| Heartwood Logs |
2000-06-12
| Heartwood |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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Whispers in the Night
The night is deep, the hallways pitch black. Brisa can't see her hand before her face when Anuje nudges her awake for her watch. Indeed, it's a mystery as to why the young girl herself isn't stumbling in the dark.
In the night, sound travels far. Somewhere in the distance is the slight ring of crossing swords, the sound of hooves through brambles every now and then. Allena can be heard, her breath soft and almost strangled, hanging in her chains. For the first time in two hundred and fifty years she sleeps. Tashka's chains clatter every now and then somewhere in the blackness above Brisa, but the Dayallan's breath is faster and more regular -- definitely awake.
However, it is hard for Brisa to move with Romana curled up next to her. Romana's head feels light upon Brisa's shoulder, both her arms wrapped around Brisa's one, curled close and warm. A Dayallan for a princess' pillow.
Brisa nods quietly to Anuje, then glances down at Romana, wondering how she'll disentangle without waking her. Hmm... well, then again if the sounds of battle from Bordertown are carrying that clearly, a lizard coming down a hallway deliberately strewn with noisy things should sound like gravel underhoof at the gallop. She decides to sit still, and put a small spark out in the cross hallway, so she can see if anything actually does somehow manage to approach silently. She murmurs softly to herself, holding up her free hand. When the little blue spark blooms into life she sends it whirling lightly out into the hallway, then settles back and relaxes a bit. The light should be gentle enough that it won't wake the sleepers nearby. She sighs softly, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at the Verchovai. Her small smile is a touch rueful and her words very soft, so as to not disturb anyone sleeping, "Not sleepy tonight?"
A soft chuckle comes from above as Tashka smiles in the soft blue light. "Oh, it's been so long..." The Verchovai just watches, following the path of Brisa's star. "I didn't think I'd ever see, or have need of, the little friend again."
Brisa glances at it, then back at the Verchovai uncertainly, "Ah... it's not too bright, is it?" She's not sure if Tashka minds or no.
"And no." Tashka continues, "I'm just trying to remember night. We used to never get past dusk..."
Brisa nods, "Ah, I see." She's silent for a moment, just listening... then sighs softly at a particularly clear clang of metal against metal. Quietly she says, "Verchovai... may I ask you some questions about the rider? For tomorrow?"
The elder Dayallan's expression falls, shadowed once again. "I will do my best to answer..."
Brisa murmurs softly, unhappy at having harmed Tashka's enjoyment of night, "I... I'm sorry, Verchovai... I wouldn't ask if I knew anything about them...?"
Tashka shrugs, "It's fine... if I help... maybe I will see another, yes? One can hope?"
Brisa smiles quietly, "We will do our best, Verchovai, you know that." She falls silent for a moment, thinking... then says thoughtfully, "I've been thinking... and as far as I know there's two kinds of ways to be armored. One is to have some fantastic defense, so that only big blows can get through, and in order to fight them a lot of damage has to be done all at once or it just gets ignored. The other is to have some fantastic amount of endurance, so that any blow can get through, but it takes a lot of blows to actually harm them, and in that case a lot of damage has to be done over a long period of time, to bring one's enemy down." She looks up at Tashka and softly asks, "Which one is His rider like, Verchovai? Do you know?"
"That's a hard one, lass. It is. If he's old, and he is, he's got the best armor her could steal. But he hits hard. Can you win a battle of endurance, Brisa?" Tashka shrugs, her chains rattling.
"Carnage." The breath of the word teases Brisa's cheek, warm and light. Without stirring, without even opening her eyes, Romana answers. "Carnage. That His life. Think that way, make most blood and splash and carnage for just carnage, and like Him you will think."
Brisa blinks slightly at Romana's comment, looking down at her puzzledly, "I'm not sure what you mean, Romishka. Are you saying best to kill him in a quick burst of damage?" She smiles ruefully up at Tashka, "I'd prefer not to let it get to that, Verchovai. I'd prefer to whittle him down at a distance. But..." she frowns thoughtfully, looking back at Romana, "-I... guess that might not be the best way to defeat him?"
Romana snuggles closer, a small and simple, unconscious movement. "Likes blood. Anyone's. What he lives for." She smiles quietly, eyes still closed. "Know how beast thinks, know how they fights, how they hurt."
"She's right, you know." Tashka chuckles softly, "Know how the fox hunts, know how to capture a fox."
Brisa looks blank, then amused, "Um... this is not helping me right this moment, I'm afraid. What are you inferring, please?" She gives Tashka a faintly incredulous look, "You're not really suggesting we capture him?!" She absently pulls the cloak more closely over Romana's shoulders as she talks.
Tashka chokes, shaking her head. "No, it's an older proverb really, Brisa. Know thy enemy. That's the first step to killing them."
Romana stretches a little, her eyes finally blinking open. She takes a breath and nods. "Tashkas right. If know, then weakness find. Especially if others not know how you fight." As she speaks her eyes close again and she is drawn closer as she is covered beneath Brisa's cloak. One arm loosens, to wrap around Brisa, crossing beneath her collarbone, Romana's hand ending on Brisa's shoulder.
Brisa sighs in faint amusement, shifting so Romana will be more comfortable, tucking an arm around her, and then saying to Tashka, "So... what are the rider's weaknesses then?" She thinks a bit, then amends, "No... tell me please all you know about riders first. Then we can discuss weaknesses, after we share knowledge of the enemy?"
Tashka's smile returns for a moment, watching the two before her. Then she shrugs, shaking her head. "We don't know very much, actually. Avatars of each of their fell gods, a walking incarnation of their Master's will. Carnage, poison, waste, and death. They reflect their lords like a mirror. When named they come. And they must come, forsaking all else."
Brisa nods thoughtfully, "All right. When you called this one, what did he wear? What weapons did he carry? Was he mounted? How did you fight him? What happened? And... what did you do to successfully slay the other three?"
Tashka shakes her head, "Oh yes, they are mounted. Destriers in pale white. Dieta's had a staff, Forlal a flail. Palinate a lance upon a skeletal horse, but Him? He had a greatsword too. And I fought him here, in this hall, where only one could come at me in one time. The first two, they were not good in a face to face slaying... but Palinate's I had to cut apart, find his heart and heal it... I don't think that will work twice."
"Swords, big-big hammers, axes on sticks... " Romana speaks, her fingers tracing small and very concerned circles on Brisa's shoulder. "If make bloody he will use. Might be different each day. Arrogant, brash, think with rutting heart, not good sense. Can't. To be balance... not of... the East."
Brisa nods thoughtfully, "So... he'll ride up, which means it won't take long to get here from the town. But he can't ride the horse down into here." She falls silent, musing, then glances at Romana thoughtfully, "Are you saying that if His weapon isn't bloody he can't use it?" She mumbles puzzledly under her breath, "...'rutting heart'...?" then shivers slightly, trying to imagine what 'rutting heart' might be for someone dedicated to carnage... then goes still, thinking intently.
