Private Tales Then the Mountain's will Destroy

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Silas gave a cheeky grin at her reply, raising an eyebrow as he nudged her with his elbow. "I think you'll find I'm quite a multifaceted guy, Houri. You just have to know what to ask for." That time, he'd meant to make her blush. It was hard to resist, when that little hint of redness just made her that much more beautiful. That only became more clear as they wandered into town together, the lanterns being lit giving Houri's skin a glow not too unlike that she'd exhibited at the dance, except now she was dressed for a mission and not for a night out.

When he was finally able to tear himself away from her, the town itself was a beauty of a spot in and of itself. Totally disconnected from the discord and strife he and Houri had just left behind hours earlier, it was the picture of peace, with soft gentle tunes leaking from windows, mixed with firelight and shadows of the townsfolk as they settled in for the evening within. It was nothing like Vel Anir, with it's cramped streets and cacophony of sound that brought his head to a simmering ache. This place was relaxing. Calm. It made him feel almost warm inside.

A lot like her, actually.

Something seemed to catch Houri's attention, and at last, she willed herself to pull away from his hand, wandering over to a foggy window of the local inn and peeking inside at the full, punchy tones emanating from within. A man sat inside on a stool, playing for the men and women eating their supper with a long, shining instrument with all manner of buttons and pipes along the spine and a wide rounded end that curved to point back upwards

"Me neither, but I've heard of it." Silas rests his chin on her shoulder as he peeks over it. "It's a brass horn, has a specific name but I can't remember. I do know those little pads he's hitting with his fingers are leather, and they bend and change the tune that comes out of the end."

Smiling, Artesto raises a hand and rests it on her other shoulder.

"Want to go inside and listen? This looks like an inn, so we can stay here for the night."

Houri
 
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Houri tried to ignore the gooseflesh creeping up her arms as Sila's breath tickled her neck in the positions they stood in. Heat flared in her cheeks but she kept her eyes focused forward on the watery forms they could see through the ill-made glass. Along with the horn played were another four musicians and a woman who stood at the front singing or just swaying to the music. The rest of the room looked almost full with patrons sitting about simply enjoying the music or... dancing.

"That sounds like a great plan," it wasn't the inn the Castle Guardian had given them but Houri didn't think it mattered all that much. They were Dreadlords. Initiates, true, but far more capable than the average thug who might see their way to bullying two young people on the road alone. Carefully manoeuvring her way out of Silas' arms without brushing herself against him too much, Houri made for the door.

Inside the warmth hit her face in a rush causing her to suck in a sudden breath. The scents of spiced cider and oaky ale rushed at her next but it was the sounds of the band uninhibited by the glass of the window that really drew her attention now.

"How can I help ye both?" a portly man from behind the bar shouted over the music to them.
 
Silas wondered why the Castle Guardian wouldn't have them staying at a place like this. The environment inside the Inn was like nothing he'd experienced in the little hole-in-the-wall taverns most places had for travelers. The orange glow of the lights, the scent of spice and sugar and alcohol all in an intoxicating mist and hanging over their heads, the jaunty music that made your bones and muscles move of their own volition... It felt less like an inn or tavern and more like a celebration.

These people weren't worried about some civil war, about pressure from their superiors, or which way duty would pull them. Hell, if they were, they were drowning those worries with booze and laughter, the way it ought to be done. There was more than a small part of Silas who wanted to stay longer than a night, to truly immerse himself in a place like this.

If only it were so simple.

Turning to the rotund fellow behind the bar, Silas flashes a friendly grin and tosses a small sack of coin onto the bar, speaking loud enough for the man to hear him over the music and laughter. "Can we get dinner and two beds for the night? Just passin' through and we're bushed!" He found himself looking back at Houri, some silent gratitude in his chest that she'd convinced him to take this slow.

It had been worth it so far.

Houri
 
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The inn keep shrewdly checked the contents of the purse before looking up at them both with the smile Houri expected he reserved for the 'better' guests.

"O' course, Mistress, Master," he inclined his head politely to both then, eyes lingering on their swords, licked his lips before hurrying on. "Pick any table ye want. Teh band are on 'til late but I can hush 'em up earlier if it bothers ye--"

"No, no! The music was what made us come in," Houri said before he could get it into his head that was what he should do anyway, whether they said anything or not. The man looked relieved though the expression quickly vanished replaced instead with smooth showmanship.

