Spirits of the Earth

( @Lion !)

It was different, being so... Alone.

Callista smiled idly to the person perusing the flowers that were on display, ready to help if need be or requested. It was an odd life she was living now. A little under a year ago she'd been a slave. A slave with no identity, just a shadow on the wall and a bump in the night. The situation was entirely different... And even more scary. Idly her fingers traced the wood of the counter and she smiled politely at the man that brought a set of red roses over.

It was a real tragedy.

The flowershop had been broken into and her husband, Bart, had been an unfortunate victim. Murdered and his body dumped. They still hadn't found it.

At least that was the official story.

And then, the little wife, pregnant, the child adopted out because she couldn't take care of it alone.

Reality was far different and while she tolerated the sympathetic looks from the older patrons, they were also annoying. It was lies. It was all lies and it grated on her nerves. Made her fingers itchy and she found herself missing Carn, though the man he'd become was in the room over having recently come back from a short trip.

It was different.

Being around him felt wrong.

The man left with his red roses and Callista smiled and waved happily.

After the birth of the child and after it had been adopted out, her brother, a man named Reinier came to live with her. The few months between him being a frustrated child and a man were a terror and Callista found herself glad they hadn't lasted long. The few weeks she had to mother a child were a horror on her and she was glad it wasn't an actual child. Carn had kept his word.

Callista gently bit her lip and made sure the shop wasn't occupied before she wandered into the room where Reinier was sitting at a desk and reading. Ever since he'd been... Here, he'd had his nose buried in a book and he looked up at her slowly when she poked her head into the room.

"Carn, Can yo-"

"Reinier." He corrected in the smooth voice the dagger had carried.

"Reinier, Can you come with me? I want to get some things before sundown."

A quiet sigh and he stood up. Together the pair went about closing up the shop and before long, all the doors were closed and Callista had a bag, the proper amount of money and Reinier was looking relatively grumpy behind her. All he really wanted to do was sit and read. Sadly, that didn't look like it was going to happen.

The pair went about shopping. Callista having found she had a talent for cooking after the untimely demise of her 'husband'. The fact Carn Reinier ate enough for two of him when he was in town didn't help. To most people, they simply looked like siblings, the features, the hair. There was a striking resemblance to someone else though and Callista often found herself examining Reinier's features and then staring off and looking sad.

Sadly, she never saw Rembrandt again. It wasn't love that kept her sad. It was guilt. Guilt of how she lied and used him. There had been a spark there. A small piece of her she knew would be able to grow into something more. That little spark of curiosity.

"Callista."

Reinier called to her and she stopped moving to look back at him, blinking. She was wearing simple clothing and her hair was tucked into a loose braid. Pants today. Callista had found she was rather fond of wearing pants.

And so, the pair walked and Callista snuck her hand into Reinier's elbow while they went about and did their shopping. As usual, Callista looked for his face in the passing people and as usual, she was disappointed. Though, Reinier caught eyes with someone off in the distance and he smiled wide. It was a sinister smile and he gently pat Callista's hand.

Arca would always be a favorite haunt of his, for all of the obvious reasons.  it was such an interesting city.  It was filled with so many nooks and crannies and places to hide, and people to see.  The people were a spirit all their own, one that mesmerized and enchanted him to no end.  He'd taken time off from his Company, and it was nice to have some real free time for once. 

He'd find the right person yet.  For the moment, he was simply himself.

And that's all he would be wandering the market that day, plucking up a piece of fruit and biting into it.  He paid the man more gold than it was worth.  Hm, perhaps a vendor would be interesting skin to walk in.

While Callista was busy haggling about the price of vegetables, Reinier was keeping an eye out. Not for anything in particular but simply because haggling was boring and while he did want to eat that night, being around for the whole process was boring. Then, there. In the distance.

A grin. A wide toothy grin.

It was with inhuman grace that Reinier walked towards his target.

Target. That was to rude a word. He supposed this man was his - eugh - father. Technicalities. The resemblance was striking, even to him and he pushed a hand through his hair before he meandered his way over. Having been the dagger, having observed, Reinier looked off to the side for a moment and from his sleeve, like a magic trick, he pulled a white rose.

"Sir?"

Reinier spoke, his voice silky smooth, recognizable as the dagger if Rembrandt could remember it.

"You dropped this," He held the white rose out, and for a fleeting moment, he'd made his face the other mans. A single moment. Enough to do a double take but not enough to notice unless you were looking at him to begin with.

"Well, it was either you or that lady over there, she's known around here for her flowers you see," He started as simple conversation, pointing across the way to Callista who was still haggling. Though she was smiling and seemed to be enjoying it. "I wanted to catch you before you swaggered off," Reinier smiled, "Just in case if was yours after all."

The tone prickled at his ears, sparking curiosity.  Rembrandt recalled hearing such a voice before, one that seemed to otherworldly to be real.  It sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.  And when he looked down at the hand that held the rose, he paused.

"No, I don't believe I did," he said, meeting the stranger's eyes.  "I didn't have any roses in hand. Thank you anyway."

Ha!

Take that sneaky vegetable guy!

Callista bagged the carrots triumphantly and looked up to see... Not Reinier. A brief glance over her shoulder and she spotted his head of hair, talking to someone else. Odd. Usually he avoided people. Curious.

Before long she was standing beside Reinier and frowning at the rose in his hand. "Why do you have that," she asked, having gone a little pale. Quickly she grabbed it and threw it down, though the rose disintegrated into smoke as soon as it hit the ground at someone else's feet.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" she looked up and her heart stopped dead.

It was her Shadow.

"Carn," she said softly, looking a little betrayed, "what did you do?"

Reinier frowned deeply, looking between the two and shrugged, "Carn didn't do anything." He grinned, "it's been a while, Sir, won't you join us for dinner?"

Rembrandt's eyes widened at seeing Callista again, another shape that had liquified from his memory.  She was still beautiful, if older looking than she had been.  That was unfortunate.  He looked between them both and his frown only deepened.  So this was who Carn had become.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline.  You hardly know me.  I'm nobody of importance," he answered softly.  "Just a stranger."

"Oh, but you're very important." Reinier said while Callista stood stalk still and silent. Hurt looking. Just a stranger he said. The few fleeting moments they'd shared were a moment of brightness for her and... He was just a stranger. One hand moved to press against her chest, where that hollow feeling had come back and before long she placed her hand on Reinier's arm.

"Don't..." Callista started, "Don't try to force him," She said gently, but, quickly enough her hand was throw from his arm and she winced away. Callista hadn't been freed at all, she was just a different kind of slave now. 

"I insist," Reinier grinned, looking down at the arm in his hand before flashing another grin.

"You've grown into an interesting young man Carn.  Or whatever you're calling yourself these days," Rembrandt commented quietly.  But the hand on his arm irked him and he carefully pried his fingers off his arm.  "I'll go.  But not by force."  He gestured to Callista.  "Lead the way."

"Reinier, Please," He said with a steely smile, not enjoying the bite from Rembrandt. It was making Callista fantastically uncomfortable so, still, he'd be nice. He let the other man pull his hand off his arm and Callista just stared down at the ground, her bag of groceries in front of her.


"That's it? Nothing else? You know, I am a byproduct of both of you. Thanks for the face, by the way" Reinier smiled, looking Rembrandt in the eye before Callista started to walk back to the flower shop. She didn't want Rembrandt around. It made her want to apologize. It made her want to beg for forgiveness. It made her feel again and all she wanted to do was not feel.

Everything had gone wrong but, she supposed, that was quite normal for her life. Slowly she turned around and tried to smile, "I've found I like to cook," she said simply, giving Rembrandt a hesitant smile before she turned back around to walk quietly. Consequences.

"You are a creation in and of yourself, Carn," Rembrandt said, tilting his head at how quaint the child had become.  Or young man rather.  He was his own person.  Rembrandt had no attachment to him.  He was simply another entity.

"But your spoiling other people's appetite.  Best not to dawdle like an old woman."

Reinier gave Rembrandt a steely look.

Apparently this man liked to play hard. Luckily, so did Reinier. He stayed silent the rest of the walk back to the flower shop, though he kept his had possessively on Callistas back, gently trailing his fingers up and down her spine.

It made her go faster. She always walked faster when she was uncomfortable.

"Ah, here we are." Reinier commented idly, looking at the closed doors of the flower shop before he opened them with a flick of his wrist, "And, oh, would you look at the time. I've a meeting to go to." A smile towards Rembrandt and Callista and he took a step backwards and simply disappeared. A small display of his power, just for them.

Callista's knuckles were white while she held her bag, staring down at the floor. She looked over her shoulder after a moment, towards the guest Reinier had invited. Swallowing carefully she stared at his mouth, not willing to meet his eyes.

"Do you remember me?"

Rembrandt frowned as Carn haughtily disappeared.  Of course he would show off, to no practical end.  He gave an inward sigh and was happy he gave no emotional attachment to the stinky fool.

But they were alone now.  He peered down to Callista.  "I do," he murmured, face drawn, solemn.  "Do you remember me?"

Part of her relaxed but everything else tensed up. Callista gave Rembrandt a small smile and she stepped aside to let him into the shop all the same.

"Of course I do," she said softly, "you're My Shadow."

He wasn't still, Callista wasn't a shadow anymore. A shadow of the person she could have grown to be, but slowly she was taking steps into the light. It was easier to pretend though, "do you like Sheperd's pie?" Her tone was a little brighter and she looked the littlest bit hopeful. "I do lots of cooking now. It's fun."

She still had to feed her dagger.

Light twinkled in his eyes for a moment.  He watched her go in, eyes thoughtful and somber.  He stepped into the doorway, but not into the shop.  "I don't believe I've ever had good Shepherd's pie."  And that made him step in, the familiar smell of roses and other flowers wafting in the air.

"I'd be willing to try," he said softly.  "Try the pie I mean."

The smile Callista gave Rembrandt was radiant.

Just that little step inside the shop and she reached forward to hold out her hand, intending to take his and lead him to the kitchen. "You can help me cut and wash vegetables," She said, "It'll make food happen faster if I don't have to do all the prep myself." 

"And rob you of the glory of making it yourself?  I think not.  But if you insist on making your guest work for their nourishment, I won't argue with you," he said with great amusement.  Following her into the kitchen, he took his jacket off and hung it on the rack behind the door.

"Where shall I perform this dire execution?" he asked, rolling up his sleeves.

A moment of hesitation and she took her hand back, pressing it against her leg carefully before she went to the kitchen, watching him put his jacket up. Callista found her heart was pounding and she took a careful breath before she removed the vegetables from her bag along with the various other things.

