Private Tales Waiting For Something to Undo These Feelings

[Zaire]

The faint chirping of birds could be heard, the slight rays of silver peeking through, illuminating the dewdrops that had bloomed from the night’s cool air. There was a sweetness in the air, crisp like pears yet fragrant like water lilies. All of this was brought to Luella’s attention as she walked on, realizing all too soon that night had passed. Her late night walk had somehow amounted to a daze-induced hike across countless miles. She stopped then, frowning for a moment, looking around her.

Well, she hadn’t been here often, if at all. Deep within the wild places of the face courts, she noted that she was most definitely at the edge of Autumn Court’s territory, close to winter, close to the place she used to call home. The frown deepened as her lavender gaze looked beyond as if her sight was so grand that she could see underhill. She couldn’t, of course, but her memories could place so many images together it was almost like she had never really left. Now though, she was sure so many things had changed, her memories now only inaccuracies. Luella reached behind her, her hand easily finding the hilt of her sword, comfort washing over her.

Luella knew she should go home. Being this close to the border would make another uneasy, and how suspicious did it look for a lone fae like herself to walking around in the early morning light with a massive sword behind her back? She didn’t want trouble, couldn’t afford it really. She had plans in store and to be recklessly injured over a misunderstanding would put dozen of things on hold. Despite being a duanann and having many, many more years ahead of her, recently, the concept of time had begun to alarm her in ways she had yet to really experienced.

With the idea that time was short, Luella began to walk once again— and stopped. She had planned on going back the way she came and yet, while she was almost certain she had turned around… had she? This section of earth before looked fresh, too fresh if she had walked upon it. She looked behind her, and saw what she expected to see in front of her: her boots leaving indents in the moist earth, foliage bending from her weight. The frowned deepened once more, but this time, her eyes narrowed along as well. Something was compelling her forward, intuition? No, not something that innate and a part of her since birth, this was something else.

Luella hesitated, standing in place for many moments, the sun rising further, the weak silver rays turning faintly gold, shining a stronger light on her surroundings. Once more, her hand went to her claymore, remembering that she had centuries to still pay off the loan at the rate she was going, which seemed to be nowhere fast at all. If anything, despite her resolution to stop enduring and instead move forward, this year, Luella had felt she had been pulled in all sorts of directions, like she was being quartered. So many revelations, so many ideas, so precautions, and with it, the fear deep within her belly, only at bay from her irascible state. She felt pressure in her abdomen, that discomfort warning her she was thinking far too much, it was better not to feel that oily feeling, or else who knew what would climb up her throat.

She stepped forward, the self-proclaimed warrior fae allowing herself to not think, to move instead. Perhaps a midnight stroll was not what she needed after all, maybe she needed to walk until the blisters grew and grew and burst, until the soles of her feet were raw and then maybe she would feel that desire to go home. Regardless if she had other plans today, she could consider this her endurance training. Luella didn’t remember taking the leys, although, her only memories of the past few hours had been on conflicting thoughts, but whether she had or not before, whenever she could go back home, she could try running back home. Cardio capacity day it was then.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Short little flower
Filled full of power.
Seeking someone to care,
If only you dare.
Tears shed like a shower,
An event oh so rare.

Quacey looked at the little poem in his journal he had just written. A short break during his training routine about a blossom near to him covered in morning dew. It seemed so frail and yet still in the harshness of this early winter day it held on. A moment of beauty and a splash of color amongst the brown, gray, and white of winter.

The journal was closed once the ink had time to dry. Up he stood shirtless. With no servants to do his laundry for him, he didn't want his shirt to get dry with sweat. Scrubbing sweat out was a hassle. Even more so after it was given the time of journeying to seep in deep into the fabric.

He set the journal down with his shirt and other belongings. His sword picked up as a replacement. A clearing in the trees and stone with a stream running through one end of it. A pleasant little place full of calm and peace. Perfect for him to do his routines without being bothered. Ever since that event at home before the coronation he had been needing some time to move his body and reflect.

But after he had gotten a short ways into practicing his different forms with his blade, he could feel that vibration that told him someone was heading his way. A sigh left his lips. His time alone was over for now. Should he stop and greet this newcomer or continue as if he hadn't notice them?

The large fae opted for the later. It was best not to stop his routine half way through and they might decide not to engage him. He did have a weapon in hand as well so if anything did happen he could defend himself.

So when this newcomer arrived they would find him still going about the motions of shifting between his different forms and guards in the middle of the clearing.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

More and more steps she took, Luella feeling a sense of resoluteness to continue forward. And that sense of duty showed on her face, her full lips set in a thin, grim line as her feet kept moving forward. Somehow, despite her brain telling her this was wrong, her heart was telling her it was right. Often, when she felt something like that, Luella felt she was always wiser whenever she went with her head. Why she was deciding to listen to her heart for all reasons right now was beyond her, but as least it wasn’t because of some man.

She heard him before she saw him, that familiar whistle of a blade through air. Like a mother who was alerted by any sort of a cry from a child, Luella could distinguish this sound even in her sleep. After all, the hissing of a sword was almost euphoric for her in some ways. Not much else got her blood pumping or quickened her heart beat like some pubescent teenage drama queen.

