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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| The Beauty and the Beast; for Bael | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 5 2009, 12:06 AM (85 Views) | |
| Freya LaShale | Jul 5 2009, 12:06 AM Post #1 |
Love Thief
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A week and a half had passed, and while in Razi's presence she could think of no one else, alone, her thoughts continuously drifted to the white beast in the demonic armor and how it felt that night to see him gradually come from the shadows, reeking of death, staring down from his high horse at her with seething red eyes. That very same night, he'd used his might to have her make sounds she had no idea she was capable of. Bael... She wondered how he was. Her wondering brought her to Kinaldi. He said he'd be here for a little while before setting out again. Tugging on the reigns, she commanded Fledge to stop before armed guards just inside the city gates. The paper he'd given to her was then given to them. "I need to know where Lord Bael resides," she'd told them, and had received a puzzled look in return. "Well, Miss," the man said, wiping the sweat from his brow as his eyes danced down her figure. "I'd love to, but yer just too pretty to die yet. Why don'tcha come back here 'round dusk. Me n' Rivend here," he nodded to his partner, "won't kill ya. In fact, we'd love to show you around town tonight. Whaddyou say?" "Hmm..." her eyes narrowed, a grin growing wide across her face. "I say Lord Bael wouldn't take too kindly to you fellows attempting to steal his girl." "His girl?" Rivend, who had been silent up until now, finally opened his mouth. "His girl," Freya confirmed. "Ooh, so yer one of those crazy masochistic broads... Okay. Keep on this road up the hill until it ends. Take the street with the blue sign on it. It'll be towards the end of that. If you get lost, more guards are posted in the area." She nodded, "Thanks, Gentlemen. You've been so nice." "Yer welcome. Take care," he said, and the both of them quickly returned to their duties, but not before passing a glance to one another awkwardly. Fledge trotted through the city, following the direction they'd been given. Eventually, they reached what appeared to be a giant stone wall. Beyond it towered the establishment she'd been seeking. The warhorse skipped around a bit until they found an entrance. No guards, she noted, supposing he most likely didn't need any. The horse was left just at the inside when she dismounted and wandered, glancing through every window she could find. Halfway completely around the complex, she'd come to a garden and a single window which overlooked it. Like the others, she pressed her face against the glass and peered inside, at last locating her whole reason for being here today. Freya fell away, taking many hurried steps backwards until her back hit the fence, then burst into the fastest sprint her legs could muster. The window was closing in on her, and just as it began to appear she would careen face-first into it and hurt herself, she took a big leap into the air, her leg flying forward. He would have heard the unmistakable, incredibly loud sound of shattering glass. If he dared look, he would find the red-head standing herself up amidst the shards, presenting herself with open arms. "Dramatic entraaaance!" she sang, seemingly quite pleased with herself. |
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| Rohriel | Jul 5 2009, 12:26 AM Post #2 |
 
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Bael had not slept. As usual. From the night before and into the morning his pen worked. He had run out of ink seven times during the course of his work, each of which had served to slow his progress in an unsatisfactory manor. There was too much to be done. With the empress gone and this... individual... in her place, he had been forced to reallocate the logistics of damn near the entire military. Practically hundred of missives, all personalized, had been written by his hand, addressing officers and other nobles for leagues on end. The work had made him irritable, easily annoyed. Luckily, though, the manner had long since been bereft of servants. Their presence was pointless, and thus, the land was now a small piece of solitude. This served the man fine. He needed to be away from humanity. They were little more than obstacles these days. The only sound that filled the room was his pen, muted by parchment as it scratched across the oaken desk. So, when the shattering of glass accompanied the scrawling, Bael's reaction was well within reason. Within seconds the over-sized man was on his feet. The desk flew forward as he practically stepped through it, his left hand grabbing at the Bastard Sword beside him and brandishing the wicked blade. With a single, giant step forward he swung the weapon across his body and shifted his weight into the strike, taking a wide, powering arch toward the possible assailant as it flew into the room and landed with a graceful stride. The steel came to a sudden halt. His eyes alight with a red fire, Bael bore a hole through the woman as she spoke. His chest heaved from the sudden burst of activity; he could feel the adrenaline pumping into his system. Slowly, he lowered the blade to his side and allowed for the edge to tap the stone-tiled flooring. A soft wind blew in behind the now shattered window, scattering various pages about, some even landing in a fire off to the side of the room. Books ruffled over the rather-large library, but few were disturbed, packed into their shelves as they were. In all, the room hardly fit the one within, serene, and belonging to that of a scholar, not some beast of a human. "Freya." He spoke, his deep-bass weary. "The front door does work," He allowed for the irritation to creep into his tone. Now he would have to replace the window. For a moment, the man considered slapping the woman across the face. "I didn't expect to see you; are you in trouble?" Edited by Rohriel, Jul 5 2009, 12:27 AM.
