Private Tales Only For A Day

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Mikko raised a brow. "Malik." He nodded.

"He is a charmer, likes to chase girls than to give his rank in the Vanguard any serious thought... but he is loyal. Maybe to a fault... but I have yet to see the downside to it. He gets on my nerves... but we are stronger together." Mikko smiled slightly, now peering into the food parcel Lyta had given him.

"We have two older brothers too. All us Cendrillon boys are in the Vangaurd, and my cousins... Jasmine wants to train to be a Guardian." Mikko bit into the bread, settling again. It was nice to talk to Lyta like this, to not only speak of the job at hand.


"Told her, if she is selected, then I will find the best Vanguard company for her. Unfortunately, they will not allow kin to protect their own... Valenntenia is our first loyalty."
 
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Lyta blinked in surprise at the revelation there were more siblings. Hundreds of cousin's running about the city she was used to; her own family tree branched out into several minor noble houses some of which had even taken up residency in cities as far as Ragash. When it came to the Drømmer direct line however, it was just Lyta and her brother. She could not fathom what Mikko's home must have been like growing up with five children.

"Your poor sister is stuck with four brothers?" Lyta shook her head, a smile playing across her lips. "Please give her my dearest sympathies. One is bad enough with his over protectiveness," her eyes seemed to dance with unsung laughter. She popped another piece of cheese in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. The small bits of the vanguard Mikko revealed allowed her a glimpse into a world she had known little about. It worried her but... she could understand how someone like Lale had been able to gain support.

"What are the best companies in the Vanguard?"
 
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Mikko couldn't help but laugh so loud, it echoed and traveled through the trees. A light presence of tears sprung to his dark eyes, and as he came to settle, grinning widely, he looked to Lyta with a hearty laugh. "You and Jas will make quite the alliance. How she has lamented at the fact her brothers will not let her do a thing..." And now, Mikko could respect Lyta's brother more and understand. For him, for Brom, he would look out for Lyta.

"Well... we have the Vanguard that remains in Valenntenia.. but there are always other... companies, I guess. One is classified, the other is a naval fleet. For my sister, if she were to become Guardian, I would try with all my might to hire from the classified." Two names stood out to him, and himself and his brothers had already had this hypothetical discussion.


"I know who is tasked in the classified, but alas, I am not privy to their kind of work."
 
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Despite a faint blush gracing her cheeks, Lyta found herself smiling at his laugh. It had taken her months to get Brom to crack a smile, let alone laugh at her jokes. Her brother had always teased her growing up that she was too serious for her jokes to be funny, but her father had always assured her it was because her brother was so large and full of life in comparison. Her quiet humour was often overshadowed in contrast. There was something warming in this near stranger being able to see it so quickly.

"I did not realise there were so many parts to our military," Lyta played with a piece of bread as she thought about the ramifications of that knowledge. The most damning one being how woefully uneducated she was on her own country. War had always felt so... impossible. It was a problem the rest of the world had to face, not their slice of civilised heaven. Trying to dispel the thought she instead brought the topic back to lighter things.

"Your sister? Do I need to be concerned she may try to replace me as Guardian of the Dreamstone?" her warm smile made her eyes shine in the firelight.
 
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Mikko's lips turned upwards at one corner, amusement in his dark eyes.

"Probably not. She does covet other things in life that I am sure will take her focus." But as her elder brothers, they all entertained the ideas Jasmine dreamed of.

Finishing more portions of his parcel, Mikko fixed his gaze to the Guardian.

"I am curious, Lyta, of what you enjoy most when you come home from going abroad? What about Valenntenia makes you think... 'yes, this is what home is like?'"
 
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Lyta blinked.

"Why, the people of course," it had never occurred to her there were any other reasons Valenntenia felt like home. Of course, there were little things she really loved. Like the bakery run by the Oswalds with the pretty flower boxes outside that made the most delicious chocolate parcels. Or the quaint little tea shop run by her grandmothers dearest friend, Agnes' Tea Rooms, that did the best cup of chai she had had outside of Dornoch. But even those boiled down to the people in them.