Yet, despite the excitement, caution soon followed suit to extinguished the freshly bloomed flames of eagerness. She paused, listening intently, not hearing a clash of any kind. Based on the rhythm it had to be practice— but that also brought to the forefront of her mind on exactly who would be practicing here in the middle of nowhere. Frisson commenced as she took a step towards the sword, thrill and fear swirling within her taut body.

Unsheathing her sword masterfully so that no sound came from the action, it wasn’t long until Luella’s lilac eyes found the source: a strong, half-naked man who was indeed training— quite similarly to the way she would. She paused, gimlet gaze roving over the sturdy form of this pain. A pang of envy showed in her eyes that soon narrowed. The sinews that showed beneath his flawless skin that flexed and relaxed with each motion showed that this robust athleticism was more than aesthetics. The thrill intensified, as did the fear, and she whistled high, to capture the fae’s attention.

“Today’s my lucky day,” she called out, casually leaning the flat of her claymore against her shoulder as she entered the clearing. A wolffish grin had settled upon her lips while her round, doe-eyes glimmered. “Damn, you’re huge.” There was nearly a foot difference between them, eliciting scowl from Luella. Of course, she would come in contact with someone shortly after Wulren who was bigger than her in every way. Well, almost in every way, her ego probably blew his out of the water. A hand went to her hip as she looked him over once more, from head to toe, a minacious smirk returning to mar her pretty features. “Your form might be a little rusty. Care for a sparring partner? First swing’s on me, you’ll need it.”

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Instinctively, the fae moved through his training without need for active thought. An advantage of having spent millennia honing his body and keeping to his routine. All the thought a novice would require into their actions instead he could devote to following the vibration of movements he felt from this newcomer as they approached.

And what followed he did not expect.

A feminine voice called out to him. Mention of her luck, his size, and then a request to spar with him all followed after she fully entered the clearing. He just wrapped up the last bits of his movements and then stopped as he would have regardless of her entry.

He turned to face her. For the second time what he expected did not happen. She was a fae woman and seemed to be of duanann blood. That made her height on the shorter end for their kind. Not all that unusual, but the way she held a claymore with a single hand was. It was not a common weapon amongst shorter fighters. The blade was designed to further emphasize reach with large sweeping motions. It was something one might expect he would be wielding rather than her.

But he could already see it made sense for her. The single handed grip was evidence enough but the breadth of her shoulders as well as what he could make of her hips and legs in her loose clothing pointed towards how fit she was. And there was also her posture. She held herself with the comfort of a warrior with weapon in hand.

Her comment on sparring was no jest, and she was correct that he was feeling some rust growing on his bones. Perhaps a fortunate event for them both?

Quacey had made up his mind on acceptance, but still had one issue to deal with first. A bit of unintended rudeness, he imagined, that should be addressed.

"If you wish to spar or duel then it is polite and honorable to offer one's name first. A nameless clashing of flesh and blades can be called neither. It is simply violence."

The fae adjusted how he stood. The more casual alert shifted to a wary guard. It was a test. One he would make clear to her.

"So which will it be my fellow warrior? An honorable duel or nameless violence?"

His tone ended the same as it had began: casual yet serious. Even if she had shown him some rudeness he remained respectful. A name would be offer for a name. Action for action. This was a meeting of equals. He tried to make sure his voice carried this meaning that his words might not.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Polite? Honorable? Luella raised a pale brow, tilting her head up towards Quacey as he spoke. A part of her wanted to argue philosophies on violence, and even the fact that it was considered to give one another their names. Yet, she knew her aversion to revealing her name was for something more simpler than the philosophy of violence. Quite frankly, she could just say her first name, but she always felt the need to wear her last name proudly. She had to, after all, no one else would; or rather they couldn’t, they were dead. But to say her name full name and possibly bring shame to her family’s name? Another risk to take? Luella sighed as she mussed over this, knowing her answer.

“My apologies. My name is Luella Balsinde,” She said confidently, her back rim rod straight as she tilted her chin up more so in challenge and perhaps even to look better into Quacey’s eyes. She was met with a calmness that frustrated her slightly. However, it was diminished by what he had chosen to call her. The word fellow warrior had the corners of her mouth twinge up ever so slightly. Even the fact he had gone into a guard dissipated the frustration.

“And your name?” Luella asked, that sense of eagerness emitting from her tone and entire body. Keeping eye contact with the tall duanann, her body was tense as she moved to a better position. Now there was more room between them and they faced each other straight on. After all, he said he would agree to a duel upon sharing their names. Her eyes still roved over him, noting as much as she could and she sheathed her sword briefly. Another challenge. Another moment to prove herself. And another chance to test out some of the new things she had learned and been practicing on. She wondered how they would fare against someone like him.

“Give me a moment?” She asked, already pulling her long platinum hair back behind her, fingers deftly moving the strands into a neat, tight braid that she tied with a worn piece of leather. Pieces framed her face, the hair closer to her face being shorter than she would have liked. She pulled her claymore out silently, eyes blazing passionately as she settled into her usual stance, ready to move in whichever direction she would need to.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

The choice was made. She chose to share her name so they could have an honorable duel.

Quacey's stance became less wary and more purposeful. It was the stance of a man not expecting a life or death fight but a friendly bout of sparring that just so happened to end in some bruising and split lips. It was a sign of his formal acceptance of her request.

"You may call me Quacey. It is an honor to meet you this day Luella Balsinde."