"Well o' course ye did! Everyone around 'ere comes tae listen tae Shona an' 'er crew. Always a full 'ouse when they roll through. I 'ave tae pay a pretty penny tae get 'em to play 'ere. All worth it o' course. To please me guests, such as yerselves," he mopped his sweating brow and motioned to a few of the tables that were still free. "Please. Please. Two shakes o' a lambs tail for ye food."

Houri led the way through the crowd to one of the three tables closes to the band with a good view of the performers and the dancers. Sitting was the last thing she wanted to do but she was loathe to leave in case she missed the arriving food.

"I've heard of places like this in the City, though they're more common in the Merchant Quarter than where my family live."
 
Master, huh? Couldn't say he'd be getting used to that, but he wasn't going to turn down the show of hospitality. He bowed his head in thanks and didn't miss the brief drop of his entrepreneurial mask, choosing to gracefully ignore it. Hell, running an Inn musta been harder than an Urahil's head, he couldn't blame him for being a bit on edge!

Looping his arm around Houri's once more, he let her take the lead through the other patrons to find a seat as close to the entertainment as she could. Even when they found a spot, she looked loathe to sit and wait; Silas could see her brimming, practically vibrating with excitement as she watched the show, the musicians playing bouncy, happy songs, the dancers twirling and twisting in tune with the rhythm.

Silas genuinely thought Houri might leap up from her seat and onto the stage herself. Hell, he'd join her if she did. She made him feel like he could get away with just about anything, after all. Perhaps if they were still at it once his stomach was full, he'd take the initiative and pull her up there himself.

Luckily the service was swift, even on a busy night like this. Or at least, the music and dancing made the wait seem to fly by. In what felt like minutes two plates of hot food were in front of them. It wasn't the authentic seafood the last little hamlet had served them, but this was far more hearty; potatoes, steak, vegetables, a veritable full course. Just looking at it made Artesto's mouth water.

"Really?" He spoke between mouthfuls of food, looking up at her curiously. "I guess I spend so much time at the Academy I don't really know much about what the city has to offer. We don't exactly score time off very often. When I was growing up, I didn't have any reason to leave the Guard's sight. Didn't have anyone on the outside, you know?" He didn't speak with sadness, rather he'd accepted that part of his life. Without that early introduction into the Guard lifestyle, he probably wouldn't have assimilated into the Dreadlord program as smoothly as he felt he had.

"If I'd known, I'd have taken you sooner!"

Houri
 
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Dancing or food?

Before the Asylum she would have said dancing without a moments hesitation, but a year of true starvation had taught her food was more important. Proctor Matos said it was some kind of 'trauma' response, but Houri argued it was practical and a sign of her growing maturity. Still, her leg bounced along to the tune as she tucked into the steaming pile of fresh food set in front of her, and stole glances towards the band in between bites. The pork was cooked to perfection and the crisp crackling was enough to finally pull most of her attention off the band and to her plate.

"It's a trek from the Academy, but my sister would let us stay with her if it was too late to make it back," Jiya had said she should visit, she was sure she wouldn't mind if she brought others with her too. She carefully scraped up another forkful, focusing on coating the selection of vegetables in just the right amount of gravy. "I heard we get more spare time in final year," 'more' was a relative word when before they had had none. "Something about finding activities outside of studies," she had never heard something so ridiculous but maybe it meant she could dance more... Maybe she would get Maz to ask the Proctors; they liked him far more than her.

"Weird thinking after this summer it'll be our last year. Then we'll be real Dreadlords."
 
Their last year...

Silas hadn't put a bevy of thought into Graduation and beyond. It had always seemed so far out of reach, but Houri was right; It was fast approaching, and Silas would be a proper Dreadlord. The music seemed to grow fuzzy and dull as he sank back into his thoughts, idly chewing on a tender piece of meat, eyes staring at the prongs of his fork. Was he ready? The last year had been so full of twists and turns, that he'd barely had time to work on his magic, let alone think about what he wanted to do when he was done with all of this.