Romana lifts her head, looking up to Brisa. She shakes it passionately, back and forth. "No. Sword slices clean. Hammer and axes... messy. Messy makes Him happy. He smiles. But of blood, he must kill." Romana swallows, the brush of her fingers pausing. "MUST. If not kill enough one day Marin looks away and head falls off, since throat already slit."
Brisa gives Romana an incredulous glance, "He kills things every day?!" She says slowly, incredulously, "So... if we did somehow manage to capture him, hold him for a day... he'd likely die due to Marin's disfavor?! Or... would those soldiers down at Bordertown count towards his killing?"
Tashka gasps, shaking her head, "He what?"
Romana shrugs, laying her head back upon Brisa's shoulder, "Every day, Romanas think. Usually someone comes, tries to take his place, so keeping up is easy. But silly Brisas," Brisa can feel Romana smile, "Marin not Trundle money-holder. Can't store blood for rainy day. And mayhaps yes, not for Marin's disfavor. Marin will be bored and go look elsewhere for fun."
Brisa frowns, thinking carefully, "So... so we need to keep ourselves unbloodied, and keep him from shedding blood... for like a day. Or we need to just kill him... a 250 year old avatar." She pauses, then says wryly, "What a choice. All right, let me think some more here..." She ponders for a while, then nods at a sudden thought, "Can he call Friends, Romana? Does he have defenses against them? Are the avatars usually nobility, or no?"
Tashka's gaze darkens, falling silently upon Brisa's companion. Romana however, doesn't notice. "All have friends, one sort or another. Matches nature, yes?" She looks up again, and as she counts her finger traces a light arc upon Brisa's collar. "Palinate collects those not die, Forlal and Dieta shades of sick and wasting, Marin army of bloodhunters -- men, women, like him. Friends, followers, only to match their nature. Sometimes noble, sometimes not. Though most nobles... think... Marin not in right mind. How can rule, when kill those who follow?"
Brisa nods, thinking carefully, then double-checks to be sure she's understanding Romana, "So... a Friend would be a viable way to attack one then, right? They don't have any special defenses against Friends, or call Friends of their own, or anything else like that?"
Romana nods, "Big Friends work best..."
Tashka looks down quietly. Her words are flat and level. "What is a Friend. And how does she know all that."
Brisa glances up at Tashka in faint surprise at the tone in her voice, then back at Romana, "Romishka, may I tell your story?" She does not, however, shift her position or arms at all away from Romana at Taskha's queries.
Romana swallows and holds herself closer to Brisa, her eyes closing. She nods quietly. "Yes. Is fine. Romanas trust Brisa."
Tashka shakes her head, almost incredulous, "...trusts you?"
Brisa smiles quietly at Romana, lightly brushing Romana's ever-recalcitrant bangs out of her face with a free hand, then calmly tells Tashka, "Verchovai, in the city of um... I'm not good at these names, so be patient with me please -- in the city of Klhrrr... Kh'lry'ra-" she has to work to get it right, and isn't sure she did, but determinedly forges on, "-there's a lord of a tower, a um... I don't know, maybe a king? I think the tower lords are like small princes in their own right or something -- anyway, there's one that wanted to um... to coerce a very big, dangerous, and dark Friend... a summonable thing, you know? and so he had a daughter specifically to feed her or marry her to this dark thing. If she didn't want to marry it, it didn't matter -- it would just eat her. And once the lord could compel this creature... he'd be the most powerful lord in the lands. All of them, if I understand correctly." Brisa's voice is a little grim at that news. She sighs softly, tucking the cloak up around Romana a bit, adding, "Unsurprisingly, the daughter wasn't wild about this... so she ran away. Repeatedly. She always got brought back... except this last time, where she stumbled across us." She smiles quietly, "She introduced herself to us initially as a very long name that I'm certainly not going to mangle here... but I think most and best of all I know her as... Romana... who is Romanas..." she grins quietly, "-who is Romanas." Brisa looks up at Tashka and smiles, "So... here we are."
"But even so... " Tashka looks down. "I spent years fighting them. The last time I saw my best friend Jeminy was when we had to leave her, pulling back along the road. They are killers and sorcerers, Brisa..."
Romana swallows and just shakes her head. "Not killer..."
Brisa says gently, "Verchovai... did you know that what you are telling me about Easterners is what they say now about Coveners? And yet, look..." She points to Allena, "-there is one now... and I am sure you will tell me she is not a killer or a sorcerer, da? She risked her life with you, da? Well... Romishka has risked her life with us also." Her smile at Romana is rather proudly affectionate, "In some ways I think what mishka did when the lizards attacked was the bravest of all of us... she had no weapon, but she still tried to help!" Brisa looks back at Tashka, her voice still very quiet and calm, "And us... to her we're the starbredkillers. To the Jvrillians we're sword bitches. To the Imperials we're... firewood." Her voice is bitter at the last... then she adds, "None of them are that true... are they?"
Tashka looks to the sky, tilting her head up to where the stars should be. "Thanks much, Lady... laughing at me being rescued by an Easterner..." She looks down to Brisa, her eyes still stern. "And she's your companion now. And you trust her?"
Brisa looks faintly puzzled -- there's that phrase again, companion, what does she mean there?! -- then for the moment simply nods and takes the simplest interpretation of the word, "My traveling companions include two Imperials, a Covener, an Easterner, one I don't know... who am I to tell Herself who can travel with me, or what wrongs I should right? Yes, I trust them all. I could not have come so far without their aid. I might well be dead now were it not for them." Brisa hesitates, then takes the mental plunge, "Um... what do you mean by that word, by the way? What is a companion to you, please, Verchovai?" Absently she taps Romana lightly on the shoulder with her free hand, "Remind me to get you a good dagger at the very least, along with the armor, when we go back to Bordertown, da, mishka?"
Romana lets out her breath, looking back to Brisa quietly. Her head turns to gently rest upon Brisa's shoulder again, quietly listening to Brisa's words. She wraps her arm back around Brisa's neck and shoulder, shrugging lightly. She does turn, however, and place a finger light upon Brisa's chin. "Romanas have daggers, heavy and sharp. Brisa gave Romana torch to hold..."
Tashka looks down, her head tilting, "You mean you are not companions? But it's so obvious in your soft looks. Two folks who care for each other, sword sisters, lovers..."
Brisa gives Tashka a faintly exasperated grin, "Verchovai, I mean this very politely, but what you say does not explain to me what a companion is! How can a Dayallan have a lover? That's forbidden -- and would disqualify you to attract a unicorn as well!" She sighs a little morosely, adding, "-although I am thinking I would very much like to argue with those unicorns. I know a Verchovai captain who is a very brave lady and a great warrior, who even turned the Fey! but... no unicorn for her, ever, I think..." She sighs softly, her voice trailing off unhappily. Romana just stops. Her head slowly turns, looking up to Tashka. Then she looks back to Brisa. She swallows quietly, and her sapphire eyes sparkle nervously. Brisa tilts her head at Romana inquiringly, "What's wrong, mishka?"