Grabbing a cutting board and a knife she placed them on the counter beside her own tools and put the carrots on it. "I figured it'd be nicer to help than just... Wait," She said quietly, looking at him. "You don't have to help if you don't want to. I can make you coffee and ... You can sit at the table?" Giving him an out while she went about peeling the potatoes with a knife.

"No take backs," he said.  He laughed again.  "I'm already here.  I'm happy to help."  He went avout cleaning the vegetables in a washbasin and wringing them out.  He went about chopping them up, glancing at her over his shoulder.  "So how did you learn to make good Shepherd's pie?  Do you add anything special to the mix?"

Callista cast a glance at Rembrandt and blinked at his question. "I... A neighbour taught me," she smiled and turned back to the potatoes. "I just add some herbs," a small smile though one good swipe of the knife and she frowned down at her hand. "Oh," she held her hand out and stared at the blood that welled up on her finger. Quickly enough she wrapped her finger in a dish cloth and resumed peeling the potatoes.

"How have you been?" She asked softly, "I've thought of you a lot."

Rembrandt stood behind her a step back when she cut her finger.  His hands interrupted hers and wrapped around her finger to put pressure on it.

"I've been...okay.  Bored mostly," he chuckled.  He held her finger until the bleeding slowed and he smiled once again.

"I wonder if...if leaving you the way I did was a mistake..  But I don't really believe it was.  Why did you listen to the promises of a dagger?"

His hand on hers had her stomach flutter and she smiled slightly at the touch. The pain was nothing but she liked the warmth of his hand on hers. Callista placed her hand on his after the bleeding stopped and gently drew her fingers over the back of it.

"I..." Callista dropped her head down, staring at the counter and she sighed, " it didn't look like there was any other way out. He was my friend." Swallowing thickly she turned away from Rembrandt and resumed with her chore. "It's good you left. I... Learned a lot about myself while I was alone." She gave him a brief smile and motioned to the vegetables, "I did a lot of cooking while I was..." A frown, "pregnant."

"Well, at least it's something you can enjoy," he said.  "It's nice to see you again."

Rem returned to the vegetables and fixed them up, and threw them into a bowl.  "Teach me, then, the fine points of making the most succulent shepherd's pie."

Callista taught him. It wasn't anything special but soon enough everything was made and she pushed the food into the wood stove and dusted her hands off. There was only instructions and little conversation. Finally she put a kettle on top of the stove and turned to face Rembrandt.

"Rembrandt," her voice was small while she busied herself with getting things ready to make them coffee. She didn't then to him, didn't want to face him if he said no. "Can I have a hug?"

What an unusual request.  He eyed her for a long silent moment.  Could he hug her after all that had happened?  "Do you...thinkits a good idea?" he asked softly.

Glad she hadn't turned around so he couldn't see her face, she gave a dry laugh and shook her head. Grabbing a pair of cups she patiently waited for the water to boil.  "I suppose not," she said softly, "I don't ever seem to have good ideas." Callista gave a weary sigh and went about making them coffee, placing a cup beside Rembrandt. "And when I think I do it's... All a lie."

"Then let bad ideas be tonight's theme," he said gently, stepping forth and wrapping his arms around her.  He hugged her lightly.  He pat her back. 

The hug was unexpected and she leaned into it slightly. "Don't say that." Callista pulled back from him, her head down still. "I... I don't want you to... To think being friends with me again is a bad idea." Her hands went to her hair and she reached up to gently trace his jaw, "I just... Can I have another chance? Just... I want to be friends."

"I thought we were still friends," came a quizzical reply.  Rembrandt stood over her, letting her go enough.  He stared down at the coffee and lifted it to his nose.  The smell was strong, bitter and opened his senses like smoke might.

He took a small sip, the liquid scorching his tongue and throat on the way down.  Only then did his eyes meet hers.  "Why do you doubt yourself?" he asked, curious.

"After all I've done to you?" Surprise was in her voice and she watched him sip the coffee. Callista checked on the food, the smells drifting into the kitchen and it smelled like home.

"I don't deserve to be your friend." Callista said quietly, looking up at him.

"But I still want to. I doubt myself because.." She frowne slightly, "you were the only person who was a shadow with me and... I... Want you to be My Shadow again. You still make me curious."

Rembrandt's expression turned somber.  He didn't know if he could.  Frankly, he didn't even know if he wanted to.  A part of him was still curious about her in turn, to understand why she did what she did, why she was so easily pulled in.  Was he manipulating her in turn?  Would he only hurt her in the end?  He had a feeling, that yes, he would.

"I don't know if things will go back to the way they were," he said soft, reaching for her hand.  "But that was then and this is now.  A lot as happened for both of us between then and now.  We could...start over, maybe.  Be friends, and see what happens."

Callista sighed and pushed her hair from her face.

"I'd like to be your friend," her voice was soft and she smiled at him. Looking down at their hands, still, she  paused for a moment before her eyes brightened. "Oh!" Taking her hand from his she went over to a cabinet beside the entrance of the kitchen and opened it. An unopened bottle of bourbon, "I... I'm not... I'm not free like I thought I would be... But I haven't," she licked her lips, "It's nice not being ordered to...  Have sex and kill strangers."

A hesitant look to Rembrandt, "have you been many people since I last saw you?"

His smile turned crooked, as it often seemed it would in times like these.  He sat down at the table and stared into the darkness of the coffee.  Straight, with no milk or sugar, or even cream.  It was a bitter taste, much like how he felt then.  Bitter at himself.  Bitter at not feeling anything.

"It's hard to keep track sometimes.  Especially when it can last for as little as a few days, or as long as six months," he murmured, then turned his eyes back to her.  "Have you ever loved anyone?  I don't mean me, I mean, anyone, or anything.  A pet perhaps, an animal that you care for and they keep you company in turn.  I'm only asking out of curiosity."

"Love?"

Callista closed the cabinet door and took her own coffee and sat at the table across from it. Staring down at her own bitter liquid, she didn't drink. A tilt of her head and she brushed her fingers at her cheeks for a moment.

"I... No. I'd know if I had loved someone, wouldn't I?" For a moment she looked concerned, what if she didn't know? Her hands moved to rest at her lap and she stared down at her fingers, staring at the new fresh cut, red at the edges but no longer bleeding. "I wasn't allowed pets. I tried to keep a cat but..." She shook her head, "they made me kill it. I learned to not grow attached to anything."Callista gave him a minute smile before she looked back down at her lap. Carn. She'd grown attached to Carn. And what a price it was to pay for it.

"You can ask me anything, you know," She said, still facing her lap, "You deserve to ask questions."

"Do you love Carn?" he asked, curious, still.  He'd just about finished his coffee, but he couldn't think of too many other questions to ask.  Asking questions meant getting more involved than he wanted to.  And he was involved enough as it was.

Callista stood up and grabbed a clock, frowning at Rembrandt before she opened the stove door to pull out dinner. It smelled delicious and she made a happy humming noise after a moment. She set it on the counter to cool before she went to a cupboard to grab two plates and utensils, not ready to serve the food yet but letting it cool.

"No."

Giving a tilt to her head, "That's a silly question. What makes you think of all the things I could love it would be Carn." Callista gave her head a shake, not being able to imagine such a silly idea. Carn was bad. Carn used her.

There was just no where else for her to go, so she stayed.

"Why stay then?" he asked.  "Why wait?  This...this is what I don't understand.  Are you still somehow bound to Carn?  To serve him still?  You already gave him what he wanted."

All the questions she wasn't willing to ask herself because the answer made her feel.

Callista plated their food, putting his on the table in front of him with a fork and her own down gently before she took a seat again.

"Where would I go?" She asked softly, "I have no where. I have no one. I have no skills beyond sex and killing and even the former of the two I'm not skilled at. I don't want to... To work in a brothel to make my way." Callista sighed and was quiet for a moment, eating a few forkfulls of food.

"I don't stay because I want to. I stay because there's no where else for me to go."

"Better to be out in the wilderness, making your own way than to be stuck here cooking for some thing that tricked you into giving it life!" Rem hissed, feeling more impassioned than he ought to have.  He looked down at the pie and immediately lost his appetite.

"I still don't understand.  You wait for someone else to change your circumstances as if the wind would somehow throw you in the right direction.  Perhaps...it is merely the fault of my upbringing.  I had no skills...other than the one I was given to make my own way.  I left as soon as I was able.  I cannot fault you for how you were brought up, and the only things you were taught.  But...perhaps there's hope yet in a career in baking."

Callista slammed her hand onto the table, the plates rattled and she stared at him.

"You haven't been through what I have! You don't know what it's like to have someone beat everything that makes you you out of yourself. You try to hide behind other peoples faces. Live other peoples lives because you're miserable and lonely." A quick shuddering breath, "Your skills are to steal peoples lives." Tears welled and she let her hand fall from the table, "That's my only skill too but I don't get to keep it! I don't get to pretend to be them! You think I'd still be here? Cooking for some thing that tricked me into giving it life I could leave without becoming a prostitute? Without killing people for money?"

Pushing the plate away she angrily undid her braid, and stood away from the table, her head down. Hiding behind her long black hair. "Teach me then. Help me." Her voice was small and there was a desperate tone, "Please."

A chuckle erupted from him at her outburst.  "Anger," he said.  "Finally a more useful reaction in comparison to all thay whimpering you were doing before.  Better to be angry than to be wallowing in your misery."

At that he stabbed into the shepherd's pie, and ate a few bites.  "And what exactly is it that you wish me to teach you?  How to live on your own?  How to survive?"  He gave it some thought and looked her over.  "All right.  I'll give it a try.  First, we eat. There's much to be learned in eating alone, how not to look like a pig is one of them.  And making conversation is another.  How you interact with others is going to be a big factor in how one survives, Calista.  Few people can make it in this world without speaking to another soul."

At first she was shocked at the chuckle, then she frowned and simply looked way. What an odd man. Callista took a deep breath, giving him a bit of a nasty look when he went over the very basics. "I do not eat like a pig," She told him, frowning down at her food and pressing her hands to her lips to make sure nothing was around her mouth. Sure enough, she still had the manners that were beat into her.

"I do need help with making conversation," She moved her hands to take up the fork again, frowning at it before she took another bite. Why had she taken so much? It was a small serving, but right now it felt like stones in her stomach and glue in her mouth. At least it was very tasty glue.

Another quiet moment, "I'm sorry."

A shake of her head and she pushed her hair behind her ear, "I... You're the only person I know besides..." The name hung in the air for a moment, "You don't... I didn't give you the option of not helping me before." A small apologetic smile and a gentle shrug, "I can learn how to be alone... Alone. If this will just be a burden on you."

