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Post by Kelathi on Apr 2, 2019 22:00:56 GMT
Dappled sunlight leaking beneath her eyelids was what finally began to rouse her, although waking was slow. The first thing her semi-conscious mind did was assure her that there was no longer any pain in her arm, and therefore, no danger. As relief flooded through her, it was for this reason that she awoke feeling at ease. An ease that soon dissipated as she suddenly noticed that, strangely enough, she had fallen asleep propped up, and the ground beneath her was soft… Even so, her eyes fluttered a moment before opening, and she glanced about with lidded eyes as she took in everything she could see. The mouth of the cave, shielded by a curtain of green ivy, but no Cathal and no Ciaran.
No Ciaran because she was currently sat in his lap. And not for the first time…
She tensed slightly, and took the moment to listen, feeling the rise and fall of Ciaran’s chest. His heartbeat seemed calm, and by the steady movement she guessed he was sleeping. Well, that was good; she might have a second or two to figure out what on Earth she was going to say to him. Slowly, she tried to manoeuvre herself, slipping gently out of his grip. She paused as she realised that even in his sleep, he had been gripping the hilt of a sword. After noticing this, she began to move even slower, the last thing she wanted was for him to wake suddenly and accidentally swing his weapon at her. Finally, she was away, and she stood up. Then, she began to pace.
What was she going to do?
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 3, 2019 0:35:03 GMT
Rhea’s attempts to move away from Ciaran disturbed him a little, softly moaning in his sleep. It wasn’t more than a few moments after she had escaped his embrace and had begun pacing that he woke, sounding groggy as he came to. Her concerns regarding the weapon were validated as his grip immediately tightened on the hilt as he woke, immediately looking about to work out what the situation was.
Rhea, pacing rather than sleeping in his arms.
As his gaze refocused on her, Ciaran immediately stood, ignoring the wince of pain from the rush to stand, his chest still stiff and sore. His focus was easy enough to understand, given how he immediately reached out for Rhea’s shoulder to stop her pacing, his concern for her only. “Are you alright? What happened last night?” he asked, still too groggy to realize just how visible his worry was, or how tactile he was being, usually hiding such feelings behind a mask of disinterest and distance.
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 4, 2019 19:52:07 GMT
Wrapped up in her thoughts, she only noticed that Ciaran had roused when he placed a hand on her shoulder, which showed how unlike herself she was acting to not have even heard him rise. Her immediate reaction had been to whip around, simultaneously pulling away, eyes wide at the unsolicited contact. Her posture relaxed somewhat as she composed herself, yet still the tension had yet to melt from her limbs. Instead of answering, she turned away from him, heading to their supply corner determinedly. Grabbing her satchel, she whipped out the tiara. Some of the dappled sunlight glinted off the diamonds, sending a prism of colour onto the cave wall. Approaching him, it was her turn to reach for him, taking his wrist and pushing the tiara into his hand. “Take it.” Her voice was firm, unwavering, as she fought to explain herself. “I’m sorry for not giving it to you sooner. I thought I needed it, I thought I had no choice…”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 4, 2019 20:04:29 GMT
Rhea’s jolt back from him helped wake him up, his expression beginning to mask itself again as she went to the bags, only confusing him. She wasn’t answering his question, but her movements indicated that she was alright… for now. The memory of waking up to her cries of pain still bothered him, and he didn’t like not knowing what was going on. Especially not if it was causing her pain…
To Ciaran’s total shock, instead of pulling out food or bandages, she pulled out the tiara. A part of him was triumphant in knowing she had the damn thing the whole time, but he was ignoring that for now. She grabbed his hand, forcing him to take the tiara, which shimmered in the light of the cave like it was on fire itself, scattering rainbows across the cave walls. And then she was apologizing for not giving it to him sooner, explaining a need that she hadn’t explained before… and still not answering his question.
It was fortunate that his aim was off, since the tiara suddenly struck the pile of bags rather than smashing into the rock wall.
Instead of accepting the tiara, of being freed from having to travel with the thieving witch as he had complained so bitterly about before… his brow had creased in frustration, and he had hurled the object without aiming, half turning on Rhea with a look of anger, teeth gritted. But that wasn’t what his words suggested, since he didn’t even mention the precious item that she had finally surrendered, that had caused them to travel for so long already.
“What. Happened. Last. Night.”
