Private Tales What Wolves Hide Their Teeth?

[Kilien Basmarc]

For as cutthroat as she was with everyone else, she sure was just the sweetest black licorice to him. Kilien canted his head to look at her, smiling warmly back. How she volunteered to do just about anything and everything with him could not be further from where they started.

Her professing that they would never be friends.

At least she still used his last name. The more things changed...

He stood, shifted over to her, and wrapped his long arms around her, hugging her so snugly to him that when he leaned back her boots would lift off the ship deck.

"You're a peach," he pressed a smooch into her cheek as he held her aloft. Another. And another.

He'd teach her anything she wanted to know.


~~~


"This... this is where... we'll be staying," stated Tafinn, breathlessly, as their long, long, looooong walk from the docks up to the upper levels of the merchant district finally came to a slow pause. The distance wasn't the issue here, but even Kilien would admit that the grade of the slope that met their steps was more than he'd expected. Dumb to think Elbion would be on level ground when it was built along the side of a mountain. The various districts seemed to be carved into giant terraces that span the entire width of the city.

The streets wove elegantly between quarters in looped hairpin turns that climbed the levels.

For those on foot there were steps.

So many steps.

Vel Anir was flat as one of Vittoria's pancakes compared to this. No wonder everyone here had massive calves.

Tafinn, heavily winded, swayed a languishing hand toward the sign of a rather prim looking building: The Marigold Inn. Its whitewashed walls were elegantly hand-painted with golden flowers to match the carved and gilded sign hung just over the main entrance. Every window had a flowerbox of - you guessed it - marigolds. Bright and blooming and giving his nose an awful tickle.

"How far are we from the college?" Kilien asked as he shifted his and Vittoria's traveling cloaks from one arm to the other. They'd gotten rather warm on the trek up.

"About half as far as we've already come," Tafinn nodded and blew out his cheeks, "but we'll have more luck catching a carriage here."

Down at the warf there had been lots of catch-carts but apparently they'd arrived during the midday surge. Not an empty cart in sight. So they walked. Kilien didn't mind but his feet would be grateful for a break.

"Take this inside to the front desk," Tafinn said, withdrawing a mildly crumpled scroll and handing it to Vittoria, "it has the reservations. I need... a few minutes to catch my breath."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

She quirked a brow, staring at the scroll as if waiting for the simple use of manners. When none came, she clicked her tongue and gingerly took the parchment roll with forefinger and thumb. Her eyes waged like the sea it was reminiscent of, but still she found a sense of calm looking to Kilien.

Silently, she motioned for him to accompany her inside.

"I really wish we did not have to stay somewhere so... floral." There simply was too much detail devoted to it, to simple marigolds. Vittoria sighed softly, leading the way to a desk where a gnome looking creature sat behind.

"Afternoon, new arrivals!" He spoke in Common.

Vittoria hummed something along the lines of pleasant, placing the scroll down before them. The gnome flattened it out, read the scrawled letters, and smiled. "Ah! Anirians! Yes, I have your rooms! Two, rooms for two people!"

She paused, looking to Kilien before the scroll. "We are a party of three... so, would it not be three rooms?"

"Ahh... well... you see we only have two rooms left, I can see to it that —"

"No, no. Two shall be fine."

"Right, well... here are your keys. Upstairs, on the third storey will be your rooms. This one here has a sofa that may fit a small someone..." He held up a key. Vittoria took it.

"Tafinn, another Anirian, is just catching his breath outside. Be sure to leave the other key for him, please."

And with that, Vittoria lead Kilien and their luggage to the stairs to their left.

"You do not mind, do you? If we share a room. I can take the small sofa... unless you are not opposed to me sleeping beside you." She asked as they slowly ascended the stairs. It was a tight spiral almost, but Vittoria seemed to keep a general pace. Not even a day in Elbion and she felt as if she did not need to train any endurance later today.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

He remained dead silent during the exchange. Vittoria got what Vittoria wanted and there was no one on this gods-given land that would sway her thoughts otherwise. If sharing a room was fine by her, he would not question it.

It wasn't as if she hadn't stolen into his dorm or he to her own on the occasion to spend the evening talking, cuddling, and classwork. But they usually parted ways before it ever got too late and he'd certainly never spent evenings with her so dangerously close to the full moon. The very thought opened the gate to his anxiety and it came wooshing back to the pit of his stomach with such force that he nearly keeled over.

