Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 4, 2019 1:05:37 GMT
Ciaran inwardly sighed a little at Rhea’s touch, certain she was trying to bring up his injury again. As persistent as Cathal, she was. He didn’t want her to go so far out of her way as she had before, still uneasy with the thought of anyone playing nursemaid with him… but as he turned she offered her hands, his expression shifting from mask to surprise. Then…
As he realized what he had missed, the faintest tinge of pink touched on his cheeks, swallowing to control his response. “R-right, yeah,” he managed almost evenly, pulling out his dagger quickly to cut through the ropes. With the sharp edge he kept on it, in spite of what it had recently cut through, the dagger made short work of the rope, and was returned promptly as Ciaran finished unwrapping the rope, quickly checking her wrists before awkwardly letting her hands go. “Sorry,” he mumbled, once more heading up the hill with purpose, perhaps even more than before.
Cathal simply watched with amusement, pretending to focus on grooming his paws.
Rhea was glad to see the look of embarrassment that came over Ciaran, his cheeks colouring just a touch as he realised what he had forgotten. It was at such odds to what she had just witnessed- the coldness, the indifference and worst of all, the sneer… that to see him seem to return to himself was comforting. Ciaran held two opposing sides inside himself, as different as the two faces of a coin, and she’d never been more aware of it as she was now. As he cut her free of the ropes, she wondered if she’d ever learn why this was the case. The man that gently checked her wrists to make sure she wasn’t harmed was a far cry from the man who’d taken down the bandit so mercilessly moments ago.
***
Rhea had been evidently delighted to see Cathal, showing no hesitation in throwing her arms around his neck to embrace him, even with the blood still fresh on his maw. The unspoken gratitude was clear in her actions, and it was easier for her to express it to the tiger than it was to Ciaran, who would be sure to brush any thanks off, and who certainly would not accept such a candid display of affection. There was a little stiffness between the two humans, probably due to a great number of reasons. Whilst she could not guess on Ciaran's reasons for the awkwardness between them, Rhea was certain of her own. On the one hand, she was embarrassed to have found herself needing to be rescued, and not for the first time. On the other hand, she had experienced a side to Ciaran that was unnerving, and she wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject as to what had passed, or if she should at all. She did, however, get her chance eventually to pass more than two words between them.
Afterwards putting what Ciaran deemed sufficient distance between themselves and what had happened, they had stopped for a short rest and to recuperate. For some unfathomable reason, Ciaran seemed to think that Rhea needed seeing to first, despite the fact that he was the one with blood pouring out from his arm… “But I’m fine!” Rhea argued irritatingly. “Will you at least let me look at your arm, before it drops off?” she asked, curtly. Despite her heady tumble down the hill, she knew she was feeling pretty peachy in comparison to what might had happened had Ciaran not arrived. Other than a shallow cut on her temple, which she wasn't even aware of, she was perfectly fine, the few bumps and scrapes hardly calling for medical attention.
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 21, 2019 3:46:58 GMT
Cathal had greeted Rhea warmly, a paw rising to embrace her in return. Once more he became the buffer between the two humans, their unique situation being all that kept him from the occasional sigh that would otherwise let them know his true feelings about their inability to speak to one another.
For Ciaran’s part, his stiffness with Rhea came from many sources… his blindness to her bonds, his savage handling of the bandit leader… the twisted feeling in his gut at the sight of Rhea in danger. It wasn’t that dissimilar from the feeling he’d get with the last woman he had fallen for, who was almost as good at getting into trouble as Rhea. All of these he pushed aside, trying to regain his mask of indifference, but failing miserably as he finally could’t take looking at Rhea’s injuries anymore, small as they might have been.