"There is no warmer welcome in the world than what the people of Valenntenia give. There is nothing too much trouble for them whether you need a cup of sugar or your babe minded. Nothing too disastrous that cannot be solved with a good cup of tea and a solid plan..." she shook her head with a small smile. "Home is where the people of Valenntenia are."
 
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Ah, Ancients.

Hearing Lyta speak of the people was one thing, but to watch her speak was another. She... really was a beauty. He found himself smiling, delighting in the way she described her Valenntenia.


"I do think our fair Valenntenia spoils us. Your home in Valenn differs to mine, and I am glad to be enlightened by your view."

Mikko rifled through his pack, searching for something he knew Lyta would find amusing. "My home travels with me. When Jas was small, she painted all over my... hang on..."

Finally, he pulled out a leather bound book. It was filled with sketches, mostly of his family and of the sights in Valenntenian he enjoyed. Some of them were filled with colour, especially a portrait of someone who resembled Mikko, washed in orange like a bad sunburn.

"Malik.." He chuckled, offering her to peruse the collection.
 
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"Oh Mikko this is..." Lyta cradled the journal in her lap like one would a fragile doll. She turned each page with upmost care, lingering on every portrait to properly appreciate it. Even in the fading light of dusk she could tell the talent that had drawn each line, the passion and love that had captured each family member or friends persona. There was a slight curve of the mouth in Malik's, Jas had her head tilted in a slight way that reminded Lyta of the children she watched play right before they did something mischievous. Kaira too was in there, that wistful, thoughtful expression in her eyes.

"Thank you, for showing me these. You are very talented and, I think your cousin's additions of colour are sublime," her cheeks dimpled with her smile.
 
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Mikko smiled proudly, but as he brought his eyes up to see Lyta, he knew her fave he wouldn't tire of drawing every smile, laugh, and pleasantness. She truly was beautiful, a face meant to spark a muse within every artist that lived in Valenntenia.

"I... could draw you, if you'd like?" He had hoped she would agree, allow him this small token of memory.

Mikko gave Lyta a warm smile.
"Right now, you are a reminder of my home. A fellow Valenntenian."
 
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A dainty blush spread across her cheeks.

"Me?" she subconsciously reached a hand up to pat the strands of her silken hair that had come loose in their journey here. Her mother always praised her long locks but when she had to travel, Lyta had to admit they were more of a pain than a boon. She would most definitely need to re-braid it in the morning lest she look as though she had been dragged through the hedges all night.

"If I am not too much of a mess?" she worried at her bottom lip.
 
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Mikko grinned, "Oh, Lyta, I think I prefer you most like this." He didn't scold himself for complimenting her, not when he truly meant to marvel at her appearance. He reached over to take the book from her hands, flipping to a page where it was clean and fresh. Digging into his pack, he produced a tin filled with charcoal and other mediums he frequently used.

Setting aside his food, he'd began to work at the parchment, glancing a few times up at Lyta.


"I like how your hair brings out your eyes when it falls into your face like that... there is a certain way when you look up at me, you look so..."

Damn the Ancients. Mikko began drooping locks of hair in his sketch, chuckling to himself. "You're probably the most beautiful woman I know, Lady Lyta." Would she be able to tell his cheeks warmed in the waning light and the shadows of the campfire? He had known he felt this way after the first training session with her, and spied her every now and then. Her beauty and her smile struck him, and he had never felt like that with just anyone.
 
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Lyta could hardly chide him for his own blush when hers had crept from her cheeks down her throat and up to her hairline. Why, she imagined if it were not for the firelight he would think she looked like a tomato! The thought made her cringe and brush uselessly at a strand of hair in the hopes it might hide all her face from his artists eyes.

"You are very kind, Ser. But you do the Lady Kaira and your own sister disservice with such a compliment," her lips twitched up at the right corner in a teasing half smile. Of course, Mikko was not the first to call her beautiful. Brom repeatedly called it an an irritating problem owing to the unwanted attention it often drew when travelling, but whilst some women might have let it go to their heads Lyta seemed to shy away from it.
 