Shrugging her shoulders, Tashka looks down. "It's... it's not that black and white, Brisa. Dayalla never said we couldn't be happy, or we couldn't fall in love. Not all want to ride unicorns. Some wish to have children. And the unicorns... they are all stallions. They consider their rider their mate. And they are selfish. But they don't have any mares either, you know. Your companion can do many things, little one... just not take you. That's for your unicorn to do." Romana's eyes go wide. "Oh! That's symbolically... " Tashka continues clarifying herself very fast. "Not real..." She muses, "Though there have always been rumors. But that's just barracks tales."
Brisa looks utterly confused, "What?!" She mutters, "Why do I have this feeling you two are having a conversation around me?!"
Romana starts a bit, and then shakes her head. "Romana just doesn't know how Brisa feels..." She lays her head upon Brisa's shoulder, her fingers light upon Brisa's throat. "Afraid if Brisa thinks too much..."
Tashka shakes her head. "No. We are not. I'm trying to explain. It's not going well. Ask again?"
Brisa blinks as another thought occurs to her, "Wait... Verchovai, are you suggesting that Romana would be interested in me as a lover?" She grins ruefully up at Tashka, "Um... she's a princess, Verchovai... I'm just a Wild Dayallan." Brisa's smile is gently self-deprecating, "I'm not even a Verchovai... yet."
Tashka shrugs quietly, "And a wild Dayallan shouldn't be happy? But you asked the wrong question, Brisa. The question is -- are you interested in this easterner as your companion. What does your heart say?" Tashka continues quietly, "...and she's afraid what you'll decide if you think about it."
Brisa looks very puzzled. Being asked how she feels isn't part of her usual worldview. She frowns, wondering how they got to her emotions -- when what she really wanted to know was how to defeat His avatar! Very strange... but... apparently her emotions, for whatever inexplicable reason, are very important to both women here right now. She sighs softly, trying to puzzle things out... the Church must have just been... different or something in the Second Age. That's the only answer that makes sense to her... that, and she really doesn't want to hurt either of the two women here. She finally answers cautiously, "I... I am very sorry, Verchovai, but I am still not clear what a companion is... and until I know that I do not want to make any pronouncements that might accidentally hurt either Romishka's or your feelings... so... please, could you tell me again what a companion is?" She looks a bit bewildered, "How did you balance having a companion and a unicorn?" then adds a touch diffidently, "Um... by lovers you do mean having sex, da?"
Romana swallows, and then sits up. Slowly, carefully, she disengages Brisa's arm, gently standing. Her fingers trail upon Brisa's cheek, slipping along her jaw and then so close to her lips... before she just quietly walks away. She takes a few steps around the corner, down into the blue, star-shaded shadows... she doesn't say a word... out of sight. Tashka watches quietly as Romana takes her leave, leaving the two with what little privacy there is down here. "Lovers?" Tashka shrugs, "That's between two companions. Whether it's holding hands, kissing, partaking of each other..." She shrugs. "A companion is the one you want by your side. Friend. Swordsister. Sometimes even lover. And you don't give a companion what your would give... a husband."
Brisa murmurs unhappily, "Romishka...?" as Romana leaves, but doesn't stop her from leaving, if that's what she wants. She sighs, turning back to Tashka, still deeply unhappy looking, "Verchovai, I'm just a stupid peasant girl, da? I cared for the Kierkegaard's gravid mares and the newborn foals with my family when I was a child. I followed my Verchovai Poppy, and Lightning Hooves... please, I'm sorry, but I just don't understand what you're talking about here? I know I'm not good at this and I'm sorry that I haven't even been to the temple yet... but what you're saying doesn't sound at all like what I was taught, and I don't know what to believe any more!" She wraps her arms around her knees, resting her chin on them, and murmurs miserably, "...and I think I hurt mishka's feelings... and I really didn't want to do that..."
Tashka looks down, shaking her head. "I don't think you did. Maybe she's giving you time to think?"
Brisa sighs, not even bothering to look up at Tashka, "Think WHAT, Verchovai?! What am I supposed to be thinking?!"
"She's not a dumb lady, no matter what she is, Brisa." Tashka looks down the hall. "And I think what we are saying is that you can have a love, you just can't have a mate. But it's not for everyone, little one. It has to come from one's heart. Then you'll know if it's right or not."
Brisa shakes her head frustratedly, "What's the difference between a love and a mate? if you're doing it right, I mean... I mean, I've seen girls married off against their will, that's not what I'm talking about -- I mean the ones that are lucky and actually like the man they're married off to! -what's the difference there -- am I just missing something here?!" Brisa looks up a little indignantly, "Romishka is NOT dumb!" She sighs again, realizing that Tashka actually didn't infer Romana was dumb... then makes a small, frustrated growling sound, rubbing her face roughly... why are non-Dayallan women so damned confusing?! She thinks about that thought... then, remembering Poppy's inscrutable silences, and how often Tashka's comments have made little to no sense to her, grimly amends it -- why are WOMEN so darned confusing?!
Tashka shrugs, "Then just trust yourself. And trust her."
At least men are fairly simple and straightforward in their inability to see beyond the end of their egos, she frustratedly thinks, -except the ones that aren't afraid to see women as potential equals. She looks up in irritation at Tashka, "Trust her?! I do trust her! I didn't stop trusting her -- through this entire no-sense-making conversation! Why is this suddenly supposedly something new?! and why do I still not know what a thrice-starred companion is?!" She lowers her voice abruptly, with a guilty glance at Allena... then sighs, "Can't anyone give me a nice, clear answer any more?!" The grouchy thought occurs to her, no wonder so many Dayallans prefer unicorns as traveling companions! which she hastily stifles as not being fair to some of the nice folks she's met... and Lightning Hooves could be a cranky old grump sometimes...
Tashka lets out a long, long, soft sigh. She tries to move, but her chains just rattle. "Brisa, I'm trying... Brisa... do you think lovers can only be between a man and a woman?"
Brisa says, "Nyet." She sighs, realizing that not only is she all coiled up uselessly, but also she sounds sulky. She straightens out deliberately, leaning back against the wall, and meets Tashka's gaze, saying more politely, "Nyeh, Verchovai. But if you want children you'll need a male."
"And all the unicorns care about is that you don't do anything to have children." Tashka takes a breath. "And some companions are that close. Not all, but some."
Brisa frowns, opening her mouth -- then pausing, her eyes widening at that thought -- then hastily closes her mouth. She's silent for a bit, thinking furiously... then finally cautiously tries, "But... is that fair to the unicorns, Verchovai? -that their partners have a human to be close with, but they don't have..." She blinks, thinking... hmm. Do they or don't they? She really doesn't know... hesitantly she tries again, "Um... what do the unicorns do for when they need companionship and closeness, Verchovai?" She thinks firmly to herself that when she finally gets to the temple she really must study as hard as she can -- and learn all these important things she doesn't know yet!
