dancing across the steaming hot surface of the bath water. Her smile withered, quickly feeling guilty for teasing him.. for assuming it was alright at all, just as she had done when she’d climbed into his bed for warmth.

“I’m sorry. If you would find it more comfortable to leave then you should do so. I just.. I don’t mind.” she quirked a brow, but her gaze was on the rippling water as she took another long sip of wine.

 

[Settra]

“Settra... The most skilled assassin in Amol Kalit, favourite of the great Vizier, Medja the Smiter.. Are you blushing?”

He could feel his cheeks burning even as she teased him. The fact baffled himself: he was a ruthless killer and an accomplished spellblade, but his nerves were getting the better of him at the idea of seeing a woman naked. It wasn't even as if he had never seen such a thing before; once again, his time with Medja had given him ample time to become accustomed to the sight...the mistress didn't exactly have much of a concept of modesty.

"N-no, I..."

This, however, was different. He could feel his heart pound in his throat. He wanted to punch himself, if for no other reason then to snap himself out of whatever he was doing right this moment.

“I have nothing to hide, it is just skin..”

Maybe to some. But to Settra, who had been caught inside his own head for about a week now, who had been travelling with and getting to Nymeasha this whole time...his mind was once again pulling him in three different directions.

"Nym deserves the basic respect of privacy."

"You're not worthy to look upon her."

"I want to be closer to her."

The thoughts raced. His mind was a concert at its crescendo.

“I’m sorry. If you would find it more comfortable to leave then you should do so. I just.. I don’t mind.”

Suddenly, quiet. Settra's eyes focused, and he locked his gaze on Nym from the other side of the tub.
"No, it is fine. I think a bath is exactly what we both need after our journey." He replied, suddenly confident. "In fact...I would very much enjoy your company, Nymeasha."

Nym had already seen his face, and he'd become comfortable with that fact. As if to prove his mettle, he took a few steps towards her and began to disrobe in plain view. No need for shame. Nothing to hide.

 

[Nym]

Her verdant gaze rose to him as he stuttered and paused, and she chewed subtly on the inside of her lip as she wondered what in the Gods name she was doing. She had grown comfortable in his presence, perhaps a little too much so, and now she appeared to be making him feel quite the opposite. She had caught his glances, felt him watch her even as she pretended to sleep. It made her feel safe, like by watching her the way he did he'd be able to see the cracks forming and stop her from shattering to pieces.

Nym had a habit of allowing herself to get too comfortable, of latching on to the smallest modicum of affection of which she'd been so cruelly starved, of which she had no right to, nor did she deserve it. She wished she had never known such a thing, wished that her father were still here, that her life had not changed so drastically, that she'd never had the chance to open her heart to anything for it to be crushed like she knew deep down that it would be. She had never considered herself a fragile thing before, it was not how she was raised or how she was taught; she could endure true pain, slaughter who had to be slaughtered without a flinch of remorse, but heartache was new and crippling and things were better when her heart had been cold and untouched.

Settra was a fragile thing too, and guilt whispered it's cruel words at the back of her mind. She knew he wanted to be closer to her, but there was only so close a viper's prey could get before being inevitably crushed within it's jaws. Yes, she wanted him to want her, she wanted him to be closer to her, but she didn't deserve his affections. She didn't understand why he looked at her the way he did. Now as it seemed she had teased him out of his comfort zone, her lips parted, about to utter a protest, an assurance that she would give him the privacy that he deserved, only to be silenced by the unexpected sight of him without his armour, without his clothes and without his mask. It was as though he was baring more than just his flesh, layer by layer she had unwittingly been peeling away at his defences until he stood before her bare and vulnerable.

Yes, she stared. Her gaze wandered over the sight of his honed, muscular form and her eyes fixed on his as now she had a choice to make. Could this be as casual as she had pretended it would be, just a bath, 'just skin', or would she too be baring more than her body? Nym's apparent confidence wavered for a moment as she considered running for the door, but she pulled in a breath and brushed off her doubts, hoping the hot water would wash away the guilt along with the desert sand. She undressed slowly and stood, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around her naked and sand-dusted self and finding it utterly ridiculous how nervous she felt. It was just skin, wasn't it?

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and she stepped into the bath and sunk slowly into it, leaving room for him at the other side.