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| Freya LaShale | Jul 5 2009, 12:54 AM Post #3 |
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Love Thief
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Her eyes widened, instinctively reaching for the blade on her hip at the gleam of metal coming in her direction. When he stopped, the woman was performing an impressive back-bend, Lucille half unsheathed. Her head would have been lopped clean off if he'd continued. For a moment, the pair were frozen as such, until he moved to place his sword away. Well, about as away as it would get. "Trouble? Me? Sir, you offend me..." her brows raised, eyes fluttering half-lidded as she slowly erected herself and slid the Falchion back into its rested position. She shifted her weight onto the opposite foot and placed a hand on her hip. "...Pfft, doors..." she muttered, shifting her eyes away, which led her attention towards the mess of a desk on the floor. "...Oh my," she said quietly. "...Uhm... Didn't really expect you to demolish your study. I was planning on paying for the window..." The red-head went straight to cleaning up, collecting the scattered documents he'd worked so hard on for the past days and nights, fearlessly snatching one right out of the fire at the side of the room. Papers in one hand, she used the other to drag the chair he'd been sitting in back up, and set the documents on top before attempting to somehow salvage the desk. "...Just... HNNG! ...wanted to -hrk- see you... Missed ya. Okay, I don't think this is working out as well as I'd planned..." The desk remained on the floor, unwavering to Freya's girlish strength, all but a few inches. The furniture seemed to be of solid oak. |
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| Rohriel | Jul 5 2009, 01:05 AM Post #4 |
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Bael watched as the woman 'cleaned' his study. He was steady, but not inactive, as he sheathed his blade and followed almost every step with his head, twisting this way and that. She was dedicated, at least, though he doubted she felt any remorse or regret for the action. And paying for the window? Doubtful. Although his anger had ablated, Bael was still weary; the emotion was prevalent even in his actions as he moved. With one hand he held his weapon while with the other he reached forward, bending down and hoisting the desk back up to it's former glory with what appeared to be minuscule effort. Even thought it held no intention of such, Bael's typical behavior was a one-oh-one class on intimidation. The sheath clattered against wood as it hit the desk-top. Despite losing a great deal of work, that did not concern him. What was another night? He often found himself bored, without the need to rest, and often he would occupy himself with meaningless pursuits. Not that these held little use. "That won't be necessary," He spoke in accordance with her 'payment'. "I'll take care of it in due time. Until then I'll merely have to set traps for thieves." Not that he had to worry about those either. Who in their right mind would steal from a demon? Pausing to collect some of the papers, Bael made his own way to the fire. He frowned at the parchment to far in to be saved by human hands, but never-the-less, he reached forward and took his time, calmly grabbing the parchment as the flames lapped at his hand, searing some of the skin as it did. The man made not a sound. "Missed me? We spent a single night in a tent together." His tone was doubtful. "I'm not even sure you told me your real name." Strangely enough, he thought to himself, he lied about his own. |
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| Freya LaShale | Jul 5 2009, 01:23 AM Post #5 |
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Love Thief
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She was not surprised when he lifted the heavy object with ease. When he had, she lazily leaned against its surface's edge and folded her arms across her chest, watching his back as he went to play with fire, unable to see the damage the flames were doing to his hand. "What? Is that so hard to believe?" a brow peaked at him. "Is it hard to believe that I missed your face, your skin, the way you tossed me around like a doll? Or..." he eyes were visibly drifting out the window, wandering to a very fond memory,"...the way you pinned me down, shredded my clothes..." her head began to tilt. The trail of words ended. She was lost in her head again, but it didn't take her all that long to snap out of it. After all, she'd like to be conscious in his presence before he was gone again. "And yes, that's my real first name. Last is LaShale. I can give you my genealogy if you like. You can go meet my folks in Angkar if you're that interested." Freya smiled, chuckling at her own jokes. Oh, if he were to meet her parents, he'd probably understand everything about her. He'd probably just as well never want anything to do with her again. Her parents had that effect on people. Freya stood and wandered away from the desk, halting only when she was behind him, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder curiously, if for no other reason than she wanted to touch him. "I'll come back some other time if you like..." |
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| Rohriel | Jul 5 2009, 01:35 AM Post #6 |