Tashka blinks quietly. "No one's asked... save that in their lives we are but a single flicker of a candle flame."
Brisa nods thoughtfully... then curiously asks, "Why hasn't anyone asked? Doesn't anyone wonder as to why things like chastity are so important to them?" She adds curiously, "Are companions supposed to be taken to the temple then? Is that why you mentioned that before?"
Tashka lets out a long breath. "I don't understand myself. Crossfire never complained, and you don't look a gift unicorn in the mouth. And most times, Brisa, they are other Dayallans." Brisa looks up at Allena thoughtfully... then over at Tashka, and quirks an inquiring eyebrow at her? She frowns at a sudden thought, going still for a moment... then sighs a bit ruefully, and pats down her pouches until she finds a small, bright red, dried apple. She pulls her eating dagger and carves carefully on the apple while she waits for Tashka's answer. Tashka looks up, tears suddenly in her eyes. "Do you know why she's here, Brisa?" Brisa shakes her head mutely, faced suddenly with that kind of pain. "She can't fight, Brisa. She had no magic left. She only had a dagger. No training. But..." Tashka swallows. "But she stayed, so I wouldn't have to stand against Them alone." The elder Dayallan closes her eyes, her words a bitter curse. "And for that she's watched me die every bloody night for 250 years, and she's so scared of pain... but she... she never once... never, oh goddess, never once... said she wanted to be somewhere else." Tashka's eyes close even tighter. "How could I not fall in love with her?"
Brisa glances at Allena... then back to Tashka. She rises quietly, carefully laying her apple and the peelings aside, and simply gives Tashka a gentle hug. She can't think of any better way to comfort or assuage pain like that... except, she mentally thinks with fierce determination, by slaying that cursed rider. I will stop him, somehow... I must. Tashka leans quietly into the hug, and then she tries to straighten, shaking out her hair. "Goddess, I'm a Verchovai... I'm not supposed to break down like this. She might wake up, and I can't look weak for her."
Brisa smiles quietly, "Friends don't just take, Verchovai... they understand sometimes you have to lean too. I bet she'd understand." She pushes Tashka's hair back from her face gently, then says, in a simple, pragmatic effort to help Tashka feel better, "Want some apple peelings?" She holds up the apple a little shyly, adding, "D'you think Romishka will like it?" The little dried apple has been carefully carved so it looks a bit like a wrinkled, yellow-petalled, red-edged flower. A little sheepishly Brisa adds, "It... I know it's not very impressive but... well..." she smiles ruefully, shrugging, "-she's a princess, you know?" She sighs faintly, remembering the sparkling double handful of jewels and money she'd held for a few incredible seconds, and adds quietly, "I don't think there's anything I can give her that will impress her."
Tashka shakes her head quietly. "She'll love it, Brisa. Very much. Because it comes from someone she obviously cares about. And it's very impressive. I'm jealous, you know."
Brisa blinks, looking at the apple again, trying to figure out why a Verchovai would be jealous of her... it's... an apple, inexpertly carved. She wishes she could do better. She looks up puzzledly at Tashka, "Why, Verchovai?"
Tashka reaches out towards the other side of the hall... but the chains stop her grasp but a hand's span away from the cold stone. "Because, Brisa..." Tashka sadly nods, "I... don't even know what it's like to hold Allena's hand."
Brisa nods slowly, her gaze turning towards Allena... then she looks back at Tashka and says quietly, "Does she know? You should tell her if not, Verchovai... um, if it's not rude of me to be telling you that?"
A soft quiet expression falls upon Tashka's face, almost peaceful. "I think we both know. Every now and then I try telling her before I die. I never get to hear what her last words are."
Brisa pauses, thinking... then just nods quietly and turns, hands carefully holding the apple behind her back, to cautiously poke her head around the corner, looking for Romana. Is she there? Hopefully she won't mind company? Brisa feels... nervous, she realizes... like butterflies in the stomach. Strange... it's not like she has to face a lizard or anything! Around the corner Romana sits. She sits very properly upon a rock. Her knees are drawn up, arms wrapped about them. But her head is raised, and soft sapphire eyes smile once when Brisa steps into the hall. She looks like she was patiently, patiently waiting for something... someone. Brisa smiles uncertainly at Romana, then suddenly realizes she's not sure what to say! "Uhhmm... zhdrazvutsiya, mishka, umm... may I join you?"
Romana blinks quietly, and then she smiles,"Shahl'mheris'tan shahllashika Brisa'shka Romainishka'mahrishka." Her words are quiet, soft and sibilant, and so natural to her. Almost like music, their pace light and melodic. Then she just smiles, and brightly nods her head.
Brisa blinks! -wondering blankly what that meant... well, she didn't sound irritated... Brisa cautiously paces around the corner, apple still neatly tucked behind her, and carefully seats herself very properly on the rock next to Romana, "Um... spacebo, mishka."
Romana turns, shrugging her shoulders quietly. She smiles, bright and sure. "Romanas never been patient before."
Brisa says, "Umm..." How to put this... she coughs nervously, then tries again, "Romana!" She winces slightly -- maybe she shouldn't practically trumpet at the poor girl! Deep breath, try again... she ends up blurting out hastily, "-uh... so well so I know you're really a princess and I understand that no fun is boring and you don't like that and it's all right, I know I'm not very exciting and it's a bit boring what kind of life I lead and not for everyone and cold and hard in the winter and hot and sticky in the summer and no one in their right mind would want to do that all their lives but of course everyone knows Dayallans aren't really there anyways and so it was just that I was thinking, um..." a little panickedly she wonders -- how did she get to here in this conversation? Great Goddess, she's probably going to put her foot in her mouth if she keeps this up! She hesitates, mouth still open, then frantically decides discretion is the better part of valor -- and bites her lip -- then finally just proffers the apple.
Eyes growing wide, at first Romana is so lost and confused at the tumble of words. But then she concentrates, listening sharp, each word so important. She can't help but smile at the fast patter, trying to make sense of the rapid and twisted Imperial sentences. But then, then she looks down at the carved apple. The princess' breath catches, and she looks to Brisa incredulously, almost hesitant. But then she takes a second look, and bravely reaches out to drift her fingers light over Brisa's palm, to accept the little apple. She looks down, her black hair tousled, falling over so gentle shoulders like a midnight breeze. But then she looks up and whispers one honest word. "Beautiful."
Brisa blinks in relief -- she likes it! How did the Verchovai know she would? -- then adds shyly, "I... I'm sorry it's not nicer, kiska... I would've if I knew how... and had the stuff? ...umm..." she adds with quiet happiness, "I'm glad you like it..."