 

[Settra]

Settra had taken a leap of faith, confident that such an act would see him towards some sort of progress. Now the only thing he was certain of was that he'd flipped their former dynamic on its head. Nymeasha was the talkative, assured one; her silent, studious stare was not what he had expected as his answer. It took every fiber of his being not to immediately second guess himself and double back. He knew that would only make things worse if he did, however, so instead he breathed deep and pushed forward.

Silent as she was, she hadn't protested as he stripped down. Settra shook what little hooks tugged at the corners of his thoughts, what demons that made the scars on his back burn and attempted to spoil the moment with memories of prior times he had disrobed in front of another person. He was proud of who he was, of who life and fate had crafted him into. No need for shame. The assassin quite literally bore his all now.

Part of him enjoyed the feeling of her eyes on him. On the surface she wore a look of appreciation...different from those disdainful eyes of years ago. When her eyes rose from his body and back to his eyes they told a different story...her own doubt cast heavy, if her uncharacteristic quiet wasn't clear enough. He expected her to leave now, for certain. He had made an error in judgment. Foolish. She'd run off, or send him away, and his thoughts would torment him for making such a childish mistake.

But she didn't leave. She joined him, slowly, in his natural state. Settra could not pull his gaze from her form, conflicted between the soul-crushing guilt of not being worthy of the sight, and being awestruck...blessed by some unknown number of the Hundreds to be blessed with vision in this moment. All he could do is smile weakly, stunned in place for what felt like an eternity. He watched on as she slipped into the tub, still entranced, and finally willed his body to move to follow her.

There was room to get in on the opposite side of the large bath, but did he even want to occupy that space? No, he realized, he didn't. He wanted to be close to her again. He wanted her to feel comfortable with him. He wanted her to open up to him. His body moved of its own volition, however, and he sunk into his space on the far side of the tub.

Seconds of silence and stillness submerged in the warmth of the bath felt like agonizing hours. Don't double back, double down. Settra's dark eyes drifted left of the tub to a small tray that was left behind, soaps and sponges lying atop. Gently, he drifted forward and took the cleaning implements up, and came to kneel in the water in front of Nymeasha. He lifted one of her hands from the water with all the care one might take handling the most fragile of glass, and he watched the liquid run off her perfect skin. Holding the soap above her arm, he cautiously met her gaze once more and asked, nearly in a whisper:

"...May I?"

 

[Nym]

A long sigh tumbled from her lips as she settled back against the curve of the bathtub, soaking in the heated water and feeling it hug every inch of skin so gently, seeping into her aching muscles. Her gaze never left him as he stepped in after her and she watched him lower himself into the tub opposite her, taking in what scars she could now see that had before been obscured or hidden by armour and cloth, finding herself eager to read the stories their scribbles told. She had her own, of course, and the tattoo of the viper on her thigh that she kept submerged.

Her lips ached with the urge to speak but without the words with which to do so, and so she silently studied him as she reached for her wine and occupied her lips with slow sips and swirls of her cup. With him drifting toward her, she found herself sit up a little, her heart pitching as he took her hand so tenderly in his, as though they were the most fragile of hands and not the hands stained with the blood of countless. She had already been caged in his embrace, had already had his bare skin against her, but despite the touch being one so tender and innocent, being as exposed, as vulnerable, as defenceless as she was, the feeling of her hand in his sent a militia of chills racing over her skin and goosebumps blooming in their wake.

May I?...​

She pulled in a sharp breath and her eyes rose to meet his, her teeth latching onto her lower lip for a moment. Nym had never been that sort of princess. She had never once sneered or snapped her fingers at a servant, never once not smiled with gratitude, never once let them dress her, bathe her, comb her hair. She recalled the team of them that Gerra had ready to wash her in Annuakat and her brow furrowed gently as she looked at him. But this wasn't like that, this was tender, caring.. intimate. She knew she shouldn't have pushed him this far, she knew she shouldn't let him continue, that she should nip the flower in the bud before it blossomed and withered in the frost. But she nodded, finally, her eyes searching for a long moment before she slowly settled back and let her head fall against the tub with a sigh, letting her eyes close to follow his movements with her mind.

"Why are you so kind to me?.." she asked in a husky whisper, and her lips gave in to a twisting smile.

