Private Tales The Withering - Part II

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"No, you are a thief of warmth," Baenon replied, "it is known."

Any time they shared a bed it was his warmth that she stole. Now the bath water. Surely a most practiced and skilled thief. The shuck took a moment to appreciate the size of the tub - for as tall as each of them were, there still seemed to be room to spare. Best room in the Inn had its many perks, apparently. He leaned back, dipping his head beneath the surface for several moments before sitting back up and slicking the water from his face.

Baen's fingers deftly pulled the string and raven feathers from his hair that held it tied back and let the long lengths of black fall freely about his shoulders, clinging to ashen skin. Easing back into the curve of the tub end, "For a human establishment this is surprisingly luxurious."
 
Aster wore a mask of mock outrage complete with her right hand resting on her chest. It was not her fault that Baen gave off a lot of warmth and she liked being warm. If anything, it was his fault.

"I do believe that the bath water would go cold whether I was in it or not, sir," she smiled at him.

She wished, not for the first time, that she could just see him. She had long ago memorized his face through his eyes, his memories, her view as a crow, and exploring every inch of him with her hands and lips. She could only imagine the faces he made at her and she knew that she missed some of the nuances in his dry humor.

"It is nice," she agreed. "Of course, Lord and Lady Graves can only stay in the best accommodations. How scandalous it would be to stay in somewhere less appealing." Her own sarcasm was on point this evening.
 
"Mm," Baenon rumbled his unspoken response, eyes narrowed. The shuck grabbed a sponge floating in the water and began to scrub over his arms and shoulders, the sound of waterplay mingling in the silence between their words. Her sarcasm was noted.

"If that is how you truly feel, then we will camp outside again at our next stop." An option with which he would be doing anyway were he on his own, but camping out didn't quite suit the Lady Omnia. She had lived a spoiled, sheltered life in Mirlorne but he could not say he judged her for it. Most duannan lived such lives and even Baen, too, had lived in the lap of luxury for quite some time before making his own way. But he had also lived a small portion of his life in tormenting, horrific squalor and abuse.

"With the dirt of the land as your bed and the night sky as your blanket..."
 
Aster smirked at her asshole shuck and fought the urge to splash the tepid water at him. That would make him grumpy and she was enjoying this current non grumpy Baenon.

"As long as I have you cuddled against my back," she shrugged, "or front...I am fine with wherever. You do not need to do all of this for me, Baen." She fluttered her hands in the air to indicate the bathhouse around them.

She closed her eyes and let out a low sigh. "You do so much for me already. I can sleep on the ground for you," her sightless eyes looked in his direction as she tucked some hair behind her left ear. She was surprised the male let her stand by herself sometimes.
 
He scoffed, a faint look of distaste at the notion of cuddling crossing his face - an expression she would not see. Baenon the Sluagh would not ever admit to such things. If anyone asked, he was keeping the Omnia warm.

"This may well be one of the only times you venture out into the mortal realm," he replied dispassionately, "you should experience some of its finer points at the very least. I am not short on coin and you need not sleep on the ground for me or anyone, not when there are better options. You are an Omnia and I would not hear the end of it from your Triumvir Asemir if he ever found out."

Chivalrous man that he was.
 
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"Don't you scoff at me, Baenon Trahan!" Aster chastised. She may not be able to see his expression but she knew what he was scoffing at. If he didn't like cuddling with her, he wouldn't. Ever. He did though so that means she was, once again, correct.

"I am not some delicate china that will crack with a gust of wind, but I do not want you to get in trouble." Really, she could sleep as a raven if she really wanted to. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side as she thought about something then just smiled to herself. Her thoughts staying in her head and out of her mouth for once.

Aster pulled her long legs up to her chest and leaned onto her knees. "I am glad I am stuck with you on this trip though," she admitted with another smile.
 