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"Kai would agree with me. And Jasmine too." He assured her, scratching away at the parchment. His memory of her in that moment was burned to his mind, easy for him to recall and work on the portrait a little more before looking up at Lyta.

"Besides, I always have seen beauty to be of different things. Jas is lucky to be born a Cendrillon." He grinned, just shying from the well spoken idea that the Cendrillons were all handsome in appearance. "And Kaira, well, we grew up together. She was a beautiful familiarity of a childhood we shared." His finger lightly smudged at a line, adding depth and shadow to his work. Perhaps he was spending too much time on this, but he was inspired.


"You, Lady Lyta, Guardian of the Dream Stone." He spoke slowly, his right brow raised slightly with concentration. "You are a beauty of Valenntenia because even your heart is beautiful. I've seen this the first day we met training together. I just..."

He looked up now, passionate in her work and muse that he forgot to breath looking to her. The way she tried to hide her blushing cheeks, to shy from him.

"Ancients, forgive me." Mikko stopped and admired her for a moment before chuckling, averting his gaze as his own cheeks tinged with red.


"Here... I can work on it more but... I think I like you the most like this. This is how I see you now, Lady Lyta."

And Mikko handed her to book again.
 
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"Oh Mikko, this is..."

Over the years, Lyta had sat for various portraits commissioned by both of her parents, and her grandmother when she had still been a Guardian herself. She had been taught the perfect poses, the perfect smile, the perfect posture in order for the artists to produce a beautiful work of art. They had fawned over her hair and her eyes, complimented her rosebud lips and the beauty mark on the left side of her mouth. But whenever she had looked at one of them after they were complete, she had never seen herself. She'd seen a cherished granddaughter and daughter, then eventually a Guardian, but never... her.

Until Mikko's portrait. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Thank you. It is beautiful."
 
Mikko found himself setting his meal parcel and sketching kit to the side, crossing to the spot to his left where Lyta was and wrapped his arms around her. He did not think, only seeing the glistening in those green eyes of hers. He cradled her head to his chest, resting his cheek at the top of her blonde hair.

"Lyta..."

This was the closest he had ever been to her.

"I think you are so beautiful, soul and all. When I met you, you were frail, but there is a strength you harbour that I know is meant for more than being able to fight. Hells, you can fight. You stuck me in the gut, remember?" It was an accident, but the memory made his grin so broadly, he could not help the laughter that came with hit. His chest rumbled with it, lightly jostling her before he released her.

Mikko peered down, his eyes and expression softening.

"I would like to kiss you, but I am reminded of the duty I swore. To be your protector, to protect the assets of Valenntenia. Having you, even just for a kiss... feels so far out of reach." He cleared his throat, his head tilting back as his dark eyes took in the soft blues deepening towards night.

He thought the same of Kaira, but he had been younger than. He had been angry she was destined to a higher path, that a Vanguard could not love the likes of a Guardian. Mikko fractured his friendship with her, the wounds still felt even now when she had requested the severance of their partnership as Vanguard protection to a Guardian.

And he did not deserve Lyta.
 
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Lyta startled when Mikko drew to her side. She was used to people seeking to touch her hand or asking for her to kiss a newborn and bless them with sweet dreams, but never a man and never when she was alone with them. In a forest no less! Her cheeks heated as he drew her in against his broad chest and realised with growing panic he was consoling her. She would hate to think he thought his drawing had made her sad when it had so greatly done the opposite.

"I am fine, truly... I was just moved, I have never seen myself that way..." her cheeks blazed a deeper red as he laughed at the memory of her lucky hit. "Well, I am glad you no longer see me as frail," it was unbecoming for any Guardian to be thought as such. "Though I doubt I will be so lucky a second time against a seasoned fighter," not without more practise anyway.