Romana looks down. She smiles shyly, just running her fingers over the carven surfaces, lifting to her cheek to touch and to sniff the scent of apple. But when she looks up again it's a little sad, looking at Brisa almost forlornly. "Romanas... Romanas have nothing for Brisa."
Brisa blinks a little incredulously at Romana, then smiles, "Mishka... just your being here is a gift." Her tone is soft as she adds, "I know... I understand you want to have fun, and probably someday I'll be boring... but... well..." she shyly runs a finger down one strand of silken dark hair laying across her arm, then adds hesitantly, "...um... I'll try my best not to be boring?"
Romana shakes her head, and then she swallows. "Romanas can't believe Brisa ever boring be." And then she looks to the Dayallan, her companion, her friend. One long heartbeat and then two, her eyes just falling into Brisa's shy gaze. "Wrong," she says quietly. "One thing... Romanas can give you." Her hand reaches out to lift Brisa's chin, graceful, smooth, and caring. With a very, very brave swallow, Romana places her soft lips upon Brisa's, her eyes slowly closing as she gifts her companion her kiss.
Brisa starts slightly! -then, a little awkwardly, cautiously, she tries returning the kiss... her first. She wonders a little wildly if she's even doing this right! -then sighs and decides it's a bit late now to worry about that... all Romana can do is sigh, her fingers slipping into Brisa's hair, so gently turning her face so they might kiss even closer. Soft, gentle, there's even a tremble as she accepts the innocent return. A breath, a second kiss, her own lips slowly parting, opening their first embrace.
Brisa feels like time is standing still and her mind is racing out of control -- she wishes a little frustratedly that she'd eavesdropped more on her older brothers, instead of just considering it all boring mushy stuff to be avoided -- she wonders if it's all right to put her arms around Romana -- maybe she wouldn't mind if Brisa ran her fingers through her hair? -- hesitantly she rests a hand cautiously on Romana's arm, silky hair spilling across it -- what soft lips she has! she'd never known lips could be so soft and warm, as delicate as a newborn foal's nuzzle -- she should be careful not to do something clumsy, considering how slender and graceful Romana is and how stumpy and bulky she is in comparison -- is she doing this right? -is she thinking too much?! -should she stop? -is this what Romishka was worried about earlier?
Romana shivers, her beautiful eyes still closed. Lost she is in the taste of Brisa's kiss, so new, so soft, their breath shared for so many heartbeats. One hand slips back to sift through soft hair, the other falling to discover the slopes and planes of Brisa's face and the arch of her neck. The tall easterner doesn't seem to mind any sign of clumsiness, but instead accepts it as a wonderful gift. At Brisa's touch she shifts, moving closer until her soft frame brushes Brisa's athletic figure and she dares to taste with her tongue the warmth of Brisa's lips -- and then to slip between.
Brisa sighs softly, worried, bemused, and shyly delighted, unsure what to do, finally putting her worries aside and surrendering to the moment. She wraps her arms around Romana, savoring the almost liquid spill of her silky hair across her hands, drawing Romana gently close, glorying in the soft/strong feel of her slender body leaning against her... and slowly, hopefully follows Romana's lead. Graceful, slender arms wrap about Brisa as far as they can reach, as if even the most modest touch were a heartbreaking memory to be always treasured. Brisa's taste, the scent of her hair, just the beat of her heart so close; and Romana shivers, delighted, no longer able to maintain the kiss, only able to leave a train of kisses down the line of Brisa's strong jaw, to bury her head against Brisa's neck, her hair a wild cascade, trying to remember how to breath. "Khhhyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." A one word sigh. "...marishkhya..." A one word prayer.
Brisa shudders, bewildered and delighted at the amazing tingling feelings galloping madly through her body -- this is more amazing than even riding a runaway in a windstorm! -than feeling the power racing through your body, sparking at your fingertips, crackling through your hair, and tossing your head back and laughing defiance into the wind, arms spread wide and the thundering horse beneath -- her arms tighten around Romana, almost clinging to her, and she gasps confusedly, trying to remember, herself, to breath, breath... is this what it's like?! Goddess, no wonder people seem to like it so much! -she feels like she could almost float! -up into the sky so everyone could see, see, see what an amazing and beautiful woman likes me?! -floating above Bordertown... Bordertown... she gasps again, although this one is different, and buries her face in Romana's wild, night-dark hair -- she must figure out how to defeat the chaos rider, she MUST, she couldn't bear to not learn more about this amazing thing, these astonishing feelings -- but first, unfortunately, the rider...
"...Brish'khya..." Romana's words so soft, lost in Brisa's arms; her eyes are still closed, as if opening them might wake her up from a dream. She can't help but nuzzle, not wanting at all to let go, surrendering herself into Brisa's fierce embrace until it is even obvious to Brisa that she is holding Romana and not the other way around. And that Romana is so perfectly happy for it to be that way.
Brisa takes a slow, deep breath -- what is that gentle scent drifting in Romana's hair? -she remembers it from previous nights, unconsciously inhaled into quiet, treasured memory -- soft silken strands drift across her face, finer even than Khari's shining, well-groomed coat -- reluctantly she straightens, raising her head, although if Romana doesn't pull away she willingly shifts so it's easier for the slender girl to rest against her, within the carefully gentle, protective circle of her arms. Softly she whispers, "Kiska... forgive me, please... but... if we do not defeat the chaos rider we will have no chances to try this again, when we have more time?" Her voice is both breathless and a little guilty sounding -- she certainly would prefer this to go on -- but duty, irritatingly, calls.
Romana smiles and stretches slightly, like a relaxing kitten, curling up quietly within Brisa's arms. In a sable cascade her soft hair falls over shoulders and softer curves, her head laying next to Brisa's collar, light and a perfect fit. Sapphire eyes still can't stop sparkling, and her broken Imperial whispers, still trying to catch her breath, "Kill one like him, old if he is still the one. Cunning like merebeasties we must be, devious and harsh, like playing game of court."
Brisa nods, her expression troubled and her arms close about Romana. Too many people, too many she cares for, for her to fail in this... "Da. I am afraid the fox in this case knows more of us than we do of it, though." She sighs gustily, then brushes her cheek in the faintest touch across Romana's hair and adds quietly, "Mishka, slatke... am thinking best it might be if we go and talk with Tashka... so that her learnings also can inform our planning."
Romana closes her eyes for the briefest moment, her own fingers loosely exploring the fall of Brisa's tunic. "Brish'khhya..." Romana smiles, delighting in the light, melodic tones. Slowly she rises, reluctant to leave Brisa's embrace. "That... probably most cunning. Or more cunning. Cunninger?" She frowns momentarily and shakes her head. "Romana goes where Brisa goes..."
Brisa lets Romana go, of course, when she rises, although Brisa's fingers trail lightly, perhaps a little reluctantly, across Romana as she does so. She smiles ruefully, a bit wistfully, then sighs amusedly at herself -- she'll just have to be sure there's a later, she thinks firmly to herself, if that's what Romana wants. "I think it is most cunning, mishka." If Romana doesn't seem to mind, Brisa will slip her hand into Romana's as they walk back around the corner.