 

[Settra]

Taking the initiative, putting Nym on the backfoot...it wasn't something that Settra had pictured himself doing. He wasn't the type and he knew it, but the feeling of seeing the princess flustered was one that he couldn't help but like. He had always had a knack for the subtle, the minute, and every little reaction he evoked from her was a delight to behold. The raising of her skin and the little hairs on her arms at just his touch, the slight shift in her breath...he captured each moment in his mind and stored them away like precious pearls.

Moreso, however, were the more salient reactions that she produced, the very thing that had started to draw Settra in to begin with. The way she bit her lip, the way her eyes darted from his hand to his own dark orbs, her shift in posture; Settra had put her on the defensive, and in the moment he reveled in the feeling. Even more than that, he felt his heart sing when she nodded her approval and sank into a more relaxed position. Graceful and deliberate, he went to work.

Settra pulled himself a bit closer and gingerly lowered the bar of soap to the top of Nym's arm, allowing the smooth surface to just barely skim the surface. With his other hand he brought the warm water of the tub up and clasped his hand to the opposite side of her arm, locking the soft skin between his tender grasp.

"Why are you so kind to me?.."

Her voice, low and intoxicating, drew his focus. He needed a moment to fathom what she had said, then another to determine what she meant. Could she really be blind to her own resplendence? Had she been so hurt that she couldn't understand why he found himself drawn to her? His eyes meandered from where he held her arm up to her eyes. The question, simple as it was, along with her look, spoke volumes.

"I have...grown fond of you, if I wasn't terribly obvious." Settra began to answer, keeping his eyes locked on hers but continuing to trace slowly up her arm with the soap. "I know that it has only been a few days, but...in that time I have seen naught but brilliance from you."

Painfully unhurried, he dragged the bar up her forearm, then beyond her elbow, the other arm following to gently wash the silken skin.
"You are brave and strong in ways that I am not. You carry yourself with such grace and confidence. You move and speak in ways that stun me to my core." He continued to answer softly, a serene calm in his tone and a warm ghost of a smile on his lips. His fingers drew lines across each muscle in her arm as he appreciated the athletic tone in her own body, proof of her dedication.

"You are like a radiant flame...and yet..." His topside hand reached her shoulder and let the soap slip down and into the bath, while the other departed from it to gently trace across her collarbone. Soon, each of his hands were softly caressing one of her shoulders. Something approaching sadness entered his tone, if only slightly, and his volume fell. "Yet I can tell that you are hurting. That your flame is dwindling. That...maybe the people who were supposed to love you the most caused you great pain."

Settra's hands softly stroked each side of Nym's neck, lingered a moment, then began to work their way back down to her shoulders.
"I hate the idea that you are hurting. I find myself wanting to do everything I can to take that pain away." He worked past the shoulders and down to her sides, across her ribs. All along he had been slowly decreasing the distance between the two of them, never breaking eye contact. As he finished his answer, his hands came to rest at her hips, beneath the warmth of the water. "To see the fire live to suffer the ashes...I can't bear the thought.

 

[Nym]

His response to her question pulled her back into the room as he answered her so smoothly, the baritone of his voice reverberating through her bones as his hands started their ascent of her arm. The low rumble of his voice was comforting, like soft, rolling thunder that billows across the dark skies on a stormy night, wrapping around her and carrying her off to a place where the sound had the power to change everything wrong in the world.

She watched him, ensnared by his gaze, his emotions telling her that he needed more of a connection, or that she did, though, she supposed in reality they both did. His eyes were so different to her in this moment, more soft than she knew eyes could be. The professional man was gone and instead they were the eyes of one who cared deeply, who said things like 'brilliance', 'brave', 'strong', like 'grace' and 'stun', like 'radiant'..If it were anyone else she'd have dropped her gaze, brushed it off as a deceptive ploy to charm her, but with him she saw that he meant it and she felt herself drawn in and craving a little more. Nym could only stare at him, her expression one of mixed admiration and confusion as she tried to understand, taking in every moment for memory and knowing it was the medication she needed to survive the next few days.

There were times it would be lost, when he wore his mask, when he became the man the world demanded of him, but in his eyes was his humanity, the person he really was hidden deep within what he was. And she knew that he too looked passed her cold exterior and feigned confidence, that he saw the vulnerable version of her beneath it all, and she realised then that she needed that - to be known - for who she really was too.