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 4, 2019 20:34:35 GMT
For a moment, Rhea was at a complete loss. Her immediate response was to merely blink, ivy-green eyes wide and expression uncomprehending. Her gaze flickered over to the tiara, lying discarded like a broken toy, before she met his eye again. The dark look there gave her further reason for pause, so it was a moment more before she found herself able to find her voice. “I… Ciaran… I’m…” She was suddenly afraid of what he would do. He looked so angry, had she completely misjudged by giving him the tiara? Had that been the only thing keeping him from leaving, after all? She had thought if she gave it up, it might soften things a little, even help him along in agreeing to help her. It was not that she hadn’t expected him to be angry to find out he’d been duped, of course, but discarding the tiara that way, when it had meant so much to him… he looked pretty much at tipping point. She admonished herself silently. Men were unpredictable, how had she let him make her forget that? Every time she thought she had them figured out they always managed to blindside her.
Well, either way, he had discarded the tiara, and now he was waiting for an explanation. When she spoke, she sounded completely spent.
“I’m cursed, Ciaran.” She finally uttered, quietly. As if to illustrate the point, she pushed up the sleeve of her left arm, to reveal… a mark on her wrist that looked as if it had been burned into her skin. A crescent moon, which even to the non-gifted, seemed to hum with magical energy. She avoided his eye as she continued. “I’m indebted to a witch. A…” Her eyes flickered to his then, narrowing slightly as she added, “A real one. I had to steal from the king that which was most precious to him. I thought the tiara…” She trailed off, looking away again. He had yet to make a move and she was warily waiting for his response. “Well, I was wrong. She's been making that fact known to me every evening."
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 4, 2019 20:51:08 GMT
Ciaran’s anger finally elicited a response from Rhea, obviously shocked at his reaction. He was a little shocked himself, unused to such shows of anger. But his concern was driving him crazy, with the memories it kept trying to dredge back up, and her not actually giving him an answer… he couldn’t take it.
His expression softened into one of slightly different concern as she explained the curse, looking at the brand on her wrist as she pointed it out. He also began to look confused, one eyebrow arching. “When did this happen?” he asked, and before she could respond, he went on. “You’ve seemed fine since the festival, and the town, and… that night.” Ciaran’s steeled expression faltered at recalling their night together, his own eyes finally dropping from her with an uncomfortable shift, a momentary blush before he managed to school his expression again.
Curiously enough, as clear as he had made his dislike and distrust of magic known… he made no indication of wanting to abandon her to the curse. He didn’t even take a step back, knowing she was branded. Instead, he wanted to know more.
“And, if it's not the tiara, then what is it that you’re supposed to bring this... witch?”
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 4, 2019 21:36:59 GMT
Did he… blush… at mention of their night together? His reaction threw her a little, distracting her for a moment despite the severity of the situation. She soon came back to it though, his questions needing answers. His response so far though had seemed to settle her somewhat. He had calmed down a little, and he hadn’t left… yet. “She came to see me when…” She was a little hesitant to remind him of how much trouble she had been thus far, but there was no point in backing out of the explanation now. “… When I escaped from the fort. I was already indebted to her, but that’s when she told me I had the wrong item, and added the helping hand of the pain. Or the ‘encouragement’, I suppose. I’ve been able to deal with it until last night.” She didn’t want to think on that, as if merely doing so might cause it to happen again. “She said it would get worse every evening until I completed my task.” She pulled the sleeve down, covering the symbol from sight, and crossed her arms.
“As for what I’m supposed to steal… I don’t know what it is. And I don’t know how I’m going to get back into the castle, I don’t even know how I managed it last time…” her voice was rising as she spoke, the frustration finally mounting enough to be heard in her tone.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 5, 2019 2:16:01 GMT
Ciaran’s expression stilled again as she explained what little she could, becoming unreadable even as her frustration began to leak through her words. He was quiet for several long moments, as if considering her situation. Again, he had caught something that bothered him on a deep level, one that would only affect him if he had been genuine in his feelings for her.
“So… when you’ve been putting your energy into healing me, and staying with us… you’ve been dealing with… that.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement, spoken as stiffly as he looked. His eyes fell from Rhea again, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh of his own, although it was because she had possibly suffered in part because she’d had to stop to help him. It was hard to take. But it did do one thing.
Narisse would never have let anything get between her and her own interests. Rhea’s self-sacrifice in that distanced the two considerably.
Ciaran’s eyes landed on the tiara again, glinting delicately from its perch on the bags, mocking his dedication to retrieving it, a dedication that led to this complicated mess. His eyes lingered on it even as he spoke again, his voice quiet, hurt with the belief that the answer to his question would be no.
“Is there even anything I can do to help?”
