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| The Deluge; Juul! | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 14 2014, 06:35 PM (1,132 Views) | |
| Juul Shaepah | Sep 15 2014, 04:48 PM Post #26 |
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"Nevneni Lesten." The soldier repeated the name back to her lover, her tone something reverential, as if she was attempting to commit it to memory. Her head lifted off of the hardness of her knees, and she half turned her body to peer at the healer, a latticed hand pressed into the sheepskin for support. Nevneni had asked her for her own name, though her eyes seemed about to glaze over with some intangible enormity. Juul took in a half-breath, unsure whether the other woman was in a receptive state, but continued. "Juul, for me grandmother. Irini, for m'ma. And the last's Shaepah, an' I don' know why that is. Maybe we were herders or some such, generations ago. I got no-one t'ask." A silence developed between them, as Juul perceived that her lover was sitting on something, vacillating. It was as if she was bracing behind a pike, hoping against hope that it was enough to ward off the charge of looming destriers - every instinct aflame, only a suicidal hope keeping the hands white-knuckled against the haft. The quiet grew, and the soldier was confused, but an empathy and a curiosity kept her mouth barred against interruption. Now was not the time for questions, or even encouragement - whatever the healer before her had to say, she had to do it entirely of her own volition. Finally the words came forth, rather like an old cart lurching over the crest of a hill. She spoke of her past, her childhood, and Juul faintly recognised her own history in the words. She fought to focus against the current of images that flowed forth - hard work tilling and weeding, the towering crops at harvest time, the lowing cattle like the peal of a trumpet, punctuating their labours on the earth. The healer paused, her eyes locking with Juul's for a scant second, before she continued, outlining her hopes and uncertainties. The mention of a marriage proposal caused a surprising pang of jealousy in the soldier's breast, but she warded it off, confused at such a knee-jerk reaction. Nevneni trailed off as she detailed the conventional events of her birthday, but Juul knew there was a terrible revelation to follow. The healer seemed to wilt into herself, before she inflated with a frantic rush, breath gasping as she put words to the horrid act done to her. Her hands dug with hatred at her own flesh, and Juul moved slowly closer - though instinct screamed at her not to touch. She had seen the deed done many a time, in the sack of towns - a show of dominance, a sick reward for successful killing. But here, here was the terrible face of it. Those that survived, left to pick up the pieces of their shattered reality. The flood of words and sadness and impotent anger seemed to cease, and the healer wilted once more, as Nevneni began to reflect on her hollow revenge. Juul couldn't quite wrap her mind around how empty it must have been, the bleak reality of nothing changing after the act of murder - an act that must have been anathema to such a sweet girl. No wonder she had tried to take her own life - what possible resolution could she have found? The soldier inched forward, on her knees, and leant to place a callused hand on an alabaster shoulder. She tried to keep her touch soft, though her eyes blazed with anger at the professed guilt of the other. Though her tone was even and firm, as she spoke she felt her mouth had hit the gallop before her mind was in the saddle. "The hell are ye sorry for? Eh?" She inched forward again, wrapping one arm around her lover, then the other, gently cradling her as their brows came together. Air inflated her lungs, which shuddered slightly, before breathing out. The soldier was affected by such an outpouring. "I'm a killer, Nev. I'm no knight, doin' battle to protect the serfs. I came up in th'company o' soldiers. Since I was a bairn I've been on the battlefield, given silver for bloodshed, or the threat of't. I were there at the fall o' Eldahar, and my steel drank deep that day as smoke rose o'er the domes o' the place." she breathed again, before continuing "I look at you, an' I don't see a killer. Its diff'rent - ye had no choice! Ye had to, an' ye did it. Accept it. Don' even promise that ye'd never do it again, because the world is a place of violence, an' if someone offers it to ye, ye have t'respond. Because if ye don't, yer dead." Edited by Juul Shaepah, Sep 16 2014, 09:27 AM.
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| Nevneni | Oct 21 2014, 09:52 PM Post #27 |
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Asperges me hysopo, et mundabor: lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor.