The scoff quickly turned to a raised lip of distaste at her use of his legal name. Baenon had taken Ceilidh and Traynor's last name only because he'd needed benefactors to support his attendance of the Winter Court's University. He used the family name on paperwork only. Bureaucratic nonsense. Ceilidh also enjoyed teasing him about this to no end.

With a long-suffering sigh, Baenon continued his washing, gaze trailing off to nowhere in particular to keep from allowing aggravation to settle into his mind. A wide sideglance was given the fae Lady at her last words.

"It's not as though you had a choice in the matter..."
 
Aster just frowned at his words. No, she hadn't had a choice on who she went on this trip with but she knew any trips like this would be with Baen because he was the only one who would deal with a blind Omnia.

"No, but no one else would have gone with me..." She replied solemnly.

Yes, he was the best tracker but there were other ones. Eske had needed Aster which meant her only option was Baen. Sometimes she forgot that she was useless on her own especially when she was with him. He treated her like a person (most of the time) and not someone who was disabled.
 
"Dear Omnia," Baen fixed the woman with a flat, serious gaze, "you forget your own clout among the fae. Anyone else would have gone with you because they were told to. The Dusk Court asks for very little, and rarely when they ask are they denied. Take some pride in your station and the place you hold among the Courts."
 
"Sorry, I forget you do not spend time with me unless ordered..." Her voice held an edge even as one of her feet slowly teased down his thigh gently.

She just smiled mischievously as she readjusted herself and set her elbows on either side of the tub. She knew full well that the shuck would enjoy this view very much.

"Which is why I like to give you a good time when you are forced to tend to me."
 
"...that is the nature of our liaisons."

Baenon wasn't lying. Not just that he couldn't as a fae, but because the time they spent in one another's company was always for business. Aster's annual Future's delivery gave her a week's time in Winter in which Baenon had been charged as her Ward and Guide. In fact, due to his citizenship within Winter, this duty had superseded the Wild Hunt's call multiple times before, much to Midir's chagrin.

But who said no to Queen Mab? Apparently ... only Asemir.

There were no bubbles in this bath. Much as he'd paid good coin for the Inn's best room, seemed only nobility or higher in the mortal realm was spared the luxury of bath soaps. Baenon didn't like bubble baths for various reasons, and he wouldn't deny that it would have been a great hindrance of his current view. Aster was a beautiful, alluring fae, even he could admit to that. His eyes dipped to the sensation of her foot along his upper leg and he grew very, very still.

"You owe me nothing, Aster."
 
"I am aware that I do not owe you anything. I said I like to provide."

Aster felt him grow rigid under her foot and she just rolled her eyes. He was driving her absolutely insane this trip. She was starting to wonder if she had somehow made him mad. She did not move her leg any further.

"Can you help me out, please?" She asked the shuck quietly.

The water had gone cold and goosebumps were starting to prickle her skin. She wanted to be warm again.
 
Still he may have gone, but the shuck's gaze remained calm despite the new complicated combination of cogs this conversation had set churning in his mind. Baenon was not a fae that liked or even allowed physical contact - what arrangement or ... agreement or ... allowance he'd come to terms on with Aster still escaped his own sense of logic. Everything and nothing about his time with the Omnia defied that logic. She made him feel things he otherwise would not allow of himself, and at times he felt utterly out of control around her.

It was infuriating ...but at the same time, liberating. Baenon often felt at odds with himself when around her - a fact that he presently struggled with.

His instincts at her unsolicited touch screamed for many things and not always did one instinct scream louder than the others. She at least made it easy for him by asking for his help and that always gave him the escape he needed from his own thoughts.

"As you wish," Baenon replied, charcoal hands gripping the rim of the tub to lift himself from the waters. He stepped out and moved to assist her with standing before draping a large woolen blanket over her shoulders to wrap herself up in. Leaning down, he picked the bundled Omnia up once more into a bridal carry and took her from the bathing chamber, back into their room.
 