"Nnn-" Kilien willed himself not to look sick and instead busied himself with picking up their things from where he'd set them on the floor, "noh, of course not. No one's sleepin on a sofa, especially not you."

Boots padded after her up the stairs where he allowed himself the luxury of his view for several long moments. Yeah, Vittoria's rear made a good balm for the brain.

"It'll be like the academy, but the whole night. No Proctor checks." He did manage a smile at that as Vi made the landing and stepped off down the hall, "All..." but there came reality again.

Every night. All night.

Right up to the full moon.

Kilien swallowed.

"...all week."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

His voice was turning... odd.

The inflections in his voice were not normal, and Vittoria skewered him with a look that hinted at her suspect of him.

"Kilen..." Voice soft, directed. She eyed him another moment before walking to their room they would be sharing. If she were in Vel Anir, she could have used her magic to unlock the door, but here in Elbion, shackled, she used a mundane key to open the door to their small room. The bed was large enough for two, but the sofa looked thin and much too stiff.

Kilien was right. It would not be so bad as they had shared a bed for hours before sneaking off and away. Here, they would not have to.

"Are you... nervous of sharing a bed?" She asked, turning to peer at him as she placed her bags onto the sofa. "If... you are not ready to lay with me... then it is noted, Kilien. No need to be... evasive of it." Her eyes narrowed, not sure if that was what she was picking up on. Vittoria and Kilien had gotten pretty close a few times, but if he did not want to go that far while in Elbion, Vittoria could respect that as she knew the moment would come one day...

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

His feet stopped. His eyes saucered.

You didn't know that was a verb until now, but you know exactly what it means.

"Dyeh-buah-" there would be a point at which his feet, hands, mouth, and brain would all agree on what they were doing, but that was not this moment. He staggered just beyond the door, faintly hunched in a way similar to how one might when experiencing a forty-wagon pile up on a trade route. The pile-up signified countless thoughts all colliding at the intersection of taking Vittoria Larrainth's virginity and not revealing my biggest secret while sharing a bed with Vittoria Larrainth.

He gestured at her with his free hand, not quite yet making eye contact.

"Hold-" his hand flexed, "you-" pointed, "that-" balled. Kilien pressed his lips and hmmm'd gruffly.

"Pigeon feathers."

He was back to pointing at her, brows furrowed and eyes squinting to ensure he was hearing things correctly.

"You... want... to?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria was now witnessing something peculiar. She had never seen someone so... disoriented.

Her brow quirked at him, watching him struggle with words and movement, but Vittoria knew this was how beings reacted to surprising things. At last, he managed words coherent enough that, although spoken with too much pause in between, formed a short sentence. "I have been thinking about it since we spoke about the Malakath Kiss and... the others. I will not harm you, Kilien. These make sure of it."

Did she know or understand the imagery picking up cuffs awaiting her on a small table would look like? No. To Vittoria, she had not read anything about cuffs or restraints used in pleasure. These cuffs were for her to put on, to nullify her connection to her magical wells.

"I will not be unmaking you like I did that boy that stole a kiss from me. You I like. A lot."

That should put him at ease. Perhaps...

Vittoria looked to Kilien, a small smile working it's way on her lips. All for him. "Only... if you are ready. Of course. I can wait for you."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

She still thought he was afraid of her.

She still had it all wrong.

The more Vittoria spoke, the more his body realigned. In the end, his hand dropped slowly to his side and he stood smiling at her, fondness crinkling his eyes. Until now his biggest concern was that they moved at her pace. That he not overstep the limits or make her uncomfortable. He had been patiently waiting for her.

Kilien was not someone who had a difficult time finding bedmates when he wanted that sort of attention, but that had never been the goal here.

There'd never really been a goal with Vittoria to begin with. This thing between them had just sort of... happened. Now he simply was here to see just how much more he could know of her that no one else did.

"You like me?" his jaw dropped in a play of dawning disbelief, "like ... this much?"

He dropped their bags and coats where he stood and stretched his arms out to either side, fingers wiggling in demonstration.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria's cheeks twitched as her smile grew, her teeth bared only in a show of amusement as laughter bubbled through her.

She was unsure of these feelings she possessed, foreign to her, but Vittoria thought on it enough to understand some aspects. "I fear like may be inferior of what I am thinking and feeling." She crossed the distance slowly, abandoning the shackles that she would have to put on eventually. With is arms outstretched, measuring just how much her fondness for him could be, Vittoria wrapped her arms around his middle.

