Private Tales The Soldier and the Spy

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Virdan

Virdan

Shadow Ascended
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The Last Chance Inn was full of wonder and surprises. Enough so that Virdan knew a certain kind of magic, perhaps ancient and powerful, was at play. And while that put her on more of an edge than she normally tread, it was keeping her and Virdan safe from the Jarlax for the time being. So, she'd stay within these walls. For now.

Ennio mentioned something about the Inn not staying long in one place. So, she wouldn't be surprised if by the next morning she woke-up to entirely new surroundings.

Alyxander Quellchrist said:
Be my guest. If you wanted to harm me, I dont think you would have knocked.
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Staring down at Alyx's back, she frowned. One of her knees pressed on the bed behind him. Her other hand moved forward, fingers brushing his hair away from the angry welts and over one of his muscled shoulders to clear the way. If she'd wanted to harm him, he would already be dead. But the sentiment was not said aloud, kept locked behind lips that held a thousand other secrets.

"This will hurt," she warned, as she prepared the Irubu anti-venom. It would feel like a thousand bee-stings before it got better. But without the antidote? He'd be doomed to a long, slow, and agonizing death. "Brace yourself." That same hand that brushed his hair away, fell to his shoulder as she encouraged him to lean more forward over his bent legs. Hovering over him, she quickly and efficiently began applying the anti-venom to his angry welts.
 
Alyx winced and leaned further forward as Virdan set about applying her medicine to his wounds. There was the quiet sound of a hiss through his teeth, but the military commander was nothing if not tough-- He'd endured far worse pain. That he'd successfully managed to ensure no harm had come to his soldiers, or this strange woman who'd arrived greivously wounded hours earlier, was a comfort that made this discomfort worthwhile.

Once the initial shock of pain passed after a minute or two, Quellchrist let out the breath he'd been holding in a deep sigh, relaxing to dull the persistent ache coming from her hands across the hardened muscles of his back. "Yeah, that does sting like a bitch. You aren't a liar, Virdan."

It was... awkward. The two of them were relative strangers, but in the span of one night they'd both saved one another's lives. Aside from what little had been shared in the heat of the fight though, they knew relatively nothing about each other. It was difficult to find a topic appropriate for idle conversation.

Difficult, but not impossible.

"You're from Malakath, aren't you? I've heard fairy tales about the dragon cities there... My father used to read them to me when he still had half a mind."
 
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She frowned behind him. Knee pressed against the mattress of the bed they shared. His nearly naked form still hunched over. She carefully and quickly applied the rest of the antidote. The angry red and welt of his wounds already receding with the serum's touch of only a few seconds.

It seemed as if she wouldn't answer him. Silence stretched between them. The only sounds of his labored breathing and the gentle touch of her fingers to his skin.

"Yes," the scarred warrior finally answered behind him. A last touch across his skin before she sat back, giving him space as she edged farther apart on the mattress. The cap back on the vial as she tucked it into the folds of the dark tunic she wore.

"I would be curious as to hear what's in these tales of my city. I take it...your father is no longer as himself?" Her golden-hued eyes rested on the commander silently. She was estranged from her own father. And he had never been the type of man to read her bedtime stories.
 
"Most of it was probably hogwash, but one thing that always caught my attention was the story of the people who grew up around the beasts. Almost as though they were siblings, learning to ride them and taking them into battle. It was part of what made military life so appealing to me, the idea of being written about in such a manner someday."

Alyxander let out a long sigh as Virdan finished her work and slid her hands from his body and moved back to put some room between them. The soldier straightened his back, wincing as the pain shot through his body. It was powerful and deep, but he would be a liar if he claimed it did not feel better than it had before she'd applied the medicine.

"Mmmh... Kristoph was a smuggler. Selling stolen goods for a profit. Making money was always more important to him than family." Alyxander groaned as he stood, hands moving to secure the towel around his waist as his barefeet padded to the tall mirror affixed to one of the walls, turning to steal a glance at his wound. It wasn't pretty, but he'd suffered through worse. "He cared about me, loved me even, but he loved finding the bottom of a bottle more. Last time I saw him he was drunk out of his mind in a jail cell."