Lyta thought the moment over, broken by the shared laughter and understanding, but Mikko went on. Her eyes grew wide and she was thankful he was looking at the sky and not her face to see the emotions playing across her face. Never had anyone been so forward with her. No-one besides Brom and her brother of course, and in very different situations to this. She was more used to the courtly dance of dodging outright admittance of feelings, lingering looks and delicate touches. A straight confession left her unsure of how to proceed. A silence stretched after his words, growing uncomfortable with every passing second. She had to say something yet words seemed to fail her. Instead she too turned her eyes towards the heavens as if the stars might whisper an answer.

"We are not above you, Mikko," it was the first time she had dared use his first name but it felt more appropriate for the tender moment. "You seem to see us like the stars; to be protected and venerated, but never to be touched. But we are mortal flesh and blood. There is no difference between my worth and yours. Our tasks ultimately the same."
 
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When he was a boy, he loved a girl that was set on a pedestal, and then she became the very image of Valenntenian Faith. How could he not see other Guardians at such a prominent position, for he had been looking up at Kaira as if she were a sky painted of stars like Lyta spoke of?

And The Guardian of Dreams? Perhaps even that was up there in the heavens with Faith.

Mikko rested his head atop of Lyta's, eyes closing as she spoke his name. It brought a guilt to him, that they no longer were Guardian and Vanguard, that they were past that now, and it was their birth names on their lips. He liked hearing her use his name, when so many in his family had been called Ser Cendrillon, at least his name was his own.

"The city we live in is painted in histories that tell the tales of the Guardians. Without the Guardians, we are just any other city. How can I not think you more than the mortal flesh that I am, Lyta?"

He suffered the most when it came to thinking about his happiness. While Malik chased whatever skirts, and Jasmine still too young, too naive and portected... his older two brothers already deep in their duty, flirting with anything that batted their eyelashes at them both... Mikko needed to be that prized son, the one to continue the Cendrillon legacy.
 
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Lyta continued to watch the stars as though they might help offer guidance on what she could say. Mikko was not the first, nor would he be the last, to think the Guardians more than they were. Some citizens of Valenntenia worshipped them like people did the Gods in other parts of the world. They would gather round the same alters, wear totems and pray. Were they any different besides the fact Lyta knew her body truly was just flesh and blood?

"We are not just any other city, even without the Guardians. It is not us that makes the city special, it is the stones themselves. If there were no Guardians, then the stones would still exist and the magic that governs our city would still flow. Perhaps, down the line there will be no Guardians and the people will tend to the stones as a community. Like the Monks in Sheketh tend to their Eternal Flame, or the Abhati elves tend to their sacred waters. Being a Guardian is just another job. A special, and honourable one yes, but... no less honourable than yours Mikko."
 
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How could he not help himself to brushing his fingers through her hair; it's softness a delight and made it easier to smooth the tangles in her locks. Mikko was gentle, he had to learn how to be when his mother had been too tired to help Jasmine get ready for school. Mikko had survived angry scowls and crying from Jas to know enough about not pulling on hair.

"We see our Valenntenia differently..." He began, taking his time before continuing. "But I do hope that the Guardians are never phased out as an occupation. Somehow in that far, distant future, I feel as if what ever Carvyre sprog lives then, Lale would have won in the end." Mikko chuckled. "You know, we should be asking Kaira and Mordred if it is possible to cure the rot in their bloodline and give us a bright Valenntenian future for our descendants to enjoy."
 
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Lyta startled herself by quite how loud she laughed at the idea.

"Mordred refuses to go near her if he can help it," the Blood Guardian seemed to despise her more than her own brother did. She had never really been able to get to the bottom of it. Once, she had wondered if it was a thing of class but he had never let such a thing impact his relationship with other nobles such as herself. Perhaps he had merely been in the same camp as Mikko when he had been in the Vanguard.

"Come, we should get some rest. We will reach the village tomorrow," pulling away reluctantly Lyta excused herself to get ready for the night and when she returned tucked herself into her sleeping bag. "Goodnight Mikko," she said to the stars then allowed herself to slip into the Dreamscape.
 
