They Have Gone [M]

pomelo · March 20, 2016, 06:31:22 AM

@visualspice

Dahlia Gray sat on the bed in the room the servant had led her to, her knees wrapped tight against her chest. A fire had already been lit in the Highheart guest quarters, and the small but comfortable room had a warm glow. But Dahlia felt very, very cold. It had taken considerable persuasion to convince the woman that what was best for her now was rest. That she couldn't go out just then into the dangerous night of the war. That it wouldn't do anyone any good. That guards had already been sent out, and servants with dogs, and the locals had been alerted. But she couldn't believe it. And she couldn't rest. She was safe inside the house of Lord Edward Draven...

...but her children were out there, missing in the night.

Her heart pounded loudly, echoing in her head, as her grey eyes stared glassily at the fire. How had this happened? She'd been worried since since they left. Then when the letter arrived from Edward, saying that he had them safe and sound and she need only come collect them... She'd arrived only a few hours earlier to do just that. Only to learn that they were gone.

Gone.

She'd barely had time to get the story from Edward. She'd been told only the bare bones: Riley and Lily had been there. Now they weren't. And, worse, Britta and another young lady were missing, too. Dear God, Dahlia thought, what had she done? All she could think was that she had failed them. Worried maids had quickly wisked her away, forced her to eat and wash after the hurried journey from Uthlyn to Highheart. And now she was told the best thing she could do was rest until the morning. But Dahlia couldn't rest. She couldn't sleep. She could only stare at the fire, wondering desperately where her children were.

visualspice · March 20, 2016, 07:11:18 AM

Gone as the hope that once filled his heart. Gone was the future or care to see the morning. Gone was the color that made life worth living.

He had broken down, sniveling and crying. It had been countless hours since they had been out in the night, searching, seeking, calling out for the children and his betrothed. But there was nothing. No sign of a struggle, no sign of a run. In fact, the hounds seemed to only be guiding them in circles.

He felt as if they must've combed the entirety of the forests surrounding his home. But as his men convinced him it was wise to return home and they'd do a better search when there was dalight, he had dropped to his knees and sobbed. It took several men to convince him his child was okay, all of the children were. That his fiance would be alright, and they'd find them later that day. That he needed to rest, and that they could continue their search efforts then.

He went on, sobbing and demanding they go into town, knock on every door to see what everyone had to say.

"Surely someone has seen them!"

But even when they allowed Lord Draven to start this venture, he was breaking down, going off on men and was over whelmed with fatigue and despair. When he finally was ushered home, he felt empty. And couldn't even bring himself to open the door, as he stood outside, weary and trembling, before eventually his maid opened the door and rushed to bring him in.

He was guided to a chair, because he himself could not remember going there. Tea must've been placed in his hands, his boots removed, a blanket thrown over his shoulder, and his eyes staring listlessly at the flames. If his maid was saying anything of importance, he wasn't fully hearing it, just nodding numbly as he felt the crushing weight of his failure close in on him within his own home.

Somewhere in the middle of his maid's conversation, Lady Gray was mentioned. And it was only then did he feel completely crushed, as his hands went limp and his tea cup toppled to the ground. He didn't remember what happened next, just that he was in her room, sitting at her bed side as he shook.

"Gods... Dahlia... I'm so sorry." He didn't even know if she had been awake, if he woke her or anything. The world was just a numbness he existed in, and he felt a crowned fool.

pomelo · March 20, 2016, 12:09:16 PM

Dahlia didn't move as Edward came into the room. She stayed sitting how she was, arms wrapped around her knees and staring at the smouldering fire. She knew, somehow, that it was Edward. The man who had been, perhaps, courting her until she'd cut off contact with him. Or simply stopped returning his letters. It wasn't until after his apology that Dahlia let out a shallow sigh and turned to look at him.

"I should apologize to you, I -" She paused, something flickering on her face. "My children, showing up here and -" But her throat tightened, and she couldn't finish the sentence. Dahlia ran a hand into her curly blonde hair, staring at her knees determinedly for several long moments before looking up at Edward, a wet shine in her eyes. "What happened?"

visualspice · March 21, 2016, 05:18:20 PM

It was like staring at a ghost- a beautiful, mournful ghost who's eyes now shined with despair. He felt his own throat constrict, and it was hard to breath in the moment, but then he was on his knees before her, taking her hand and kissing it hotly.