Artesto blinked, and came out of his momentary trance, looking back up at his tablemate with a smile. "Activities, huh? Awfully vague, isn't it? Now, I'm not saying that I wouldn't mind more time to myself, or more organized events like that dance to attend..." Silas leaned forward on an elbow, pointing his fork her way. "...But I think we both know a few of our classmates who probably shouldn't be left to their own devices for too long."

Sure, Silas and Houri liked dancing, but he could only imagine what people like Kor, Fennec, and Thraah had for hobbies. And if Soleil was still around? Silas would be sleeping with an eye open, you could bet your ass on that.

Scooping up some of the potatoes into his mouth, he turns his head towards the band, admiring the display they were putting on. Silas hadn't seen music played from so close since he was a kid, and it was a drastically different experience when you could feel every vibration reverberating through your entire body. Well, Silas could always feel it. That was kind of his thing, but it was certainly more intense from this distance.

"But... yeah. Right now, studies are the last thing on my mind, Houri. I want to enjoy this trip, for however long it lasts. If it keeps feeling as good as it does now, I think I'll be able to take on anything next year."

Houri
 
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Awfully vague isn't it?

Houri snorted her agreement in a manner her mother would have scolded her for. She carefully curated another forkful and savoured the mixture of tastes on her tongue whilst listening to the rest of what Silas had to say. She had to agree with him that perhaps organised dances were not all bad. She would make a point to stay away from Leander next time, but she had had fun with Silas and later, with Zaire. At least... until he had thrown up on her. She tried not to linger on those thoughts as she ate.

"Well, if we can fetch a pair of horses in the morning the Custodian said it would take us about a week to get back on foot. Maybe a little more if we hit bad weather," her lips twitched at the irony. It would be a hard story to sell to the Proctors but as long as they returned, they were more lenient in the post rebellion days. She scraped the last of her plate clean then daintily wiped at her mouth, eyes flickering once more to the dance floor. She'd never seen so many people dancing lost in their own worlds. There was no set steps, no restrictions, just joy and movement.

"Do you have a favourite dance? Or song?"
 
Maybe you could make the argument that Silas was a bit headstrong, or tended to act before thinking. That was true, sometimes. What you couldn't claim, however, was that he didn't know how to read a room or take a hint. Houri was doing her best to invest herself in the food on her plate and the conversation they were holding, but her heart wasn't in it. Every time there was a pause, between every bite of her dinner, her eyes traveled back to the dance floor, her entire body seeming to glow as she watched the men and women enjoy themselves without care or worry.

Silas smirked, just a little, as he placed his fork down onto his plate. Here he was trying to enjoy his time with Houri in the traditional sense, dinner in a warm tavern, and pleasant conversation about their lives. It was too easy for him to forget that Houri wasn't an ordinary girl. Hell, she wasn't even an ordinary Initiate. She had a zeal for enjoying life, in a way that Artesto figured a lot of the others could learn a damned good lesson from. She didn't need him to idly flirt with her over a hot plate of food.

She needed to dance.

"I'll tell you my favorite song later on, It's a whole story, but..." Silas tilted his head back towards the dance floor, beaming in anticipation of her answer. "What do you say we cut dinner short and I show you my favorite dance right now?"

Houri
 
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It was as though Silas had said the magic words. Houri's eyes snapped back to his alight with excitement and it looked as though her lips itched to stretch into a wide grin. A Dreadlord's training was the only thing that kept it to a subtle curve of the lips instead; it was second nature to hide the true depths of her emotions even with someone like Silas.

"Is it that obvious?" she laughed, glancing back to where she had been watching the dancers. Once she would have been embarrassed about something so personal being so obvious but with Silas, those concerns didn't exist. She had seen for herself he shared this passion with her or at the very least enjoyed it. She didn't have to worry with him that he might suddenly snap at her to be quiet or stop daydreaming. Allowing her smile to grow a little more she got to her feet and held out a hand.

"I'd love that, Silas."
 
Silas grinned up at Houri like a kid who'd just been given candy. He'd had the slightest inkling she might be interested in that offer, and he was beyond glad that she was. The biggest feast in Arethil couldn't stop him from reliving the fun he'd had dancing with her, and if this was even half as incredible as the last time they'd moved together, it would have made all the frustration of the boat ride over here worth it, and then some.