Aster wanted to scream at him sometimes then he would wrap her up in a metaphorical (or literal) blanket and hold her to his chest until she forgot why she was irritated with him. That was what Baenon did to her. He was so frustrating and, yet, she wanted to be with him. She wanted more than sex with him. She wanted to be with him.

The Omnia let her head rest on his chest as he carried her the short way. "Baen, I'm sorry," she said softly. "I shouldn't have touched you. I know better..."

Her words trailed off as they entered into the bedroom. She wasn't sure what else she could say at the moment. She just didn't want him to be mad at her or whatever was up with him. She had no idea anymore.
 
Knew better, and yet still she insisted on poking the shuck, as it were. At times he wondered if it amused her to do so, simply to learn his reaction. Testing to see if he'd become complacent enough with her. Baenon gave her a rumble for a response, one that reverberated deep within his chest but failed for form words on his lips. His arms shifted to deposit the Omnia on the bed, seated with her legs over the side.

For a moment he stood there before the bundled woman and he meant to leave her side to find his way to the fireplace ... until that strange scent caught his senses again. He hadn't noticed in the tub, but now that he nearly stood over her it was nigh overwhelming. It drew him in, the proverbial moth to the flame, and before he knew it the previous offense of her touch was all but forgotten as he slowly nuzzled his way down into the nape of her neck to wallow in this maddeningly alluring perfume.

"Your scent," his warm breath flushed over her skin, "has changed. Why?"
 
Aster sat on the bed and pulled the blanket tighter around her. She heard Baen shift and then felt him close to her. He breathed in deeply and she raised a brow. This male was certainly going insane. He had never sniffed her before and now all of a sudden he had sniffed her multiple times in a day spans.

Shivers ran over her body as his hot breath rolled over her neck. It took her a few seconds that he had asked a question.

"What?" Aster asked softly. "Nothing has changed...I don't wear perfu..."

She trailed off as her brain went through the collective files of her long life. Oh no, fuck.

She had missed delivering the futures this year thanks to Asemir and then they left right around Winter Solstice. She did some mental calculations. When you changed your rather routine schedule after so many years, it messed with your perception of time.

"Fuck," she finally breathed out slowly. Baen was about to be very happy or very upset but either way...she was screwed. She had never been around him during this time before.

"It is the start of my lunar cycle, I believe, Baenon..."
 
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If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn he was growing drunk on her scent. Baenon didn't drink, so he had little to compare the sensation to, but he was shortly losing his faculties over his logical thinking. The shuck lingered there, drowsy on culminating hormones, and barely heard her response.

But he did hear it. The words lunar cycle seemed to flip a switch in his carnal brain that shifted him from drunk to desirous in a matter of moments. He made a point not to stick around Autumn when the bitches were in heat - things got real messy and personal, two things he could not abide for 99% of the population. He'd had Samara numerous times over the years, but she went into isolation during her heat cycle for good reason. She didn't want pups and, frankly, neither did Baenon.

Fighting these carnal urges was almost painful. Aster was to his instincts what a fresh kill was to a starved hound. He even found himself salivating over her scent when he finally shook himself free of the rising lust. With a growl he quickly retreated from the woman and set about collecting his things, "I'll get a separate room."
 
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The shift in Baenon was visible. She didn't know why she hadn't realized the date but it had never mattered before. Baen was the only person she cared to sleep with and she safely at home by the time it hit usually.

Aster looked down and frowned when Baen said he was getting a separate room. Obviously she didn't want that but she couldn't stop him. She could try though.

"Baen, you don't have to do that. It's silly. Plus if you get another room I will end up hurting myself on something in here. You are my eyes, Baen..." Maybe that plea would work.
 
"It is not silly," Baen snarled in return, yanking on his clothes as though Midir had sounded the horn for an impromptu hunt, "it is imperative that I keep my distance lest you seduce me with your-" he gestured vaguely to all of her, "hormones and wiles and end up pregnant."