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 10, 2019 9:47:40 GMT
“You were hurt.” She merely responded, to his first statement. Even to her own ears, it sounded a poor reason. Why would she help the man that was imprisoning her, at the expense of herself? She knew it didn’t make sense, but it had seemed right to do so. The truth was, for some reason, she didn’t want Ciaran to be hurt, and she couldn’t stand the idea of leaving him that way, especially as he had quite obviously taken the arrow for her.
And now he had offered his help. This was what she had wanted, right? He was basically handing it over on a platter. And yet, now it had come to the moment for her to accept it, why did she suddenly feel… bad, about this?
To her own surprise, she realised why.
She felt guilty.
After everything she had put him through, stealing the chain of office, not handing over the tiara, escaping, using magic against him, the arguments and her stubbornness… he still wanted to help her? And to think that she had hoped to bribe or trick him into doing so, by withholding the tiara or pretending that she felt things for him that she didn’t. He had the tiara now, and he had pushed away her attempts at getting closer. Still, he was willing to selflessly help without any of those tricks. This… didn’t make sense. It went against everything she had learnt to understand about men.
“I… don’t understand. Why would you want to help me without taking the tiara? After all the trouble I’ve caused you?”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 10, 2019 20:14:33 GMT
Instead of giving him the answer he expected, Rhea asked new questions. Questions that he didn’t have an answer to. The surprise of what she was asking him lit in his eyes, earning an unexpected response. Ciaran shifted a little uncomfortably, arms folding across his chest in an almost defensive posture even as his gaze fell, unable to even attempt to look her in the eye.
Her questions had made him self conscious, suddenly and starkly aware of how open he was being. “I…” he finally started, but stopped again, swallowing hard, unable to find words to even start explaining what he wasn’t even sure of himself.
“Rhea! I’m glad to see you’re up.”
Cathal’s voice broke the silence between the two humans warmly, padding into the cave with a smile on his face at seeing Rhea up and about. As their attention moved to the tiger, Ciaran was able to straighten and pull away, walking over to the bags to grab his tunic, still torn and bloodied but at least dry.
“Are you feeling better? What happened last night?” Cathal went on, keeping his attention on Rhea - and keeping hers more on him. Ciaran knew better than to think his timing was lucky; the tiger had probably heard them talking, and waited outside to let them hash things out. And he had probably heard the strain in Ciaran’s voice earlier at Rhea’s questions, which was why he was putting his attention into Rhea now, letting Ciaran have the breathing room he needed.
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 10, 2019 20:55:14 GMT
Ciaran was about to get more breathing room than he had probably anticipated.
As Cathal entered, Rhea turned her attention towards him, a distracted half-smile a response to his concerned tone. As he asked what happened, she felt suddenly overwhelmed, and found herself shaking her head and avoiding his eye, still trying to process the strange response she had just gained from Ciaran. She didn’t want to have to go through it all again, admitting her weakness to yet another, explaining that she was indebted to a witch… It had been difficult enough the first time; the possibility of seeing pity on Cathal’s face was just too much. She began to back towards the cave mouth, her expression pained as emotions flitted across her face.
“I’m sorry… I… Ciaran will explain it. I need some fresh air.” As she spoke she turned, but before she left she threw over her shoulder, “I won’t go far.” Before sweeping aside the curtain of ivy and swiftly disappearing outside.
***
As promised, she didn’t go far, just enough to be out of hearing distance of the cave. She paused, crossing her arms in front of herself and staring out into space as she fought to control her breathing, which had quickened with her pounding heart. She kept going over what she had said, and how Ciaran had responded. Before they had been interrupted… Ciaran had looked as if he were about say something important, stiffening and taking on a defensive posture.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 12, 2019 17:04:02 GMT
Cathal’s expression was one of genuine concern as Rhea suddenly tensed, suffering from a different sort of pain than from the night before. He turned to watch her leave, ears laid back as he considered following her, but decided to let her have the space she needed. He didn’t know her well enough yet to know when she needed the space, or needed a presence.
Ciaran had also paused as Rhea rushed out, sighing roughly as he slid down to the floor of the cave, back supported by the wall as he leaned his head back, eyes closing. He remained like this even as Cathal settled down next to him, waiting for his cub to speak first.
“How much?” Ciaran finally asked, Cathal’s ears flicking forward again. “From the tiara,” he replied, a touch of amusement underlining his words. He had, of course, noticed how it had been on the other side of the cave from the humans, and that Ciaran’s voice had been angered at being offered the tiara rather than having his concern addressed. The assassin’s sigh was in lieu of a nod, keeping his eyes closed even as he brought his head back up from the wall, his breath slow in an attempt to steady it. Rather than prompt him, Cathal waited, feeling the tension rolling off of Ciaran in waves.