Alyx would have joined him, if the city hadn't decided to instead take him into their custody and train him to serve. The seemingly three-eyed man spun to face his savior as she sat on the bed tucking away her supplies, finally he would offer her a small smile, the sharpness of his features seeming to soften as he offered his gratitude. "Thank you, Virdan. You're a hell of a warrior in your own right, and you saved me from a painful fate. It was an honor fighting alongside you tonight."

She had the kind of spirit that Alyxander loved to have on his side. It was quiet, unassuming, but when it burned it burned hot. Just like his own.
 
She grimaced as he spoke. "They are gods in their own right, not beasts." A gentle correction as she stood. Fingers came up to motion to her shoulder. Beneath her tunic were the wrappings of only a few hours ago. Her wounds still healing.

"It seems we both can offer an expression of gratitude. Perhaps one day I will read tales about you, as you wished when you were a little boy." A small tip of her chin in respect as she crossed the room toward the door. "Goodnight Alyxander."

She’d interrupted his bath and she imagined, with that towel still on, he probably wanted to get back in. A Commander probably didn’t get as much alone time as he wished.
 
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Alyx watched her with mild fascination as she spoke. He hadn't the chance to see her truly in the heat of battle, but in the light of his room she did appear as though she were from another world entirely, like something out of the storybooks, brought to life from the pages.

She dipped her head, an annotation to her voice that he couldn't quite read. She bid him goodnight, but there was some part of him, in the back of his mind, that called him to speak as she passed him.

"Wait, Virdan."

When she would turn to look at him, it would be painfully obvious that even he wasn't entirely sure why he'd called for her to remain. Still holding the towel around his waist, he shifted slightly, as if mulling his decision over.

"There's... no guarantee we will ever meet again. I imagine you won't wish to remain here now that they know where you are..." There was almost a tinge of disappointment in his voice. His head, still covered with a long ebony mop of hair, turned towards his belongings in the corner. "I have one of them. The books, I mean. If it pleases you, I would be happy to let you see it. Perhaps we could speak a bit more?"

It was clear speaking to the ladies was not in the Commander's training regimen.
 
Almond-shaped eyes with flecks more golden in this light studied the knight commander. The shadows in the room almost seemed to shift. Just for a moment, as if they too, were holding their breath for her response.

"I don't think the Jarlax will be a problem anymore." A quiet statement. At least not tonight.

Alyxander Quellchrist said:
I have one of them. The books, I mean. If it pleases you, I would be happy to let you see it. Perhaps we could speak a bit more?
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Virdan turned, her movements too fluid and skilled. The grace a predator would hold. "Alright," she finally spoke again. "Show me?" She crossed the room back toward his towel-clad form.
 
Alyx still couldn't place why it was he wished for her to stay with him. Perhaps it was worry for her safety, fear she might run into more trouble despite her obvious ability to look after herself. Or maybe it was something more selfish, as though her departure meant losing the only fresh and exciting thing that had happened to him in years.

Either way, he nodded, offering a small smile as he padded to his bags, dropping to one knee as he undid the knot and pulled one open, digging around for the old dog-eared book. "I'll... ah... put something more decent on in just a moment. I apologize. I was wary of putting any clothing over the wound."

Less for his own safety and comfort, and more that he didn't wish to ruin his new fatigues. He'd never admit it aloud, but Quellchrist had a habit of being a bit vain in his appearance. Curious for somebody so inimical towards off-duty relationships.

Finally, Alyx retrieved the book and rose to his feet, using his other hand to hold the towel tightly around his waist. The cover was old and brown, but a golden depiction of a dragon-like beast still shone. The title was in a strange language, one that neither Alyx nor his Father had ever understood, but it seemed a translation had been printed underneath. Land of The Ascended.

"Here we are! This is the only one that survived my old man's drunken rages. Fitting, as it was always my favorite."
 
The soldier/spy made no comment about his state of dress. Or rather undress. She'd seen far more in her time and was a long cry from the definition of a noble, gentile lady. Stepping up close to him, she took the leather-bound book carefully in her hands. Long fingers gently tracing over the title.

Taking it, she went back to the only seat in the room and perched on the edge of the bed.

"I'm surprised you have this," she finally said, almond-shaped eyes looking up to Alyx. "Books about my land are rare and the ones that do exist outside our country are usually very wrong. I'm sure there are things in here," fingers tapped the pages of the book. "that are inaccurate."

