Only The Blessed [m]

Draconian · June 29, 2015, 03:08:45 AM

( @Lion ENJOY MY WORD VOMIT <3 ) Now M rated! For nekkid Shoulders.

It was on one of the more far away cities, but still, it warranted an investigation from the church. Sunniva was not pleased to have been chosen, in fact it had always felt a bit like a subtle insult, being the one who was sent to healers. Miracle healers who made their abilities public. It was always either mages or a con. This particular person was claiming to heal lost limbs and so she had been volunteered with a small group to go to this particular town and... Shut it down. As per usual when it came to suspected mages or con artists.

There was little room for miracles and if she herself didn't experience them almost daily she would have lost her faith long ago.

The second day of travel always had her irritated and tired. The guides - hand picked guards from the church - were quiet and every time she tried to strike up conversation she was rudely ignored. Of course they were still there, she could hear them breathing. The sound of a river was off in the distance and she turned her head to listen to it, something to break up the monotonous noise of horse hooves against dirt and cheap road. A loud forlorn sigh from Sunniva and she itched at her neck.

Orders were to change into commoners clothing and continue on, it wouldn't do well to alarm the people that she - A knight of the white lily - was on her way to investigate this mysterious healer. So, she was dressed in plain clothing, breeches, a loose white shirt and an awful wooly too-big cloak that she was sure she looked just hideous in. Something this itchy couldn't possibly look nice. Finally, instead of the hood she had a soft cloth tied around her head to cover her eyes, her fiery red hair loose and flowing down her back in thick waves.

Sunniva hated it. She wanted her hood back. She wanted her hair out of the way.

It wasn't until too late she realize there was a cross bow bolt lodged into the metal chest piece she'd snuck on under her shirt. Slowly her hands - gloved by some not so awful fabric - went to it and she gasped, her head turning up reflexively though she saw nothing. No one. The sound of a cross bow and another bolt. The horse she was on gave a shrill cry and the sounds of a fight breaking out and before she knew it she was falling.

So was the horse.

Had they been so close to the ledge? The bolt snapped off, leaving the metal tip in her armor and before she realized what was really going on there was a terrible weight on her legs and the sound of someone making their way down. Sunniva took a breath and calmed herself, and then she saw. Trees, a steep hill, a river. There was no her though, not yet, that meant he couldn't see her.

He was going to kill her.

Panic set in and she reached towards the horse which was far too light and pat at it until she found a few bolts. Many bolts. One lodged into the saddle dangerously close to where her leg had been. There was no time though and in a moment of desperation she stabbed herself in the neck with it, enough to bleed at least when she pulled it away - it would hurt for a while but she wasn't going to die from it.

There she was. Laying on the ground, pinned under the dead horse, holding a bolt at her neck. Looking deathly pale with that bright red hair fanned out around her head like a crown of sunbeams. Now was the time. Yanking the bolt away she tossed it aside and held at her neck, letting the blood seep between her fingers while she panted and reached forward towards the sound of foot steps.

"Help me," she cried weakly, giving a quiet pant, a soft sob, playing down just how well she was doing.

Hesitation in the foot steps, a shuffle of dead leaves, the snap of a twig and she felt a hand on her face, tearing at the blindfold before her head landed hard against the ground. Her hand was violently ripped away from her neck and the cloth was smeared with the blood, Sunniva made a point of not resisting.

Then he left. The footsteps retreated. A cry of victory from above and all she was left with was the sound of the river and the warm blood of a dead horse slowly going down the hill and up her back. Just the sounds of the river. With more strength than she thought she'd ever possess she slipped from under the horse, taking a moment to calm herself before she slowly rose, taking note of any aches and pains.

The worst was self inflicted and still dripping down her neck.

Right now she needed to live. So, she began to walk slowly back towards the way she'd come, staying as close to the river as she could with the blood stained clothes sticking to her skin and the metal chest piece. It wasn't until she saw the trees that she stumbled, landing hard on her hands and knees at being so disorientated.

It was a sign.

Sunniva heard noises. Enough for one person. Maybe two.

"Wait!"