Romana's long, slender fingers slip between Brisa's, entwined and curling warm. Soft, a half step ahead, but she can't help to look back to watch Brisa following, even to the point of taking a few light steps backwards down the hall, causing Brisa to smile in spite of her worry. Warm the easterner is beneath Brisa's touch, and there's even the slightest tinge of pink upon the tips of Romana's ears. And when they turn the corner Tashka lifts her head. She spies the two hand in hand, and while she chuffs out a short breath, wryly congratulatory, it can't help but be tinged by a hint of sadness as she glances across the hall. "May She watch over you both, Brisa..." Brisa smiles at Tashka, then settles carefully against the wall next to her, so that if Romana wants she can curl up comfortably against Brisa again. Romana does settle in, and with an almost desperate grace she drapes herself against her companion, her breath catching for a moment, still unbelieving that Brisa so close can be so real.
Brisa smiles quietly at Romana, putting an arm around her and gently tucking the cloak up about her so she's not cold. She sighs softly to herself... considering tomorrow's plan, they're all going to need a lot of watching over, she thinks. She tilts her head back, looking towards where the stars are, and smiles, thinking wryly, sure hope You're paying attention, Lady! Then she says, "Verchovai... am thinking we have much planning to do." She thinks a bit, then says carefully, "So far am coming up with the following ideas, but would greatly appreciate any suggestions on how to improve this." She holds up fingers as she makes her points, "Foot to foot I do not think I am as good as someone this old. So... first am thinking I will do my best to awaken the temple to our Lady's notice again. Then am thinking to petition Her to help you any way She can. Then me any way she can. By then should be near noon, if we do this right, and am thinking will be best time to call His rider -- before he can be all rested from last night." She sighs softly, "The rider will be mounted, so should not take long to arrive. I will try using all the magics I know on him out under Herself, and I am thinking also then might be best time to try asking Icicle also, mishka? -not to fight the rider -- but to grab him up, carrying him up as high as Icicle can go -- and then to drop." Her tight grin is cold, "If I cannot drop him down a well, maybe we can drop him in other ways." She takes a long, slow breath, then adds simply, "Then... if he is still coming... I will just have to fight him. I do not know if traps are good for him, because they cause him to bleed and grow stronger for it, or no." She glances at her two companions, adding, "I am hoping one of you knows this?" She quietly brushes her fingers through Romana's hair, tucking it back from her soft face... such lovely hair... as she waits for her friends to reply.
Romana slowly closes her eyes, shaking her head. "Icicle... Icicle makes cold... not tossed like wind... if Romanas had only played with Flamefang or Drowner instead of Whirlwinds. I am... sorry, Brisa." She is quiet for a long set of heartbeats; but then she looks up, "No. They bleed like Romanas and Brisas... and unless he has a marish..." Romana swallows and then very quickly continues, "No, Marin would want bleed and die, even of Marin's people, yes? More carnage, think carnage, then know how Marin act. Act single, like horde, not together like guard, for never know when one beside take in Marin's name."
Brisa gives Romana a puzzled glance, then takes a moment to parse through that, "So... how did you throw the hunting beasts up into the trees in the Forest of Roth, mishka? And what is a marish? Um... and what does 'take in Marin's name' mean? Do you mean His followers turn on each other sometimes?!"
"Of course..." is echoed by two voices at once, both Romana and Tashka simultaneously answering Brisa's final question. The two blink, Tashka giving Romana a dryly amused look. Brisa blinks, then grins at the echoed reply from both sides of her. Letting her fingers return to their slow explorations, tracing a soft pattern of little circles upon Brisa's tunic, Romana ducks her head just the littlest bit. She whispers very quietly, "...dohshhkhya... friend... tohshhkhya... friend one kisses... shashhhkya... friend one share bed... marishkhhya... friend one shares blood. But Marin arrogant, proud, strong. Never share marishkhhya." For a long set of heartbeats Romana is quiet again. But then she smiles, "Whirlwind like whirlwind. Whirlwinds like throwing in airs, like leaves from tree."
Brisa's silent, thinking for a bit... "So... it was Whirlwind that threw the hunting beasts up into the trees? And let me guess... you have to persuade Whirlwind to be a friend again now, da? Hmm..." she frowns thoughtfully, "-how do you persuade a Friend to be a friend, mishka? -and what does sharing blood do?" She adds a little puzzledly, "Is 'shka' friend? or a female signifier?"
Romana shakes her head quietly. "Need to find new name, seek out places of wind, find something for which Whirlwind might like as gift, as home... maybe week to do?" She looks up and quietly smiles. "Brish'khya... shka is friend, yes."
Brisa blinks, suddenly realizing that 'marishkhya' was one of the words Romana greeted her with when she walked around the corridor to talk to her... she wonders startledly what Romana said -- then firmly corrects herself -- translations later! For now learn about how to defeat tomorrow's monster! She sighs, "Pjalst, mishka, don't worry about Whirlwind then. So... cold..." She frowns, thinking, then just shakes her head resignedly, "Well then... I do not know what this will do to poor Icicle, but I guess the best thing is just to ask your Friend to do whatever it can to slay the rider... as bloodlessly as possible, I think."
Romana says, "If think Icicle best... I am sure Icicle will. Good little friend." Romana nods, shifting to snuggle just that little bit closer.
Brisa thinks a bit more as she accommodates Romana unconsciously, then sighs softly, "Nichyevo... so, I will try calling Her attention to Her temple, then to the Verchovai, then to me to attack His rider... and Icicle will do the best it can also. Traps..." She looks up, "-should traps be there or no? If the rider's blood is shed, does that help him?"
It is the Dayallan that speaks up, considering. "I'd say no. He gets power for causing carnage, not for being the victim of it. Else we'd have a tidal wave of little Marinites always following in his wake."
Brisa brightens, "First good news I hear tonight about planning! Good... then we will set many traps for him." She thinks a bit more, then says cautiously, "What sort of horse will put up with an avatar riding it? Is this more than horse? Specially bred horse? Something else?"
Romana laughs, a soft and light noise. "Just brave horse. Probably goes through so many, special ones all dead."
Brisa hmms, "Poor things." She frowns, troubled, then looks up at Tashka, "Verchovai... is it wrong to slay the horse, to stop the avatar?"
Tashka just looks down to Brisa with wide eyes. "Are you joking, Brisa?"
Brisa looks a bit worried -- is this yet another terribly obvious bit of theology that she's not learned yet? She hesitates, then says cautiously, "Nyeh?"
Tashka smiles softly. "Brisa, of course you kill the horse. It's probably trying to kill you after all. That's what war-horses do."