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Nevneni was terrified at first, believing that Juul was truly angry. Her touch, though it was only firm, seemed like a blow to her overwrought body. She shivered away from Juul, only to find her closer, with an arm wrapped about her shoulders. Another came, heavy but warm, and then Nevneni was held in such a way that made her imagine that her entire body was carried away by Juul. The press of the soldier's forehead to hers smoothed the lines on her brow and she breathed out shakily, then stopped shaking all together. The tight fold of her legs relaxed and her hands gave up their self abuse and dropped, leaving white marks on her breasts. These accounts of battle, of Juul's living at the expense of deaths of others, did not bother her somehow. She had guessed that this would be the case from the moment she'd seen the woman and it no longer hurt to be confronted with such truths, especially when her chest was full of the tranquil warmth that follows a storm of emotion. In a way, she figured, Juul needed her fighting more than Nevneni had needed hers, more than Vorkael had needed his: it was in he way, it was the primary directive of her nature, and there was no changing that. So in that way it was good that someone who would know told her that she was no killer. Every inch of Nevneni's being railed against what she had done; her guilt made her all the more guiltless. Just like that, Juul's words had sent the feeling of truth plunging into the correct place in her chest. Nevneni expected it to be like a flash of lightning, gone as soon as she'd seen it. But no, it left a slow-burning flame inside her, a small but steady light. So often in the past months she had ruminated on the dream where she had discovered what had happened to Aravin, and so often she tried to conjure up the feeling of peace that had glowed in her when she had seen those survivors of the same abuse wandering together at the bottom of the sea. But it could not come from herself alone, not when she was so tied up in her strings: it took the voice of another to cut those strings. "Yes," she said, pressing a kiss to Juul's lips, her hands touching her lover's bare flesh. "Yes, that is it. I think–" But no, no more thinking and indecision. She had been given a flame, she must not douse it. 'I love you." Immediately she was overwhelmed by the need to apologise, to hide her face so that she might not be so bare, but she withstood the wave. Her eyes met Juul's and she pulled away to see them better, observing the hilly landscape in her irises. "It's so sudden that I imagine I shouldn't say it all. But if it's true...I love you." |
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| Juul Shaepah | Oct 26 2014, 10:05 PM Post #28 |
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As she clasped the smaller woman to her, she felt her stiffen like a frightened animal, feeling her body quiver and almost rebel against her touch. She stayed the course, persevering in enclosing the healer in a strong embrace, her arms firm. They came together as the tide against the cliffs, stiff resolution on both sides, until Juul felt Nevneni's will to self flagellation crack and break apart. Under her stiff cradle, the other woman softened and released herself, the abusive grip falling from her tender flesh - and with that, she slackened as a whole. The fight was done. As their heads came together, and they exchanged soft words, the soldier's nose was again filled with the sweet scents of the other woman, and she saw anew the softness in her. The forever giving, forever forgiving spirit of the woman seemed to wash over Juul, almost as if she were baptised anew under it. She spoke of Eldahar, and the words nearly stuck in her throat, but Neveneni seemed nonplussed, even accepting. She would speak those words with pride, of course, or with venom - but never as an admission, never with a sense of shame. Until now. The softness of the healer's lips touched her beaten skin, and their eyes locked and plumbed the inky depths of one another, the rolling landscapes of the irises interrupted by the feral glint of knowing, of intelligence. They stayed as such for some moments, their breath rising and falling together as it had so much this past night - whether gazing out at the storm, or locked in the throes of passion. As if they were one. Then came the words, so softly spoken, but carrying such force as to break an iron chain. But if it's true...I love you Juul's lips came together in a folding purse, and she broke the near-mystic link their eyes held, her head bowed as if in supplication. Now she had done it. Nevneni didn't understand where the soldier came from, didn't understand the rigours of the battlefield. You never flew your true colours, never shook hands or embraced with covenants sworn to bone and marrow. Those that did could see those they cared for struck down next to them, or worse, find themselves opposite one aother - their bonds rent asunder by the merciless fortunes of war. "'Tis a bad omen to say so, Nev," she said, her voice muffled by her bowed head "But..." Her throat closed. Thoughts of Cynricke, her teenaged shield-mate, flooded to her, and she struggled to dam that river of memory. It was too much, she needed to move, to shake herself of it. She pecked the woman's alabaster cheek, before disentangling herself from around Nevneni and standing tall. She gathered her scattered clothes, and dressed swiftly, her motions animated by the burning wound in her stomach, as if it had been pierced by a lance. She knew what would calm it, as she wrapped her feet - almost desperately. She looked over to the symbols of her strength, the iron and the leather and the bridled steel. In what seemed like two racing heartbeats to her, she was armoured anew, shielded against the weakness that flowered in her gizzards, her breast. Harnessed in her ringing mail and unyielding steel, buttressed by the tight leather of her baldric and gauntlets, she could strive once more. "Remember Kinaldi, Nev. When the first rains are fallin'." With that, she strode out of the door. Edited by Juul Shaepah, Oct 26 2014, 10:06 PM.
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