His words were precious, his smile a remedy, but it was the feel of his skin on hers that healed. Her body seemed to speak for itself, her muscles shuddering under his gentle hands that left her skin tingling with goosebumps despite their warmth and how hot the water she lay in. Her eyes closed under a furrowing brow for only a brief moment, afraid of him seeing her mind through her eyes, as though her body wasn’t already saying enough.

Her breathing grew steadily quicker, her heart pounding against her ribs surely audible as she felt his fingertips trace her arm. The pensive look melting into a smile as soft as the morning light as he spoke. Her body squirmed just a little as her muscles relaxed.

And then, 'yet'....

She tensed. Insecurity came back for another bite at her and she frowned softly, her heart sinking to think she'd been reeled in so close only to be let go. Because how could someone truly think those things about her? Those were not the sort of words she deserved to hear and that was not the sort of happiness she deserved to know, to be wanted like he seemed to want her, to be looked at the way he looked at her. Her emerald gaze grew glassy as she waited what felt like an eternity for him to let her back down from the heady heights his words had lifted her to.

When he finally spoke, her lips parted, about to spit out words of defence, as though anything could ever hurt her. The words turned to stone in her throat and her eyes pooled with tears with the pain it caused as she tried to swallow it. She found herself leaning into his touch, her body reacting to the touch on her neck as though it'd been the spark she'd needed to restart her heart, a sharp breath drawn in and trembled out as her back arched and her fingers sought anchor on the edges of the tub. Her eyes closed as he finished speaking, and the tears fell to roll silently down her cheeks as her eyes opened on his again.

It was, an incredibly perfect answer, and she felt her heart stumble as his hands finally made it to her hips. She unfurled her fingers from the rim of the tub and settled both hands on his chest to push him slowly away from her, letting the torturously static air between them linger for a brief moment before she pulled herself toward him, her hands sliding up over the sinews of his chest, fingers splaying over his neck until they reached his face and she drew him slowly toward her. There were no words that she could bear to speak, and so with her chest firmly pressed against his, she quietly claimed his lips with her own, and surrendered entirely.

 

[Settra]

. . .
Some time later...
. . .
​

It took several minutes before Settra began to drift back down to earth. His heart still beat rapidly within him, though nearly not as hard as it had been during their activities moments prior. He was drenched head to toe in a cocktail of both Nym's and his own secretions and some corner of his mind tugged at the notion of taking another bath, even though the water had likely run cold by now.

As his vision came to focus in the waning light that seeped through the inn's windows only one thing filled his view, the only thing he had ever cared to look upon: Nymeasha, panting just as breathily and apparently trying to fight a smile. He lay next to her silently, cherishing the beautiful mess she currently was...the mess he'd made her. He couldn't help but admire his work, and a loving smile began to creep across his own face. Settra, however, made no attempt at hiding it.

Night's chill was slowly but surely creeping its way in, gentle breeze carrying its cool tendrils through the room and over each of their collapsed bodies. He felt himself shiver lightly, and watched as the skin on Nym's arm tightened and raised. Settra blinked as his memory pulled him back once more to their night in Nimra, and he reached out to pull her softly into his arms. Ever soft spoken, he remained quiet as he did so, content to simply hold her, to study her features, and to commit the moment to memory.

In less than a week Nym had worked her way in and warmed the heart that lay beneath his stony exterior. Now it was full. Full of affection and care only for her...and with a loving stare and a smile, he knew that somehow he had caught up to the dawn.

If she wanted to talk, Settra would tell her exactly how he felt. Until then, he lay silent with her in his arms, treasuring the view and the comfort of holding her.

 

[Nym]

And down she tumbled, feather light and still trembling, and her eyes closed as she took a moment to breathe and calm her thundering heart. Nym unlatched her teeth from her lower lip, allowing her Cheshire grin to spread across her clammy face, and a throaty hum of satisfaction escaped her as she sighed blissfully.

She could feel his eyes on her, and she rolled onto her side to gaze back wordlessly. Nym would never not be utterly disarmed by the way he looked at her. It elated and terrified her in equal measures, and all she could do was stare back and soak it in until she was drunk on it.

There is the hug of gentle arms that still gives the space to breathe; then there is the hug of strong arms that tells everything that your are - mind, body and soul - that they are with you. Settra managed both all at once, and Nym couldn't hide the comfort she felt when his arms wrapped around her and pulled her close.