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Bael listened as he moved back toward the table. He placed the burn husks of ink and parchment on the desk and ignored the pain from his hand - it, at least, let him know he was still at least partially human. The glow in his eyes lessened as the woman continued to speak, each word both a welcome and unwelcome notion. Solitude was his greatest friend, as people drained him too greatly, yet her presence was at least a comfort. Too much time alone and perhaps whatever it was that was happening to him would finish the job. That, at least, he could still fear. "Somewhat. Yes, it is hard to believe." The man turned back toward the fire. His hand clenched unconsciously, perhaps afraid of the flame. "Fire is attracted to life." Whether that was an observation or a statement was not quite so clear. "You've made a mistake in choosing me, among all the others, I'm sure." He ignored the touch of her fingers on his shoulder. It was not unwelcome, but strange. So very rarely did people touch him these days, whether it was to clasp hands or merely a pat of friendship. The sentiment was not lost on him. "You're free to stay as long as you like. There's food in the dinning hall," Amusing, despite his malnourished behavior, Bael still made himself a meal on a daily basis. Usually it went to stray dogs and cats. Or even the occasional beggar. "I'm guessing that you haven't eaten yet today." With his burnt hand, he motioned toward the door exiting the study. To be honest, he wanted to leave the library before it took any more damage. Books were expensive. |
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| Freya LaShale | Jul 5 2009, 02:03 AM Post #7 |
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Love Thief
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"Accept it, Sugar," her hand fell away slowly, not before briefly gliding down his bicep. "If it's a mistake, then it's still a mistake that makes me smile. Stop second-guessing yourself, will you?" This beast had the presence of a man-eater and a soul-fleyer, yet she was speaking to him as if she didn't feel a thing. No, it did have an effect on her, just not a very common one in that it only fed her a continual stream of adrenaline. She felt bouncier around him, a little less hollow and sad. Free to stay as long as she liked, he'd said. He'd regret that later once she broke another window, causing him to break some more furniture. By the time she left, this place would be in shambles. She glanced at the door when he motioned towards it, but her eyes strayed back to his hand, noticing the burn that hadn't been there a moment ago. Did he not realize it? Not feel it? No, he felt. She knew that for certain. "Actually, I have eaten. Ate before looking for your place, but thank you for the offer. I'm doing quite well for myself these days, actually. Nary a missed meal," she beamed innocently, knowing full well he probably knew of how she went about making a living. He could probably guess in a few tries, but she couldn't recall telling him directly... So many people she'd run into the past few weeks, she couldn't remember who knew and who didn't anymore. "...Might like to see another room, though. This one in particular is kinda small for you plus one. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind having to break your personal bubble..." |
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| Rohriel | Jul 5 2009, 04:09 PM Post #8 |
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Voices and footsteps echoed as the two continued. The hallways were barren of decoration, and if not for the occasional window, the entirety of the manner would be dark. No candles, torches, or any sort of light was present, but never-the-less Bael maneuvered his way through without a hitch. Once she informed him of her condition, the man changed course, stepping through an open archway and turning his gaze toward a staircase leading to the second floor. "It's not a matter of accepting, more-so than questioning your judgement." He spoke as his eyes flicked back to the woman. For a brief moment Bael was able to recall just why he had accepted Freya's presence. He allowed himself to relax for a brief moment, took in her form and admired. One advantage of lacking any sort of iris was the ability to stare and still retain a pilot atmosphere. That, he mused, definitely hinted he was still human. Slowly, Bael shifted his body in Freya's direction, squaring his shoulders up to her's. The action was strange - for one not of a military background, anyway. "For future reference," He paused and thumbed over his shoulder. "The front door is there." Without further words, Bael gave the woman a scolding smirk and began his ascent up to the second floor. Similar to the first, this level was barren, all the way until the last room on the far edge of the manner. The large, wooden door opened with little noise, revealing behind it an unused bed-room, complete with a bed that could sleep six men. There was dust everywhere. |
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| Freya LaShale | Jul 5 2009, 08:49 PM Post #9 |
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Love Thief
