Private Tales The Calm

[Vivien Damaris]

Vivien’s muscles eased despite herself as he straightened again, though she made certain to release a quiet, petulant huff, as if displeased by the necessity of it rather than the fact that she was being handled with such infuriating competence. Her ear pressed against his chest, and that low rumble of his voice, like boulders grinding together deep within him, vibrated through her bones, settling somewhere in her chest, slowing her pulse..

Then he moved, and it kicked up again.

She tensed instantly as he sat, her breath catching. Her eyes blinked, wide and bright, cheeks already warming anew.

“Oh what are you doing now?” she hissed, teeth chittering even as she did so.

She was sitting in his lap. Curled there like some damned cat, knees tucked up, cloak wrapped tight around her, in a public - if mercifully empty - street.

Oh, he was doing this on purpose. He had to be. This was his retaliation. His way of unsettling her, of proving some silent point. Infuriating, granite-willed man that he was.

And worse?
He was warm..
So warm..

She inhaled without meaning to, breath hitching as his scent filled her senses. Earth and rain and something ..grounding. Real.. It slipped into her lungs and quieted something frantic inside her, like the way the maids sprinkled lavender water over her pillows at night. Like it went straight to her mind and told the world to be still.

Traitorous.

She sighed softly before she could stop herself, fingers curling into the fabric at his chest as her eyes slid shut, partly from exhaustion, partly from sheer self-preservation. She could not look at him like this. She could not meet his gaze while allowing herself to accept… this.

This was practical. Necessary. Nothing more.

Her shivering eased, dwindling to the occasional involuntary shudder, and her voice dropped, muffled against him, far quieter than it had been all evening.

“My... reputation is at stake,” she murmured. No longer icy, simply honest. “If you speak of this…”

She hesitated, pride warring briefly with something far more vulnerable before she exhaled and finished softly,

“You must promise me… please.” she frowned, the word slipped out before she could catch it.

 

[Arctus Valerian]

He did not answer her question as to what he was doing. He let his actions speak instead of words. The furnace of his body a balm against the biting, rain-chilled wind even more-so than the flickering flames of the open hearth. None of her hitching breathes, her soft sighs, the faint flutter of her lashes, earned his gaze. He couldn't allow them to. He could not weather such sweet temptation and so.... he simply avoided it altogether.

It wasn't until her words lost their frosty bite, their icy sting, growing demure down to an honest murmur that he would glance down at her. He would glance down at her and silently curse himself for doing so. Those big, captivating teal eyes, so earnest, so calculating that the beat of his heart would increase noticeably in her ear. Powerful. Rhythmic. Soothing. His jaw would tense, lips drawing a hard line as she hesitated.

His arms would subconsciously tighten around her, drawing her closer, keeping her more secure, as she asked so softly for that promise. Deep gold would search gentle teal, his head lowering, moving forward, silent and intense. Closer to her. Closer to her lips. But only for a single, traitorous moment before he turned the motion into an acquiescing nod. His voice no longer a low, confident rumble but something much more.... tired.

"As you wish My Lady. I will breathe not a word of it to anyone."

He had to tear his eyes away from the beauty of her, staring back into the flames, eyes now squinting. The shadows beneath them, once from the flames only, now seemed more exhausted than anything. But he would simply, stoically state.

"There is still the question of how to get you home in your current condition."

Vivien Damaris​

 

[Vivien Damaris]

Vivien felt her heart answer his before she could stop it, an instinctive, treacherous thing, and then it outright stumbled as he lowered his head. She was not blind. His handsomeness was not some subtle quality to be debated in quiet corners; it was evident, undeniable. Chiselled strength, those intense, watchful eyes, the raw, untamed edge of him. Any woman or man who claimed otherwise was lying - to themselves most of all.

She was sure he too, was quite aware of the effect he had. It was the very reason that females batted their lashes and why men like Carsan felt intimidated enough to make a show of trying to drag him down.

What frightened her was not the awareness of him, but the awareness of herself in that moment. How absurdly easy it would have been to let him close that final distance. How her gaze lingered on his mouth as it dipped nearer, how warmth bloomed through her, sinking low and traitorous in her belly. The thought alone was enough to make her breath hitch.

Then he nodded. He looked away. And her skin felt as though it had been set alight.

Dear gods, Vivien.

“Thank you,” she said too quickly, the words tripping over themselves, a faint tremor betraying her despite all her careful control. She hated that. Hated how flustered she felt. Hated how foreign this sort of comfort felt to her that she was holding onto it for dear life. If she hadn't any pride left at all, she might have cried, but she would not. Not here. Not in his arms. Gods would anything have been more pathetic?

The ache in her throat burned, her eyes stung with the threat of something dangerously close to tears, but she forced it down, breathing through it, mastering herself as she always did. She sighed, long and slow, her head resting briefly against him before she caught herself and straightened just enough to reclaim some semblance of distance.

“Yes… I’m sure you’ve far more important things to do than tend to me,” she said quietly, swallowing past the knot of embarrassment. What a spectacle she must seem. Rain-soaked, injured, clutched to his chest like something fragile he’d rescued from the roadside.

Such a fuss she had caused. Enough that he had followed her. Her gaze drifted down the street..

“I’m sure a carriage will pass,” she added, though there was little conviction in it. The road was deserted. Still, she shifted, "I can't keep you any longer, Ser." she said, formality returning to her tone as she reminded herself of her propriety.

 

[Arctus Valerian]

Arctus would give a shallow, barely-there nod at her thanks. Still mastering himself toward the task of avoiding those captivating eyes. A task he liked to think most men would fail at.

That thought brought him little comfort.

However when Vivien insisted that he had more important things to do that self-mastery slipped, only for a moment. A tiny crack in the granite wall of his will as he responded a bit more quickly than normal, voice firm but not cruel.

"No."

He paused, realizing his mistake, but with a weary sigh he resigned himself to it. Murmur in a low, contemplative growl.

"I can think of no better way to spend a cold night in the rain...."

He allowed him to look back down at her, gold and fire mixing into something warm, something heated, as he finished.

".... than to hold such a stubborn flame in my own arms as you, Lady Damaris."

At her insistence to not keep him any longer he nodded, more slowly this time, something close to exhaustion showing in his features as he turned his gaze back to the flame.

"You may keep me as long as you desire. I would never leave someone in need. Least of all yourself in this moment."

Vivien Damaris​