"Gods.. no... No, Lady Gray, you mustn't blame yourself for the free spirits of your children!" he implored her. His hands closed around her's, his large and warm, while her's were just the right fit in between. He gave her hands a squeeze and never once took his eyes off of her's.

"You are a perfect mother, honorable, wonderful, beautiful and brave," he confessed, pausing as his lips trembled over a breath. "And from it one can not fault themselves their children would not want to part. This war.... it reaches it's grip into things we do not see."

He squeezed her hand again.
"They had come here," he revealed. "As you know but through my best efforts, it seems even I was unable to keep yours, as well as my own, safe within this house."

He moved one strong hand to her cheek, and thumbed away a freshly rolling tear, while his own eyes shined with tears of his own.

"We should not dwell on blame, and once we find them in the morrow, for we will do so, we will celebrate! And get your children a pony, or an entire stable of horses for them all, and treasure them and spoil them until we are rot out of money!"

pomelo · April 13, 2016, 06:00:47 AM

But how did they come to disappear - again - and this time with Edward's own little daughter. And not just Edwards daughter, but another young lady. Who she was, Dahlia had hardly had the energy to wonder. Her thoughts were preoccupied with Lily, and Riley, and also with Britta. Edward might say that she wasn't to blame for the strong will and free spirits of her children. But if not her, then who? He called her the perfect mother, but Dahlia was unsure.

But instead of saying any of this right now, she only said, "Call me Dahlia," in a hoarse voice for what must have been the hundredth time.

When he put a hand to her cheek, large and warm and strong against her cold, clamy skin, she found herself leaning into it. Despite her sense of proprietary. She closed her eyes to fight back a further round of tears, taking comfort in Edward's warm touch.

"And get your children a pony, or an entire stable of horses for them all, and treasure them and spoil them until we are rot out of money!"

Edward's words made Dahlia look up. But when she opened her eyes, they were no longer full of tears, but of a fierce, cold determination.

"No," she answered slowly but firmly, her voice thick. "You may do spoil Britta and buy her as many ponies as you like. But my children are going to Serendipity. Whatever they hoped to accomplish with this stunt. Nothing is going to change that."

And that, she knew, would 'rot her out of money,' as Edward put it. Paying for the journey, protection along the way, and whatever she could send with Lily to support them once they were away. Dahlia was not so naive as to think she'd easily be able to send them more. Or that, once they were gone, she would see them any time soon.

visualspice · April 24, 2016, 12:54:53 PM

Eyes shining with tears, Edward took her hand and dared draw it to his lips. He kissed her fingers lightly before releasing a shaking breath.

"Dahlia..." His lips trembled, his smile fumbling over the usage of such a name without a title. It was intimate, close...
But he supposed they were rather close in that moment. He looked from her hand into her face.
"Dahlia..."
Any other words faltered in his throat, choking him up as he found himself only able to look at her as he floundered in his own internal mess of emotions. But one shaking hand crawled towards her face again, moving to brush away a wild strand of hair that dare hide her face from him. And he felt such a sick sensation in his belly. One that beckoned him to kiss her, to want to hold her, and never let her go.

But was it right? Could he even deserve it? Should he even go after such a feeling knowing his first love was in the grave. But so many years had past. So many years without love, without this sort of feeling. And before he could stop himself, he began to lean towards her, lips seeking her's.

pomelo · April 24, 2016, 01:08:56 PM

It was Dahlia who closed the last distance between them, whose lips pressed against Edward's. She didn't even think about it. If she had, surely she would have stopped: They were alone, in his home, on a bed, and Edward had another female visitor. The lady who had disappeared with the children. Surely, if Dahlia had stopped to think about it, she would know what that meant.

But she didn't stop to think. Not in that moment.

She kissed him gently at first, but after a moment her hands came forward to hold either side of his face, fingers lacing into his hair, and she felt a heat grow in her stomach.

It was wrong. But what could Dahlia do? She was alone, exhausted, widowed, spending every last scrap of energy trying to save her children from the gaping maw of the war that seemed intent to devour her family. And just for that moment, she wanted to feel some... something else. Some comfort. Something...

After several long moments, Dahlia drew away from him, looking surprised at first, and then embarrassed, cheeks coloring pink.