Rembrandt turned to her.  "Relax," he said gently.  He held out his hand.  "If it is too muc, I will leave.  But until then, I stay.  Callista you've got to try and have some self esteem.  People will hone in on that and try to use it against you.  I know you are intelligent.  You're beautiful, you're clever.  You're more than you seem despite everything, and perhaps because of it.  Do you believe that you could survive on your own?"

There was a gentle frown and she looked away after a moment.

Taking in a deep breath she just stared ahead at Rembrandt, keeping her own hands in her lap for the time being. "I supposed I survived on my own while..." Trailing off she gave her guest a look but stayed silent.

"I don't know," Gently she bit her lip, looking away. "I could try," She looked around the kitchen, mentally going through the house and the flower shop.

"I'd have to leave." The very idea sent her heart racing and she pressed her palms to her legs, "I couldn't be... Where Carn knows where I am. He'd haunt me like a bad dream."

"And why would Carn keep you here?  You already did your part did you not?"

A swallow, she gently shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

"He doesn't keep me here. He just..." A hand through her hair, all her thoughts were a mess and she pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes. "I don't know. He's not a dagger anymore. He's..." Swallowing carefully she couldn't think of any other words.

"He's evil now. I thought he was my friend before." Another shake of her head, "I did my part. Now I'm confused and I don't know what I should do because I have no one here to tell me." A gentle bite of her lip, "Maybe..." A hesitant look at him before she cast her eyes down again, "Do you... Do you know anyone that might..."

Being free was all she wanted.

Now that it was a reality - beyond the whole Dagger is a Person problem - Callista didn't know what to do. There were no instructions. There were no orders. How was she supposed to do anything if there was no one to tell her to do it?

He frowned, feeling his chest hurt in that swelling sensation that worries him.

Rembrandt leaned forward and took her hand.  "So if I take you away from here, it would all be for nothing?"

Looking down at their hands Callista stared at it for a moment. Not even daring to hope.

"I don't understand."

Swallowing carefully she licked her lips and took a careful measured breath. "Take me to where?"

"To anywhere, everywhere," he murmured, looking somber, and no longer bearing his appetite.  "I don't know if I could protect you.  But you'd be free of this place."

All at once her hands were trembling and she just looked at him.

Though her mouth opened and closed no words came out and she felt her eyes burn. Callista reached forward with her other hand but caught it back. Before she'd done what the dagger wanted. Done what she'd been instructed to do.

"You... You'd do that?" Her voice was soft with disbelief and she shook her head gently, "That... Please?" It was a step. It was a helping hand a step forward away from here. It was scary and she could feel her insides twisting in fear. There was no Master anymore but still, the idea of leaving had been something worth punishing her for and even now, the initial reaction was the same. Fear.

"Please Rem? I'll do anything."

An unusual fear filled Rembrandt, as he held her hand he squeezed it in seeming desperation.  He found he did want to help her, she was still someone he found he cared for, two shadows that found each other.  "Only for you," he found himself starting.

Carn no doubt would go after him as well.  Just to torment them both.  "We'll run away together."

Run away together.

It wasn't the run away part that had her gut suck in and her heart skip a beat. Together. Her hand moved to her chest and Callista took a careful few breaths. Before she just looked at Rembrandt. It was a first step. Away. But together. "Please? I can't do it alone." The hand in his flexed and Callista found herself getting closer. A lick of her lips, "I... I can grab a few things and... Then we can go?"

"Go," he said and squeezed her hand again. His gut tightened in a coiled knot and he held his breath.  "Better yet, I'll help you." 

Standing, he gestured for her lead the way.  "I think it might be best to make haste."

A small hesitant smile and Callista reached for his hand, bringing it to her lips after a moment and taking a breath. There were no words.

She was quick about it, packing a small bag of clothes and finally, a stash of money Bart had kept aside. Of course she knew what it was from. It made her slightly ill to take. Finally, with a few of her belongings and what money she could grab tucked away. "Let's go." Were her hushed whispered words, holding Rembrandts are tight to her.

Rembrandt looked around, listening, waiting for any sign or sound of Carn.  He had to be lingering about somewhere nearby. Rem didn't trust the quiet about them.  There was nothing out of the ordinary and that only perturbed him more.  Rembrandt released a slow steady breath when she was ready to go at last.

Once they departed, he  hurried them down the street, turning down several alleys and brushed his shoulder against a man's briefly, his face altering in the blink of an eye.  He tucked Callista's arm in the crook of his and pickpocketed small items of interest, laying a necklace on her here, and a pair of earrings on her there. 

Before anyone knew it they made one sharp, distinguished pair.

A scrunch of her nose and Callista was more interested in watching Rembrandt be Not Rembrandt anymore. Be the Face Stealer. At least she didn't have to kill him. Like Rembrandt had been worried about Reinier was nearby, a momentary glance, a face in the crowd. Perhaps not following them, but simply interested in what they were doing. A display he was intent on viewing.

As Rembrandt changed, Callista did too. Her chin was up and she tucked her hair over her shoulder to hide what she could of the scars at her neck. Though, curiosity got the better of her and she held onto his hand, giving his fingers a tug. "Where are we going?"

Rembrandt squeezed her hand in return.  "To my room at the theatre, just for a minute.  Got to grab something I've kept there for safe keeping."  He looked at her and smiled just a little.  But it was forced.  "Did Carn ever hurt you once he was in human form?  Physically?  Mentally?"

A tilt of her head and she followed him, part of her curious as to why there was such urgency. Callista nodded at him, though there had been no struggle from her before, there was still none now. Only curiosity. It made her smile. His question had her blink and she stared at him for a moment, "No?" Had he? A careful breath and she simply shook her head, "I don't think so. I would know, right?"

Rem slowed his walk just enough so that she could keep pace with him, but still maintained it steadily.  "I only ask because I wonder if Carn would at all care if I took you away with me.  Would he hound us?  Would he kill me for taking you away?"  His eyes were not accusatory, nor was his tone.  Instead it was almost a playful curiosity with which he spoke, but was genuine nevertheless.

Callista pursed her lips, still rushing to keep up - his legs were longer than hers after all. A shake of her head, "I don't know." A nibble at her lower lip and she simply watched Rembrandt while they walked, "He's..." A shake of her head, "Carn is scary."  A wide eyed stare up at Rembrandt, "He was powerful as a dagger and now... He... He made himself grow." A careful breath, a shake of her head, "I... I think Carn has for important things he needs to do than... Find me."  Her hand pressed to her stomach briefly, "He used me for what he needed... Now it's... Maybe it's on to someone else now." Shaking her head again she took a careful breath.

"What do you need to get?"

Onto someone else now.  But the question remained in Rembrandt's mind: who and why? He wasn't going to lie.  There was some curiosity as to just what Carn was. He terrified Callista, a woman whose only fear had once been the reprisal of her master.  If Carn did care and decided to take all this very personally, one could only guess what might happen in that aftermath.

Rem kept on however, somewhat thrilled at the danger of all this.  It was more than he'd imagined he'd get into in months.  "A trinket.  Something my father gave me in case of a rainy day.  Maybe he did care after all."  It was a fleeting thought.  "Something to help us."

They were getting closer the theatre now and Rem frowned a little, unsure as to why.  "I feel like I might never see this place again," he said quietly.  "Somehow...I'll miss it."

Help them?

Again with the plural.

Callista couldn't quite believe it.

What had been cool disinterest had turned into him holding her hand and heading to pick up some trinket. Not that she was going to complain. It was a thing she didn't even dare to imagine. An outcome that she had been hoping for the night she'd given Carn life.

A second chance.

Taking a careful breath, Callista nodded to Rembrandt and gave his hand a squeeze. "You will, I'm sure." An unsure smile because she didn't really understand why he would be missing such a place. Callista wouldn't. It was his home though, she supposed and she brought his hand to her mouth to kiss the back fleetingly. Gently.

"What's the trinket? How will it help?"

"A ring.  A magic ring.  I guess its not that remarkable enchantment-wise, but I'll show you once inside."  He  led them into the rear of the theatre, and once inside his dressing room, he moved toward the dresser in the corner.  A secret compartment revealed a small silver ring, one he slipped on his finger and abruptly vanished.

He took it off just as quickly and reappeared.  "Invisibility.  A fine tool in a sticky situation."

A magic ring.

Callista tilted her head and watched him for a moment while they walked. Waiting, she hovered when they were in his dressing room, keeping her hands to her self. Fingers holding at the folds of her dress. Looking away for a moment, she looked back and her jaw dropped.

"Rembrandt?!"

She took a step forward only for him to reappear and she just stared, wide eyed.

"Carn could shroud us in shadow. Make us invisible in a different way." Callista licked her lips and took a careful step forward, eyes on the ring. What a peculiar item. It didn't even talk. "Carn got me out of a lot of trouble that way." A tilt of her head.

"Why do you hide it?"

"Well, if I just went around with a lovely ring on my hand, or someone rummages through my pockets to find it, well, it just might go missing.  I couldn't have that.  Maybe it was the only thing my father gave me that was of any real use...other than my little gift with the face changing," he said and paused a moment, frowning.

He held the silver ring at the center of his hand.  "Carn has a lot of gifts doesn't he?  Even can change his face too right?  That's unnerving."

Callista rubbed her hands together, "I think... I think he can change his face because of you." A shake of her head, "Carn was pleased when he realized he could do it." A careful breath and she was careful to stare not anywhere near Rembrandt.

"That is a frightening thought," he said with a soft whisper and stepped in toward her.  He kissed her brow.  "We best get underway then yes?"

The kiss surprised her and she looked up at him, wide eyed. A small smile pulled at her lips in their lopsided way and she nodded at him, offering out her hand. "Let's go. Do... Do we have a place to go? Do you know... what you're doing?"

Did he ever know what he was doing?  Did he ever think that maybe he was making a terrible mistake?  Most likely. Even in this instance, Rembrandt could not say he wouldn't come to regret this later. He could only think of the now.  And now they had to leave.

"Cerenis," he said, thinking aloud.  "We go to Cerenis.  I have some gold on me.  And more stashed away.  Sometimes its good to keep things for safekeeping. We get a caravan and we hitch a ride to that city by the sea."

City by the sea.

Callista chewed on her lip and stared off at a wall for a few moments, not quite sure how to process leaving Arca. The earliest of memories were in Arca. Taking his hand in hers she tugged it closer to her chest and threaded her fingers through his. "I have gold on me, too. I can help." A steady breath, pressing the back of his hand to her chest.

"Have you been there before?"

"I have memories of it.  I have been to many places.  And Cerenis is beautiful.  The water, the ocean.  Have you ever seen one before?" he asked.  He was almost certain that she'd hadn't but who knew just where her previous jobs had taken her.