A slight bow was offered to her as a sign of respect.

As he did this, he mind began to tie some strands together. She mentioned Balsinde was he family name. Could she mean those Balsinde? A quick glance to her eyes. Lavender. Confirmation of her truth. Interesting. That family's history was rather mixed by this point in time. One generation was honorable and well respected only for the next to utterly reverse their fortunes and reputation. A sad state of affairs. He doubted she was of that wasteful, foolish generation so perhaps the newest one? Plausible.

But her family history was not an indication of this woman's character. She had shown respect and deserved it in kind. Best he treat her as Luella the warrior than Luella the Belsinde scum. It would be how he himself would wish to be treated if their positions were reversed.

"Take as much time as you need my Lady." A smile crossed his lips. "I would rather see your best than your worst. More of a pleasure that way."

And so Quacey just maintained his stance. When she was ready all she needed to do was tell him as much. Be it with words or action.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Quacey? Luella couldn’t help but think about how unusual of a name that was, or rather, was the it the fact he only had given her his first name? She didn’t take much time pondering this, instead giving him a small nod to signal that she had heard him. And if only because he had suggested it, she decided to return the greeting.

“Oh, no, really the pleasure is all mine... Quacey.” A being called “Lady” had her pause and she had decided that really, she’d prefer a first name basis. Lord and Lady… now those were from a time she really didn’t enjoy much. At least he didn’t call her lass, though. His choice of words were strange, at least to her ears. She briefly wondered if it was because he was a lord, some form of nobility or just really, really old. Looking him over, she couldn’t really place what he was, except that his skin was glistening and he was broad and muscular— maybe not too old, then? His stance was solid and really, this time, Luella knew she couldn’t afford any slip ups. Her lavender gaze became serious, sizing him up once more. No obvious weaknesses to his form, very well, she’d find one.

“Well then, let’s start.” The moment Luella ended her sentence was the moment she lunged into action, two hands on the hilt of her sword. Could she swing it single-handedly, of course, but that would be a surprise she would save for later. For now, it would be her trying to maintain the offense and see if there was any sort of weakness she would be able to exploit. It was high high hopes for her as made a hardy lateral swing from her center to the right. It was a simple move, part of the basics, and she knew he would block it, but that was when the fun would really begin.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

The younger fae woman was quick to charge in after she signaled their start. Rather aggressive action for the weapon she chose to wield. Longer reach tended to be better suited to a more defensive style. Or at least not well suited for the quick closing of that precious gap with a charge. Defeated the purpose of having the reach to maintain said gap. Was she unfamiliar with this fact or just liked taking the offensive momentum so quickly?

Either way her charge was followed up by a horizontal slash towards her right. He was unsure what she might expect his move to be, but he already had an idea in mind.

So the fae stepped into her attack swinging the flat of his blade upwards to parry her swing up above his head. If successful this would be followed by him stepping in further and coming done with a slash from above.

It was a simple maneuver much as her own slash was. Weapons like claymores were difficult to use properly once you were inside their guard. He wished to take advantage of this and then counter with a blow that could put the weight of his longsword, his advance forward, and his own weight behind it. Should the parry work she would need to dodge herself backwards and give up the offensive momentum or take the blow face first. He did not recommend the later, but there were always those willing to take the risk no matter how dire.

If his parry should fail then he would attempt to duck while taking a step back. It was a matter of how heavy her blow was and if she expected his parry. Either way he would need to keep his guard up. Even with the difference in their respective sizes, underestimating her would prove deadly.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella’s breath hitched in her throat, unfortunately finding her assumption to be false. So often she had been met with a vertical block, a sharp clashing of swords that she often overcame by the fact she wasn’t shy to add a upward heel kick to force her opponent to lose their balance. Of course, it was wrong of her to assume such a thing, and it also made it so when Quacey forced her blade up and above her head. A second too late, with her lavender eyes widening at the realization of what was about to happen. Unfortunately she was left very slim options— she was unable to block and considering how even if she jumped back now, the duanann’ s foot forward didn’t guarantee her safety from his blow.

Gnashing her teeth, holding her breath during such a pivotal moment, Luella released her left hand for the grip, needing an arm for balance as she did what her instincts told her: to kick. A part of her hoped he wasn’t as sturdy as he looked, and yet, she could feel not only the strength but the flexibility and skill behind the parry of his. As he stepped forward, she did as well, bringing up her right leg up, the shin catching the soft back of his knee to lift him off balance. To the best of her abilities, after all, her pressure stance was off with her right side being much heavier due to her claymore, causing her to lean more to the right.

As his sword was coming down, she gritted her teeth, preparing for the possible impact and getting second concussion within a month. She raised her left leg, appearing as if she were going for a front kick, but because she was already leaning to the right, her thigh moved sideways, and then kicked, her left foot horizontal as it went to make contact with Quacey’s right thigh.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

His maneuver had worked. She was defenseless in her current position and would need to reposition herself to avoid the blow.... And that did not happen. Instead of moving back or to the side, she instead let go of her blade with one hand and kicked at him. The whole event caused her to go tilting to the heavier, claymore holding side and her kick to get misdirected from what he believed was the back of his knee to instead his thigh. A smart move if she were wielding a lighter weapon.