Artesto reached up and took her hand, standing from his seat. "Maybe, but only because I think I want the same thing right now..." He purred through a smirk, pulling her to follow him as he walked backward towards the dance floor. The others made room for them, a few cheers and shouts of encouragement surrounding the pair as Silas tugged Houri close and caught her by the hips.

Just like last time, it almost immediately felt right, the way she was shaped fit so perfectly against his hands-- he could move her, lift her up, spin her... all with such ease. The smirk he'd worn split into a grin as he moved to the music. With the bouncing drumbeat of revelry resting underneath the merry tones of the song, he pulled the weather-bending beauty in closer to his chest before dipping her low enough that his hand at her midsection was nearly all that held her aloft and brought her back to balance.

"I didn't realize how badly I wanted to do this again..." He muttered down to her.

Houri
 
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Houri had not lied when she had said she had never heard music like the band playing on stage before. Yet the time it had taken for their food to arrive and to eat most - or all in Houri's case - of it, she had learnt the unique rhythm of the music. It was unlike anything she had ever danced to before. Whereas Anirian music was all strings and soft, lilting sounds accompanied by dances that were meant to look pretty, this music was about soul and moving without care. Dancing like nobody else mattered or cared. She had been this close to letting go of control the last time she had danced with Silas too, but that shred of decorum had remained given their surroundings and the people who watched.

Now, though...

Nobody knew them. Nobody knew what they were. Nobody cared. Every couple was locked in their own moment, experiencing the music in their own way. Houri had never felt so free.

Her grin matched Silas' as he bent her over backwards. With only one foot on the floor, her other leg stretched out in a dancers kick, she was reliant on Silas to not drop her. It was exhilarating; just like the man grinning back at her.

"Me neither," she confessed in a hoarse whisper, her eyes flickering between his.
 
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She never failed to impress him, be it in the field or off of it. For Silas, it was a simple thing to memorize the vibrations that made up the rhythm of a song-- It was what he was trained to do, and he could pick up on just about any music without much of a fuss. Houri, though, the way she matched his movements wordlessly, only communicating through the locking of their eyes on one another, it was pure, raw talent.

She didn't have the vibrations. Only her ears, and she plunged herself headfirst into the music without any fear. In that way, she led this dance even more than he did. Artesto was equal parts enchanted and dumbfounded by the power she held over him in this moment of mutual movement, and the growing number of other patrons who watched on and admired. Did they understand? The feelings that were coursing through them? The lightning that ran between their eyes? No, of course not. Only he and Houri knew the significance of their dance.

Luana was life, luminance that poured from every pore of her smooth skin as she twirled and moved as though she were one with the merriment in the air around her, every brush of her body against his was pure energy, burning fire that spread across the floor and drew in their onlookers and fellow dancers with its tempting warmth.

"I aim to make this last." He murmured back, bringing his hands to her hips and pulling her flush to his body, turning them around in time with a sweeping note. "If it means staying like this, I'll tip-toe the rest of the way home."

Houri
 
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Music usually calmed the voices in her mind, but never had music drowned them out entirely. The only other time she had had the rare respite had been the last time Silas had held her this way. She was no fool to think it a mere coincidence, but she was young enough not to grasp its full meaning straight away but then, she was content not to know. Not to understand. From the conversations she had had with Livia and Thraah this was what was normal. The complicated tumble of her stomach, the way her pulse faltered at the way his eyes lingered on hers or spiked when they dipped to her lips, they were rare signs not everything inside of her was broken. That the accident and the asylum had not robbed her of every normal experience a girl her age should have.

She thought the heat of his body and that which ran through her veins might burn them both when he pressed her once again flush against him. Her hands slid up his shoulders then clasped loosely behind his neck. A surprising amount of men in the Academy were shorter than she was, so it was a delightful novelty she had to tilt her head slightly to look up at him pressed as close as they were. Her eyes danced with a mischief she rarely showed as she answered:

"Is that a threat or a promise, Artesto?"
 
At some point Silas stopped actively thinking about the dance he was performing. The steps and movements he was recalling from his memory faded away, and now he was far more focused on the act of simply holding Houri in his arms. The vibrations would continue to carry them, but his mind yearned only for the lightning that seemed to spark between their pores, the burning sun that seemed to seep from her flesh into his every time she pressed against him.