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Freya followed, keeping close behind him as he led her through the unfamiliar labarynth of his domicile. The walls bare, she didn't care to fight the urge to reach out and run her fingertips along her surroundings as they moved, absently tilting her head as she attempted to memorize everything. In such an unfamiliar environment, she was still a tad uneasy, but you wouldn't know it to look at her. He wasn't kidding when he said he moved around a lot. The place smelled more of dust than him. "Oh, well... then yes, that's accurate," she grinned. Nobody could deny that she had odd tastes, but it was nothing if not reasonable. After all, as she'd experienced more and more excitement, the usual grew from boring to irritating. It was no surprise she now chose the company of a soul in the process of rotting and a body in the process of being bleached before dying. She could not tell where his eyes were gazing, giving Bael a truly candid moment of her. Her eyes were open, moving around wherever they went in a child-like fascination as a tress of subtly wavy red fell into her face. Her lips were parted just enough to see the thin line of white that were her teeth on the other side. Eventually, her attention returned to him, and for a moment, she looked on his with the same apparent fascination before it vanished just as he moved to speak. His comment, paired with his expression, provoked a smirk out her of her just the same, eyes narrowing at him when he turned to continue. A quiet sigh escaped when he turned his back on her, and regardless of her spirit, which was telling her to take the palm of her hand to the backside of his head, for no other motivation but to establish some sort of dominance, she followed behind him quietly. "Wow," she blinked as he opened the wooden door enough for her to peek through. "Big bed. Big ...unused bed. Heh." The red-head turned to lean against the door frame on a shoulder, folding her arms. "Well, it's about what I expected you to have. And now that's over with, I'm out of amusing ideas. I don't suppose you entertain much, do you?" |
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| Rohriel | Jul 5 2009, 09:49 PM Post #10 |
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Bael eyed the innards of the room. Or, rather, he felt them, the same as he felt the woman next to him. Such a strange sensation; he knew the touch of her skin by hand, but in this he could feel her life - a strange development of his condition. Ultimately, his sort of 'extra sensory perception' was far more appealing than the usual senses. Silence permeated the room. The man shook his head, noticing that he was 'staring' for far too long. Turning his eyes back to Freya, Bael went about smoothing out his tunic, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Now there was a foreign emotion. "Not for a while now. Others don't tend to share your... resilience to my presence." He stepped into the room, his back facing the woman. A myriad of ideas flooded to the forefront of his mind, albeit, each scenario ended in an undesirable outcome. As before, he fought with himself internally, knowing that the best course of action was to probably tie her up and toss her out the door. That retained a certain charm to it. "Amusing, hm?" A moment of anger flashed across his countenance. Bael turned around suddenly and reached out, moving with an unnerving speed and strength. He lanced out and put a hand around Freya's arm, drawing her forward against her will. Bael tightened his grasp and moved his other hand around the woman's waist, threatening to crush her in the breadth of a moment. "I have things to do, girl, do you consider me part of your 'amusement'?" He tightened his hold further. Edited by Rohriel, Jul 5 2009, 09:50 PM.
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| Freya LaShale | Jul 5 2009, 10:28 PM Post #11 |
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Love Thief
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"...My insanity," she added, shifting her gaze away. Too many people had called her crazy for her to not care. It was one of those things she couldn't wrap her mind around, why exactly she was so different. Did people not understand that all it took was a step forward to reach out and grasp what you desire? Nobody ever seemed to want to take that step, they would all just keep dreaming until one day they die with a chest heavy in regret. Was it that she was too blunt and honest for sanity? Really, she'd like to know what kept people the way they were without turning into a bunch of versions of her and Razi. Loonies. When her attention traveled back, she caught a flash of his anger, but already it was too late. She'd been too relaxed in his presence and he'd gotten the drop on her easily, having been wrenched forward, once more as if she were nothing but a doll to him. His words were tipped with venom, and his body language told her that she'd said something terribly wrong, and she was utterly confused on how someone could take offense to something so innocent. When her eyes began to fall back to their normal size, her mind buzzed with all the things she wanted to do to him, one of them beginning to slip through her social filter as her free arm rose, her hand winding back in preparation to slap him across his face, but it hesitated, instead simply held there like a cobra waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The strike never came. He was so easily agitated, and her bones would snap like twigs under his strength. She wanted to yell at him for acting so cruel. She'd come a long way and gone through effort just to see him, make sure he was doing well, and right now, he seemed different than the man that had lifted her into a sweet goodbye kiss at the doorway to his tent that morning. She felt his over-baring presence collapsing on her, and as her metaphorical tail slid between her legs, her eyes fluttered down into a pair of crescents, peering at him dreamily from such a close proximity and his hands on her skin. Freya found herself to be quite helpless, and quite speechless, the threatening hand lowering back down to her side. She knew what she wanted, but right now, she was ...too afraid to take it. |
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| Rohriel | Jul 5 2009, 10:45 PM Post #12 |