His blade was not dulled and was coming down upon her body. Something very unfortunate would occur if he continued his current course. When he felt her make contact with his thigh, there would be a bruise no doubt where her kick landed, he made up his mind.

The fae let go with his right hand and swung his arm down towards his thigh. He locked it around her leg and pulled back as he leaned with all his weight forward towards her. As he did all of this he moved so his sword would be swing off to the side of her and let it go. Disarming himself in the process. When his left hand was free he would move it towards her neck to pin her to the ground.

If his plan worked she would be flat on her back on the ground with him on top of her. His right arm locked around her leg pinning it against his thigh. His left pressed into her throat threatening to crush her windpipe.

A frown was on his face as he looked into her lavender eyes. "Yield. My blade would have ended you if I did not willingly abandon it."

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

She grunted as her leg was locked in place. She lamely noted how he was indeed quite strong, after all, her kicks were known in Autumn Court to usually push someone back or at the very least unbalance them. And despite landing her mark, it seemed to do little to even faze Quacey. She was forced to fall back, wincing as her back and shoulders hit the hard ground, only to find that pressure was against her neck. A soft gasp exited, her eyes furious as she realized that he was indeed on top of her. Her left leg was useless, even as she squirmed, and squirming only reminded her of the pressure on her throat.

He was right, she would’ve been killed. Ironically it seemed like she had been putting herself in many situations where she would be killed quickly. This was different than fighting monsters or demons or weird fleshy sludge imps, it seemed her skill was laughable when faced around those of her kind. Was she really that lacking in skill?

Yet, despite knowing that she should yield, that the fight was over before the two of them on the ground, she couldn’t help but scowl up at Quacey. She felt powerless, and really, nothing upset her more. Even if this were to spite him, and maybe earn her a title of a sore loser, Luella couldn’t stop herself as she let go of her claymore. With both hands free she grabbed his face, both of her thumbs pressing up against his eye sockets. A useful tip she had learned back when she was barely starting her journey. His forearm could crush her throat but she’d tear his eyes out first.

“Get. Off.” Luella growled, her face a mess of a curled up lip, narrowed eyes, and brows pressing down together. “It’d be a shame to ruin those pretty eyes of yours.”

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

The younger woman proved to be bad at losing. The fight was over in all but name and she moved her fingers over his eyes. If this was a life or death match rather than the sparring it was then she never would have had that chance. But he had a feeling she knew that. The fact she didn't press in and just asked him to get off was proof of that. Even her current action would prove to be futile if he wanted to force her to say she submitted or turn this into a more violent affair.

All he would need to do is lean himself up swiftly as he slide his hand over her throat and use his superior reach against her. No more fingers over his eyes yet she still had him locked onto her throat. But he did not wish to injure her pride or press this further into violence than need be

"Very well." The fae released her leg and leaned himself up. His arm removing itself from her throat as he did.

A smile touched his face as he looked down at her. "But I must protest your statement. The one with pretty eyes here is you."

And then he got himself back onto his feet. He held out an arm for her to take to help her back up to her feet.

"You fought until the end. My respect for your tenacity. Few would dedicate as you had."

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the tension of the flow of blood making it so clear as she swallowed. It would have been hopeless, but from her experiences, if anyone ever thought that they could break her just by the fact of stopping her for the moment, they would soon learn that to force her into submission they’d have to kill her. The moment Quacey got off of her, Luella brought her hands away from his face, yet she didn’t relax. Instinctively her hand went to her throat, reminding herself of the harrowing situation she could have found herself in.

She quickly sat up, scowling at him as he complimented her eyes, and then proceeded to roll them with exasperation. ThE oNe HeRe WiTh PrEtTy EyEs Is YoU. Of course if he thought complimenting her on her physical appearance would make her feel better then—

Luella looked at Quacey with a confused look. She had tenacity? Luella looked off to the side, biting her lower lip. She never dealt well with compliments like these, especially when she felt like the biggest loser in the world right now. First Wulren and now Quacey, who was next? The scrawny cwn annwn that followed Samara around?

“Again.” She said, bring her lavender gaze back to Quacey, determined. “I was just testing to see if those,” she pointed at him, circling her finger over his entire upper half. “Muscles were for show or not. Obviously they’re not but… next time I won’t make the same mistake. Another round.” Luella paused, knowing she was forgetting something. Oh yes, it was, “Please?”

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Quacey mostly ignored the eye roll, but did notice her reaction to the compliment about her character. An odd contrast. She was full of pride and doubt. Not the easiest or simplest of emotions to balance at once. Perhaps it had something to do with her being such a bad loser?

The words that followed and the gesture got him to glance down at his torso. Nothing different than usual. Just his normal physic and appearance. But she had asked for another round of sparring and even had done so nicely. The look in her eyes made it impossible to say no.... But he couldn't agree to having it so soon.

"It would be my pleasure to go another round with you Luella... later." Quacey said to her as he picked up her claymore for her off the ground. He offered the hilt of it over to her as the blade was pointed his way. Proper way of handing a weapon to another. "There are a few things I need to do first. Such as eat."

He studied her over in her clothing. What he looked to see was if she had developed a sweat as he had, although his was also due to his morning routine as well as their sparring. It was something he would need to address and something she would likely best address as well. So despite the state she appeared to be in, he made up his mind.

"There is a stream over there." The fae pointed towards the one running on the edge of the clearing. "We should relax and bath."