‘Pouring out of his arm’ was most certainly hyperbole, as evidenced by his raised eyebrow at her insistence of seeing his arm before it could ‘drop off.’ “I didn’t go tumbling down a hillside,” he responded, almost curt himself, cloth in hand from several attempts to wipe away some of the blood from her temple. Her stubborn refusal to let herself be looked at first seemed to indicate she was fine. He’d have been more worried if she had just let him do as he wanted, but it wasn’t any less aggravating. Sighing irritably at Rhea’s inevitable comeback, he looked over at Cathal, who had been watching with some strange look of amusement. But, as he had every time either human had turned to him to help argue their case, he suddenly looked elsewhere, as if oblivious to their insistent glances.
Cathal immediately caught Ciaran’s look, and suddenly became fascinated by a bird chirping in the trees off to his left, ears flicked towards the sound. It was the other side of Cathal’s mouth that couldn’t resist twitching into a smile at the annoyed sigh this caused, Ciaran once more turning his attention to the ever argumentative thief.
“Exactly!” Rhea announced triumphantly, capitalising on Ciaran’s own words. “I took a short trip down a hill, you got stabbed at with a sword. Which one sounds more important to you?” She, too, on occasion had found herself glancing over in Cathal’s direction for moral support, but just like Ciaran, had found that the tiger was much happier to let the two sort things out themselves. With a sigh of exasperation, she finally threw up her arms. “Fine! You can dab that cloth at my head, or whatever it is you want to do… but only if you’ll let me see to your arm. It’ll be easier than if you try to fix it yourself, I have two good working arms, and you know it makes sense.” It was a small compromise, but a compromise nonetheless, and with Ciaran’s insistence of leaving his own injuries until he’s practically on death’s door there seemed to be no guarantee that he’d agree to her terms. It hadn’t escaped Rhea’s notice that Ciaran greatly disliked having to be looked after, even when he was in dire need of said help. She wasn’t sure if it was a trait borne from stubbornness, or if there was some deeper reason behind it. She could understand not wanting to receive help, she herself hated to be perceived as a victim, but even so, Ciaran seemed to take the idea to extremes.
She seated herself abruptly on the mossy ground, crossing her legs and gathering the bandages into her lap, and patted the ground in front of her. "Sit." She ordered, but upon seeing the look on Ciaran's face, added, "Please sit. The sooner you sit, the sooner this is over with."
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 27, 2019 2:27:51 GMT
Ciaran’s eyebrow shot up at Rhea’s triumphant response, rolling his eyes at her description. “I wasn’t stabbed,” he muttered, completely ignored by the thief as she grew even more theatrical with her argument. He stared at her, long and hard after her offer of a compromise, jaw grimly set as she patted the ground before her.
Evidently, he did not see many options aside from her offer, as with a resigned sigh that he didn’t try to cover for once, he sat down where Rhea had indicated, injured arm facing her. The resignation he showed was familiar to the tiger as he watched them, and was likely to become familiar to Rhea should she stay with him long enough. Cloth now held lightly in his grip, almost uselessly, he waited surprisingly patiently for Rhea to do as she wanted, watching her movements out of the corner of his eye.
Even just seeing the pile of bandages in Rhea’s lap made his heart ache, all too familiar to her. Her, and her plays at being a nurse, gushing over small acts as if great heroic deeds, teasing and loving in her touch as she’d tighten the bandages… Rhea was just as insistent about playing nurse, if not even more so. Narisse would never have put up with Ciaran’s resistance. Rhea seemed to welcome the challenge.
Rhea tried (although admittedly, not too hard) to keep the victorious look from her face as Ciaran settled down before her. That look, however, soon disappeared as she found that it wouldn’t be possible to just roll up his sleeve to access the wound. After a moment of trying, and realising that she couldn’t reveal the wound as the cloth just got tighter as she rolled it up, she sat back a little and looked at him sheepishly. “Okay so… that’s not working. Would you…” she paused, pre-empting the man’s reluctance, and aware that she had been fortunate to even get him this far. “I can’t access your wound.” She explained. “Could you… er, maybe lose the tunic?” she felt her cheeks colouring as she made the suggestion, her traitorous mind skipping back to the time she had helped him get rid of said tunic.