"God, Edward, I'm sorry. That was... That, I mean, I didn't..." She shook her head, looking down at her knees. "You have to forgive me."

visualspice · April 24, 2016, 01:13:14 PM

He said nothing. He did nothing, for he was too stunned too. The kiss had taken more than his breath away and once released from its intoxicating hold...
He knew he couldn't go on any further until he had more.

She'd find his hand claiming her's, and another hand moving to coax her face, to let her now it was okay to rest comfortingly into it, to look at him as if he were her rock, her strength as he breathed the words, "You never need apologize to me."
And he moved to kiss her again, and again.

pomelo · April 24, 2016, 01:26:10 PM

Now it was Dahlia's turn to be surprised when Edward reached out for her, drew her to him, and kissed her again. Edward. Proper, bashful, sometimes almost awkward Edward. Who she could hardly imagine ever setting a foot on the wrong side of propriety.

Yet here they were.

Dahlia didn't hold back, returning all of his kisses, hands finding their way to his neck, then down his back, moving her body so it could be closer to his, pressing against him. How long had it been since she had felt the strength of a man next to her? Taken comfort from a man in her bed? Dahlia knew exactly. She had been with no one since Kerry had died. And now...

And now a heat was spreading through Dahlia, a need. Edward and Dahlia were on a dangerous line. It could still stop here. A moment of weakness, nobody's reputation marred, no serious rules of propriety shattered. Dahlia broke away - only just - to look at Edward. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, but her eyes searched for his, asking silently, Is this what you want?

It wasn't too late.

visualspice · April 24, 2016, 01:36:38 PM

Seeing her eyes, glittering over with tears and the depths of concern, had him reaching out, both hands upon her face, both eyes seeking her's and only her's as he took her in, breathed in her smells and leaned in to kiss her once more, all the while whimpering. Perhaps at his own defeat, perhaps at his own need, but he could not stop himself.

Too many emotions had been built up, and over time. And through their trials and with the aiding hammer of the war, the dam broke and he felt raw emotions soar through his veins. And soon he wasn't just kissing her lips, but her cheeks and ears and throat as well, all the while his own pulse was hammering inside his brain.

pomelo · April 24, 2016, 01:47:14 PM

And now it was too late. Dahlia leaned into his kisses, tilting her head back as his mouth came to her throat. No more thinking. No more propriety. No more worries about the war, about her family, about her children. Not in this moment.

But still, all those worries hung right behind the curtain. If Dahlia wasn't thinking about them in that moment, they still drove a sense of mortality. Of urgency. Pushing Dahlia to find some proof that she was still alive.

And there with Edward, she did. She kissed the side of his head, his ears, his jaw, between his kisses pressed against her throat. Her breath was light pants now, chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. Her hands slipped below the collar of Edward's shirt, smoothed against the warm skin beneath.

visualspice · April 24, 2016, 01:53:27 PM

Her hand to his flesh sent a rippling across his skin, bumping it all over as he shivered. He didn't think much into it, just went into actions as his own hands moved to smooth up her warm, soft arm, and then up t the flesh of her shoulder beneath her sleeves until the fabric allowed him no more progress, and she'd feel his whimpering breath exhale against her throat, where his lips had found a home to kiss and nurse at with need.

pomelo · April 24, 2016, 02:03:45 PM

Dahlia was no shy teenager or inexperienced young lady, who might have reacted more bashfully in this situation. But a grown woman, who had shared her bed with her husband for more than a decade. So when Edward's hands were stopped by the collar of her night shirt, she simply pulled away just enough to undo the buttons closing the collar until she could shrug off the upper part of the garment, leaving her exposed from the waist up.

She felt for a moment small and vulnerable: half-naked now, next to the fully clothed Edward; after all, he had come in from his search and was still dressed the part, while Dahlia had been wearing only the night shirt she had brought with her. But she didn't feel vulnerable in a bad way. She felt exposed, but she felt safe. And it was only a moment before she reached forward to kiss him again, this time with a passionate need.

visualspice · April 24, 2016, 02:16:12 PM

If Edward had any reservations before,t he moment he watched her remove the top half of her night dress, he could not look away or back off now. He felt his own body rising to the occasion, and his chest swelling with such need. Forgetting he was still clothed nad not even caring, he moved forward, hands hesitant, before they reached out and cupped around the soft warm mounds of her breasts. And he gripped them, massaging them with such a hungered moan he couldn't help himself. And soon he was guiding her back onto the bed, she now laying flat on her back while he crawled over her.

