Private Tales South for the Winter

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Oh, how her cheeks had turned a shade of pink! His words left her parting her lips as a breath of shock and surprise left them, but she would find that those breaths would come and go sharply as Paetr busied himself with his attentive hands. Her head fell back, resting against the rolled back of her seat, cushioned as if it were crafted with this activity in mind. Eyes fluttering, she listened as Paetr asked her for a song.

"In order to sing, I would need full breaths, darling Paetr..." There, a light amusement sounded in the form of a light chuckle, and yet her chest still rose and fell.

But to weaponise her voice was daunting to a delicate flower as Seryn had grown up to be. She was gentle, but there were times that a temper waited inside her, ready to unleash should she allow it to. Perhaps she inherited her mother's ire, her ability to keep the daughters in line... but Seryn had always wanted to be beautiful, and anger was as ugly as wearing olive green with her pale complexion.
 
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"Ah perhaps I should offer reprieve?" he said. But that question was followed by the soft whisper of a tear being ripped through sheer fabric.

As Seryn leaned back, Paetr was leaning on his left shoulder to face her. From the outside she might have looked rather flushed and distracted, but he could have been holding a casual conversation.

"No, I don't think I will," he said as his entire forearm shifted and escalated the situation.

"Given the nature of your magic I think we should..."

He took a pause, needing a break to breathe hard.

"...hone it as a last resort but train you in a weapon you could carry - or conjure - discreetly. I would train you myself. You are far too high to seek the advice of a meter kelpie. "
 
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Seryn's hand went to brace against his arm, her breaths stolen and wasting as he evoked the hitched breath from her chest. The Lusce female did not tell him to stop, nor did she push him away. In fact, she used all her desire to keep him there to distract her. It was not the first time conversations between the two had gone this way, and each and every time, Seryn learned more about herself.

But his offer to train her went unanswered. Her tourmaline eyes pierced him, showing the struggles she was faced with, and always, always, lost it to the pleasures of his efforts.

After a moment, after he graced her with a moment to catch her breath and collect herself, Seryn licked her lips to wet them. "What weapon should I learn?" There was something about the change in topic, the idea of a sharp, pointed blade in her hand... and Paetr not stopping to let her heart rest.
 
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"An obsidian blade would suit you, don't you think?" he asked. His attentions upon her were relentless.

He was, after all, quite magnificent. She had suffered being without him for so many months. It would have been an act of cruelty to let such tensions continue for another few hours when he could ease her suffering.

"Nice and light in hand, deadly up close. Easy to hide as well."

He glanced out of the window, past her heavy breathing. Mere mortals beside the road would see nothing of them through the glamour.

"Should I have the driver take a longer route?" he whispered.
 
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Oh Seasons take her!

Seryn tried to speak, tried to maintain their conversation, and yet Paetr learned quickly how to render her speechless. He knew her answer before she could begin to answer it in her own mind, and the carriage steered in another direction that would give them more minutes.

Her hands could not help but reach for him, her body turning to cling to him and savour the moment.

Finally, she came undone and was left reeling. A light sheen to her face danced with the redness in her cheeks, her breaths panting as her lungs begged for air and began to settle. She leaned on Paetr, took her time to recover and hoped that she did not look too unraveled from their time inside the carriage.


"Up close..." She echoed the words he had said to her earlier, causing her to lightly chew at her lip before lifting her head to peer at him. "You think I would be able to... achieve that?" In her eyes, hesitation lingered at the idea. Images of blood spilling over her hands, onto her pretty dresses, flashed behind her gaze. "What about poisons?"

A softer way out of this.
 
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"No, poisons would not do for my Lady," Paetr said. "Too cowardly."

Looking rather pleased with himself, Paetr sat back into the cushioned seat. He held the hand of his wife to be as he slowly licked his own fingertips clean.

"You should have magic and strength that makes your enemies at court tremble."

"It is a fierce place the lands around our new home. But it is beautiful. You will thrive there at my side. I cannot wait to show you to them all."
 
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She did not give him any more answers on how best to go about her future in defending herself, not when the carriage rolled towards the celebrations they were to attend this evening.

Her eyes flicked to the window, distracted with the wintry splendour on display. Seryn gasped, her hand squeezing Paetr's hand that held her own, and delighted at their arrival.


"Oh, Paetr!" She inhaled, glad that the scent of roasting chestnuts was reaching her, and stronger than the experience that clouded this interior and between the Duannans. "Chestnuts! It is a delicacy here, have you tried them?"