His fingers turned in her hand, pressing his palm against her chest and feeling her heartbeat.  "It's racing...." he said gently.  "Are you frightened?"

"I'm terrified," Callista whispered running her fingers over the top of his hand. Slowly she drew her hand down his arm and she moved his hand up so she could press herself into his arms. "I don't remember anything outside of Arca. I've never seen the ocean." Pulling away she ran her hands up his chest to cup his cheeks, "you've shown me so many wonderful things. Show me more?" Softly spoken, she gave him a small hesitant smile.

Ready to go as ever but rooted to the spot all the same.

"We can only go as long as our feet carry us," Rembrandt found himself saying somberly.  He took Callista's face in his hands and leaned in, not quite close enough to kiss her, but a breath away all the same.  "If we leave, we can't come back.  Not for a while at least.  You're the only person I'd ever consider calling a friend...  If we go together, there can't be any lies between us.  Can I trust you, Callista?"

His eyes were glossed over and his tone was imploring, as if this was the one and only moment he might open up to another soul in his life.  Rembrandt had survived as long as he'd lived on his own, but now he had another life in his hands, and he supposed, much in the same way, his was in her.

A gentle shake of her head, "I haven't lied to you," she whispered. Callista leaned back to look into his eyes, her thumb drawing over his cheek. "I've never lied to you. Even when I wanted to." Lying and not telling him everything weren't the same, right? As much as she wished she could pretend she wasn't some broken shell of a human being she knew that, on some level, she'd always be such a thing.

"You can trust me. Please. If... If you ever feel like I might betray that you can..." Her thumb moved again, fingers moving to gently pass over his lips, "You can leave me behind. Never look back." A small sad smile, "I hate being alone but... I won't follow you if you ever want to... Want to walk away."

There were pangs in places that he'd known should only be if a blade had struck him in his stomach, deep and unrelenting.  Rembrandt wasn't sure he liked the feeling, but it didn't seem bad to him either.  If anything, it made him feel more alive.

He kissed her then, long and hard, pulling onto her bottom lip like it was a lifeline before pulling away.  "Then let's leave this place," he said.  Perhaps her answers were not definitive but they were enough for him.  For now anyway.

Pushing herself into the kiss she let him pull away, though her hands itched to bring him closer. Callista had found she liked the contact, head still up turned she licked her lips and smiled at him. "Okay." What else was there to say? She'd never left before. Being alone was a big step.

Now she wasn't alone.

Wouldn't be home though and she clasped Rembrandts hand tightly in her own, taking deep steadying breaths. "I might have enough money to get us there," and now she sorely missed the dagger. The shadow magic. The ability to be nearly invisible.

It was easy to forget how most of those sneaky murdering abilities were her's alone. It was easy to forget that alone she was as deadly as ever. "Do we leave now? Can we leave now?" A shake of her head, "I don't know how."

"We use our feet, of course," he said, smirking and with that they were off, out of the theatre and moving through the city.

Rembrandt didn't know when or where they would get a carriage out of the city.  But hanging out by merchant's that were loading up goods seemed like a good idea.  Eventually one man seemed like a viable target, and after a few exchanged words and a load of coin in his hand, he agreed to take them through the Riverlands.

It was a start after all.  And it seemed such things were getting harder to come by.

Afraid was a good word.

Anxious was better and she pressed a hand to her chest to calm herself. Heart racing. Feeling queasy.  Carefully she breathed deeply and closed her eyes. This shouldn't have been so strange... Leaving Arca should be a thing people did normally. Callista however, once Bart had bought her, she'd never left. The flower shop had been her home and prison for so long.

A distraction.

Callista's hand sought Rembrandts and she grabbed it, threading her fingers through his while she took careful breaths. "Talk to me," She demanded gently, finally looking him in the eye, anxiety clear on her face. "About anything. About you. Tell me... Tell me about your childhood or... Or about going to work in the theater."

Her hand broke his own musings, and he wasn't sure he was comfortable with such contact, in a setting where even he wouldn't know the outcome.  He felt the tension in her grip and he frowned, looking at Callista.  A girl who had never known uncertainty was now on her own - so to speak - and the terror therein.

Rembrandt squeezed her hand back.  He didn't know what to say.  "The sky is blue in the day you know, because it is said that...it is the color of Kia's eyes.  It's all a legend of course, but its an interesting notion.  The clouds too come from her eyes, when she sneezes, that's the wind, and when she cries, that's the rain."

There was a long moment and Callista just stared at Rembrandt before idly looking down at their hands.

"Who's Kia? Sometimes people called to her," A curious tilt of her head and she looked up, as if trying to stare at the sky. "I've never met her though... Have you?"

"Kia is the primary goddess worshipped by most Serenians.  In honesty, I'm not truly certain what she does.  However, people often have faith in the unseen, because it gives them comfort, surety somehow, that there's someone watching over them, guiding their souls to their ultimate fates.  I've never met her.  But I've heard such strange tales in my travels.  Perhaps she actually exists.  Perhaps she is just a story of stories."

Callista frowned at Rembrandt openly, looking up for a moment before moving closer and holding his arm tighter. The idea of some unseen force... Watching her had a shiver crawl up her spine like a slug. Then again, if someone had been watching...

Why let that happen to her? Why let her kill people.

Fleetingly she remembered their first meeting. It was a quiet dread that filled her while she looked at Rembrandt, taking in his features like she'd just seen his face for the first time. " Ultimate fates?" A tilt of her head and she looked away, seemingly thoughtful. "What sort of ... Goddess let's... Let's people be treated like I was."

"I can't say.  I've never been any sort of expert on...goddesses.  Not in any religious sense," Rembrandt shrugged and instead of letting Callista lay on his arm, he moved it away and around her shoulders instead, pulling her against his chest. 

"I think if anything, people maintain Free Will.  I mean in terms of ultimate decision.  We...should be responsible for ourselves...  And people always find a way to interfere with other people.  Or use religion as an excuse to hurt other people.  It's all very topsy turvy.  I don't know if Kia would ever sanction such a thing.  It seems to only bring trouble when you think about it."

Snuggled up to her new head rest, Callista frowned at nothing. Trying to imagine if she'd prayed to this Kia... Maybe. Maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe she would have been smarter.

"Rem," Callista said after a short while of silence, finally looking up at him, "I'm so sorry."

Rembrandt was in thought of his own.  He stared off at the passing forest, questioning things about himself he'd long ago held true.  He wondered if Callista ever felt passion, or it's definitive cousin.

"Callista, do you believe in love?" he found himself asking, not having heard her apology.

Pale eyes went wide for a moment and she looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers.

"I do. It makes you vulnerable and weak. It can be twisted into... Into something ugly and hateful." Anger bubbled in her gut. "I thought... I thought I loved my master. I loved Carn. He would listen to me and sing me lullaby's and... I was used. I was nothing more than a stupid tool. My master so he could... whore me out and kill his targets and Carn so that...."

Callista pulled away from Rem's chest having grown silent, moved so she could stare down at her knees, her fingers that gripped at the fabric of her clothing, "Love is very real and in the right hands it's a powerful emotion." 

Rem listened intently to her anger, unable to look at her, and not allowing her tone to get the better of him.

He wanted to remain impartial.  He wanted to stay inert, for his own safety.  For his sanity.

"Do you love me?" he asked, when she was finished.

Callista went still.

Did she love him?

"I would die for you," the words love had been tainted for her, they were... Not the right words. In her mind love was a cruel thing that had her used and abused. If she loved Rem, Callista thought, would he whore her out? Would he used her to achieve his goals and then cast her aside?

But in a moments notice, he took her away. To be safe.

Gently she rose a hand, pressing the back of it to his cheek, "I care about you. I don't ever remember smiling before I met you, you make my heart pound and... You make me feel good. I feel that for you."

The word was foreign to him.  It was something he'd never felt before, never thought he would feel for anyone else.  But the way she said it.  He knew what she meant, what she was trying to get it.

Yet, somehow the thought made him frown.  "But...you don't love me..."  Her inability to say it hurt more than he was prepared to take.  Rembrandt looked out across to the wildness once again.

"They say the gods love us.  They made this world for their creations.  But yet they do nothing to stop us from hurting ourselves," he said quietly, somberly.  "And yet people say they love us still.  It's all very hard...to piece together."

Callista pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes for a moment before she moved, rising to her knees and bolding throwing a leg over Rem's waist, tucking herself so she was chest to chest with him.

"I feel everything for you that that word represents." Callista explained, frowning slightly. Why wouldn't he understand? "When you walked away that night, even thought I told you to I..." Callista lowered her head, "I felt so empty. I'd ... always been empty but... I'd never felt so awful. Like I had a hole in my chest. The thought of you hating me made me angry and sad and... After pushing everything away for so long..."

"Do you care about me?" The words were whispered, her head was still tucked down and she moved her hands down to rest on her legs, while she was still sitting on his lap.

The truth was, he didn't know himself.  He wanted to say the words, but they latched painfully into the fabric of his tongue.  Rembrandt felt his eyes burn, snd he wrapped arms around her waist.  And embraced her.

"I don't know...  You are the only friend, I've ever really had.  I've never loved anyone before," he said, breathing into her shoulder.  "I wish you could say it.  No one has ever said it to me before. I understand why you can't.  I can understand pain.  I'm sorry they ruined it for you..."

So strangely vulnerable.

Callista smiled slightly at the criteria for her 'love', her fingers diving into his hair to hold his head to her shoulder while she nuzzled at his temple. "You make me feel vulnerable," she kissed his temple, "and weak." Urging his head from her shoulder, she tilted his face up to press a gentle kiss to his lips before pressing the scarred side of her face to his forehead, embracing him again.

Then the rest of the words sunk in and she ran her hands up and down his back, finding it odd to comfort something. This was how they did it right? Made soothing noises? Moved in soothing ways? "Maybe one day. When... When the word doesn't taste bitter. When it doesn't bring bad memories. When I think of the word and all I'll think of is you and how you make me feel... They ruined it for me, but... Maybe being with you can help me fix it."

"Maybe," Rembrandt murmured, nuzzling into her shoulder and squeezing her close.  "And to answer your question, I think I do care.  I...just didn't know what to feel about it.  We'll think of something."

With that he turned his head upward and kissed her long and deep.

Callista returned the kiss with vigor, pushing her fingers through his hair to pull Rembrandt closer. Her face stealer. Her shadow. Pulling away, she gave a nip at his lips before nuzzling her forehead to his.

"What a pair we are. Neither of us know how to feel."

"You love birds finished, or do I gotta watched the whole show the entire ride?" griped one of the passengers on that caravan.  He shook his head and averted his gaze.