He'd never hear the end of it. From anyone. Baenon who loathed society, touch, and any allowance of chaos or disorder in his life - knocked up a Omnia in her heat cycle. Then he'd likely be expected to raise the thing and the idea of messy, chaotic, grubby child-hands ruining his perfectly quiet, organized, scheduled life made his skin crawl.

"Absolutely-" he pulled a boot on, "not." And then the other.

"You will be perfectly fine for the evening. I'll return for you in the morning once I've found something to ... deal with this."
 
Baenon snarl-scoffed as he snatched his bag from the table, "As. You. Wish."

And out he went, slamming the door shut behind him.
 
Aster flopped down onto her back and growled again.

He was a fucking asshole and she could not for the life of her understand why she liked him so much. Well...the sex was great and sometimes he was sweet even. The thought of having his kid and having to put up with him for the rest of her life was nauseating.

She didn't even get up to put cloths on. She just kicked the wet blanket onto the floor and snuggled in under the covers.
 
There was one room left at the inn, and it was the simplest and cheapest room available. Baenon complained not. The shuck could make himself comfortable in the most barren of locations - the fact that the bed was a straw mattress made not a lick of difference to him. He slept soundly and rose promptly before dawn.

Making his way down to the main floor and the tavern bar area, Lord Graves rang the bell for service and stood waiting impatiently for the young woman with the morning shift to arrive. She yawned and slumped over the bar lazily, propping her head up on her palm, "What kin I get fer ye?"

The man looked over her with distaste, drawing his already militant posture upwards as if it might undo some of her slovenly presentation, "I require mint leaves, have you any?"

"Fraid not, luv. But ye might fin' it o'er at the General Store jes down the road."

Did this woman have marbles in her mouth or just a condition. Scowling at the affront to his civilized ears, Baenon bid her a curt thank you and made haste to leave her company lest her condition was contagious. The General Store was only a short walk down the road, though somehow it felt as though the walk lasted forever. Not but a few steps out the door, Baenon felt the riveting shock of instinct crawl up his spine and set his proverbial hackles alight.

Someone was watching him. Keenly.

With a short survey of the immediate surroundings of the visible town he could find nothing and no one else awake at this hour, yet the sensation would not abate. His steps quickened and he gave the shopkeep no opportunity for conversation; purchasing both mint leaves and mint oil before returning to the Inn.

"Change of plans," the shuck barged into Aster's room without knocking and quickly snapped the door shut behind him, slide the bolt lock into place and then hurried across the room to the windows to close the inside shutters, "we're leaving now. Out of bed, Omnia."

A strong, strange scent of mint wafted through the room.
 
Aster had slept like shit. It was the first night since the beginning of the trip that she had nightmares. She had not noticed that they subsided when she was curled up with Baen until Baen was not there. They were not something she talked about because it was people were already leery of letting her touch them when they knew she could see their lives randomly. She was not about to tell them that she also randomly relived their memories and they weren't always the pleasant ones.

She growled at Baen when he barged into her room. Firstly, she did not want to get up...she was tired. Secondly, he smelled fucking awful.

"Fuck off, Baenon! You smell like shit and I did not sleep well!"
 
"That was not a suggestion," the snarl held an edge of severity to it typically reserved for those who had garnered his loathing. He'd dropped his things and was at her bedside in less than a breath, a gloved hand roughly snatching the woman's bare upper arm and lifting her to sit up. The grip was tight enough to leave a mark.

"There is no time for your petulance," Baenon leaned down, fangs bared in a grimace that he pressed against her ear leaving just the lengths of her ebony hair to shield her from his skin, "we are being followed. Now do as I say and get dressed. You can sleep when you are dead."

Such was the sympathy of a Sluagh. Releasing her from his iron grip, he moved to find her own bag and withdrew a fresh bundle of clothing for her, placing it on her lap before returning to the windows where he cracked open a shutter to peer out.
 
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