Once upon a time she loved this kind of story. When she was just a child and the world was small and she dreamed of open doors and happy endings. Those dreams never lasted, and those stories never ended happily, but tonight she refused to let herself feel vulnerable. Tonight when the sinister whispers spoke she would hold onto him, a place of safe harbour and tenderness, and onto the warmth he cocooned her in.

She let her fingertips trace over the scars on his face, studying him like a fresh new page, one she'd only really skimmed over before and now drew in the beauty of the story it told. She idly, softly caressed his skin, as if afraid a heavier touch would break the heady magic. Any words she thought to speak remained locked tight behind her teeth. There was no need for them now and they'd only ruin it if she let her mind take control over her tongue.

For now she let him hold her and protect her from herself. She nestled in against him, and allowed the sound of his calming breaths lull her to sleep.

 

[Settra]

Leaning into Nym's gentle touch as she nuzzled his face, Settra wondered if they'd speak of the events of the last hour or two. When she pulled herself into him and began to drift off, however, another wave of contentment washed over him. Exhaustion had well worked its way into his body by now, his breathing starting to slow and his eyelids feeling heavy. The assassin decided, drifting off with a princess in his arms, that perhaps for now things were better left unsaid.

. . .
​

Morning came in time, shining its warmth and light through gaps in the curtained windows. Settra roused, tired brain curious to see if he had dreamed the previous night up, then sighed in relief when he realized that Nym still clung to his side. Still tired, a warm smile crept over his face. After listening to the soft purr of her sleeping soundly beside him, he carefully ran a hand through her hair.

"Hey..." He croaked, throat dry and voice even more gravelly than usual. He ruffled the top of her head playfully. "...rise and shine, princess."

The assassin leaned down and planted a soft kiss on Nym's forehead before shifting up in the bed slightly, letting her head come to rest on his stomach. Much as he would've liked to stay in the warmth of this embrace for the rest of the day, he knew that Nym still had unfinished business here in Salitra. That, and he knew they'd need to talk about...things...eventually.

 

[Nym]

Nym never slept like this. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been so comfortable, so at ease to let herself sleep soundly through the night without tensing at every sound or being chased to consciousness by the shadows in her mind. Her body seemed to know that she needed the rest and that she was safe enough to do so, and so as his voice sent a soft shiver over her skin she clung to sleep and clung to him, desperate to hold onto the peace and savour it.

"Mh.." was her response, her brow furrowing as he shifted, and she nuzzled her cheek against the honed muscle of his stomach, her draped arm tightening its hold on him to keep him there. The weight of his kiss to her head lingered long after his lips had left her skin, and her eyes slowly rolled open, narrowed against the morning's sunlight that cast the room in a rosy glow.

"I'm not a princess.." she finally grumbled with a dry smirk and she looked up at him, her eyes glazing over with the remnants of a dream, of the memory of last night, and down poured the torrent of self loathing and insecurity.

Ah, Nym. What the fuck have you done now?...

Her gaze fell, knowing how well he seemed to read her, and she sighed casually as she rolled away from him, taking the tangle of sheets with her to wrap them around her chest. She wandered toward the bath and poured a new cup of wine from the jug, and quickly drained it before re-filling it and sipping a little more slowly for a moment and setting the cup down.

Her fingertips danced across the surface of the water. It was cold, but she dropped the sheet and stepped into it regardless. The frigid water surged around her skin, thieving every ounce of warmth that had seeped into her muscles and settled there. His warmth. It was a new day and she'd start it clean and cold.

"We should get ready to go..." she told him quietly with a glance before she let herself slip below the surface to wash away the lingering heat of that last kiss.

 

[Settra]

Settra was at first amused by her initial, groggy reaction, but quickly found his heart sink as she visibly seemed to shrink, then pull away from him. His gaze narrowed on her as he watched her down a cup of wine and quickly return for seconds. She was bothered, that much was clear, and he prayed that she wasn't regretting the previous night's choices.

His gaze narrowed upon her and he stood from the bed, nude, and followed her to the bath. Settra was no great fan of cold water, but she had plunged beneath it before he had any time to react. So, with few other options, he climbed in after her, bracing himself for the rush of cold. He sucked in a breath sharply as his feet bottomed out, and he allowed himself to sink in beside her before waiting for her to surface. When she did, he spoke up.