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 27, 2019 22:13:02 GMT
Rhea’s struggles with his sleeves finally began to overcome Ciaran’s memories, his gaze landing openly on her hands as she gave up, eyebrow rising as she began to ask for help.
It took a few moments to understand what she was asking, the realization coming just before she finished speaking. Ciaran stilled rather than hesitated, still watching Rhea with his eyebrow raised almost as if in suspicion, but with a deep breath in, he let out a soft sigh, dropped the cloth in his hand, and undid his belt.
Rather than simply taking off the tunic, able to see how much difficulty she was having with the sleeves, Ciaran pulled both tunic and shirt off in one fell pull, preferring to skip past her having to ask him to remove any other garments. Wadding the clothes before tossing them on the ground beside them, he settled back into his original posture, his injured arm braced to support his body, the distinctive tattoo sharply visible against his forearm, already touched by the blood slowly making its way down his arm.
Rhea looked clearly surprised to find that Ciaran, rather than withdrawing or stubbornly pulling away, actually did as asked, pulling off his tunic. And… his shirt at the same time.
Rhea blinked, mind going completely blank for a moment as she unabashedly stared at Ciaran’s suddenly bare chest. She recovered quickly, however, busying herself with readjusting the bandages in her lap, before swiftly whipping the damp cloth from Ciaran. “Thank you.” She announced cheerily, back to her confident state, only the slight blush that had yet to fade on her cheeks betraying her awkwardness with the situation. She began to clean his wound busily, turning gradually more serious as she really began to look at it, noting how deep the sword had cut. How was it he always managed to get hurt around her? He was right, she thought begrudgingly, when he had said that she was a magnet for trouble. And it seemed she was particularly skilled in dragging him through it too, a realisation that sent a pang of guilt shooting through her gut. In her attempt to smother it, she turned her attention to other things, gaze flitting to his tattoo, and not for the first time. Wound clean, it was now time to bandage his arm. As she set down the bloodied cloth, she questioned, “What’s this mean, anyway?” her finger running softly over the ink-work on his forearm as she spoke.
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 30, 2019 3:40:54 GMT
Ciaran wasn’t sure what to make of Rhea’s initial pause, as her expression was blank before she focused on the bandages. He also wasn’t sure what to make of the red dusting on her cheeks, so instead he thought about how many new scars he had acquired since he met her. A magnet for trouble… or a jinx.
It was easier to focus on the struggles with Rhea than it was to let his mind wander too much onto her bandaging his arm. She managed to shake him out of listing things by running her finger against his arm, his gaze quickly snapping to her hand and so the marking she indicated.
Her question was more complicated than she realized. Ciaran let his gaze move away again, considering how he might pull away from the topic of it. Not that she’d probably believe him even if he did tell the truth… “It’s army,” he replied simply, truthfully enough, and briskly enough to dissuade further questions.
As always, Ciaran was quick to push away any conversation that revolved around himself, so although he had answered her, he clearly had no intention to elaborate. Rhea lapsed again into silence, and without the distraction of a conversation, she found her thoughts circling more easily back to how Ciaran had yet again found himself getting hurt because of her. She paused for a moment, looking down at the bandages in her lap blankly before finally grabbing them, the conflict clear on her face even as she tried to battle the intrusive thoughts…
If it hadn’t been for her, Ciaran would be fine now. He’d been injured twice now trying to save her, and once it had almost killed him. And it wasn’t just him she was putting in danger… In the throes of anger, she had accused Ciaran of placing a mark on Cathal simply by being near him, but it was becoming increasingly clear that she was doing the same. The great beast had been unharmed by his skirmish with the bandits, but what if it hadn’t turned out that way? What if he’d been killed? What if Ciaran had been killed? What if…
She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tirade of emotion that had suddenly overcome her, guilt and misery churning in her gut. She bound Ciaran’s arm with practiced hands, but had found they had begun to tremble slightly. It was barely perceptible, but it was frustrating and embarrassing at the same time. Damn it all… how was it that Ciaran could hide his emotions so well, and yet here she was, just moments away from breaking and spilling her guts? What she really wanted to do was flee, just for a few minutes, to recollect her thoughts. Stew in her emotions for a while until she calmed down, and could more easily push away the guilt. But how could she just up and leave whilst binding him? Hopefully he wouldn't notice that something was the matter, or at least wouldn't mention it, and she could casually walk away without raising suspicion, or god forbid, concern, once she was done.