Brisa nods and shrugs a little sheepishly, "Was just thinking that it was likely it wasn't a war horse at all, if His rider is so impatient and immediate. Takes time and effort to train a good war horse, and you don't pass them around like candy, after all... and was feeling a little sorry for any poor horse stuck with the avatar anyways..." Her voice trails off, and then she hastily changes the subject, "Well then... am thinking trip ropes on the trail up, and maybe rocks to fall on the avatar, would help slow him down and give me more time to peg more arrows into him." She hmms... "Actually, if he is galloping to the hill and I am lucky, maybe a good shot can take the horse down and harm him in the fall... that would be good also."
Her fingers a soft caress, not knowing the difference between proper and not, Romana lets then drift, exploring the folds of Brisa's tunic. She shifts, the gentle movement sending her light hair a rippling wave. "Where best to fight him, Brisa?"
Brisa nods slowly, "Everywhere, mishka. To start as soon as we can see him, and not to stop until he or I fall. First to shoot at him as he comes to the hill... then a trip rope on the way up... rocks for others to push down on him, and maybe I can figure out more fire arrows and use those closer in. Hmm... Icicle is better inside or out, mishka? -and... maybe we can use stakes and nooses like we did with the lizard -- every little bit helps, after all... and... if after all that he still comes, well then..." She takes a deep breath, then starts slightly, catching Romana's fingers gently in her own, "-careful where you put fingers please, mishka-" she releases, then continues a touch breathlessly, "-then... then it will come to stand up fight, I guess." She frowns, "How close must he get to me to answer call, Verchovai?"
Tashka shakes her head. "That's his territory. You think he's going to come alone, Brisa?" She shakes her head, sighing. "He could be on the other side of the Black Mountains, Brisa, and he would have to find you. He'd just take longer to get there."
"But Romanas are being careful?" Romana blinks, confused. But then she shrugs gently, wrapping her fingers with Brisa's. "But Tashkas corrects."
Brisa gets an exasperated look, "Wait now... only a few moments ago you said he'd be coming alone because his other folks would be attacking the town. So... which is it?!"
Shking her head, Tashka sighs again. "Apologies... maybe yes, maybe no... it depends on how what is happening outside is going on." She frowns quietly. "Choose where you fight well, Brisa. Because if you give him a way around you He'll find it."
Brisa nods, still looking exasperated, "Da, of course. Why you think I am trying to think up so many traps? Is because I expect some will not work. Choosing when to fight is obvious... but according to you and Romana noon is the best time to do so... so I am thinking there's not much choice there, da? So, I try again. Clear answers are good, da? How close does the rider have to get to have answered the call? Does he have to just see me, or kill me, to have answered it? And if I am moving, must he follow?"
"Noon is best." Tashka nods. "And he has to kill you, little one, to free him. He can't even run away if he's losing the fight." She laughs, "I never thought of that. He'd have to follow you."
Brisa sighs, looking relieved, "Bol'shoye... more good news. Spacebo, Verchovai... all right then. So he must follow me. Hmm... now how to get to some place where he cannot reach me, but I can reach him..."
Romana nods, "It has been done. Once ran through Kh'lhy'ra streets. Very, very bloody, songs said. Then again, the streets very crowded.
Brisa says, "Top of the tower?" She blinks at Romana, then nods a touch grimly, "I will keep that in mind, Romishka... not where innocents could be harmed. So... maybe not top of tower... but where..." She grins suddenly, "He is straightforward, straight line and immediate, da? So... if he can see me and I am on the steepest side of the hill... will he try to come straight at me?"
Romana sighs, smiling. "Arrogant."
Brisa gets a suddenly thoughtful look, "...'rutting heart'... does he think less if he thinks an easy kill is ahead? Can he tell if it was the Verchovai or another that called him?"
Tashka blinks, quiet. "Of course he'd go after a bloody easy kill first. Carnage, Brisa. And yes. He knows who calls him."
Brisa nods thoughtfully... then sighs, "Bozehmoi. Well. I am thinking there is not much more I can learn to help this makeshift plan unless one of you remembers something else. So far plan is to set traps, then call for Dayalla's attention, then to call the avatar... and then hope attrition, Icicle, and Dayalla's wrath will whittle him down enough that I can perhaps take him down." She shrugs fatalistically, "Nichyevo," then repeats her question to Romana, "So, Icicle is better inside or outside, mishka?" She glances up at Tashka, adding, "What suggestions can you give me to help attract Her attention, Verchovai? Does she most like... burnt offerings? Sincere prayers, runes, facing the east, what?" She adds quietly, "How can I help you get your magics back, Verchovai?"
Tashka shrugs quietly. "She is one of order, Brisa. Strength, dedication, sound set of mind, oaths. Wells Her symbol, horses our steeds, the circle of time Her rune. That is the essence of a Temple, Brisa. Hers. The only sacrifice she asks is ours." At the last question Tashka shakes her head quietly. "Find me a priestess, Brisa. That's the only way. I would have to sacrifice. The last of my strength."
Brisa nods quietly, "I... will do my best, Verchovai."
Romana blinks. And then she considers. "Now? Outside warmer than Icicle. Icicle inside, be nastier."
Brisa nods, "Thought so. Good. So... while Icicle is attacking the rider is it best for others to keep their distance or can they help attack?"
Romana considers, pursing her lips. "Not close with daggers and swords, but far aways better. Within Icicle, Icicle doesn't care who... hurts all."
Brisa nods quietly, leaning her head back against the wall and thinking, the fingers of one hand tracing light, delicate touch-patterns in the palm of one of Romana's hands... finally she murmurs softly, absently, "What does marishkhhya mean, mishka? What is a friend one shares blood with?"
Romana shivers quietly at the gentle touch. She looks up, leans forward, so she can kiss Brisa's fingers. "It's when... one shares blood. One can share strength."
Brisa raises an eyebrow, barely keeping her fingertips from twitching slightly at the almost ticklish, tingly feeling, and whispers softly, "That must be... very close..." She sighs softly, savoring the moment as much as she can -- with the specter of tomorrow looming over her.
Romana closes her eyes, leaning forward, like a cat letting her kisses steal up Brisa's fingers to her palm. "It's more than beloved. Brisa. For most, just a dream."
Brisa breaths softly, "How so, slatke? What does it mean?" She watches the silky dark hair cascade smoothly across her lap and blinks slowly, her free hand hovering over it, not quite willing to touch in case it's not really there... like a dream... maybe all this is a dream, and she'll wake up in the morning with just the chaos rider ahead of her. Still, she thinks a little wistfully... even if she is actually asleep at her post... what a lovely dream with which to face the morrow!
Romana leans forward and takes Brisa's hand in both of hers. She turns her wrist until she can softly kiss it, warm and open. "Brisa wrist cut... Romana wrist cut. Our blood together is... when weak, Brisa Romana strength take... Romana hurt, Brisa I might call. It means. Forever trust, Brisa."