There, her head softly rested at his shoulder. "This much." She tightened her arms, burying her face into his coat. Vittoria spoke lowly, as she often did when it came to talking about her own emotions.

Kilien was the only person to bring out warmth from her. The first that Vittoria could experience such feelings and thoughts about a person, like the books she liked to read.

"Should we go find our charge? See how he fares before we go explore this city for something to eat?" Vittoria had done most of the cooking when they made camp traveling to the Falwood Stone. Sizzling bacon, eggs, bread, and plenty of broth, she had been looking forward to something not made by her.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Mm." A contented rumble answered in a puff of warm breath over her head as he nuzzled into her hair. Like a trap snare, his arms coiled about her and hugged her closely again, their charge utterly forgotten for the exchange shared just now. How could any man hope to keep their thoughts straight when faced with such naked truths?

"Mm-mm," Kilien shook his head fervently, nudging his nose further into her hair in search of her ear where he could press a lasting kiss with another pleased rumble in his chest.

"Nope. Don't care about him." He cared about this. Them. Talking as freely as any couple might ... even if they weren't exactly a couple. Perhaps he'd have to change that. Maybe tonight, over dinner.

"Hey," amidst envisioning a romantic, candle-lit dinner the dream broke as he pictured Vi sighing despondently over her anti-magic cuffs. "What if... you didn't have to wear the cuffs?" Leaning back just enough to look her in the eye, Kilien lifted one of his hands to curl his fingers within her line of sight. Gold and brass rings glinted in the daylight coming through the windows.

Beyond his skill with college magic and a wand, Kilien was particularly gifted in the art of tutaminis: the absorbing, recycling, and implementation of mana from others. It wasn't a talent he lorded over his classmates, but most Initiates made an effort not to let him touch their skin. Not that it mattered much - Kilien usually played the role of punching bag instead of going on the offensive.

"What do you think?" He could take her mana, effectively locking her out of her abilities for a while. She'd recover it eventually, but they had no need for her powers here either way. This was a diplomatic mission, after all.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

It took her a moment to understand what he was offering, but the reminders began to string together as her eyes watched his rings glint in the light. She had always held a fascination of for them, and had once felt envy they were always attached to him. By the time Vittoria knew what his offer entailed, she drew back her gaze to look up at him.

"You would offer this kindness to me?" To save her from being identified as a shackled monster due to her inhumane magic. Vittoria liked the infamy the cuffs gave her in Vel Anir, the reproach many gave her once they saw her make such a show of presenting them. Because in Vel Anir, where magic reigned in vast measures, one could only assume how potent it could be without the nullification.

Elbion... already she felt the freshness in the air. How this city differed from home. Set into the sides of mountains, high up in places, Vittoria had a new city to explore and look over. She had wanted to spend that time and adventure with Kilien, and the shred of excitement she began to realise was because of him.

"I would feel more at ease... that is to say, I would not need to feel like a Dreadlord in the making if I had to wear them every day."

And yet, her brows furrowed deeply. The nullification cuffs worked, yes, but her instinct to unmake held a high potency. Over days, her mind would find the cracks between magic, and if there were none, Vittoria would find ways to shatter the integrity of a spell. It was why her entire life since the Revolution had been spent in weekly renewals of cuffs being bestowed upon her...

What would that mean for him? Would taking her mana mean taking an essence of the small erosion that was her magic? "Remind me. How will this work?" She would refuse if she had suspicion she would cause him harm.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

If he could give her a day removed from Dreadlord in the making, then he'd make every effort to do so. Vittoria did not know what it could feel like to be normal and he believed with every fiber of his being that she deserved to simply be a girl.

To enjoy herself.

"Ah, well," he curled his fingers and gently rubbed the pads together in thought. He'd never had to explain the process before and, frankly, he wasn't entirely sure he knew all the details. Theory was his repertoire, but it wasn't necessarily always complete or correct.

"So, your cuffs act as nullifiers, yeah? If your magic was your ability to buy something, the cuffs prevent you from reaching your money, your mana, while in place. You still have your money and can maybe figure out a way to work around the cuffs, or break them, to reach it."

"My ability acts like a pickpocket and removes your money entirely. So unless you know how to pickpocket others as well, you won't be able to buy anything until you've saved up enough money again over time. Make sense?"