Though he still felt the rush of the wind beneath his feet and against his back as he spun her 'round and 'round the small dance floor, the way her breath tumbled out of her throat and rolled across his face seemed so much stronger, the forces that carried her from place to place, the movements she made underneath his touch seemed like the hands of Immortals guiding Luana towards absolute perfection.

She looked up at him with a single question, and a glimmer in her eyes he'd never seen before. There'd been a fire in her gaze the last time they'd danced, but this was different. There was something else, hidden underneath the embers of her stare. It drew him in, made him bring his head closer, touching his forehead to hers.

"I dunno Luana... help me find out?" He breathed back to her.

Houri
 
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There was a roaring in her ears and for once it had nothing to do with Ahdvi's raging storms, or Shiva's howling winds. It was just her own heart, creating an allegro melody all of its own. Her skin felt as though it were burning and she was certain that at least her cheeks were flushed. Could he feel how her palms sweated? How her breathing shuddered in her ribcage when his forehead came to rest against hers? His eyes filled her vision blocking out the people dancing around them, the haze of the inn's fire, and even the band itself. The world narrowed down until there was nothing left but those eyes and...

Her eyes dipped briefly to his lips.

They already shared the same breath pressed this close. Houri found herself wondering for the first time in her life, what it might be like to share something more. Something deeper. Houri's gaze flickered up once more, searching those eyes that had so quickly become her world for any hint she was reading this wrong, that this step would break her into pieces she wasn't sure she would recover from. Tentatively, she leaned forward and brushed her lips across his in a silent answer to his question.
 
If they were still dancing, Silas could no longer tell.

Time slowed to a crawl around him as he watched Houri lean forward, her eyes watching him all the while. Certainly, she wasn't about to do what it appeared she was doing. The time he'd spent with her had been some of the most fun he'd ever had, but... perhaps Artesto had deluded himself into believing this was a game she was playing with him, that she was humoring him, letting him have his fun before they parted ways once they got home.

This wasn't a game. Houri's lips were touching his, and before he could even fully process that fact, he was kissing her back. His arms left the positions meant to hold them in a dance and instead wrapped around the small of her back, amber eyes closing as he sated that burning curiosity that had only been growing from an ember to a flame in the back of his mind, each time he looked at her, so briefly pondering what it would feel like to have her lips against his own, to have her breath mixed with his.

For a moment, he thought of Livia. Only a few weeks ago, she'd said that she loved him. In the moment, Silas had believed her, but in the weeks following she'd grown distant once again, actively avoiding him whenever she was able. Silas wasn't sure what she truly thought of him, and now she'd gone off an some mission with Ivan Skender without even saying goodbye.

Whatever this was that he felt between he and Houri, he wanted to seize it; to grasp it with both hands until he couldn't hold on any longer. He was sick of being toyed with, of being loved one day and ostracized the next. So Artesto pushed those thoughts away and held her close, reveled in her kiss for one more moment, a soft, satisfied breath escaping his lips as he pulled away.

"Yeah..." He breathed against her face, eyes lidded and dilated. "Let's take our time..."

And he kissed her again, a hand sliding up to rest amongst the tresses of her hair.

Houri
 
Houri made a noise in the back of her throat that was half relief, half joy as he kissed her again.

She knew her greatest weakness was not being able to navigate emotions. So, although all the signs and quiet voices in her mind had assured her he cared for her there had been a part of her that had doubted it. Even when he had kissed her back she had been tense, ready for him to pull back and laugh at her, or sneer at her in disgust. After all, who would care for a broken doll like her? Her family had an obligation to, Livia and Thraah she still didn't wholly understand, and everyone else... well, she heard what they whispered in the corridors of the Academy. But this... she hadn't been wrong. She had learnt, somehow, to navigate the ocean of one of the hardest to understand emotions at all and arrived in the safe harbour of returned affection.

Maybe... Maybe she wasn't beyond saving.

Houri forgot the dance entirely. Her hands slid from his shoulders to the broad expanse of his chest then down to rest upon his lower back. Her fingers curled into his shirt to pull him impossibly closer as their kiss continued.
 