Rembrandt shook his head in turn.  "No sir.  Sorry sir."  He just smiled at Callista.  "We are an interesting pair indeed."

Embarrassment was a foreign feeling. Being naked in front of strangers had been her job. The heat in her cheeks was unfamiliar and Callista's eyes went wide and she slowly removed herself from Rembrandts lap, head down, doing her best to hide her face.

It was easy to forget there were other people around.

Maybe that was...

"Sorry," Callista said softly, casting a quick glance towards the disgruntled man.

"Well... Um... Want to play a game?" Her voice was soft and she rested her arm against Rembrandts, looking up at him expectantly, "It was the only one I could play with Carn, since all he had was an eye."

Rembrandt ignored further complaints from the passenger.  He just smiled and nodded to Callista.  "Sure.  What game did you have in mind?"

Without breaking eye contact she gave him a bright smile, gave a look around before she smirked, "I spy, with my little eye... Something... Brown!" 

It was the wood. It was obviously the wood.

"Oh, I see!  You wish me to find what you are looking at, yes?  Okay, is this brown thing  big or small.?"  Having never played the game before, Rembrandt didn't want to just jump to conclusions.

Callista grinned again, looking thoughtful for a moment but not too long at the object she was trying to explain.

"Mmm... Big." That'll throw him off.

Something big and brown.  "Is it...the carriage!?" he asked, certain he got the answer.

A simple elbow bump against his arm and she smiled.

"Well... Close enough. It was the wood." Placing her hands in her lap she smiled at him, eyes wide and expectant. "Alright, it's your turn!"

"I hadn't realized I'd be so shockingly bad at this," Rembrandt said with a laugh.  He looked around, trying not to make it so obvious.  "Okay, I spy with my little eye, something blue..." The sky of course. She must be better at this game than he.

Blue.

What was blue?

Callista looked around the carriage and frowned, lips pursed before she crossed her arms over her chest. Not having looked outside or even thought of the sky. "I don't know," Pouting, leaning against Rembrandt.

The rest of the trip was as uneventful as the game they played and finally after who knows what amount of time - Callista didn't really want to know - they stopped for the day. Or so she thought. "Remy," She started, moving her hand to his to curl her fingers into his palm. There were people outside.

Frowning slightly, her eyes went cold. Her expression softened.

"Do you have a knife?" A curious tilt of her head and she stood up, dragging her hand up his arm to cup his face and keep it focused on her. "I think there may be bandits." Or a town. It was new though and new to Callista had always been either very good or very, very bad.

Part of him grew saddened to see her give up so easily.  But he did not hold it against her. Instead he too left it at that and curled his arm around her.  He was getting used to this closeness, although reminded himself to remain wary.  Good things didn't always last long and he wanted to enjoy them as long as they did.

When the carriage stopped in the first town in what felt like a whole day, Rem turned to Callista.  "A knife?  For what?"  But he knew for what.  He just nodded to her.  "We'll be safe.  Don't worry.  Nobody will hurt you."

It wasn't bandits.

It was just people.

Callista frowned between Rembrandt and the outside and finally. Finally did she look up. "Oh," the 'bandits' were forgotten and she grabbed Rembrandts hand, pulling it between two of hers while she leaned out.

"It's blue! The sky." A grin, the sparkling one that reached her eyes, she gave him a gentle nudge on the arm, rolled her eyes, "I thought it was in the carriage, I was looking for... Well." A sigh and she held his arm, looking out hesitantly. The man who had been driving the carriage came around back.

"We're stopping for the night," He eyed Callista and Rembrandt in their Not-Quite-Embrace-Embrance and she frowned at him, the spark flickering away.

Slowly she turned to Rembrandt and blinked at him, "What does that mean? We stopped? We're staying here? I've never been somewhere else before... What do I do?"

There was something in the gleam of her eyes when she noted the sky, that made Rembrandt's stomach stir.  It was such an unusual feeling, like something was trapped inside and was trying to tickle him to get out.  It was sickening, and yet refreshing.  Somehow, anyway.

"Don't worry," he said, nodding to her.  "I'll do the talking.  Try to relax.  I suspect it means we can find a room to sleep in for the night, assuming it's a town we stopped in.  It's only one stop in our journey."

Rem helped her out of the carriage and took her off where the other passengers were taking small bags into the few nearby inn's.  Some heading straight for bars.  But Rem certainly didn't feel like drinking tonight.

Callista followed close to Rembrandt, looking around curiously. A bit like a bird, her steps were small, her head was turning every which way to watch people. Sure, she'd been from Arca. The whole city was familiar to her. There wasn't a chance of her getting lost there, whether she'd travel by rooftops or streets.

Being unfamiliar made her twitch and uncomfortable and with each passing moment she drew closer and closer to her traveling companion. Frowning boldly, doing her best to hide behind her hair. Self conscious about the scars on her face and neck. Slowly she moved a hand to press against her neck, touch the scars there, hide them.

"Do you need money?" She looked up at him, frowning gently her hands went to the pouch she'd taken from her house. Carn's house. "I can... We can use this. Go to sleep and... We keep going to tomorrow right?" Looking up at the sky she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before she made a small attempt at smiling, hesitant as it was.

"I've learned how to sleep during the night instead of during the day," She said softly in a teasing tone, "It was far more difficult than I anticipated. I had to sleep with a candle on, otherwise it was too dark and lonely."

"Yeah, money could help us secure a room.  Any room will do," Rembrandt said.  He nodded to her, received coin, and paid for room and board.  It was always good to never show how much gold you had, not that they had much to begin with.  But perhaps Rembrandt was just overly cautious by instinct.  It didn't hurt be prepared.

Once alone, Rem pulled her close to him and kissed her on the cheek.  "I'm afraid I don't see any candles in here.  Just a soft lantern on the table.  Will that suffice?"

Slowly Callista placed her hands on his shoulders, turning her head to catch the corner of his mouth when he kissed her cheek. At the mention of the lantern she frowned at him, looking around "are you leaving? I don't need a lantern if you stay."

"I'm not going anywhere.  I'm weary from all that sitting," he said, grinning and kissing the corner of her mouth, letting his lips linger.  "We can still use the lantern.  Make shadow puppets with our hands."

Instead, Callista took his face between her hands and kissed him boldly on the lips, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a long hug. Snuggling as close as she could get before she leaned away and looked up at him.

"Shadow puppets?" Callista looked to the lantern then back at Rembrandt, "Us? Or..." A thoughtful look and she made a bunny with her hand, simulating it bouncing around, "This?"

"Both maybe?" He smiled and he leaned in closer, holding her close to him and dancing a little.  He nuzzled his face against her neck, kissing along her throat.

Callista sighed, nuzzling her face against his ear, going up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Do you think we're shadow rabbit puppets?" She whispered against his cheek, leaning back to smile, entertained at the idea more than anything. "When do we need to be up to continue on?"

Rembrandt continued his kisses down her neck, up along her throat and to her chin where he finally settled on her lips, lightly pecking at them.  "Early in the morning I imagine.  Perhaps somewhere in the realm of 4 in the morning," he whispered against her ear.  "We can make shadow puppets in the mean time."

He let her go, but for a moment to light the lantern and removed his booths and jacket, draping them over his bag, and he sat on the bed. "Come sit by me."

Four in the morning.

That wasn't too bad.

The whispers to her ear sent a shiver down her spine and blush upon her cheeks. She watched him leave, remove his boots and jacket. Take a seat. Callista also removed her shoes and considered for a moment to remove her stockings before she decided against it and instead simply sat beside Rembrandt.

"Yes?" Their legs were touching and she kept her hands in her lap, pressing her fingers between her knees while she stared down at the floor. "Is there something wrong?"

Rembrandt opened his palm and pulled her hand towards his, threading their fingers together.  "Why would you ask that? Nothing is wrong,"  he replied.  "Is something wrong for you?"

Callista smiled down at their hands.

"Well... I don't know where I'm going. I have no master. I'm quite unfamiliar with everything and if we have sex I may get pregnant so I don't want to do that." Callista rattled off what was possibly wrong before she gave his hand a squeeze, "But I like the little touches. And the kisses." Her thumb ran over the skin on his hand and she took a slow careful breath.

"I missed you," She whispered, head down, hair obscuring her face, " A lot. So much more than I'd ever missed anyone."

He smiled still, happy that she was able to be so candid with him.  "I like the little things too," he replied, lifting her hand up to kiss at her pulse.  "I like the feel of your blood racing when I kiss you.  I like the sound of your breath hitching..."

He leaned in to kiss her fully, tongue seeking hers, holding her close.  "I missed you deeply as well."

"You did?" Callista whispered against his lips, looking at him, eyebrows drawn up.

"Truly?" Swallowing carefully she brought her other hand up to drift through his hair, draw her thumb over his ear. Trace his cheek and it moved down to draw over his lips. Her face stealer. None of this was supposed to have happened. At first it was Carn. It was always Carn.

"I... I expect you to... To hate and distrust me and I don't blame you if you do still, at least a little." Rising up onto her knees on the bed, she leaned in and wrapped her arms around Rembrandts shoulder, holding him closer, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I deceived you. I'm sorry I let him play me like some instrument and that... That I let you become a victim of that as much as I was."

He could feel the sorrow that racked her body, in her very hold.  He just wrapped his arms tighter around her.  The truth was, he didn't know if he completely trusted her, at least not with his life.  But he had given her something he'd given to no one else.

This.

This intimacy between them.

Rembrandt said nothing for a long moment, just kissed her cheeks and  her lips.  "Just kiss me for now, Callista.  I believe you...and maybe I understand why it happened.  I don't know if I forgive you, but I...still missed you.  You're the only person I've ever missed.  At least, please believe that."

Kiss him she did.

Callista wrapped her arms around his neck and moved for sitting beside him to having a leg on either side of his lap. Her tongue trailed over his lips before she pulled back, staring into his eyes before she kissed his cheek, pressed kisses to his neck and pulse point. "I believe you and it's okay if... If you don't forgive me." Her voice was soft and the words were spoken against his neck, "Because I don't forgive me, either. Though... I'm glad you missed me." Leaning back she gave him a small shy smile before curling tighter into him.

"I thought of you every time I looked at the roses, you know." Which meant that she'd thought of him everyday.

Rembrandt chuckled.  "Well, good.  You should think of me.  I'm magnificent," he said, pointing out his chin. He smiled and cupped her head between his hands, putting his forehead to hers.  "You wanna make those shadow puppets now, or just keep kissing? Not that I mind either way."

Callista pressed her lips to Rembrants one last time before she smiled at him.

"You are magnificent," Then she removed herself from his lap and looked at him expectantly, "I would like to see some shadow puppets. You're also a magnificent actor."