"We should, yes...but first..." Settra began apprehensively. If he had already damaged something, he didn't want to somehow make it worse. That was what was forefront in his mind. "I...would like you to talk to me. Something is bothering you. Please,"

His focus tightened on her, a look of genuine concern crossing his usually unexpressive face. Somewhere in his heart he knew that if he let this slide now, if he messed this up, their relationship with each other would be forever marred by it. He knew that he had to get her to open up.
"Just...talk to me."

 

[Nym]

She dragged the water from her face as she resurfaced, and blinked to see him next to her. Her brow knit, it was that fleeting flash of indignant anger that came with being questioned, a habit she'd picked up from her father that was normally followed up with a rant that began with 'how dare you'... She had a choice to make, and her frown eased as she looked back at the concern on his face. This was her fault, not his, and she'd at least try to be gentle.

"Settra..." she breathed out with an edge of frustration and drew in a calmer breath to soften her tone. "I enjoyed sharing your bed, but it should not have happened. For so many reasons. We have a job to do, I did not bring you along with me because I was looking for anything more than your professional support, I.." she frowned and sighed quietly. "I wasn't expecting any of this.."

It had been a brief and blissful window into a life that simply wasn't her own, it was a warmth destined to scald her and burn what was left of her heart to ash. It had been so much more than meaningless, and that frightened her. She would not open herself to that sort of pain again, she would not let herself believe that she deserved anything less. He would see that too, as soon as the haze of infatuation dissipated. Nym had barely physically recovered from Uvogin abandoning her, and emotionally she doubted that she ever would.

"I don't want to hurt you, Settra.. But I will. I probably already have - but I can assure you it will only be worse if you if you do not accept this for what it was and understand that I am not what you think you see when you look at me that way."

 

[Settra]

Deafening silence took hold of the room in the moments following Nym's dismissal. Settra's expression was at first one of shock, then visibly cooled as his brow furrowed and his eyes glassed over. Where before when this had happened he blamed himself and accepted the consequences, now he felt a cold frustration bubble in his chest. He wasn't wrong this time--he couldn't be. Perhaps more infuriating was what he realized of the dynamic between them: Nym had an easy time speaking, but a hard time expressing her truth; Settra was painfully honest, but had a hard time speaking. The latter would have to change if the former was to. He wasn't simply going to take his licks and apologize again.

"I...do not understand. Am I a mistake to you?" Settra's words came slowly and quietly, a look of weighty disappointment falling on the woman across from him. "Will this be a pattern? You seek me out for comfort and then shun me when I get too close?"

The assassin breathed deeply, eyes briefly sinking to the water beneath them. Uncomfortably cold. He turned his gaze back to Nymeasha.
"Why are you doing this? Any of this? Not just this mission, but this toying with me?" Emoting was difficult for Settra, even now; seventeen years of being treated as a nameless, faceless shadow was difficult to push past. But now...there was a slight breaking in his tone, his frustration starting to seep through the broken cracks of his outer shell. The shell that she had started to break apart. The shell she was now trying to force him back into.

He squinted, brow beginning to quiver subtly, and his hands balled into fists.
"You said you weren't interested in using me. That I wasn't a tool, or a weapon...and I think you were telling the truth...if you felt differently then you wouldn't have bothered doing anything differently when I said I'd only speak when spoken to." Despite everything, Settra was not angry at her. He was confused, exasperated, and now pleading. "Which means you are lying now. Shutting me out to...I don't know, to protect yourself?"

Something approaching a ghost of desperation began to seep into Settra's heart. She was all he wanted, and she was slipping away. One final plea escaped him.
"Why? What do you have to lose from telling me the truth?"

 

[Nym]

"I...do not understand. Am I a mistake to you?"​

She frowned deeply, her lips parting instantly to interject.. "No, I-" She stopped. Because that was exactly what she had said. It shouldn't have happened, but her regret lay not in sharing his bed but with the inevitable pain that followed. Nym's heart was already bleeding, but that look of disappointment in his eyes wounded her very soul. She had already succeeded in dulling that warmth in his gaze, she already missed it terribly, and the guilt she swallowed down started a ripple of nausea as it hit the pit of her stomach. He who showed his face to no-one had felt comfortable enough to show it to her, and safe enough to open his heart, and she'd already damaged it.