Brisa nods quietly, watching with a faint wonder. Softly, a little bemusedly, she says, "How... how can Easterners dream of forever, mishka, if they're quickly bored?" She shivers slightly, and touches Romana's ebony fall of hair with her fingertips, the lightest caress, savoring the silky coolness of it.
Romana's breath catches then, her sable hair flowing all over Brisa's waist and hips, the lightest wave, a wisp of a dream. Closing her eyes, she just slowly lets her head fall, until her lips press against Brisa's wrist, her palm, the ball of her thumb, slow, soft, and open. A quiet whisper, "Easterners contrary." She then returns to her explorations, following each finger one at a time.
Brisa's breath escapes her in a soft gasp, half laughter, and half astonishment. Her thoughts are getting messed up and she's finding it hard to concentrate on tomorrow's battle... especially when Romana's kisses are sending sharp, electrifyingly pleasant tingles to portions of her body that she didn't even know were connected to her fingers! She blinks again, suddenly aware by a faint *chink* of the Verchovai next to her... this isn't fair to her at all, Brisa thinks guiltily -- she should tell Romana to stop...
Well... she would if her mouth and tongue would work... she seems to be having trouble talking! She shivers slightly again, then with a sudden burst of effort she curls both arms around Romana, gently pinning her close long enough to softly gasp to her, "Mishka, slatke, please... may I ask you to save this for tomorrow? After? Please?" Her voice is softly amused and rueful, "Would be excellent impetus to succeed, I am thinking?"
Blinking, her eyes closing, Romana takes a long, soft, quiet breath, "Brish'khyaa... " She folds her cheek into Brisa's palm, her kisses vanishing like a minstrel's ballad, the last chords unfinished. She just buries her head against the Dayallan, shivering for such a long, long moment. "Romanas... Romanas... just..." She quiets then and nods. "For looking forwards to."
Brisa blinks, looking faintly concerned at Romana's shivering, and pulls the cloak up around her with one hand, then just holds her close, to share warmth. Softly she murmurs against Romana's hair, "I'm sorry, mishka... I'm just afraid that if I don't concentrate I'll forget something vital for tomorrow..." She sighs quietly, then just holds Romana quietly close.
Romana nods quietly. "Just wanted to make Brisa feel as good... like on air, float, feet off the grounds." She considers, quiet. "But... what if... something happen. I... I... would miss you. And regret."
Brisa can't bear the thought of failing... she'll have to plan in an escape, if necessary, for everyone else. At least she doesn't have to worry about Tashka and Allena in that situation -- they'll come back the next day regardless. The others though... someone must escape to take word of this to the temple. She sighs softly, her breath brushing Romana's hair faintly, then smiles ruefully, "Believe me, mishka, I'm having trouble staying on the ground right now!" She takes a deep breath, then adds quietly, "Romishka... I need to ask a very important favor of you. If something happens... if I fail... I need someone to take the news of both the Kierkegaard's son, and of Tashka and Allena here, to the Dawnview temple." She gently slips a finger under Romana's chin, so she can gaze directly into Romana's sapphire eyes. "Romana... will you do this for me, please?"
Romana blinks, her breath catching. And when she looks up her eye are shimmering, as if Brisa's words cut beyond her heart to her very soul. Softest sapphire, damp in the cool night air. "Brish'khhya... please not ask Romanas that... Romanas... Romanas would be Brisa's Allena."
Brisa bites her lip, feeling horrible suddenly for making Romana cry... she hugs Romana tightly, trying to be reassuring, and a little desperately adds, "But... but you'd live then, mishka! I... I don't want you to be hurt because of me..."
So tight does Romana hold Brisa, her head buried now against the Dayallan's neck, pressing her lithe body so hard, as if her entire length might hug her companion. Her words are breathless, shorn. "Not because of Brisas... for Brisas." Romana's words are hot against the soft skin of Brisa's neck, the brush of her lips moist. "Please. Will if say. But please. Not leave Brisas."
Brisa shivers in fright and worry for Romana, and opens her mouth to tell Romana she has to go if something happens... and then... simply... can't. Her voice fails her. She swallows, and tries again, her voice husky, "Mishka, I want... I want you to be safe..." Her voice trails off as her gaze falls on Allena, sleeping in her chains across the hallway from them. Do I really want... that, an eternity of pain and boredom, for Romana? or even just a messy, brutal, pointless death?! She opens her mouth again to firmly order Romana to go should something happen... and her voice betrays her again. She sags slightly and just sighs a bit defeatedly. Her whisper is painfully controlled, "Mishka... I don't want you to go either... but I don't want -- don't want you to be stuck in an eternity of pain either." Tightly she adds, "How can I ask you to stay, with that as a possibility?"
Closing her eyes, Romana presses her lips against Brisa's neck, a hot and desperate kiss. And when she is finally done, the young easterner lifts her head to meet Brisa's gaze. Her eyes damply sparkle, her arms looped around Brisa's neck. "Then don't ask go... don't ask stay, trust Romana."
Brisa sighs, her arms tightening slightly around Romana, still horribly worried and frightened for her... but she can feel her resolve slipping in the face of Romana's tears. A little desperately she finally says, "Well... if... if there's nothing you can do you should go, right? I mean, that's reasonable, da?" She takes a short, gasping breath and hugs Romana tightly, tightly close, burying her face against Romana's soft hair, her voice muffled, "Just... just be careful, da, slatke?"
And suddenly once again Romana is in Brisa's arms, close and tight, as she tightens her arms about Brisa, her lips brushing Brisa's cheek, ending nuzzling the Dayallan's ear. "Thank you... Romanas... Romanas... promises Brisa Romana so, so smart and careful be." She hugs so tight, as tight as a princess might. But then she whispers, her breath upon Brisa's hair, her lips teasing the curve of Brisa's ear. "Must promise... must promise Brisa also smart be. No dying without Romanas."
Brisa's breath leaves her in a rueful, worried, half-gasping laugh, partly from bleak amusement and partly from the sheer, tingly, delightful shock of a lapful of Romana, "Goddess, mishka... believe me, I don't want to die tomorrow! Not when I'm finally starting to learn so many wonderful things!" Her smile is a bit wistful as she adds, "I promise, mishka, I will do my best to be as smart and cunning as I can be."
Tucked close and delightfully curled, Romana lets out such a deep breath, as if the weight of all the Black Mountains had suddenly lifted. "Oh, Brish'khya... two smart... two cunning... we will be together come sunset. Romana promises." Her arms wrap tight, the press of Brisa's athletic figure sending a definite shiver from head to her toes. Romana gently nuzzles, her kisses upon soft hair, soft skin, the curve of Brisa's ears. Just holding close, not wanting to let go. Brisa blinks, not sure why Romana's so sure, but quite willing to let her enthusiasm be enough for both of them currently. She smiles quietly and wearily, closing her eyes for just a moment, and simply exists in the pleasure of the moment... for tomorrow she may die.