Oh, it was such a childish thing to do, but considering what happened between them, it would help to have something to share that didn't involve excessive weirdness.

"Look, this is a dog!" he said, pulling the lamp closer and pressing his index finger in, raising his thumb and moving his pinky to mimic barking.  "Woof woof!"

Callista gave an exaggerated clap, grinning all the while.

"It is indeed a dog, that bark had me fooled." A thoughtful look and she leaned over to press a chaste kiss to Rembrandts cheek, enjoying that he was humoring her with the shadow puppets. A thoughtful pause and she reached her hand out, making the bunny again, "And this? This is a rabbit and..." Her mouth opened and she paused, frowning, "What noises do rabbits make? I've never actually seen one."

Rembrandt blushed, feeling his cheeks grow flushed.

"Oh, um.  Bunnies...just kind of hop around don't they?" he asked, laughing a bit and leaning in against her Callista.  "Oh, this is a person, running in to your bunny."  He turned his hand over and walked along with his index and middle finger. "Oh, what a lovely day!  How are you Ms. Bunny?" he said in a high pitched voice.

Callista laughed, though she quickly sobered up when the human came to chat to Ms. Bunny.  Still smiling she had the shadow rabbit bow before Callista frowned gently. "Rembrandt," Her hand lowered and she pouted at him, looking a little confused, "Rabbits can't talk."

"Feel free to pretend they can talk," he suggested.  "Well, Ms. Bunny, you're awfully quiet today.  Are you feeling okay?"

Pretend.

Callista could pretend.

"Oh yes, Ms.Human, I'm just fine." Wiggling the rabbits ears at the human shadow, Callista watched their hands before she smiled at the wall, "Perhaps a little homesick but, can't go back there!" Ms.Bunny's ears drooped and she had the rabbit lean in, "And you Ms.Human? How are you? Good, I hope. No tragedy? I hear those are awful."

"Oh, I'm just going for a walk.  Why don't you come with me, Ms. Bunny?  No need to fret on the lost and the damned.  We'll just go for a nice quiet walk," he said, smiling as he did so, and leaned in to kiss Callista on the cheek.  A part of him wanted to make love, to express something in more than just kisses, and he wondered if those sheathes he'd purchased earlier that month might be put to use.  Better safe than sorry.

"The world has much to offer, Ms. Bunny.  So much beauty to be had.  Don't let yourself stay down," he said, high-pitched again, playing along.

So much beauty to be had.

Callista slowly dropped the rabbit down, her hand curling up in her lap and she stared at Rembrandt for a moment. Her hand went to Ms.Human and she threaded their fingers together, rubbing her thumb over his before she brought his hand to her mouth to place a kiss on the back of it.

"Do you believe that?" Callista asked, holding his hand in her lap, "I've seen... I've done terrible things. Do... Do you really think there's still beauty in anything?" A sad look filled her features and she quickly looked from him to down at the floor, "Do you think I deserve any of that?"

Rembrandt sealed her hands around his, smiling at how well they fit together.  It was all so new and fascinating, the little touches, the graces, the kisses.  He surprised himself how much he craved it.

"I think people should do what they can to be happy.  I think you deserve to be happy, even after what you did.  I'm no saint, and I don't try to be.  But I enjoy my life, and I would only wish you to find some joy in it for yourself.  Do you think that's possible?" he asked, leaning against her hand and kissing her wrist.

Enraptured she gave a shuddering sigh when he kissed her wrist, eyes closing for a moment before she tried to smile. "I can try. I've experienced joy... Three times," Callista stated, "Once, when we were dancing, again when we..." Callista blushed hotly and looked down at her lap, "When we... Made love on the breakfast table," Clearing her throat she looked up, "And... When I saw you again." She didn't mention the pure pain when he tried to get away.

When he wanted nothing to do with her.

But that moment. The split second of seeing him had been joy.

"Broken little pieces can still be fit and fixed. Put back together. It just takes longer." Leaning in she brushed her lips against his, wrapped her arms around his neck before snuggling into the hug, "We should sleep... Or nap. We need to be awake early, don't we?"

Rembrandt nodded to her.  "We can keep the lantern on.  It is a bit comforting.  You had a point in that," he said in a soft whisper, kissing her chin and cheek lightly.  He settled on the bed and invited her to lay against his chest.

A small smile and Callista went about removing her clothing. First the modest dress was removed and while standing in her small clothes she undid her braids, finger combing her hair, putting the ties beside the lantern.  It wasn't exactly sensual, the way she removed her clothing - Callista had no ulterior motive or intentions. Again she was covered in scars, faded ones, most of them on her back, though now she had new ones. 

Stretch marks.

Callista turned away from him when she remembered them, quickly running her hands over them, a flush of shame climbing up her neck, presenting her back to him and the myriad of scars there before she removed the rest of her clothing and carefully curled up on the bed, tucking her head against his chest like she'd been invited to.

"Sleeping in clothing is uncomfortable," She finally said, feeling like she had to explain why she got undressed, "I don't have any ulterior motives in case you were worried about that."

"I'm not worried," Rembrandt said, noticing how she moved in shameful ways.  She had nothing to be ashamed of...what appeared on her body was a  facet of circumstance...but she need not be ashamed of it.

He pulled an arm around her and kissed her neck.  "It's okay.  I'm used to fine pajamas...and frankly these pants are itchy."  He laughed and plopped his head against the pillow, giving an exhausted sigh.

"Unless you wanted me to remove my clothes too.  I'd hate for you to be itchy as well."

Callista gently bit her lip and looked nervous.

"I want you to," She said softly, running her hand up his torso, "We don't... Have to do anything but..." It was unusual for her to blush, feeling nervous and blushing was something she didn't do. Didn't used to do. Now though, these were all her choices and there were very serious things that happened when she made them.

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable. So if you'd be... More comfortable... I want you to do that one."

"I'll leave underclothes on to keep from any accidents.  For your sake as well as mine," he said with a laugh and removed his pants and shirt.  He didn't care about their placement, and they found their way being thrown over a chair.

He settled back into bed, sighing as he did so.  "So exhausted," he murmured.  "I could sleep like the dead."

Callista settled back in beside him, though she frowned slightly. Confused.

"Accidents?" Leaning back to look him up and down before she rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. It felt nice, to be so close to someone. Something she'd never realized she craved.

"Sleep then, you can explain what accidents are in the morning." And soon enough her eyes were closed, though she didn't fall asleep for a long while.

He tried to.  But Rembrandt raised and turned and grew hot on the sheets.  He tossed them off and stared at the ceiling.  He
Beside him he could feel Callista, and he turned to her kissing along her neck and wishing he could fall asleep.

The kisses roused her from her not-quite-sleep not-quite-awake state and before long she was facing him. One leg propped up on his torso so she could curl up better against his side. Callista leaned in, catching his lips with her own before she nuzzled at them, eyes closed before she rest her head on his shoulder, drawing idle patterns on his chest with her finger tips.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was a whisper and she kissed the flesh close to her face, "you can't sleep now?" Licking her lips, her hand trailed down his abdomen to gently brush along his hips, "I know some tricks to make you tired. If you like."

Rembrandt responded to those kisses.  Body grew heated and buzzed from her touch and he kissed her with vigor, tiredly caressing her, wrapping an arm his waist.

"Yeah," he whispered.  He leaned over her, kissing her deeper.

"I haven't been able to sleep for a while now... "

Callista looked up at Rembrandt, looking concerned. Her hand moved from his hips up to pushed his hair from his face, trace her fingers over his forehead.

"At all?"  A few tired blinks and she leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, "Or just now?" Though she continued on, trying to sooth with her hands over his shoulders and back.

"What's wrong?" Callista spoke in a whisper, like if she asked it any louder the moment would shatter into a million pieces, "Should we turn off the lantern?"

Her touch chilled him.  Sending tingles down his spine.

Rembrandt smiled at her, eyes glittering in the dim lantern light.  "I've simply had a lot on my mind..." he whispered.  "But I guess, I want to make love to you...but you're right, it could result in another child.  I haven't seen you in so long, I've just...been lonely."

Drawing her hands up and down his back she leaned away to look up at him better, shifting her legs to cradle him between her hips. "We can," she whispered, "you just... cant inside. I don't have anything to prevent it." Callista pushed her fingers through his hair, eyes closing. "I didn't think you'd ever want to do that with me again," she whispered, eyes drifting closed, "not after what happened."

"I do.  I know.  I can...pull out when I get to that point," he whispered, shifting down his small clothes until theu were flesh to flesh.  "I do want you. I hope you know that."

Callista gave a chuckle though it quickly turned into a heated sigh against his lips.

"Well, would we be in this situation if you didn't?" She teased, leaning up and shifting her hips again to cradle him more comfortable. Her fingers gently moved up and down his back before they moved to rest in his hair, pulling him down for more kisses.

"I... I haven't done this since that morning," she whispered to him, a little hesitant, a little unsure of herself. Sex had always been a tool before, a means to an end. "It might not be very good."

Rembrandt gasped at the feel of her heat.  He laughed a bit at her words.  "I'm sure you're not so rusty.  You are beautiful and vibrant and I only would encourage you to guide me to your pleasure.  I care for you, Callista.  I want only to please you."

He gave a laugh.  "I never thought I would say that to anyone."

A bright smile at his laugh and she ran her hands up and down his sides, eyes closing briefly before she got comfortable. Callista opened her eyes briefly, looking up at him curiously.

"I never thought I'd hear that from anyone," she whispered truthfully, leaning up to press her lips to his in a gentle movement. "My Shadow," she reached her hand up to cast a shadow from the lantern onto his face, "I'm glad you use your face around me," Callista whispered, moving her hand to trace his features, draw her thumb over his lips.

"I don't care if you please me," A little shift of her hips, nudging them together where she could, "I just want to be close to you. Clothed, unclothed, you make me feel not so broken." She sighed out, giving a small smile, though there hadn't really been a moment where she didn't at least look pleased.  "I care for you, far more than you can imagine I do. "

If Rembrandt thought about it further, he would no doubt realize that they were both indeed broken.  He was not under any illusion that he was perfect, but it had become easy to mask his loneliness with the lives of others.  He had none of his own, no identity, no true companions.  And in their shared brokenness perhaps he would think that somehow their pieces might fit together to make them both less so.

Rembrandt kissed her deeply, holding her body close as he felt his sex slip within her, fitting in deep, gasping in remembrance.  "But I want to please you," he said, moaning in her ear.   He began to move, hand slipping down and holding her thighs snug against him. 

Easy to mold. While she'd been broken, Callista had always been adaptable. The woman she could have been was long gone - beaten and bruised back while she'd been a slave to that flower shop. Still, slowly she was learning and she'd never been one to turn down a lesson. A lesson on how to live.