“I can’t…” he began, swallowing hard before trying to continue. “I can’t do it again… and I can’t ask her to… to…” Uncharacteristically, Ciaran drew his legs in at the thought, folding his arms against them and burying his face, as if that could block the memories and his feelings. Cathal nuzzled into his side, offering his silent support, wishing he knew more about what in Ciaran’s past had driven him so far from others, wishing he knew if he could do something to help.
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 14, 2019 19:14:32 GMT
She stood there a few more moments, listening to the susurration of the grass as a slight wind picked up. Chilled by its presence, she began to walk, making her way slowly through the undergrowth, her footsteps light. She still did not intend to go far, but she thought it a good idea to give Ciaran and Cathal space. Besides, she wasn’t eager so to get back to the cave yet afterwards their conversation.
As she walked, she tried to steer her thoughts clear from that which plagued her, but it was difficult. She kept going back to when she had confronted Ciaran, when his face had blanched at the prospect of having to explain his reasons. He had looked so… lost. And panicked. Amongst other actions, such as taking the arrow for her, it gave credence to what Cathal had claimed of the assassin,- that he cared for her. Even if she found it difficult to understand, it would be foolish of her to keep denying the idea when all of the evidence pointed to the contrary. Of course, she had some kind of idea what he might have been about to say, but why did it cause him such difficulty to admit?
Rhea thought back. Cathal had said that when Ciaran saved him from the hunters, he had tried everything to drive him away or lose him afterwards, and this was exactly what Ciaran had been doing to her all this time. Right from the very beginning he had tried to keep her at arms length, starting with intending only to hand over the tiara rather than her as well.
Something had happened to Ciaran to make him want to push away others.
Rhea could understand not trusting people. Like him, she’d only afforded this trust to one, for her that person was Minerva. But Rhea had her own reasons for her reluctance to make a connection with someone. What were his?
She paused suddenly, her body reacting before she became consciously aware of what had caused her to stop. Then her mind caught up, and she heard the noise again. The unmistakeable sound of footsteps.
***
She only began to run when she was sure she was out of earshot of the band of hunters, only just realising how far she had actually strayed from the cave now that she was finding her way back. It was not for her own sake that she was worried, but Cathal’s. Being close enough to hear a snippet of conversation, it had become clear that they had found clues as to Cathal’s presence, whether this be a paw print or a tuft of fur caught on a branch. If they were trackers worth their salt, it would not be long for them to come across the cave.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 14, 2019 21:22:54 GMT
Rhea’s wandering ironically provided the space and time Ciaran needed to recover, finally managing to bottle his emotions and reaction enough to move. Cathal noticed how, yet again, he chose to simply ignore his emotions and move on as if he had none, but said nothing.
Ciaran’s hand had lingered on the tiara, studying it silently before stuffing it into a bag, not even sure if it was his bag or Rhea’s as he began gathering their belongings together. Either way, at the moment simply having one short term goal was all that kept him from running off himself. Working with the horses to prepare them to leave, knowing they probably had spent too long in their cave as it was with people actively seeking Rhea, Ciaran was methodical but quick, traits he picked up from his military and cavalry years. It didn’t take long to have the horses ready to go, only bringing out the last few bags as Rhea raced up to them.
Simply seeing her approach made Ciaran’s step falter a little, his gaze dropping from her a moment after seeing her, continuing to lay out the bags across the saddles with a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. Cathal once more intervened on his behalf, rising from his perch outside the cave mouth to greet her. “Rhea, what is it?” he asked, wary concern in his voice at seeing her expression as she approached. Perhaps Ciaran was right, and the bandits that had attacked them before were close behind again?
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 14, 2019 22:28:47 GMT
Upon seeing Ciaran already setting the horses up to leave, Rhea slowed as she approached, faltering as much as he had in response to her presence. At Cathal’s question, he commanded her immediate intention, and she shifted her gaze to him instead. “Hunters, heading this way. I was going to say we should leave, but it looks like we already are.” Glancing back at Ciaran, who appeared to be avoiding her gaze, Rhea looked back towards Cathal questioningly, a half-smile on her face. “Were you going to wait for me before leaving, or have I awkwardly come back too soon?” It was intended as a joke, but there was certainly an edge to it, a touch of strain to her voice that suggested she was genuinely concerned that they had decided to pack up and leave without her.
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