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella was almost beaming as she stood up, hearing that he would indeed spar with her again until he added in the last word, a word she often wasn’t fond of. Later? Luella took her claymore, looking down at the blade as if it held answers for her. She sheathed it, looking over at Quacey, holding back the frown. Not one from irritable but this one was more akin to childlike disappointment. However, he did make a good point. While she had been up all night, Luella had to remember that he probably hadn’t and actually followed through on a routine. She could see that eating would be needed for him. Her stomach growled in response but she ignored it.

When he stared at her, Luella raised a brow, about ready to open her mouth and retort something about him acting like a vulture until he spoke. And his next words almost had her mouth hanging open. She looked over at where he pointed at the stream and then back at him. She repeated that action twice before the words finally came to her mouth.

“I didn’t expect you to be so forward.” Luella’s eyes seemed hesitant, glancing over his body language. Most men couldn’t discern her figure by what she wore, especially since she often binded her chest to keep accidents from happening. However he had been staring at her quite intently and yet the way he said it didn’t seem to match up. “Do you like bedding those who have lost to you?” She said lightly, almost teasingly, placing both hands on her hips, still quite unsure by his suggestion of them bathing. Together? Separately? Why did his voice sound so innocent despite his phrasing?

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Her reaction was odd. She just looked back and further between him and the stream twice. What was she looking for exactly? What did she expect to find? But it all became clear soon enough when she spoke. She had taken his words as an invitation for something less innocent than they were. It took him a bit off guard, not that he showed it.

Quacey recovered right away and just gave her a smile. "No. I do not bed those who have lost to me. I bed those who impress me. And it has been some time since I last bedded anyone."

Her tone held a slight bit of teasing behind them. He decided to tease her back. Although his was likely much drier in nature than her own.

"You may join me or you can bath off on your own. The choice is yours. I'd personally find it much more enjoyable if we bathed together."

A smirk crossed his lips now before adding after a short pause. "Unless you think you could only last as long as our first duel."

And with that he picked up his own sword off the ground and began to head towards the stream where he had left his supplies. He fully expected her to wait till he was done or bath in a separate spot. The fun was just in the teasing after all.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella’s tense shoulders relaxed the moment he cleared things up. She felt almost silly, really, but for a moment she huffed. So those who impressed him? She supposed she couldn’t have fallen in the impressive category. After all, in less than a minute she was flat on her back and he could’ve ended her twice if he wanted. Her pride told her she was foolish for assuming things based on their gender, realizing that to him, this was an interaction between two warriors. Her body was so different from the soft duanann who flitted about effortlessly like swaying wild flowers in a breeze— of course he wasn’t seeking to elevate their duel, he probably saw her biceps and saw the masculine connotation behind them.

Her face turned red at his last comment. Flirting was no longer her forte and it showed, especially with a flustered look directed at Quacey as he picked up his sword. He was most definitely teasing her, Luella glared hard at the back of his head, giving one last sigh before briskly walking after him.

“For your sake I hope the water is cold,” she rebuked, “if it has actually been a long time.” A slight twinge of suspicion followed those words as she finally caught up to Quacey’s much larger stride, just half a step behind him and to his side. She didn’t enjoy staring at people’s backs. “And I have plenty of stamina, I already told you, that first round was just a test for you, nothing else.” Luella quipped, hands moving behind her head to undo her braid.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

This woman surprised Quacey by accepting his offer. Her words to him as she did spoke volumes about how she seemed to live. First was that attempt to protect her own pride by her snarky comments about how long it had been for him and then the reassurance that she indeed had plenty of stamina. His tease was a challenge to her and one she had accepted. Would this be a continuous pattern with her? If so she was lucky he had no interest in using it against her. Manipulation was of little interest to him. Ultimately it always ended poorly for both sides of the event.

But he also wasn't about to let her off the hook from the teasing if she was going to give him rather enjoyable reactions like this. He was a fae after all and they all were tricksters and pranksters at heart.

"It is cold. We will need to find a way to warm ourselves." Quacey looked over at Luella as she followed along by him. "Perhaps you have an idea?"

A smile crossed his lips. An indication he was teasing her yet again. But he didn't plan to just stay flirty. She gave him an opening to judge if she would perceive any jest about her as a challenge that needed to be overcome.

"As for your stamina, you will just have to show me exactly how much personally." A short pause to let her respond or just brew a bit at that one. "Oh and please make your next test not as easy. I can handle everything you have got."

And with that they now would find themselves at the stream. A bundle of supplies laying there. A bar of soap and a pair of towels, luckily he had accidentally grabbed an extra, along with combs for hair. Everything one might need for bathing in a cold mountain stream.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella kept stride with Quacey, which wasn’t the easiest thing to do considering their differing heights. Standing next to him made her physically feel quite small, however the way he spoke to her didn’t. Even with his teasing, which was causing Luella to glower at the ground ahead of her if only to keep the red in her cheeks at bay, none of his words made her feel small or insignificant. Even now at this very moment she felt like she lacked control of the entire situation, from the moment he had her pinned to the ground to now as he lead her to the stream; the anxiety that usually coiled itself up in her stomach was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was that thrill, that fear, that quickening pulse she felt within her when she first entered a fight.