It did not help his reputation that he was a convicted felon for various instances of robbery and theft. Kilien wasn't sure if she knew that but he wasn't about to bring it up.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria stood there, arms still wrapped around him as she thought on the offer her gave her. This mission was a friendly visit, a means of ensuring their charge arrived to elbion safely and returned back to Vel Anir without any harm. They were free to do what they wished in Elbion, and Vittoria wanted to spent all that time with Kilien. This was no call to arms as she often attended in Vel Anir.

"Kilien..." She started, frowning. "Have you... have you always been the answer I have needed?" Her eyes, unable to settle on being either blue or green, met his hazel gaze. She stared, for that was the unnerving thing about her steel. Vittoria could hold an unwavering stare, just as she did now when she spoke to Kilien.

"There are days I wish the cuffs could work, that I could be free for a little longer, to be at peace with myself and not feel as if I need to break something to sate my nature." For that was what she always knew about herself. She was an Unmaker, and it could not simply leave her be peaceful.

Vittoria tensed only a few seconds before nodding her head. "Do it. I will wear the cuffs should I not choose to wear sleeves that day... wear them for show to appease the orders for our visitation." And if they intended on seeing the College, she knew they would look to see if the cuffs were on and working.

Kilien was giving her a solution she never thought she would ever have.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Well, there were plenty of ways to skin a cat as they said, but some ways were more efficient and effective than others. Especially if the cat in question had some dark, dastardly powers and was able to regrow its skin all on it's own. Taking away those powers, even temporarily, definitely held an edge over other methods.

Kilien was happy to provide a means to peace for her, especially now when the chaos of her abilities only hindered her enjoyment. For once, he'd like to see her without that shadow looming over her shoulder.

"Alright," offered quietly over a sober smile. There was no fanfare or fancy gestures needed for this, so no effort was made to step away from her. "All I need..." Kilien mumbled as his free hand gently smoothed over her shoulder and crept beneath the lengths of her hair to the skin of her nape, "is a bit of skin."

His other arm snugged around her waist in preparation for the strong possibility that her legs might give out beneath her. "This will feel... strange."

It would feel a bit like frigid water slowly entering her metaphysical self, sapping away the warmth of her mana and draining it through his hand. For someone who'd never had their mana siphoned before it could be overwhelming - like the air being drained from their lungs or blood pulled from their veins. Kilien took care not to drain it too quickly, as he'd seen first hand how it could cause immediate blackout.

On his end, through his fingertips and hands, the surge of her mana was like a refreshing drink after a long stint going without.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria smoothed her arms to rest upon his chest, as if ready to push away from him but her fingers curled. Nails scraped against his coat, her eyes trained on him with slight apprehension. This was her first time trusting someone to do something for her. Something that would take away a portion of control from her.

He warned her it would feel strange, but to Vittoria, she felt vulnerable.

She gasped, more rasping that gentle breath, and her head fell forward to rest on his shoulder. Her nails dug in, as if to claw her way to remain there, to fight off this presence leeching her. Strange, strange. This did not feel strange.

It felt like anxiety. It felt as if she was losing a part of herself. "Kilien..." Scared and weak, for the first time in her life, Vittoria's voice wobbled. She sank into him, aware of everything happening to her and yet she felt powerless to do anything about it. She felt the weight and press of her daggers hidden in her flesh with concealment... until even that feeling was gone. Beyond a sensation of numbing.

The biggest loss was not feeling that raw power to break things readily at her fingertips. Vittoria's legs became loose, and she fell into his ready self.

"Kilien... this is wrong... this does not feel right." Her voice was different. This was not Vittoria speaking. This voice was uncertain, afraid, and it was holding back sobs. Vittoria began to shake, feeling no more strength inside her. The loss of magic... the abandonment she felt...

Dreadlords often suffered a gods complex, and Vittoria was no different. To have no magic, the very essence that gave her the moniker the Unmaker... to be made wholly human, mortal, felt like a death sentence.

As she trembled against Kilien, Vittoria believed she was about to die.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Holding her weight in his arm was hardly much of a strain for him on a normal day, but given the proximity to the full moon Kilien's strength and senses, speed and reflexes, were heightened beyond any normal human could hope to be. He could hear the quickening of her heart and smell the onset of anxiety.

The siphoning continued, slow and steady, as he took on the weight that gradually sank against him.

"I know," low words murmured into the side of her head with a nuzzle to reassure her and a kiss into her hair, "you can trust me."