Standing up quickly, weary, she didn't know how long she'd been walking, but part of her was frantic. "Wait, please, wait!" Her hands in front of herself to help her find her way back to the cheap road and there she stood, a bloodied mess, sweaty, dirty. Arms out to stop the person. Persons? "I am a Knight of the White Lily and there was an attempt on my life, I demand you take me to the nearest... Where ever immediately."

It was a miracle she was even alive. Sunniva was truly blessed by God.

She had also been blessed with stupid weak willed assassins that wanted nature to do their dirty work.

Lion · July 04, 2015, 10:42:17 PM

[I actually did enjoy your word vomit. Well done.]

He was there for one thing only. Find the mage and drag him back. Alive if possible, but dead if necessary. Mercuxio personally preferred alive. It made for the extraction much more efficient. There wasn't a lot you could get from a dead person, save from the usual. He'd been tracking this man for weeks. And he knew there was only so far he could run.

This was where he was hiding, and this was where he would be rooted out. Or so was the plan. Mercuxio dismounted his horse. The black steed chuffed and wiggled his nose against Merric's head. The priest turned to look at him, patting the animal's cheek with a gloved hand. The day was quiet and he stopped off at a small clearing just a stone's throw from the road. But even that one was rarely tread. This was not a well-trodden path, and even the nearest town was a secluded hamlet that was not even on a map.

Not anyone else' maps anyway. Mercuxio unfurled his and examined it on against the horse's saddle. He mused quietly until he heard something that resembled a scuffle a few hundred yards away. In his immediate vicinity, he saw no one, not a body, not a soul. And just as quickly as the noises began, they ended.

Perhaps it was none of his business, and it was better to keep it that way. Better to not let anyone become aware of his presence. He led his horse slowly over to the nearby river. Water was always the best place to start. He moved toward the rushing stream, stopping at the bank and leaning down, pulling off his glove to take as drink at the crisp clear water. The horse did the same, lapping at it until he had his fill.

Mercuxio had rode all day earlier and all before that. He could use a rest, perhaps a bath even. He dunked water all over his face and hair, feeling hot in his armor and sticky. The one drawback of extended travel. He was determined to have this task executed quickly. He didn't have patience to wait around.

"Wait!"

He turned his head up and his eyes widened in alarm. A stranger draped in blood and speaking maddeningly and frantically stood before him. By instinct his hand flew to the weapon at his belt, but did not unhook that mace. Not yet. Slowly, he stood, as quietly as possible for it seemed this woman did not have her senses about her.

She could be bait after all, meant to ensnare the Confessor in a trap.

But in her desperation, it soon became clear she was not. Mercuxio slowly stepped forward, still wary, eyes checking his peripherals, and when he was near her, he slowly reached for her hands. "Don't fret," he murmured. "I'm a priest of the Church. Let me see your wound."

Draconian · July 05, 2015, 12:11:17 AM

Blind as she was, her hands shot out and smacked his away though quickly, frantically she grasped for it. Holding her head down, Sunniva gave a sigh of relief and sank to her knees, pressing her forehead to his hand, her wounds would heal, but now she was grateful that not only had someone helped her, it was a priest.

"Thank God for you, Priest." Sunniva said before giving his hand a kiss and standing up, turning her head to present the self inflicted wound on. "They killed my horse, besides scrapes and bruises I am mostly unharmed. I did this to myself to make them think they shot me in the neck." Her hand went to her neck to touch at the wound, deep but not lethal. The blood had stopped, but it was tacky and dripping down her top.

Lion · July 05, 2015, 01:02:50 AM

Mercuxio remained still, as she scrambled for his hands and he turned his palms up to grip her hands, firmly but gently. Ice blue eyes inspected her features and where the blood dripped from. Had she stabbed any further in, she likely would have bled herself out. Still, it was a wound that could suffer the threat of reopening.

"Come, let me wash away the blood," he said, his voice calm, despite the quick connection of alarm that echoed through him. The scuffle and the violent noises. Now it made sense. He helped her up, helping her keep balance and kneeling beside the river, cupping the water in his hands and cupping it against her neck.

He whispered a soft prayer, and his hands turned warm, initiating the healing properties of the blessing of Sanctus. A gift that, thankfully, could be shared with another, if only for a moment. "Tell me of these assassins. Are they gone? Or do they remain in the area?" he asked, peering up a moment to look around just in case.