Another frisson shook her body from Quacey’s words, immediately reading all of this as another challenge. Perhaps he thought his flirting disrupted her? She smirked, well, she’d prove him wrong, and give him what he asked for, a test that wouldn’t be easy. He had said please after all.

“Unfortunately, water or fire were not gifted to me at birth,” she said plainly, looking over at his little set up. A pale brow raised up as she took inventory of the two towels, glancing over at Quacey and figuring that perhaps a man of his size would need two towels. Nonchalantly she raised up one foot behind her, removing her boot and sock altogether in one effortlessly push from her fingers and then did the same for the other. Without breaking her stride, Luella then unceremoniously pulled down her breeches, bending down low into a squat easily and loosening the fabric bunched at her ankles before a final push to set her leg free. She did the same, balancing quite easily on one leg as she did this, and stood up.

Her tunic was oversized, she felt quite comfortable in it, especially if she used her imagination and thought it was just an uncharacteristically short dress. Luella’s eyes remained forward, reminding herself that fae wore much less than this, that she too used to wear much less than this. However, since she had began honing her body, to losing the delicate softness of her fragile figure, she had hid herself to the best of her abilities. Her thighs were often an insecurity despite the fact that she appreciated they allowed her to put so much power into a kick.

She strode forward, the stones almost a gentle caress against her feet, the cold air not bothering her. She dipped one foot into the stream and shivered, quickly bringing it back out. She was a woman after all, and only scalding water the temperature of hell was suitable. But she could endure the cold. She turned her head over her shoulder, making eye contact with Quacey.

“But the earth and air and I have always had a wonderful relationship,” she said with a grin, lilac eyes glittering mischievously. “However, I’ve heard more muscle means more warmth, you should be fine, should you not?” She rested a hand at the small of her waist, for the first time giving an actual indicator of just how wide her hips were in conjunction to her taut abdomen. Luella turned around to face the other duanann, placing all her weight on one foot. “Are you a betting man, Quacey? Should we test who can fare the cold waters better?” That grin grew, into something much more hungry, almost wild. “After all, if you’re so worried about my physical prowess, I’d be glad to show you exactly how much I can handle.”

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Where Luella had plenty to take off, Quacey did not. Only the removal of his pants as he wasn't even wearing boots. Perhaps nor the smartest idea but he liked the sensation of his bare feet against stone, dirt, and grass while he trained and moved. A connectedness with the earth herself.

"Air and earth? Good gifts so high in the mountains."

Quacey listened to her comments. Seemed she wanted to challenge him as well. And a bet placed. Interesting. He looked her over as he stepped into the stream. The chill immediate and creeping. A sensation he was use to as often in his travels that he felt it. A reminder of what his response to her should be.

"Tis true. Larger forms handle the cold longer. If you feel a chill I would gladly warm you in my embrace."

He put his arms out a bit to emphasize his words. No clothing hiding his form in the clear water.

"But there is no need that bet. Staying too long will harm rather than help our bodies. And your prowess has never been in doubt. I can see your efforts already."

He indicated towards her exposed legs and thighs as well as her arms as he spoke.

"Your dedication and tenacity once again have earned my respect."

The fae sank down to be sitting in the water. He dunked his head below and rise it back up causing a splash. After pushing the water off his face he continued.

"Are you going to join me or was your courage just for show?"

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella was most definitely in over her head. It seemed that just like when they had sparred, she had assumed one thing about Quacey and he was intent on proving every time she assumed something she was indeed making an ass out of her self. When he had removed his pants, Luella stared at him pointedly in the face, an obvious look of hesitation crossing over her features. As he moved, she made sure her gaze didn’t linger below his neck, reminding herself that men were all the same.

Luella blushed despite glaring at Quacey when he offered to warm her. She hated the fact that every time he said something his voice was even, his face neutral. It made her feel out of her element completely, and wasn’t she, a blonde with a nice figure, supposed to be the femme fatale in this situation? Shouldn’t she be in charge? A warrior vixen who never got flustered by some man. For the most part she never lost the high ground with men, letting them trip over themselves at the sight of her. Quacey seemed interested and uninterested all at the same time: he was completely unreadable.

“It sounds like you’re hoping I’ll get cold, do you wish to touch me so badly?” Luella retaliated back towards the duanann, still doing everything in her power to not look down, even despite that twinge of curiosity. She looked away as he gestured to her legs, immediately pulling her tunic down further on her thighs with both hands, and shivered feeling a breeze that danced behind her upper thighs. She looked at Quacey quizzically, gimlet gaze assessing the situation. She decided then that this was all just one big joke to him. Only she seemed to be feeling this sort of undercurrent of euphemisms and innuendos.

That was when she pulled her tunic over her head, now left in her bindings and short braies. It took her a moment to unlatch the leather binding and to undo it, although when it was off altogether her shoulders slumped in relief, redness and indents from the bindings evident on her chest, rib cage and shoulder blades— a testament to how tight she had wound it. Luella paused, thumbs hooked onto the hem of her braies, waiting a moment to think.

“I have lots of courage,” Luella said finally, pulling down her last garment and stepping out of it, her hands frantically twitching as she wanted to cover herself up. But she did her best to hold her head up high, doing her best to imitate Quacey. Hell would freeze over before she ever admitted to being outdone by a man, especially in a game such as this. She walked out towards him, a slight quiver in her shoulder and legs as the cool water began to submerged her calves. Luella looked Quacey straight in the eye, lavender eyes fierce despite the fact her heart was beating faster and her mouth had started to salivate greatly.