Hues of jade glass stared back at him as he rightfully tore her apart, and she was silent as the pain in her throat grew more jagged and raw. Her brow furrowed and her head shaking slowly in mute plea for him to stop. When tears pooled in her eyes and she could no longer look at him, her gaze dropped shamefully, her jaw clenching and her nails digging hard into her palms, trying to outweigh the emotional pain with the physical. It didn't work. She waited until he was through before pulling in a breath and swallowing down the pain that caused her voice to break as she spoke.

"I ..was not meant to be looked at the way you look at me. I was not meant to be looked at all. I don't deserve to be admired like that. I'm not a good person, and I shouldn't have.. used you like that, but isn't it better that we stop this now before we find each other closer than we should be? Better stopping this now than you realising later that I am not good for you, nor anyone. I wasn't toying with you Settra I.." she trailed off and rubbed at her face before standing from the tub, a rush of water falling from her skin.

"I'm sorry. I've complicated things.." she told him as she stepped out and pulled the sheets around her chest, her arms wrapping around herself to hold them there as she shivered from more than just cold.

"I'll understand if you want to return to Ragash, I can manage the rest on my own." she frowned softly and lifted her cup of wine to retreat to the balcony.

 

[Settra]

He hadn't sought her tears, but perhaps they were closer to the truth than the walls she chose to throw around herself. To cause pain was not his intention, but painful truths were often far more weighty than the beautiful lies people tell themselves. Settra would not embrace defeat so easily this time. He would tear down her walls as Nym had to him, or she would scream for him to leave. Of this unfortunate inevitability, he was certain.

"I ..was not meant to be looked at the way you look at me.

Settra could see the cracks beginning to form. Almost...just a little more. He listened anxiously, heart pounding and gut churning.Was he finally getting through?

"I'm sorry. I've complicated things.."

No. No! Once again she was withdrawing. Running from the pain, from herself. He stood aside, uncertain of what to say next. What could he possibly do to convince her? What did he have to say?

"I'll understand if you want to return to Ragash, I can manage the rest on my own."

Unacceptable. Impossible. He had made a promise, and he intended to keep it no matter what. He was no good to anyone if he wasn't as good as his word. But...more than that, he couldn't abandon her. Not a cell in his body would allow him to do so.

Impulse. If she made her way out alone, it was over. Catch up to her. Catch the dawn. Settra followed her, exiting the bath just as quickly and stepping after her even faster.

Unthinking, Settra seized her arm in his hand to halt her retreat. It was not a threatening grip, but a firm one. Once again, he begged her to listen.
"I will not leave you!"

The declaration came as a shout, loudly enough that he shocked himself. His eyes widened slightly and he pulled his hand back, reason returning to him, if only slightly.
"I don't know who hurt you so grievously to make you think these things...but I am not him," He beseeched her, his voice beginning to crack under the weight of his final gambit.
"Please...just let me in..."

 

[Nym]

Nym's head spun to glance at the hand on her arm and she visibly flinched at the tone of his voice, in shock more than fear. Where she believed that she was destined to be hurt emotionally, she didn't believe for a moment that he'd ever harm her. All the same she pulled her arm back to her chest and stared back at him as he stood before her once again, and the tears she'd held finally spilled silently onto her caramel cheeks.

"He said that too..." she told him after a long moment, her voice barely a whisper. "And I have no idea what I did wrong. But I'll surely do it again and I'm not strong enough to get through that another time, Settra." her head shook.

"You were not a mistake, and last night was not meaningless to me - but that only frightens me more. Yes, I am protecting myself, I'm a fucking coward and I deserve your anger for hurting you. But you should do the same. At least leave me now before my feelings for you grow stronger and what's left of my heart shatters entirely..."

"I wasn't toying with you..." she repeated in a tone a little firmer than before, needing him to believe that she had not meant any of this maliciously. "Warmth is.. not something I'm used to. You're so gentle with me, the way you look at me, speak to me, touch me. I crave it. It was you who toyed with me without realising you were doing so.." she frowned, taking a step toward him and lifting a hand to run a thumb across his scarred cheek.

"Can you forgive me?.." she asked in a whisper in fear of her voice breaking entirely under the weight of the question. If he couldn't she'd never forgive herself for the disappointment she saw in his eyes.