Draconian · July 05, 2015, 01:26:38 AM

Sunniva pulled her hair over to the other side of her neck and let the priest help her, giving a sigh of relief. There was no resistance when he moved her to cup water to her neck and she pulled her long red hair out of the way, the tips having gotten wet in the river. "They rode away." Her voice was soft and while everything in her screamed for revenge, she knew that, in the presence of another holy person, it wouldn't do well to ...

Well. Want someone dead.

"One of them came to finish the job, but I was pinned under my horse." Sunniva removed her gloves and pressed her hands into the cool water, pressing them to her face, "He sought to let fate end me, but I am blessed by Ansgar again and... Now I'm here. We were farther ahead." Sunniva bit her lip after a moment, "Headed to a village where a healer is claiming to fix any ailment. I don't know... It might be the whole group. They may have switched with my guards or..." A heatbeat, silence, " they were my guards."

Lion · July 05, 2015, 02:05:04 AM

When he pulled his hand away, Mercuxio saw that her wound had healed. Good, one less thing to worry about. Looking upon her again, he listened for a moment, eyes no longer concerned with the threat of assassins. Well, not immediately anyway. Things could always turn for the worst when one least expected it. That was usually the best time for things to go bad.

He exhaled slowly, thoughtfully. "The village nearby, Kathrenac," he said. "A healer? And there you expected to do what, exactly? Whatever they were, their task failed and you are alive. What is your name?"

Draconian · July 05, 2015, 02:16:31 AM

Healed. Sunniva pressed her hand to her neck, her eyebrows drawing together and her mouth pulling into a frown. That wasn't magic. If she could have looked at him in wonder she would have, instead she simply pressed her fingers to where the wound was and stayed silent. "I was sent there because the healer is a mage," she frowned, "Claiming to regrow limbs. Give back sight. I couldn't let them lie to the people because even though Ansgar is a giving and a wonderful God he can't do miracle such as that." If he could she would have her eyes. Sunniva frowned and rubbed her hands on her pants, turning away for a moment, running her fingers through her bright red hair.

"I am Sunniva Avarali, Knight of the White Lily." She stood up, her shoulders squared and facing ahead. "I need to report that my guards are traitors," She hissed the word like it tasted foul, her face turning sour. "They tried to kill me, I must see justice."

Lion · July 05, 2015, 10:43:14 AM

The healer was a mage huh. And she'd meant to track him and exterminate him herself? This clearly was not a job for a White Lily. "A healer? His name wouldn't happen to be Desmond Crane would it?" he asked gently.

Draconian · July 05, 2015, 12:14:01 PM

A name?

"Maybe? I'm sure I was told at some point, I was sent to investigate but then they put this awful outfit on me and I've found myself too itchy to even think." As if realizing that what she was wearing was extremely itchy - now also sticky and covered in horses blood - Sunniva's hands went to her neck to itch at the neckline. It was still covered in blood. So was she.

It only made her uncomfortable feeling though and at least she wouldn't have to have the bloodstains washed from these clothes. Still why wasn't he more angry someone tried to kill her? Sunniva was very sure he would be furious if someone killed his horse and left him for dead. "You don't care that someone tried to kill me? You seem far too interested in this mage," She spat the word out like it was dirty. Why didn't this priest care about her. She was covered in blood, her only mode of transportation was dead. Sunniva's day was ruined.

"Who are you?" Her hands went to her hips and she gave her head an inquisitive tilt, "Really."

Lion · July 05, 2015, 10:57:23 PM

What the hell were the Lilies thinking? That they could send out a contigent of guards and one lone White Lily and except them to just waltz on through the forest without someone getting suspicious. At this point, Mercuxio had no doubt that the mage she was after was certainly the one he was after. Indeed, it was best to get her out of the way and leave the work to someone better suited for the job.

"I am a priest," he repeated, sighing a little. "Ansgar was watching you this day, Knight." He squeezed her hand. "I am Father Mercuxio. I agree it is best to get you out of the wilderness to safety. You're clearly shaken. Here, let me help you stand. And stop scratching yourself, you'll only make your anxiety worse."