“It’s freezing in here,” she huffed the moment she fully sank down into the water, exactly across from Quacey, bending her legs at a ninety degree angle and gripping her clasped hands between her thighs, if only to maintain some sort of warmth. She kept low, the flowing water licking at her exposed shoulders that showcased goose flesh. Despite her will, Luella shivered, her facing scrunching up into one of annoyance, more so at herself. If he had agreed to the bet, she would’ve lost, easily.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

The water was indeed cold, but spending some time in it was good for the body. Something about the chill seemed to bring the fire out of you while also relaxing your form. A combination that promoted health and healing. At least so an old tutor of his in his youth had told him. He had yet to see any evidence to disprove it.

The temperature of the water did not have his interest long as the younger woman had removed her tunic and was refusing to look anywhere on him but his face. If he was a more mischievous man then he would have said some words to tease her further. Words such as "You are free to look wherever you like, or is this your first time seeing a man?" As enjoyable as such would be for him, they did not know each other yet. A jest likely would become a slight and he was not the kind of man who enjoyed slighting others.

So the fae kept his mouth shut and instead just watched as be soaked in the cold as she removed the last of her clothes. Two things immediately stood out to him: her figure was more voluptuous than her attire implied and she was over doing the binds keeping her breasts secure.

Quacey frowned at this last part.

Her words, both of them, held true. She indeed had courage here and the water was chilly. Her position in the waters was proof of how it was good he never took her bet before. Given the way she had behaved until now, she likely would have refused to leave before him even if she froze to death because of it. That was something he could not have.

Her sitting across from him and the way she focused on his face got Quacey to decide to move. He went over and sat down next to her. Once there he gave her a smile.

"I would like to speak with you Lady Luella. We should not stay in the water long so I will be quick."

Which topic should he start off with? The pause did not last long. The most important one was always best going first.

"Your bindings are too tight. It is not good for your body. Be proud of your figure. It is the picture of beauty and strength as one. You were gifted with a feminine form many envy and the hard work you have put into honing your muscles is evident. Be proud of yourself and show them off. Make others both envy and desire you."

He was not certain why he was so focused on that line of thinking for the topic. It had been too long since he was with a woman. His focus was on her assets and showed.

A pause as he took a moment to correct his own mental course.

"But just as importantly, it likely hinders your movement in combat. A stiff fighter will always lose, and that lose is too often their life. You should not hold parts of yourself back."

At that last comment Quacey felt something. Something he had been feeling since these two met yet hadn't paid enough attention to until now. Luella finding him was no accident. Her feet had carried her to him. A lost little moth drawn to the lantern in the darkness about her.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella shot Quacey a glare as he sat down beside her, doing her best to try and still her shivering but something so innate was hard to do. She hunched over a bit, grateful for her hair to offer the only hint of concealment. It wasn’t much but she was grateful for it nonetheless. She didn’t move though, although she did lean away from him slightly, eyeing him suspiciously. Who on earth wanted to talk in freezing water? But she nodded her head regardless, waiting for him to speak more. Whether it was because she was already scowling or because the water was cold and forced her to scrunch up her face to be resolute, the look she gave Quacey was a frightening one.

“Show what off?” She nearly snarled, suddenly feeling a lot less cold. “Show my tits off when I’m in battle? Distract all the men with my feminine wiles? Not sure if you’ve noticed it or not but I’m a horrible flirt. Especially around men.” She huffed, looking down at her chest and then growing red. Her hands left the small semblance of warmth pressed between her strong thighs and instead went up to cover herself up by crossing her arms over her chest and holding onto herself.

“And even if I did do that and was so beautiful people couldn’t take their eyes off me,” a sarcastic comment, accentuated by how she rolled her eyes as she said it, “I want to win.” Serious and truthful now. She frowned for a moment, thinking over Quacey’s words and then looked over at him, her eyes losing the irritability. “I’m surrounded by strong men. They don’t have to use tricks to win. I already been labeled as someone who fights dirty.” Luella shrugged, finding that label to be inaccurate.

“So if I can best them based off of skill alone, despite being a woman, despite being smaller than them, despite lacking reach and strength and weight and all those other infuriating factors, then I want to do that, each and every single time.” She took a breath, surprised that she had shared this at all. She felt a bit foolish, felt more vulnerable over this than being naked next to a big, naked fae.

“Besides, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” her tone was lighter, the corners of her mouth slightly tipping up as Luella gave Quacey an entirely new look. She brought one hand away from holding herself, reaching over to poke at Quacey’s chest a few times. “As I suspected, no weight on your chest. You have no idea how heavy these things can be sometimes.”

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Things were looking to be getting heated in the cool stream. Luella had taken his meaning entirely in a way he had not intended. He would need to make it right and clarify his intentions else she would leave feeling insulted. Which would be no different than him intentionally insulting her.

A chance for him to clarify did not come any time soon. The gates had been opened and she was taking the chance to say everything that she felt to him. The longer he listened, which he did quietly and with his eyes locked onto her own face or whatever parts of either of their bodies she wished to emphasize, the more he came to understand the reason he had felt that sensation of being lost from her. She was struggling against her gender for respect from those who wielded it as a weapon against her. She wished to prove herself in a struggle she perceived to be at a disadvantage in with what seemed a lack of reliable allies. Truly a terrible position to hold.