Minutes ticked by as the last vestiges of mana filtered away through his fingertips until he could no longer feel a drop of ethereal warmth within her. The warmth that remained was that of a young woman, beautiful and intelligent and cunning and strong, but no longer capable of wielding terrible magic. Just a shaking leaf, afraid of the unknown.

For now.

He snaked his hand from her nape around her other shoulder, pulling her snugly against his chest and under his chin, "Just breathe. The feeling will fade. You're safe, miro tikno kalo čiriklo, hm? Listen to my heartbeat."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

She could not bear to show her face. To open her eyes and see the world as she was now. Powerless and entirely mortal. Vittoria Larrainth had been rendered ordinary, and it was a feeling unlike anything in the world she ever experienced. Her cheeks became wet, her eyes not working properly. It felt as if a flood she could not stop kept flowing from them, drowning her cheeks and soaking the woolen coat Kilien wore.

He was there. Still there with his arms wrapped around her. His voice soothed her, and Vittoria felt his kiss upon her hair. All of this still felt the same, her feelings that swelled only for him still rose as it did. Another tremble flowed through her, and she dragged her face to the side to place her ear at his chest. Kilien was warm, had always been so, and she could smell the earth and scent that he kept. All of this was the same, he remained the same.

Where was his heartbeat? Her own pounded too loud in her ears, veiling his beats. Her hand rose to touch his neck, to feel for his pulse and took solace in how steady it felt.

Safe. He was right. With his arms around her, that was how she felt. Her feet moved, helping to stand herself back up straight.

"It is too quiet." Vittoria whispered. Her body had tensed, again searching for any morsel of power that may be left.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Vittoria's hand at anyone else's neck was likely a death threat, but the affection he felt through the touch far outweighed her apprehension. Closing his eyes and smiling to himself, Kilien gently rocked her from side to side.

"Mm?" he was certain she spoke of her mind and the lack of whispering powers within. "Then we'll find some noise to drown it out," craning his neck to look down at her, his hand loosed from her shoulder to push her hair from her face.

"You have a dress to buy, remember?" his thumb smoothed the shed tears from her cheek and lifted to his lips where he bit the taste of salt away from the pad. Those were a rare delicacy. "What color are you going to wear to the event?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Her eyes stayed shut. Her long lashes clumped together from the tears she had not recognised, but could feel the damp lashes upon the top of her cheek.

Kilien was returning her trust and surety, slowly.

"A dress... any event I attend, I wear my House colours. Sea green and bronze." She was Vittoria Larrainth. The last true born Larrainth.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Sea green and bronze. Truly he found Vittoria lovely no matter what she wore, but she did look particularly striking in her house colors.

"That's gonna look real nice," he said against her temple, still rocking her gently, giving a short pause of silence as he pondered what he might find for himself. He couldn't possibly have her dress him to the nines in an outfit he'd likely ruin one way or another.

"I'll probably just wear black," Kilien finally whispered to her, "hope that's ok."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Finally, her cheeks twitched. Her lips stretched, and the smallest of smiles existed on her expression for a mere moment.

"I like you in black." She would not have him any other way.

Vittoria twisted into him, taking a deep breath to steady herself. When she exhaled, she felt more centered.

"I know I am safe..." She spoke aloud, forehead resting at his shoulder. "And yet I cannot help but think you have always had this ability... a wolf in sheep's clothing." Vittoria did not accuse him. She lifted her face, angled it upwards to meet his gaze. Some tears still clung about, tiny droplets at her bottom lashes and some trails still at the corners of her eyes. "How is it that I admire you so much more now?"

Perhaps it was her feelings becoming unbalanced, but Vittoria began to laugh. Her arms relaxed and wound around him again, still not ready to leave his warm and safe embrace.

"What was it... that you said in your mother tongue?" She liked hearing it, especially on his lips.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Well that was good because black was the standard event colors of choice for him. The less complicated the wardrobe, the better. Black went with everything and was ever-so-slimming. He smiled back at her, content with the approval.

Wolf in sheeps clothing.

This his browns pinched upward in a show of faint guilt for many more things than she knew. Tutaminis was a powerful skill and not easily picked up, but there were reasons he maintained it as a last-ditch-effort in his magical toolkit. Tutaminis had a high risk of addiction - draining the mana of others lead to a swelling of his own stores. While it did not necessarily increase his overall ability, it did increase the grade of what he could do. What he'd taken from her now could likely fuel him for a week if he used it in moderation.

But also ... the other initiates already had so many reasons to dislike him. They didn't really need another.