Head tilted downward, dark, straight ribbons of hair drifted across her cheek - freed from their usually tight hold. She turned through the pages quietly scanning the text and pausing at the pictures. After a few beats, another question. "Where will you be taking your regiment after this?"
 
Alyx too was surprised at his possession of the old book that his father had once read to him. There weren't many things he'd held over from his time being a vermin on the streets with his father, but the pages within that aged cover brought with them a sentimental nostalgia that Quellchrist rarely allowed himself. They held some of the only memories he had of family, of love.

Perhaps he was merely unwilling to relinquish that.

"I'd be shocked if there weren't." He admitted as he stepped behind the privacy partition with a set of fatigues to dress himself with. She'd said nothing that implied she was offended by his body, but it still felt somewhat indecent to stand before her in his current state of dress. "But any facts it holds are positives, no? That some truth about your world does exist in mine is a thing to be celebrated, I think."

Alyx emerged after a moment, having donned a pair of black trousers and a snug black shirt to match that which he usually wore underneath his armor. Rotating his arms to test the fabric against his wounded back and finding the sensation bearable, he sat beside Virdan, tilting his head to read along with her.

She asked as to his next destination, and his face turned to her once more.

After an incident like the one he'd just encountered, the protocol would be to return home and report the activity to the Matriarchy. If Quellchrist was being honest, though... he didn't wish to go back. Not when he'd found himself in something far more gripping than more bureaucracy and hushed whispers.

"The answer I'm supposed to give... Is that I must go back to Dornoch and report this to my superiors, but..." The faintest hint of a smirk pulled at his lips as he raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to assume you'd prefer I didn't spread word of what I saw tonight, am I correct?"
 
Her attention diverted from the pages of the fanciful book back to the commander. A thoughtful quiet look from eyes that many would find hard holding a gaze with for long. "Dornoch?" A bit of surprise for a moment. Funnily enough, she thought that city was as exotic as he probably thought her own. A society built around matriarchy. She'd only heard of one other - a kingdom in the Savannah plains called Marakoosh.

"Not spreading my name and description would be as much your protection as it would be mine," she commented carefully.

"You don't seem like a man who takes lying lightly," reaching forward, her fingers smoothed some of those dark strands of his hair across the rough stubble of his face.
 
Alyx felt his lips twitch, hiding what was perhaps a bitter smile as she brushed her hand softly along the side of his face. "I'm a soldier. I'm beholden to the orders I'm given, and trusted to pass those orders to those under me." He murmured, his eyes moving from the pages of the book to her own as they watched him.

There was an undeniable depth to hazel gaze, but it was that which was unknown that he found so fascinating. "Sometimes those orders involve lying, but they never involve my protection."

Still, he would abide by her wish to omit her from his report. Not because it would be best for him, but because he knew well what Dornoch would attempt with the knowledge. It was nothing good, and he wished not to enable them.

Quellchrist raised a hand, placing it over her own as it ran across his stubble. He allowed the smile to come now, light and careless. It was an expression his own troops saw rarely, and never without a level of staunchness to it.

"I'm not, but seeing as you don't exist as far as they're concerned, I'll think of it less as lying and more as not telling." He winked. "Nevertheless, I thank you for tonight. Though the circumstances were unpleasant, it was absolutely invigorating. I'll not forget you, Virdan."

Virdan
 
Her eyes lightened at his smile. “It is rare to meet someone like you, Alyx.” She tried the nickname on her tongue. And it felt as if she’d uttered his name in another lifetime. Just like that.

Rare to meet someone as honorable as he. As one who cares for his men and women like he did. One that didn’t let nobility of a family get in the way of doing what was right.

Knowing not to let moments like this slip away and that life was too dangerous and short for someone in her line of work, she leaned forward to press her lips against his own. Ready just as quickly to pull back.
 
“It is rare to meet someone like you, Alyx.”

Quellchrist had thought that to be the end of the conversation. That Virdan would rise and return to her world, and he to his. Their lives were two that would not likely cross a second time, and while the woman from the land of Dragons fascinated him, he would not be so dishonorable as to attempt to keep her from her duty.

Virdan did not rise.