Draconian · July 05, 2015, 11:49:44 PM

When he offered to help her stand she pulled her hand away, giving him a face. Sure there were no expressive eyes, but her mouth was pulled into a frown and her eyebrows were drawn together. Then she stood up, sticking her chin out as if challenging him to help her again, "I'm not itchy because I'm anxious, I'm itchy because this is awful fabric." Sunniva snapped before she pulled at the large shirt, whipping off the soaked garment to reveal the metal chest piece she wore underneath. The dent on the side from the bolt that should have killed her if she hadn't lied about not wearing armor.

Onto the ground the itchy wool shirt went like garbage. The smell of blood was strong and she sniffed at her hands before sighing and going back onto her knees to stick them in the stream, swishing them around to get the blood off. She recognized his name but kept quiet about it and eventually she stood up again, pressing her hands to the armor chest piece she wore. "I've got my bearings about me now, Father Mercuxio. I've calmed some, please," Sunniva motioned to the river and turned, walking slowly until she touched a tree.

Sitting down at the base she took a breath and rubbed at her arms, "Continue as you were, I imagine you've been traveling for a while and would like to partake in the river, yes? It seems we've both had things ruin our days. I promise not to watch." A hint of a smirk at her little joke and she reached down to pluck at some grass, playing with it between her fingers.

If he wasn't going to care about people trying to kill her - perhaps it was part of a greater scheme? - then what use was it if she worried about it.

Lion · July 06, 2015, 02:28:27 AM

Mercuxio stared at her undressing in itchy desperation, eyes narrowed and slightly annoyed at her trivial antics. Certainly the shirt was bothersome, ignoring the facts that she'd just been attacked. And she was bothered that his concern wasn't more concrete. He inwardly sighed. Lilies were certainly not suited for activities such as these.

At her recovery, he simply bowed his head - not that she'd see it. Merric tilted his head thoughtfully, shaking his head. "No. No," he murmured. "You were the one has just suffered an attack. I believe you need the river more than I do. That dent...where the bolt struck I imagine won't help your breathing any. You ought to take that cuirass off. Then I will promise not to look."

He bowed again to her, and turned back to the saddle, moving some items around and considered for a moment simply leaving her here. She would find her way back no doubt. And how would she know he was simply gone? She obviously couldn't see. But he stopped that line of thought. He was a priest, and he made an oath to help others in need.

So he pulled the herbs and a roll of bandages from the saddlebags instead and turned back to Sunniva, kneeling beside her, and waiting for her to remove her armor. His eyes remained focused on where the cuirass had been dented. And just as he suspected there was bruising along that side.

Draconian · July 06, 2015, 02:51:50 AM

"Yes, Father." The tone she took was more like a grumpy child talking to a parent and she went about with the buckles, fingers working quickly and skillfully. Though, she didn't remove it completely until she heard the man kneel beside her. A simple sleeveless shirt was worn under the cuirass and she boredly pulled up the side, exposing pale skin marred by a red mark, slowly turning darker with a bruise.

"It doesn't feel terrible, and I do hope you're wearing gloves, I'd have for you to touch my bare delicate flesh." Sunniva didn't explain why to avoid skin contact, though she'd hoped the right usage of the words would make him avert all contact past patching up her bruise. He was a priest, surely just the word 'delicate flesh' would send him blushing into the trees.

(( I'll tell you though! =D Skin contact has her seeing peoples pasts. So, if he ain't wearing gloves slap up a random old memory for her to see. It'll be fun, promise. ))

Lion · July 06, 2015, 06:08:11 PM

[I'm just going to assume he isn't aware she is seeing this]

The salve was first evenly spread across one bare palm and he let it make his hand sticky. The balm was cooling against bare skin, having a eucalyptus scent to it. Merric kept one glove on, because he'd neglected to take it off when she arrived. He said nothing, only gave a glance at her regarding her remark and pressing his hand against the forming bruise.

At his touch she would see the images of a kiss, a hungered one between a young man and a young woman. The sound of heavy breath, pants, lips brushing against one another. Hands wrapped around one another, groping and shifting through parted clothing, revealing a breast and a mouth pressing hotly against it.

And the image would vanish when he took his hand away, wiping off the excess salve and he wrapped the bruise with cloth. "To secure it. It will help soothe any soreness that comes with it."