Callista's eyes closed when he pushed into her. A quiet gasp into his ear, fingers tensing at his flesh where her hands were. It was unfamiliar and familiar all at once and she found herself trembling from the sensations. "Rem," She gasped into his ear after he'd seated himself inside her, "You please me. You make my heart full to bursting. You make me full to bursting," Leaning back, making an attempt to look down between them. She'd never been one to judge a man but she quickly looked back up at him, giving him a sly eyed accusing look.

"They don't just get bigger do they?" a curious shift of her hips, confusion was plain on her features, "It feels different."

Rembrandt was flush for more than one reason.  Eyes flashed open at her statement.  He grunted a bit, adjusting himself within.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said.

Callista grinned up at him, reaching up to poke his cheek.

"You feel different," a tilt of her head, "maybe I feel different." Wrapping her arms around his neck she nuzzled at his ear and closed her eyes, giving her hips encouraging undulations. "I like doing this because I want to." A strange statement, but a true one from her none the less.

"Maybe that's different. It's been since before I saw you last," her voice was soft, eyes bright, "I don't want to do this with anyone but you." She whispered against his lips, holding him as close to her as she could.

"Different?" he asked, chuckling and leaning into her caresses.  He liked her touches, the soft ones that sent shivers down his back.  He worked his hips in slowly against hers, feeling out her walls, and almost chuckling at a thought.  "Well, if you think I switched out my cock for anyone else's you're wrong."  He kissed her softly, moaning against her lips.

He loved the way she felt, gloving around him so tightly.  He pushed his hips in slow gentle circles, feeling where she hitched or trembled the most.  "It's just the same me, I swear.   I just hope it doesn't disappoint."

That had her freeze slightly.

"I thought you could only change your fa-aaaah..." but then he hit a good spot and she sucked in a breath and curled around him. Knees tucking up along his hips, her words forgotten for the most part. His name was a sigh on her lips and she  continued to draw her divers up and down his back in soothing motions.

"You'd never disappoint me," she whispered, eyes closed. Callista wasn't refering to the sex, the closeness was even good enough if they just rolled over and went to sleep. "Nothing you could do would disappoint me."

At her reaction, Rembrandt returned to that favored spot.  He felt her tremble, and he pulled out entirely to slide back deep within her, finding that spot once again, and rolling his hips against hers, every stroke deep and thorough.

There was only room for little moans and pants, her fingers tightened on his shoulders and each movement had warmth blossom in her belly. Callista tightened her knees against his hips and arched her back, rolling her hips to meet with his. One hand held the back of his neck and the other rested lightly on his shoulder. When it was too much to bear she let out gasping sighs, squeezing her eyes shut. "Rem," she moaned into his ear, voice breathy and higher pitched than usual.

"I'm happy you missed me," She smiled up at him, eyes and smile bright before they closed and she rocked her hips to his, trying to catch that crest of pleasure she could feel blooming. Mostly unfamiliar with it though she just moved with him and waited for him to find his pleasure so she could hold him while they slept.

He continued to work his hips against hers, increasing rhythm and  force.  Already, he could feel himself on edge, the tension building and would soon zenith.

"Come for me, Callista," he practically begged.  He kissed at her throat and  hiked her hips up enough for her to feel all of him.  "Please."

A hot puff of air and she pushed herself into his thrusts, head tipped back. Biting her lip all the same, though her hand moved to clutch at his shoulder.

"Come for you?" She cracked her eye open to look up at him, a small confused smile, "I'm right here."

"Climax," he said, smiling and panting all the same.  "I mean if I please you enough, give in to your pleasure, to your passion."

Callista smiled up at him, gave a little nod and closed her eyes. Moving and writhing under him, little out little moans and hitched breaths. His name was a sigh on her lips and with a gasp she tried to find her pleasure. Nails digging into his back, pulling him as close as she could get him.

It didn't take long before she arched her back, gasping loudly into Rembrandts ear. It was a surprised gasp and she breathed heavily and squeezed her eyes shut, trembling under him, more than content enough to sleep.

When he felt her body tremble, he was almost there and soon his voice caught in his throat.  He pulled out in time, bursting outside her. And leaned into her in the aftermath.  Rembrandt laid his head against her chest, head coated in sweat.

Callista's fingers drifted through his hair, over his neck. No doubt her heart would still be thumping against his cheek. Eyes closed, shifting slightly to cradle him more comfortabley against her.  Leaning to press a kiss to his head, Callists gave him a sleepy smile.

"So you think you can sleep now?"  Her voice was soft and teasing.

Rembrandt shifted over her, coaxing her grip to relax before he moved to lay beside her, slightly away from the mess he'd made on the bed.  He blushed deeply, not only from their endeavor but embarrassment.  He kissed her cheek, turning her toward him.  "I think I can.  I want to say thank you, but it sounds rude," he murmured, kissing along her neck.

A bright sleepy smile was on her face and she pressed kisses to his forehead, her fingers brushing through his hair, over his shoulder. Catching his hand she brought his knuckles to her lips and nuzzled at them.

"You're blushing," her voice was soft though she was entertained all the same, "Why do you blush?"

"I'm...I'm...just kind of embarrassed I...should have brought a sheath.  I think I'll make that investment before we leave.  I like sex with you.  I like sex period, but I like it a lot with you," he admitted, feeling himself blabbling like an infatuated girl.  Gods, what was wrong with him!?

Callista gave Rembrandt a bright grin and a little peck of her lips on his forehead.

"You talk a lot when you're nervous," A tilt of her head, a small smile, "I never enjoyed doing that before I did it with you." Callista could recall telling him as much after their first night together, though she went quiet after a few moments, fingers trailing up and down his neck.

There was a small smile and a teasing lift of her eyebrow, "Did you intend on this? Specifically?"

He blushed a little deeper, trying to hide his face in the pillow, unused to all this attention on him.  But he didn't mind it if it came from her.

"Mmmmmaybe," he said, looking back at her from beneath a mat of disheveled hair.  "I just wanted to be with you.  Although sex is nice when its with the right person.  I'd like to think you're that person.  You're my rose."

Callista gave a surprised laugh, quickly clapping her hand over her mouth. It moved down though and she moved closer to him on the bed, pressing her face next to his on the pillow while she pushed hair from his eyes. "I'm your rose?" She whispered before she snuggled up against his chest, pressing her forehead to his.

"I've got thorns and you're going to hang me upside down to dry to keep me forever?" Though, being a rose sounded far nicer than being a shadow.

"I think it's a compliment," Rembrandt said, pulling her close to him.  Her warmth spread through his body, and the light of the lantern cast shadows across her face.  "I mean, I think you're beautiful even though your  thorns have been clipped, and people tried to hide you away from the world for fear of you ever knowing the warmth of sunlight.  You're my shadow too.  We're shadows together, remember?"

Licking her lips, Callista nuzzled her nose to his, fixed the blankets to their necks and curled her arm around his chest to bundle them together warmly.

"What if I don't want to be a shadow anymore?" She whispered, worried that he'd protest. That all they'd ever be together were shadows, "Would you come with me? I could bribe you, even." She smiled and leaned back to look at his face.

"I'm not sure.  I've...never really been me.  I'm not sure there even is a me," he admitted, frowning.  "I could try.  But I can't make any promises.  I...just want to enjoy this with you, while I can.  Is that what you mean?"

Callista smiled at his frown, leaning into press a kiss to his pouty lips.

"Yes. I've never been me, either." A brief look to the side, "I've always been... A tool. A body to fuck. A body to kill. I've never... " Looking back at him, "I've never been Callista. I've just... Been called that." Leaning in again she smiled, "I like it when you use my name. It makes my skin tingle."

"I like your name too...  Maybe it's just the actor talking, but it sounds so melodramatic.  I like the way it feels when I say it...  But for now, let's go to sleep," he said, smiling, and kissing her cheek.  "You made me all tingly this time.  Tired enough to sleep."

"I like sleep," Callista murmured, tucking herself close to Rembrandt.

"I want to make you tingly all the time," she said softly, smiling. A soft sigh and she turned away, pressing her back to his front, grabbing his arm and wrapping it aroun her middle, pressing his hand to her chest. It wasn't long before her breath evened out and she was sleeping.

Rembrandt pulled her close, face leaning in to take her ear between his teeth and lightly tug on it.  He nuzzled in against her head.  "Goodnight Callista."  He could sleep now, contentedly.  And there were no dreams to behold. 

There were no dreams to behold but wen Callista's eyes popped open she could only shiver and feel like she was being watched. It didn't take long for her to roll around and snuggle into her companions chest, pressing her forehead to his neck and falling back asleep quickly enough.

It was the second time she woke up that she decided to stay such. The trip was forgotten and instead, she only wanted one thing. Rembrandt. Callista pressed her lips to his chest, hand trailing along his abdomen. Pressing kisses to his throat and nuzzling her lips to his. "Reeeemy," she said softly, going back to kissing a his neck and shoulders, "I'm awake, that means you need to be, too."

The dreams did not come at first.  But the nightmares did.  He saw himself being chased by hounds, demonic hellish beasts that tore at his flesh and when he felt something at his neck, he jerked awake, and immediately relaxed upon feeling Callista against him.

He moaned softly at her kisses, and returned those gentle kisses.  "Good morning," he murnured, smiling against her lips.

Callista accepted the kisses, though she leaned back slightly, worried.

Concern drew her features and she pressed her fingers against Rembrandts lips, searching his eyes and face. "Did you have a nightmare?" She whispered, moving a hand to rest over his chest, feeling for his heartbeat.

His breath stilled at her touch.  Rembrandt touched her hand.  "I...didn't sleep well...  I don't always have bad dreams.  But when I do, they can be pretty bad.  I'm just happy you're here with me though, I feel better with you here," he said, kissing exploratively.

That was a new one.

Normally, rather, the norm for her would have been people who woke up with her were going to die shortly after. A deadly snake in the bed to place venom that slowly killed. Sometimes they didn't wake up at all.

Callista pressed kisses back to him before she leaned up to kiss his forehead, eyes closed. "I could sleep here with you forever," Then her eyes popped open, "But we're at an inn and not staying here." Groaning she wiggled down the bed to press her face to his chest, "I don't want to get out of bed and travel again. It's so boring, Rembrandt."

"It is boring," he chuckled and wrapped his arms around her chest.  He brushed fingers through her hair.  "You sound clearly bored.  But we paid to keep going.  Don't you want to go to Cerenis?  See the ocean?"

See the ocean.