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 1, 2019 2:07:26 GMT
As Rhea settled into silence, Ciaran again returned to focusing on the difficulties he had had with Rhea, but as she continued working on his arm, he couldn’t help but also think of how she had bandaged him before. Insisting on healing him, on stopping and taking care of him as soon as it was revealed he was hurt. Sure, she might be a jinx, but she was a considerate one who tried to make up for imaginary lack.
With his thoughts about her softening, his gaze finally moved back to her, just in time to catch her biting her lip. For a moment, he felt a lump in his throat, recognizing the gesture. Then he realized it wasn’t for the same reasons Narisse would use it, and the knot untied. Her hands seemed to shake a little, or was that his imagination? Was not getting a fuller answer really bothering her that much? Ciaran considered for a moment to tell her the truth, one he hadn’t yet made to even Cathal… but again the question of her believing him came to mind, and he decided to go down a different track.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, managing to sound casual, as if he didn’t already have a strong suspicion of what was was the matter with her.
She was just tying the knot on the bandage to keep it in place when, inevitably, he’d gone and asked her what was wrong.
Hands dropping from her work, she covered her face suddenly, and for a moment, didn’t speak. She merely exhaled, trying to compose herself and push away the prick of tears at her eyes. It soon became clear that this was the calm before the storm. Whilst she managed to stop the floodgates from opening, when she finally removed her hands, she still poured forth with an onslaught of emotion.
“I’m sorry! You keep getting hurt because of me! You were right, I am a jinx! I keep putting you and Cathal in danger! I should have just given you the tiara in the first place, and then none of this would have happened! First, you get shot by an arrow and nearly die and this time you almost get decapitated by a sword! I should have…” The words were spoken in one, ceaseless breath, one after another, like a runaway train on a broken track. Her unhappy gaze flitted to his and away again as she ranted her frustration and regret, listing all the ways in which she’d been a burden in an uncharacteristic show of self-doubt.
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 1, 2019 19:30:55 GMT
Ciaran’s expression, for once, was open as Rhea suddenly clasped her hands to her face, taking moments to compose herself, only to let out a flood of emotion, on the verge of tears His surprise was obvious, eyes wide even as she began to list some of the same things he had been letting his mind focus on to keep away thoughts of Narisse.
For a moment, he considered interjecting - he was certainly nowhere near being decapitated - but instead found an urge to simply get her to stop, as interjecting or interrupting never seemed to slow her down, no matter what emotion was driving her on. Normally, he didn’t mind as much as he’d complain about, but even as her gaze found it difficult to meet his, he found a very simple, effective way to get her to settle.
His hand rose quickly to press his fingers against her lips, immediately shushing her as well as finally settling her gaze on his in surprise. Ciaran had already taken a steadying breath as he had reached for her, and so was able to calmly speak.
“Stop. You are not responsible for what happens to me, and it is never your fault.”