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He watched her go with a small smile, a small triumph that she had not moved away from him so quickly before he took her in his arms. So he did not hold it against her, not when he was sure his dreams would conjure her, and he would see her once more before dawn.

"Goodnight, Lady Lyta." He too, got himself ready to sleep. Carefully putting away his things, and ensuring the leftover foods were wrapped up and tucked away so that small animals wouldn't come scurrying through their food pack, Mikko stoked the fire some to ensure there would be some lasting heat to warm them before it softly died out.

When his back fell against the light cushioning of his sleeping mat, armour off, and warmed in his sleeping gear, a dream was not too far away.

He saw Lyta, but had kept his distance. In his dream, he got to draw her again, but this time something a little more detailed. Mikko could not help but start again whenever Dream Lyta moved. The last thing he remembered was painting her by the beach nearby Valenntenia, where many couples go and row a boat together.

Perhaps one day, he could take her there.
 
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There were no set rules to the Dreamscape and how the Guardians wandered the realm, but over the years Lyta had quietly put in place her own set of moral guidelines. Lest a dream call her or look troubled, she stayed away no matter how much she might want to peak. She had done it when she had first become a Guardian and peeked into her brother and fathers dreams. The latter's dreams of spending time with her mother who now lay in a coma, carefree and wild as they were as youths, had been too personal for Lyta to bear. She had not been able to look at her father for months afterwards out of shame.

But it was very tempting to peek into Mikko's.

In the end other work in the Dreamscape thankfully called her attention away, though as always those who slept near the Dream Guardian had only the best of nights rest.

As dawn broke Lyta had a hard time waking as was always the case. The Dreamscape clung to her harder with every time she visited. One day, she knew, it would not let her go just like it had not let her mother go, or her grandmother before. She washed her face in a nearby stream to try to help her wake fully and returned to the camp to see Mikko had packed the rest down.

"Ready to set off again?"
 
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Despite the good rest he had gotten all night, he still felt a tiredness in his self. He had heard her stir, and get up to wander, and so Mikko thought no better time than to start packing up their camp. By the time their things were now hanging on the saddle bags and back in their travel packs, Lyta had emerged.

Mikko held up a wooden cup of tea he had made with a little fire early on, having just extinguished the dying embers. "It's a honeyed black tea. My mother must have put it in the pack she put together for me and I didn't check it thoroughly enough last time I was on patrol." There was no milk, but personally he did not think it needed it. It was sweet and smooth all on it's own.


"We are a few hours ride from the next town, if you wanted to rest there a short while before we continue on?"
 
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Lyta smiled as she accepted the offered cup and gently blew the steam away. She took an experimental sip and then quietly hummed in appreciation before taking another.

"The village is not too far after the town. I would prefer to carry straight on unless you wish to stop? It will be easier for me to work if we reach there before the nightfall," when the townsfolk would sleep. Being closer to them would allow her to offer some relief from the nightmares that still plagued the small village. A good nights sleep would then hopefully put them in a better mood to talk and allow help the next day. Not all in this world shared their fair home's opinion that what the Guardian's did was righteous and just. Some looked at all magic with disgust, even dream magic, and saw it as a form of manipulation that should be scorned.
 
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Mikko chuckled, "Alright then." He stooped down to collect his cup of tea and finished it, shaking the empty cup to rid of the dregs before tucking it into a side pocket to his pack. There, he also brought out some cheese from the meal packs they had opened the night before, where Mikko had cut them thinly and smeared into sandwiches. "Never claimed to be a great cook, but it's something to fill ourselves along the way."

And even though he knew she did not need his assistance to mount Kuruk, he was there to offer her a hand before moving to his own steed.

They set about to continue on, watching the sky turn from orange, to pinks, and he could not help but stare at the clouds taking on several shades of differing colours. "I used to volunteer for the dawn patrol shifts, just to see this. I always prefer the sunrise that the sunset." One would not be blinded by seeing the sky turn like they would when the sun began it's descent.
 
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