"Hm?" lost in thought for a moment, he had to recall just what he'd said, "I said you're safe, my little blackbird."

His hand returned to her face once more, ever so gingerly smoothing away the tiniest of tears clinging to her lower lashes, "Your hair has always reminded me of their feathers. Dark as obsidian."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Her brows came together in a furrow, softly, hesitantly.

"My father said I look very much like my mother, Alicia Pirian. The dark hair, the medium complexion..." But it was her eyes, the way she stood, and the way she thought, all inherited from the Larrainths. Vittoria could stand amongst the Pirians, a family she had not made an effort to become familiar with, and still stand out on her own. "He spoke about how my mother liked to leave her hair out, liked how it felt whenever she moved."

She felt safe. Safe enough to tell all of this to Kilien. She told all of this to King, of course, for he had been there alongside her when they grew up in the Academy.

Vittoria never truly met her mother, who had died while giving birth to her, but she did her best to live on memories that made her wonder what it would be like to have had her mother all along. She knew she wanted to introduce Kilien to her parents, perhaps she would introduce him to her aunt and uncle, the friends of her Father's, who had helped raised her whenever her father was called to duty.

"Obsidian... is used for protection, is it not?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Mmm," fondness settled deep into the lines of his expression as she spoke of her mother, "she sounds lovely."

And girls usually tended to look like their mothers, so he could only imagine the beauty that would have been her own. A pity that he'd never be able to meet her.

Her heart had slowed back to a calmer pace, but it didn't beat at the same intensity he'd come to know it by when she had magic at her beck and call. This was Vittoria learning what peace felt like.

"Mmhm," the gentle rocking motion had shifted from simply his upper body to his feet, and with her arms around his middle he'd silently snuck her into a slow little dance to the tune of her new quiet.

"It's a powerful talisman for spiritual protection against negativity, emotional healing, and grounding. Rovani seers usually wear it to enhance their divination. Helps clear the fog from their inner eye. Hm," he chuckled as he carefully played with a lock of her hair, "that's you..."

His own protection against negativity - the other initiates at the academy had long since stopped going out of their way to fuck with him now that they knew of his attachment to Larrainth. She had done so much for his confidence as well, and brought him into a more stable mindset of who he was as a person. In Vittoria's pride as an Anirian, he found a deeper pride as a Rovani.

Kilien knew better now than he had before what he wanted out of his life.

His eyes narrowed, turning to peer down at her suspiciously, "All except that mind fog part."

Thumb and forefinger curled around her chin, lifting her eyes to his own, "You muddle my mind, Miss Larrinth," and leaned in to give her a kiss, lingering there with his fingers trailing about her throat, "how are you feeling now?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

A devious smile turned her lips, and she turned her head to better catch the kiss he leaned down to give. Her heart fluttered as he pulled away only slightly to ask a question of her, and Vittoria hummed in a tone that voiced her annoyance he had broken the kiss so short.

"I am all right now, Killy." She assured. "I will need to... become accustomed to not having my magic. I feel unguarded. Perhaps a good thing I do have a blade in my pack..." A crutch, at the least. Her sharp aim was not made from magic, as she was trained to be a weapon without her magic.

"There is a hollow that I feel... but I am learning to accept it will shrink over time once my... mana returns to me." Kilien had told her so. It would return to her, slowly.

She looked at him, searching his eyes. "Shall we rest here for a few hours? Wander the city this afternoon and perhaps see if there are any shops with capable seamstresses?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"You can take mine if you want," he offered. As a rule of thumb, Kilien did not carry a knife on him to butcher people with like Vittoria liked to. His was more often than not used for peeling apples and whittling. As a matter of fact, he could not recall the last time he'd sunk it into the flesh of another.

When he needed a weapon, he grabbed for his wand. The dagger, much like tutaminis, was a last resort. But he did keep it sharp because it allowed him to get better detail in his little wooden carvings and figurines.

A nod given to her as she spoke of the hollow. He knew the feeling and she was right, it would abate over time as her mana slowly returned. It was difficult to say just how quickly she'd recover enough to feel like her normal self again, but he suspected it would be near a day.

"I could go for a nap..." lightly smacking his lips, Kilien glanced over at the bed with a nod as if agreeing with the notion of napping. He could always nap, but traveling made him particularly nappish. That settled it.

Arms ensnaring Vittoria, he leaned back to hoist her feet off the ground and turned on the spot until his back faced the bed, then began to toddle backward with her until he fell back onto the mattress and took her along with him.