Silas felt his entire body shiver; every muscle trembling underneath her touch as her hands slid down over his chest and around to his lower back. With the briefest sensation of her skin against his, her fingers as they hooked his shirt and pulled him closer, he lost himself in her even more. The worries and doubts that had lingered even on the fringes of his mind fell by the wayside, forgotten and discarded as the taste of her lips clouded his head, intoxicating him.

What had been a dance that captivated everybody in the room had devolved into a pair of teenagers shamelessly making out with each other in the middle of a crowded dance floor. It was easy to be oblivious to an audience when the only person who mattered in the moment was the one holding you close, but a polite nudge from one of their fellow patrons did draw Silas' gaze away from the beautiful woman seeking his lips again and again.

He could offer only a sheepish smile to the older woman looking down at him with a hint of chastisement behind her gaze. There was a smidge of guilt now, worming its way back to him as he realized how they'd likely distorted the mood of the tavern.

When next Houri's lips left his, Artesto allowed his face to slide, his lips trailing soft, affectionate pecks across the smooth skin of her cheek, a hand rising to brush aside her hair as he found her ear and peppered it as well. "We're causing a scene..." He whispered to her, his hands seemingly missing the memo as they traveled from her hair down the length of her back, eager to get any reaction from her that he could manage. "Maybe this isn't the place for this..."

Houri
 
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Houri managed to hold in her laughter until the woman who had nudged them drifted back into the crowds. Then it bubbled out of her in an uncontrollable fit, forcing her to hide her face against his chest in an attempt to muffle it. She would have thought she would feel some sort of shame or guilt for being caught, but there was only that fluttering feeling in her stomach that made her giddy. How could she feel guilty for feeling so happy? As his fingers brushed the curve of her spine in an almost phantom touch she shivered and peeked up at him, teeth sinking into her bottom lip to keep from laughing again.

"I suppose not," she peered over his shoulder to see if she could spot the woman who had told them off but she was nowhere to be seen. It seemed in their time dancing and kissing, most of the patrons had left the dancefloor. A dedicated crowd of fans still twirled in front of the band which showed no signs of stopping any time soon. Houri found herself torn between wanting to stay and wanting to find somewhere quieter to explore... this.

"There is something a little exciting about being told off though," she admitted with another laugh. No-one here was going to lock them in solitary confinement for being kids. It made the desire to push the limits of rules a tantalising one.
 
Silas shared in Houri's mixed emotions. The music hadn't stopped, and (most) of the people around them hadn't stopped dancing. It was rather rude to stop partway through, and Silas certainly didn't want to seem as though he'd lost interest in having this moment with her because something else had distracted him for a moment.

At the same time, there was a lingering temptation in the air that hadn't been there before. The kiss, or rather, the intensity of it, now offered them another option that hung over them like a carrot on a stick. They could keep dancing or slink away to privacy and chase that feeling they'd just evoked in each other.

Honestly, both appealed to him. Looking down at her as she giggled at the situation they'd put themselves in didn't help him choose, either. Artesto could only wear a grin as his hands slid from where they'd been entangled in her hair, slowly running down her back to her waist where he'd held her previously. "A little, but..." Silas' head tilted, and he found himself leaning down to kiss her again. This time it was more chaste, though Sil was clearly restraining himself.

Barely.

"I wasn't doing it to get their attention. It's yours I want." He muttered against her lips as he forced himself to pull back. Gods, if he wasn't careful he was going to start again. Clearing his throat, Silas attempts to recompose himself, taking some of the husky bass out of his voice. "It is getting late. We should, er... probably turn in soon, anyways."

Hilarious, how he said it as though he'd be able to fall asleep.

Houri
 
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How could something so chaste and tender make her so breathless?

"Mm... Y-yeah," she slowly let herself rock back onto her heels, loathe to pull away from the inviting heat he radiated and the security of his arms. "You're probably right," they would need to leave early in the morning if they were going to keep to their schedule and avoid having the Academy send out Proctors after them. There would be a far worse punishment that a restless night if they were found to just be taking their time. They had to balance it right if they wanted any time at all together, and after that kiss... Houri wanted everything she should get.

There was a heated silence between the two initiates as they walked up the creaking stairs.