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What the hell was he doing? Bael realized how tightly he had grabbed the woman, forgotten that his strength far outweighed her own. The voices had gotten a hold of him without him noticing; they had remained silent, was it of his volition that the situation had become such? He wanted to snag her arm. He wanted to break her in half for no other reason than that she was alive, that she still retained color in her skin. That she felt pain. His brow furrowed as she raised her hand, ready to strike. In this position he held the power, an assault was futile... Bale released her arm. His chest heaved as he took in a deep draw of breath, and his forehead relaxed, no longer lined with aggression. Although his eyes were focused, his senses picked up on the subtitles of the woman's body. Every twitch, each flutter of her eye-lids. He knew why she was here, and for a moment he berated himself for his reaction. Emotion wasn't his strong suit. The hesitation flooded out of his body. With one hand already placed, and with her so close, Bael lifted Freya off the ground and wrapped an arm around her back-side, literally suspending her in mid-air as he leaned forward, enveloping the woman in a passionate, hot-blooded embrace. His lips met her's, hungrily, and grasped for every inch they could, fully expecting her to return the gesture. Stepping back, he took two unsteady steps toward the bed and lowered himself down. Strange, he had not even been in this room for the last three years. It was about time it saw some use. |
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| Freya LaShale | Jul 5 2009, 11:21 PM Post #13 |
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Love Thief
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She didn't move an inch as she felt the pressure on her arm fade away, instead petrified into place between moving forward and taking a few steps back. When his expression of rage began to melt away, she could breathe a bit better, she felt, no longer holding it for fear it would mean death, and while she often boasted, she ...didn't want to die today. Then suddenly, she was rising into the air again, and a small smile broke through the wariness. Ah, there he was... The embrace was wholly welcomed, even lusted after, and it showed. Just as he went to claim her, her body flew forward, arms hugged tightly around his neck with a hand clutching desperately at his short hair. Her mouth crushed into his, open and inviting, eliciting a deep, satisfied moan. Her legs rose to bind around his waist, clinging to him as if he were about to save her life, and, in a sense, he was. The red-head's eyes were shut tightly, but she could feel when they both dropped in height, her legs bending back to straddle him comfortably. The embrace had been so passionate, she was already beginning to feel a shortness in breath, pouring her all into it. Her arms slid over his shoulders and began down his chest, feeling through the fabric of the shirt the flesh she so sought after. Both hands spread, and using a great amount of might, she shoved him back down to lay. He very well could resist and he probably wouldn't budge. "Wait. Bael..." she sighed, opening her eyes to look down at him as a head-toss placed her long locks elegantly draping over one shoulder, out of her face. "Before this happens again: You're not my toy and you're not my amusement. I genuinely like you. I really, really... think you're beautiful. And I'm many things, but I am not a liar." She slowly stretched over him like a jungle cat, coming to place her hand on his face where a finger drifted along the scar in admiration before she leaned down to cover his lips once more deeply, without the fever it had before, but with the same gratuitous amount of passion. |
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| Rohriel | Jul 5 2009, 11:54 PM Post #14 |
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Bael had not expected that response. Taken aback, the man actually cracked a real smile and laughed through the kiss. Feeling her arms wrap around his neck was exhilarating, and even more so when her legs found their way around his waist. He ran his hands up her sides and as they both went down, allowing his over-size hands to encompass almost more than half of her torso. His eyes closed for a brief moment, but he could still 'see' her. In that, he reveled, feeling her body as it tensed, as her chest heaved, as her breath shortened. Surprisingly, he did not resist. He let the vixen push him back and remembered why it was he had this bed in the first place. Damn thing was comfortable. His hands moved down to each side of Freya's waist and sat there, gently messaging any exposed flesh. Her skin, just as before, was like silk to the touch. Bael returned the woman's gaze. With her hair over her shoulder, from this angle, the man was entranced. Everything about her was ravishing, her voice, her looks, even her eyes. How he could have even suspected her of such callous intentions was far beyond his mind now. Frankly, he didn't really care. He almost shuddered as she ran her finger down his scar. Memories exploded to the forefront of his mind and for a moment he drifted, only to return seconds later to realize Freya had reattached herself to him. Gently, he wrapped one arm around the woman and pulled her in closer, pushing his body into hers as he returned the kiss. He wanted to say something, but... well. There was time. "My name isn't Bael." He said, breaking away for a singular moment. "At least, my real name." For the past twenty years he hadn't heard his real name spoken from anyway, let alone himself. He almost didn't believe it himself. "It's Rohriel." |
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