And so quickly, Seryn had returned to a vision of innocence.
 
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"Chestnuts?"

Paetr's expression also held youthful wonder. His moods shifted quickly. Patience was the only trait that he could never embodied.

The carriage came to a halt. He stepped past her as the door was opened for him.

"If you say I should try them, then I must!"

He stepped out and turned around. Paetr held up one hand to help her down.

"Is there anyone we should meet?" he asked. Paetr was almost disappointed that she was back on her feet so easily.
 
Seryn relied on his offered hand more than she would have liked. She may be on her feet so soon, but her thoughts were otherwise occupied, and the chestnuts had been a welcomed distraction to keep her from suggesting they continue the carriage ride elsewhere, perhaps even straight back to her room.

But Seryn was not the sort to such gluttony when hungry.

"I... admittedly do not know many in the fae courts. We never really had opportunity to... meet anyone else." She gave him a small smile. In fact, Seryn rarely attended events on her own, and insisted on one of her sisters to accompany her so that she may not need to partake in dancing or conversations.

Dancing with Paetr had been the first time she was without her sisters for long, but it was because of Saang's introduction of her to the Night Court Lord that lead them down this path.


"I know Saang wished us to attend more Winter events, to become part of this Court... but I was always afraid to go on my own either. Perhaps Signe could convince me on some occassions, but we never stayed too long."
 
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"Well then, we should go and make friends," Paetr declared.

"I think I smell spiced wine," he remarked.

Paetr lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders. He was a High Lord and even if he looked slightly aloof he needed to show that he was above the lesser classes of fae.

He gave Seryn's arm a gentle squeeze.

"You should show me this skating, but did you want to sit for a while..."
 
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"No, let us keep exploring." She smiled up at him.

Her days had been so long to endure, that the moment Paetr wrote that he would spend some time in the Winter Court, she had the House alive and in motion, making preparations for him and his household to have lodgings and to be a guest of the Lusces. To have him here, finally, Seryn did not want to waste any moment without him.


"I... admit I like being seen on your arm." They had made quite a pair, garnering attention from all. Perhaps they stared at Paetr for his obvious Night Court appearance, but at the side of the loveliest sister new to Court, it made many of them murmur in soft tones that she chose to ignore. "Perhaps we can search for this spiced wine?"
 
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Her enthusiasm was infectious. Paetr was easily amused by new things and so her attitude only made his smile wider.

He usually spent his time soaking up attention, parenting not to be watching people watch him. Now he was watching Seryn, enjoying the way she soaked up the attention.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Paetr replied. "I had such need of a distraction. Now the problems back home seem so small."

He drew them up to a table. There was a large pot hanging over a little fire. A lesser fae occasionally fed small sticks to the flames.

"Two glasses please..."
 
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Seryn smiled, taking her glass and following Paetr as they found a small and cosy table to sit at. "A distraction?"

If her voice did not give away her nerves, it was her lack of eye contact and the reserved expression on her face as she stared at her glass of spiced wine. She had been thinking on it for too long, had been in denial perhaps, but the silence on her brother's end had left quite a hole in her life.

It had been made worse being away from Paetr, and the fact her sisters all drifted off to do as they please with their newly claimed freedom.

Seryn was never going to change from being forever loyal.

"Have... have you been in contact with Saang since the Autumn Court's ball?" Over a year now since Seryn had received her last letter from her dearest brother.
 
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"A distraction," he confirmed, though - in a rare display of awareness - he realised how that might have sounded to Seryn.

"Ah but if the war was done I could put it all behind me and focus on what I want."

Paetr would always need some new campaign. Whether it was hunting mortals or initiating some dispute with another Lord.

Paetr blew across the top of his glass, chasing away little tendrils of steam.

"Only really on matters of war," he replied.
 
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He must not have heard from her brother...

A blush settled on her cheeks, one that came from her own thoughts as she readied herself to speak. Her eyes trained on her glass, letting her hands fiddle against it's smooth surface. "A distraction... like a wedding? P-Perhaps the silence of my father and my brother, the extended time we have courted... Does war not call for claiming what is yours?"

She dared to lift her gaze, only enough that her green hues peered beneath her dark lashes.


"I do not think my sisters will care nor notice that I would leave the manor. I want to return to the Night, I want... I want you as my husband Paetr."

He was to be a salvation to her, a hero to rescue her from a monotony of loneliness.