Draconian · July 06, 2015, 07:03:08 PM

[you're such a good sport. : D and no, he wouldn't know she was seeing that]

A quiet hitch of breath and the memories warred with reality. Sunniva knew the priest (was he really?) was helping her, though the brief moments he had his hand on her side... If she could go anymore red. Blushing wasn't a flattering look on her, but wen she remembered her mouth on a breast. A breast of all things. It was his mouth but for the few moments it was her mouth and as soon as the memory went away she simply... Went quiet.

There was lots of things to say but she needed him. At least for a little while. Still, Sunniva was very red and finally she cleared her throat. That memory would haunt her forever. Of all the things for her to get it had to be something as disgusting as... Eugh. "I request you keep further contact to a minimum, Father Mercuxio." A moments pause, "but thank you for the help, regardless."

Slowly, Sunniva rose her hand to her mouth to wipe away the ghost of feeling. Also because she'd rather think of how awful the back of her hand tasted that remember the memory. "May I ask from what age you've been a priest?" Maybe he's lived a full life and finally saw the way.

Or he was just a terrible person. Both were possibilities.

Lion · July 06, 2015, 07:31:44 PM

"As you wish, Knight of the White Lily," he replied in complete agreement. Merric washed his hands in the river, slipping his gloves back on before wrapping up the remains of the herbs and salve. Beat to not let that get completely dried out before it could be fully utilized. "What?" a glance back at her, when her question caught him somewhat off guard.

What difference did it make what age he was when he joined the priesthood? The question it seemed, was not so harmless. Or perhaps Merric had taught himself always to suspect the worst in most places. He put the herbs away, stashing them back in the saddlebags, gloved hand idly patting the cheek of his horse.

"Nineteen," he answered, turned back to Sunniva. "Why do you ask, Miss Avarali?"

Draconian · July 06, 2015, 08:19:45 PM

Hm.

Terrible person then, well he could be a lovely person. Terrible priest. No matter, it wasn't any of her business and she quickly had to come up with some excuse or another. Slowly, Sunniva stood up and moved toward Mercuxio, careful not to trip. "I'm only curious. I've been with the church since I was seven. You sound old and seem worldly and I've always been interested in other people," a feigned shrug and she reached her hand out slowly, her finger tips brushing the velvety nose of the horse. "What's his name?"

Lion · July 06, 2015, 11:02:23 PM

The horse chuffed a little at Sunniva's unfamiliar contact. He wiggled his nose however, correcting her hand so that she pet the right spot. The black stallion was as astute as his rider and owner and although wary of the blind knight, he did not stir in displeasure. Another wiggle of his nose and he was expectant of proper scritches.

"Titus," he answered, gloved hand combing through the horse's mane. "Shall we get you through these woods to a town proper, Miss Avarali?"

Draconian · July 06, 2015, 11:15:45 PM

A grin on her face and the unwanted memories were replaced by her trying to recall what horses looked like. Still, Sunniva gave Titus proper scritches and turned her head slightly towards Mercuxio's voice, the smile faded. Right. This wasn't about petting a horse. This was about getting back to safety. Or something like that. A small part of her felt guilty about the horse she'd been riding, dead on the side of a hill.

The other part was just glad it hadn't crushed her legs or killed her with it. "Of course. I would greatly appreciate that." Her hand dropped from the horses nose and she backtracked slightly back to where her cuirass was laying on the ground. Quickly she felt around for the dent, sighed and pulled it back on, pulling her long red hair from inside the armor. Sunniva assumed she looked as silly as she felt without that giant itchy woolen sweater.

"Alright. Am I to walk beside you while you ride your horse? I'm afraid I'd need a piece of string to hold onto so that I might follow you," Her voice wasn't biting - she also hadn't picked up the shirt - but the smirk on her face would hint to a Not So Sensitive person that she was teasing.

Lion · July 06, 2015, 11:46:05 PM

"Only if it pleases you. I understand close proximity to anybody is prohibited," Mercuxio said, climbing up into the saddle and pulling the reins into one hand. He turned in the saddle and smiled at the knight, but turned the horse around her and offered her a gloved hand. "Just above your face is my hand, grab it and I'll you up to ride behind me. Unless you prefer to walk. That is up to you."