Hands were hungry, warm and powerful, even becoming a little greedy as he felt every inch of her skin that he could while his own lips were doing the same, claiming her's, then devouring her chest, and moaning all the while.

How long had it been since he'd enjoy any such company with a woman? Only one other had stirred his heart and loins the way this woman was. And it was a feeling that spread like wild fire, he was lifting up her night skirts before he even knew what he was doing, and his hands moved to fumble and open the front of his pants. And before he even knew what he was doing-
They were making love.

pomelo · April 24, 2016, 02:27:14 PM

This was a much more forward Edward than Dahlia was expecting, and it surprised her. But she wasn't complaining. He'd already been stoking the growing heat inside of her with his mouth on the skin of her chest, on her breasts - or maybe it would be more accurate to say he'd been fanning the flames.

Still, she gasped when he entered her like that, night dress hitched up to her waist and him above her still fully clothed. But the gasp quickly turned into a moan and her hips bucked up against him, relishing he feel of having him inside of her. And like this, Dahlia would be lying if she said the manner of it all wasn't a little exciting. Her back arched, hips rolling against his.

"Oh, god, Edward..."

visualspice · April 24, 2016, 02:40:54 PM

At her words, it all came rushing in- the reality, the tension, the anxiety and loss, the years of repression, the truth of feelings, their shared vulnerability, and his sudden strength by their spark of desire.

He whimpered, moving around like some unschooled lover until he got into a rhythm that was more suiting to the mood. He shivered, eyes opening to look into her's as he slowly began to move into her, making love to her good and slow, like he had done to his wife, when he had told her over a thousand flamed voices and proclaimed his love.

And though this time was new, and with a partner he had been too shy around to vocalized any of his wants...
It was by no means anything but perfection, for her heat was soft and he could feel how tight and needing she was. He had no resistance as he was slow paced in his rolls through her velvet sex. And though he'd felt her near ten times now, each one took his breath away as he dipped into her deeper and deeper still.

pomelo · May 28, 2016, 02:29:32 PM

A short, breathy gasp escaped Dahlia's lips each time Edward moved, each time pushing deeper into her. Her back arched upward against him, arms roped around him, clutching him to her. The coarse fabric of his traveling clothes rubbed with some friction against her bare skin and against her exposed nipples; the sensation left her moaning and excited. And though she'd moved in kind to each of his slow thrusts, Dahlia's hips now rolled against his, encouraging a more urgent pace. This felt urgent. A base need she'd ignored, that urgently needed to be satisfied.

visualspice · May 30, 2016, 03:29:41 PM

Hands grasped firmly on her hips as he gasped and moaned and bucked to meet her need. And soon he was growing hot, too hot for his riding cloak and coat and pants, and fumbled around feverishly to be rid of them, all the while refusing to stop the rolling union of their hips.

It might have been clumsy, as his clothing whished over her head and clumped to the ground, but he felt all the better for it, finding himself down to his simple under shirt- and nothing more. Sweat suctioned his remaining garment to his body as his lips continued to claim her own. And still, he was moving erratic as he purred out her name.

"Gods.... Dahlia...!"

pomelo · May 31, 2016, 11:15:42 AM

Dahlia clutched tightly to Edward as her body moved to meet his. She stopped thinking. She just moved. Because if she wasted any time thinking...

No. Now was definitely not the time for that. This was the time for a need. A need she'd almost forgotten she'd had. And when that need was finally met, and their love making came to its natural conclusion, Dahlia felt her body relax against the bed, beneath Edward. A feeling settled on her that was simultaneously satiated and unsettled.

What had just happened here?

Well, she wasn't a little girl. She knew what happened. ...But what did it mean?

visualspice · May 31, 2016, 12:22:23 PM

Perhaps the act was enough to make the man a bit too relaxed. Where as so many questions were beginning to form inside Dahlia's head, his own mind was simply reveling in the fact he finally was able to escape into a woman he could yet again embrace and desired to call his world.

Soft fingers stroked her side as he breathed against her neck before kissing her shoulder. A hand found her's as he gave it a squeeze.

"You're beautiful, do you know that?" he asked her gently, a small, admiring smile upon his lips while his brown eyes warmed from his utmost affection of her. "Beautiful.... strong. Truthfully, a woman I have always admired."