Houri's mind went back to their midnight baking sessions when Livia had spoken of the man waiting upstairs in her bed. Her pulse raced at the thought Silas might expect the same. Since the revolution the ban on relationships had been lifted and the students had taken full advantage of it, but Houri didn't know if she wanted to. The silence in her head unnerved her. Admitting these feelings, showing them so publicly.... that was a lot to process. Would he be mad if she said goodnight at the door?

She had run out of time to think anymore for they arrived at their doors and awkward hovered before hers.

"Well..." she cleared her throat, a faint blush creeping back across her cheeks. "Goodnight, then..."
 
There was an absolute mess of desires and feelings in Silas' head as Houri reluctantly pulled away from him. He wanted to keep dancing with her, wanted to feel her lips against his again, wanted to do more, to feel more of her, in ways he probably shouldn't have been thinking about. It was enough to give him a headache, to the point he likely wouldn't have been able to keep dancing if he tried.

That lingering tension followed them, even as they paid for a pair of rooms and quietly walked up the stairs together. There was that question, hanging in the hallway as they stood before their doors, even if neither of them had asked it.

Did they want to take this further?

Silas might have garnered a reputation for himself as a bit of a casanova, but he wasn't single-minded or lecherous by any stretch of the imagination: He wouldn't ever attempt to push somebody into physical intimacy, romantic or otherwise. Of course, there was some part of him that wanted Houri. But... she was his friend, before she was anything else. As Luana turned and looked up at him, wishing him an awkward and flushed goodnight, Artesto bit his cheek as he decided against risking that friendship in exchange for more.

For tonight.

That didn't mean he wouldn't act on his impulses, just a little bit. In response to her goodnight, Silas would step forward and kiss her again, his body pressing against hers until her back was against the door to her room for the night. His hands came up and held her, clutched her snugly to his chest for what seemed minutes, but was only seconds before he pulled away with a breath, bringing up a wrist to wipe at his mouth.

"Thank you, for tonight. I'll see you in the morning, Ri."

Just as he'd thought, Silas lay sleepless for much of the night, his nerves still alight with what had happened. It was as though he couldn't correctly process how he felt, what he wanted, or why he'd acted the way he had. It was only when the last sounds of cleaning from downstairs ceased was he able to quell his thoughts enough for a few hours' sleep.

Houri
 
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Houri tossed and turned the night away. Her body was too hot, ached too much, was too sensitive to the scratchy sheets of the inn. All she could think of was the intensity of their kiss, the feel of his calloused hands against the bare skin of her hip or tangled in her braids. The heat of him pressing into her in all the right places. Her mind traitorously wondered what it would be like to have more than just his hands on her bare flesh and each time she managed to slip into the light throws of sleep it was such thoughts that had her gasping as she woke.

In the end as the pale grey of dawn filtered through the thin curtains, Houri admitted defeat and went in search of a cold shower and hot coffee. She found the first in the communal bathing rooms downstairs, and the second shortly after in the inns great hall. It felt somewhat smaller in the daylight without the sound of music. A few other early patrons had also found seats at which to nurse coffee and none gave her a second glance as she found a place by the window and nursed her own cup.
 
Silas woke up groggy and unfocused. Even as he sat up in the bed a blanket of fog seemed to drape over his mind, his eyelids drooping in defeat every time he tried to pull them open. Ugh, how on earth did he have a hangover when he hadn't had a sip to drink? A hand came to his face, a grumble of protest muffled by his palm as he swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up.

Even after he'd fallen asleep, it was restless. Omens plagued his dreams, worries that somewhere just beyond the horizon bad things were happening, things he couldn't do anything about. It felt stupid to worry about dreams, about unnamed events that were likely figments of imagination, but tell that to an overactive and overstimulated mind.

Trudging over to the bathroom sink, he splashed some water on his face and looked up at his reflection, blonde locks falling messily down over his eyes. He looked like shit, even for his standards. Silas did his best to tidy up a bit, but he needed a drink, something that would kick him in the pants and get him going. They were on a time limit, even if they'd decided to be liberal about it.

In only a few minutes, Houri would find herself sat across from Silas once more, holding his own cup of coffee with baggy eyes to match. Well, one would assume they were baggy, but they were barely open, amber slits peeking down at his coffee between sips, struggling to wake up.

"Mornin'" He mumbled, his head hanging low between his shoulders as he let out a yawn. "Gods I wish we'd taken a wagon."

Houri
 
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