So Quacey just waited. He let her speak and he listen. All of it taken in and further his understanding of who this Luella was. And when she was done with a finish of poking his chest and mentioning her own, he gave her a sympathetic smile.

It was time for him to say his peace.

"You speak the truth. I am not aware of how heavy your chest is. Perhaps if I was allowed to place my hands upon them for some time I would have a better understanding."

No doubt she would have a snarky comment of her own in response. So he intentionally paused to give her time to make it.

He became visibly more serious after. His eyes locked onto her own lavender ones.

"Allow me to apologize to you. My intention was never to suggest you show your bare breasts or demean yourself. I merely meant you should take pride in yourself. As a warrior. As a woman. As how both of these are aspects of the whole you. There is no need to hide your chest away nor is there a need to flaunt it."

He had to pause. The topic being on her breasts no doubt making this awkward for the both of them, but he had initiated it and so must press through tot he end.

"As for the topic of these supposedly strong men, they are fools. Your gender. Your size. Your reach. They are irrelevant. They do not make you weaker. It just means your strengths are in other places. You do not have their muscles but they likely lack your agility and swiftness. They may be taller with a longer reach, but they have a larger surface to strike against and are more vulnerable to low aimed attacks. Their claim that you fight dirty is simply them wishing to force you into fighting their way and thus have the advantage against you. Such thinking is dishonorable. Throwing dirt, aiming for vulnerable places, applying poisons. All tactics are valid. It is your conduct before, during, and after that is important. Show respect. Be merciful. Accept what may come without complaint. That is strength and that is honor."

A hand was placed on her shoulder. "In that regard you are superior to these men you spoke of. You upheld yourself admirably and earned my respect."

And with that Quacey decided it was best they not stay too much longer. The water was colder than he had expected. Best to save an extended time bathing for when he was home and could heat the water for comfort. So he dunked his head below the water once more and rose out of the stream back on his feet.

"We should dry ourselves. My home is near and I did not bring food with me." He began to walk back to his belongings. As he did he waved her to follow. "Come. I will feed you and prepare you a proper bath with water as hot as you wish. We can continue our discussion along the way."

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella blinked slowly at Quacey at his suggestion to fondle her. Her hands twitched, thoughts of choking him senseless or head butting him right in his nose immediately came to her mind. As did pushing her thumbs into his eyes until it turned into a bloody jelly, punching him between his legs, kicking him there are well, and even a brief thought of taking his hands and leading them to where his obvious focus was. She held herself back, taking a deep breath, surprised the frigid water hadn’t started to boil around them.

“Let you touch me?” She scoffed with narrowed lilac eyes, hands still twitching to cause harm. “You’d bust before the fun could even begin. I don’t waste my time with boys who can’t handle some simple heavy petting.” Luella seethed at him, eyes blazing with more than anger: a challenge within them. And then it was over, it seemed, Quacey moving on so effortlessly to… keep talking about her figure. That rage still bubbled within her, but as his words complimented her, causing her to look down, her body was still heated from his previous suggestion.

And he continued, seeming to be able to speak much easier than she did, and she softened once again. It was strange to her, that he seemed to understand this mixture of bitterness and shame and pride and hope. Her achievements always seemed to pale when compared to her losses. When he placed his hand on her shoulder she didn’t shrug him off. .

Luella watched him slide back into the water, shivering as he did so, shaking her head slightly. She had stopped to look into his direction, expecting to just see his head. By how red her face turned it was obvious she caught sight of more than just his head as he stood up, somehow unable to look away and looking up at him with a mix of emotions. Half a second later she was dunking her own head under the water, trying to calm her nerves. She couldn’t last long under there, her cheeks, nose and ears stinging from the freezing temperatures that caused her to shoot back up, only to see him walking back to his equipment. Hot water got her attention, causing Luella to quickly stand up.

Her entire body shivered, gooseflesh prominent on her fair skin as she hugged herself, pale blonde hair sticking to her face, neck and shoulders, no longer a viable sense of cover. Luella could care less, practically jumping out of the stream on her tiptoes to follow behind Quacey. Her nose and tips of her pointed ears were tinged with red and her teeth chattered as she murmured magick, air whipping around her to aid in the drying process. Her faster stride brought her to pass Quacey, arriving at his little set up before he could.

“Forgive me but I’m freezing my ass off,” Luella said unapologetically, bending down to pick up a towel, making eye contact— with extra focus on looking at his eyes instead of elsewhere— with Quacey before she tossed him the towel. She noticed the comb and the soap, briefly tilting her head. “Do you actually clean yourself in this stream instead of warm water?” She asked him curiously, taking the other towel and quickly using it to cover the front of her before she dried her face into it. A sigh of relief could be heard from the duanann.

The question wasn’t of major interest to her, and yet she had asked it for a much different reason. What did Quacey plan to continue talking about? Luella wasn’t sure she could be vulnerable again, even if Quacey’s confirmation about her efforts did make her feel better, in a sense. In the back of her head there was still that voice that suggested he was lying, that she knew her reality better than him and shouldn’t take his words to heart.

Quacey