Before Alyxander fully grasped what was happening, she had leaned in close to him. In one swift movement, her soft lips had pressed gently against his in a kiss that was every bit as stealthy as the woman herself. His body tensed, the sensation of another's mouth completely foreign to him. He knew so little about this woman, and had only known her for a handful of hours. By all logic, his heart should not be racing in the manner it was, he should not have the thoughts he now had.

But then, logic had taken a hiatus ever since he'd seen her enter this strange tavern.

Alyxander leaned into her kiss, raising a hand to gently rest on the back of her head, his fingers weaving through her dark locks. He shifted, bringing one of his legs up onto the bed so he could face her. When finally he did pull away, it was only by inches.

"Every time I think I have the rules figured out, you change the game on me..."

Virdan
 
He tasted like she'd expected. Like steel and adventure. She didn't pull away from his grasp. Then a smile as quick and as sharp as one of her daggers. She could feel Andor in the back of her mind, muting their connection for privacy, though there was a slight grumble along their bond.

"Tomorrow is never promised where I'm from. Can you give me tonight?" One hand lifted, trailing down his shirt and the other smoothed gently along his neck.
 
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It took him a moment to completely process what she was asking him, the murky cloud of thoughts she'd brewed in his mind with her lips alone slowing his thoughts to a crawl. Alyxander had always thought this sort of thing far too trivial for him; there was no time for such debauchery when he held so much responsibility on his shoulders.

With one of her hands drawing a slow path down the ridges and valleys of his muscles, fingertips like fire against his bare flesh, he suddenly found that he didn't much care about that responsibility. He wanted this. He wanted her.

Quellchrist tilted his head and leaned in, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her neck, letting his teeth graze and nip at her as the hand entangled in her raven hair traveled down the covered expanse of her back, a low grumble of need vibrating against her nape from his lips. It was just as she'd said. Tomorrow is never promised.

His lips slid from her neck to her ear, and he muttered lowly in reply.

"If there is a chance we do not meet again, then I want to have you tonight."

Virdan
 
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Neck tilted as his lips traveled across her darker skin. There was a small scar the shape of a star the lower his lips traveled along her neck. And many other marks of battle and small burns along her flesh that he might find as they went along.

The strangest being an ancient looking marking of a sun merged with a moon on her lower back.

Without further fuss, she'd tug her own clothes off and drop the darker garments at a pile on the floor. They clanged with considerable weight from the multitude of hidden daggers among their folds. Fingers would 'help' Alyx remove his own barriers before she'd nudge him back on the bed, her hands and lips beginning to explore his body. His own scars, muscles, dips, and valleys.
 
For the first time in his life, Alyxander chose to serve no one's needs but his own. Any doubts and fears shattered like fragile glass as her lips and hands excised every ounce of need from his body, built up over years upon years of service without pleasure. Now Virdan would be the outlet for his desire, the canvas upon which he'd finally allow himself to be human.

He inhaled with a gasp as she freed him from the pitiful barrier of a towel and felt his head swim as she pushed him to the bed. There was nothing in all of Arethil that would have stopped him from seizing this moment, this chance to revel and bask in the mysterious woman whose bare form now stalked across the mattress towards him, with the intent of pure mutual bliss. The very world melted away, down to the last detail of the strange warping inn they'd met within.

His body melted against hers, flesh against flesh, his heart thundering in his chest and a throaty sound of approval rumbled against her lips as they captured one another once again, his tongue sliding past her guard to entwine as his hands explored every inch of her scarred, imperfect skin. With every blemish or mark of the past that crossed his fingertips, he felt a warmth that he'd never experienced before this moment. It filled his body from head to toe, invigorating and engulfing him with a passion that was too powerful to comprehend.

With their joining, Alyxander Quellchrist changed. Virdan's warmth melted the ice around the Commander's heart, and her lips beckoned forth a yearning for more than what his position or his home could ever provide for him. Her taste was that of freedom on his tongue, her grip was that of the unknown and unexplored. Alyx held her there, from the highest peaks they reached with one another until the break of the next dawn, reveling in the epiphany that she'd brought to him.

"Must we depart?" He muttered to her, only when they heard the stirring of others in the hallway beyond their door. He tilted his head, pressing his lips to her brow with a conflicted expression. "I loathe what awaits me out there..."

Virdan
 
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