Feeling that she had settled, if only a little, Ciaran finally withdrew his hand, even if his gaze did drop to linger on her lips where his touch had just been, unsure what else to do. It seemed she was done with whatever nursing she wanted to do, and he still wanted to check on the abrasion on her forehead…
Ciaran’s attempt to quieten Rhea was immediately effective, the thief halting mid-sentence at his touch. Her gaze shot to his, her ivy-green eyes wide with surprise at the unconventional means of an interruption. She barely heard the words that followed because she suddenly felt dizzy, and as Ciaran’s gaze lingered on her lips, a flutter in her stomach made it clear as to why. Again, Rhea wasn’t thinking ahead, she was just feeling, and that was why she found herself leaning in for a kiss. It was rushed and clumsy, planting her lips firmly against his in a fit of passion, eyes closed tightly as she did so. Just like the first time, no sooner had she considered the action that she was following through with it, overcome with and finally releasing all the pent-up emotion she'd been harbouring.
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 2, 2019 4:41:50 GMT
Leaning in hadn’t been his intention, but as Rhea drew closer Ciaran found himself moving to meet her, doing precisely what she was doing: acting before thinking.
It might have lasted longer than it did, had Ciaran not pulled out of it after several long, passionate moments, eyes closed as he shook his head a little. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he murmured, almost muttered, and for a moment it seemed he was referring to the kiss as a mistake. It made sense, in a way; bounty and hunter, an unusual mix to say the least. But the next words he managed to say were surprising for a number of reasons; openly shared rather than dragged out of him, and utterly countering the idea that he viewed the kiss as a mistake.
“I’ve… been with one woman,” he admitted slowly, softly, almost hesitantly, finding it difficult to meet Rhea's gaze, but revealing so much more than he usually did.
zahz: Never mind its back. It was showing ni posts for a bit.
Mar 30, 2020 9:10:00 GMT
Red Irish Dragon: I'm so sorry to hear about the work - I hope you've been able to stay safe and healthy!
Apr 3, 2020 22:17:34 GMT
zahz: yeah no crud here just bordom. might take up care giving.
Apr 12, 2020 5:59:06 GMT
zahz: how are ya'all holing up?
May 28, 2020 23:54:17 GMT
Kelathi: heyyy still alive! How you doing?
Jun 3, 2020 22:22:19 GMT
Red Irish Dragon: I'm totally a ghost who's haunting this forum...
Jun 4, 2020 4:47:27 GMT
zahz: been lurking through my self waiting for a reply. work is back online and my coworker filed their two weeks and didnt show up for the first one, after pesteringme for the schedule from that weeks burner phone. so doubling up on the workload
Jun 7, 2020 1:46:01 GMT
Kelathi: Sorry ive been bad with replying! D: hope you are keeping safe Zahz!
Jun 9, 2020 21:45:36 GMT
Red Irish Dragon: Same on the replying - finally getting some time to reply
Jul 23, 2020 5:28:28 GMT
zahz: Im highly introverted aside from nick my parets and my fried next door whose basicly been stuck at home since november i dont regularly see many people.
Aug 2, 2020 1:25:55 GMT
zahz: one in a blue moo ill see members of my boss's family who also do work for the fellow that owns the clinics i clean, as they do work for him. also the masks seem to help reduce allergy symptoms and reduce how much certain household cleaners make me cough.
Aug 2, 2020 1:32:21 GMT
Red Irish Dragon: Well that's one benefit of a mask!
Sept 24, 2020 3:33:24 GMT
Miru: Everyone still alive during all this craziness? Doing well? I hope all of you are.
Jul 25, 2021 4:50:25 GMT
Red Irish Dragon: Ish? XD Good to hear from you
Aug 15, 2021 19:59:08 GMT
zahz: Still waking up this side of dirt
Nov 6, 2021 8:29:39 GMT
Miru: It's always nice to see some old friends doing well. I hope that continues now and into the future as well.
May 24, 2022 5:25:16 GMT
Red Irish Dragon: Hi all! Crazy hectic time IRL with a move and all, but I'm hoping to really dig back into the creative stuff again
Jul 22, 2022 18:29:30 GMT
Kelathi: New year new banner
Mar 9, 2024 20:32:12 GMT