Callista looked at Rembrandt over her shoulder before she pressed her hip into his groin to press against him intimately, giving him a nudge before she pushed the blankets away to sit up, stretching her arms high. For the time being she wasn't concerned about the scars that littered her body until she moved off the bed and was standing.

It was a sort of unwilling ritual that she stared down at her belly. A clear memory of what she'd allow to happen. Most hints of playfullness were gone and Callista dropped her head down, staring down at her pile of clothing.

"I'm sorry," Her hands pressed to her stomach before she bent down to pull on her clothing, looking over her shoulder briefly. "I want to see the ocean. I want... I want to be somewhere new."

He grunted at the pressure she placed against his groin, as if her kisses weren't enough to rouse him.  Rembrandt sat up in bed, smiling at her, even as she gazed at the clothing that pooled around her feet.

"You don't need to apologize," he said, smirking, standing up and lingering behind her.  He kissed the top of her spine just at the base of her neck and let his hands trace along her lower back.  "But we should get dressed if we want to make the caravan.  If we hurry, we might even get to eat some real breakfast.  I feel like I haven't eaten in forever.  Although that might just be my uppityness talking."

The kiss at her spine made her shiver and Callista turned around quickly and pressed her lips to his after he'd finished talking. "Alright. Let's hurry so we can get breakfast." A bright smile and she nuzzled her lips to his again before taking a few steps away, running her fingers through her hair to quickly braid it off to the side. A lingering gaze to Rembrandt and she grew warm at the idea of being with him again. To just be. To just exist together.

Whether as shadows or as their own people. Trying to forge some semblance of a real life.

"You're not uppity." she whispered, leaning in again, "You had a long day. A big day. And a long night." Her voice got lower and Callista gave a little secret smile, "Hopefully with a lot more long nights to go."

Rembrandt smiled at her, feeling strangely human in all of this.  He liked it, in the way he felt his flesh for real, in the way she made him feel real.  Clothes slipped back on quickly, although he wished he'd had time for a bath.  When he was ready, he helped Callista put her dress back on and gathered their things, as few as they were.

"Let's go get some food, darling," he whispered, kissing her neck briefly before hooking his arm into hers.

Darling.

Callista blushed, looking away quickly, head dipped down with a little smile on her face. With her arm hooked in his she rested her cheek to his shoulder, eyes closing briefly before she led the way to the dining room. Or the only thing that could be considered the dining room. The smell of fresh bread lingered in the air and Callista closed her eyes briefly.

"Remy," Callista bit her lower lip gently after a moment, "What are we going to do? In Cerenis, I mean." A gentle shake of her head, "I don't want to..." Though she dropped the words, her eyes expressed how much she didn't want to steal. Didn't want to murder. Didn't want to sell her body.

They got a table within the tavern proper, bread set before them, a barmaid carrying over mugs of hot tea.  Rembrandt thanked her and sat before Callista after helping her in.  He reached across and took her hand gently within his own.  "I can't say it'll be easy, but I'll find a way.  I always do," he said, and let his fingers drift along her palm.

He saw the trouble in her eyes and he squeezed her hand.  "I don't own you, Callista," he said.  "You are free to decide whatever you wish.  I just want you to be happy.  I just want to be happy too.  Is that acceptable?"

Be happy. Callista frowned gently down at their hands, fingers curling in slightly when he brushed along her palm, though the frown quickly dissappeared, the skin there ticklish and she closed her eyes briefly. Be happy.

"Yes. I want to be happy." Callista nodded," I want you to be happy too." Though she looked at the bread and the tea, gently taking her hand away. Unfamiliar with such simple contact. Sex was one thing. That was easy. Going through the motions even if it was with someone familiar like Rembrandt. Gentle touches and hand holding was new and while she enjoyed that contact, she really did need her hands to drink her tea.

"Before... When we met. When you were acting," Callista gently shook her head, frowning down at the table, "You weren't happy?"

They were brought hot soup which Rembrandt soaked his bread in a little bit and took small thoughtful bites.  The tea was tasty and refreshing, and woke him up for certain.  "Unhappy?" he mimicked.  "Hmmm, I wouldn't say that.  But I think I was a different kind of happy."

He smiled at her and ate his bread in silence.   His hunger was quickly sated.  He'd never been much of a breakfast person, not when he had to pay for it.  But the money wasn't very much, and the last thing on his mind in this instance.

"Is the food good?" he asked.  "You can ask for something else if you want."

Callista also ate in silence before she looked at him. Finishing her bread and quickly finishing her tea. "It's good," She said. It wasn't a lie but she was saying it to say it. A confirmation of something. She smiled a little and tucked her hands onto her lap, taking a little nervous breath and looking towards the door. Like she was waiting for something.

Nothing happened.

"Did..." Callista frowned down at the table, "Did I ruin it?" A tilt of her head, "Your... Different kind of happy?"

"Ruin...."  Rembrandt finished the rest of his meal and tea quietly.  "I think it remains.  I just learning about a new kind of happy.  Being that way with...you.  I'm sorry if I'm stumbling over my words...  This is all so...new to me.  I've...never been happy with anyone.  All I've ever had was myself."

"Yourself and your faces," She corrected, staring at him, her eyes caressing his features like she was seeing them again for the first time. Callista put her hands on the table, palms down fingers curling under while she tried to put her thoughts together. A brief look upwards and she gave a small hesitant smile.

"I want to be happy with you, too," Her voice was soft and she uncurled her hand to reach out, almost ready to take his hand before she quickly snapped it back, biting her lip and staring down at the table again.

There was history already though. How could he forgive her? Or was he so selfish for his own happiness that he'd let it go so easily.

Having guilt was unfamiliar and she hated how it weighed heavy in her chest.

"I want to make you happy, too." Callista looked up, smiling her lopsided smile. "Can I try? Will you let me?"

In truth he didn't want to think about it.  If he thought about it, it meant he was guilty, of many things best left buried in dust.  This was who he was and he'd long ago accepted it.  He hoped Callista would understand.  He was in an inbetween place, one where he'd reached for her hand, and hoped he could find it there.  He wanted to be free, what he wondered though was if she could free herself.

He returned her smile, finding himself shy.  "I would like to try.  I am curious and I wish to know where this can go."  He gave a small duck of his head, turning away a moment to pay their tab.  "We should go.  We still have a long way to Cerenis."

Callista smiled at Rembrandt, following after him and carefully slipping her hand into his, threading her fingers through his and resting her cheek against his bicep for a few moments. Sleepy still, their activities and the hour they went to sleep and woke up left her tired but... It was worth it. All of this would be worth it.

Had what she'd done to get here been worth it? Her free hand moved up to her cheek, to trace the scar from her cheek. Disfiguring to everyone. "Rem," She started, curious now, "What do you think about my scars?" She fingered the one on her cheek again, idle chatter on their way to the carriage and something interesting to talk about once they were on.

"Do you keep scars or... Can you get rid of them?"

Remmy looked at her scars, the marks on her hands.  He'd never thought about it until now to be frank.  Surely he'd seen them, and they were shocking to be honest.  But he never thought that they were something abhorrent.  They simply were.

"I don't know," he said.  "What do you think of them?  Do you hate them?"

He looked at their threaded fingers, turning hers over so that he could view the back of it.  "I like your hands.  They're slender.  They're strong.  My own scars...I don't keep them if I don't have to.  It makes it easier to slip into the role, you know."

"I hate them," She said simply, smiling up at him before looking at their hands moving her free hand to her neck. One that surely should have killed her. The ones that she wish had killed her. Now she was sort of glad they hadn't. All the memories, right there on her face. Something to stare at when she looked at her reflection.

Callista brought his hand up to press a kiss to the back of it and held it to her cheek for a moment, against her scar. "They're just as bloodstained as yours," She pursed her lips, looking contemplative for a moment, "Probably more." A pause and she remembered their first meeting. He was wearing someone else's face and she held his hand between hers and rest her cheek to his bicep.

"I like all of you," She decided, leaning back slightly and giving him a once over, "Especially your eyes." She wagged a finger at him, "I can tell who you are by your eyes." A lie. Callista couldn't tell who he was when he wore a different face. Perhaps in mannerisms. Maybe one day. She gave a pleased little hum, "When we get to Cerenis, can we just... Spend a whole day in bed? Eat nothing but strawberries and whipped cream?" A bright look in her eyes, "I saw a picture of something like it once in one of Master's risqué books."

Her sweetness did something to his insides, made them curl in and around themselves.  What did that mean?  The feelings were so new, such a nauseating rush that he looked down at their hands and then to her.  She was beautiful to him.  He did not see the scars as a detraction.  How anyone could hurt such a lovely creature was beyond him.  And they deserved only blood.

A smirk twitched at his lips.

"I'd love to lie in bed with you all day.  We can...make our pictures.  Maybe a whole book of them all our own.  I always did love to paint.  There's more art to me than acting."

The most unfamiliar feeling Callista had ever experienced and it was rushing to her cheeks as a blush. "Draw our own pictures?" The idea of having sex and murdering someone was a simple one, but the idea of drawing their own pictures. That was... Intimate. The idea of studying someone enough to draw them. The concept of wanting to spend time doing such a thing. Callista rose their joined hands to press it to her cheek to hide her little smile and the flush.

"I don't know, that sounds like it would take a long time," Still blushy, Callista turned bashful, still with a silly smile on her face before she swung their hands to an unheard beat. They were getting close to the Carriage and she remembered the adverse reaction to their being close together the day before. "I don't think I can do art things," She stated then her expression darkened a little, "I can tell you all about flowers though."

"There's little difference in the caring of flowers and the expression of creativity," Rembrandt said.  He squeezed her hands and smiled.  Once inside the carriage, they took their seats.  "You see, you cultivate it until it's something that blooms into it's maturity, the fullness of itself.  I have sketched.  Admittedly nothing as beautiful as your flowers."

Another pleased little blush and once they were seated she kept her fingers curled around his, shifting slightly to curl around his arm and she rested her cheek against his shoulder, eyes closing before giving a pleased little hum. "The flowers are designed to be beautiful, if they grow, they're going to grow lovely," A tilt of her head and she pressed her lips to his shoulder before giving a little sigh and snuggling in close against him.

It was nice, to feel so safe.

Unfamiliar but Callista found herself quite attached to it already. "You get to... cultivate your ability," Her voice dipped down, "you can use me as your model. Me and the roses."

Onward they traveled.  Where day turned to night and back again.  Rembrandt had remembered the road then, and all the tiredness that came with it.  But soon they would smell the heavy salt of the sea, and when he awoke with the weight of Callista against him, he nudged her.  "Wake up.  Callista, wake up!  Do you smell that?  The ocean."

Alert.

Callista sat up, eyes wide and instantly awake, she stared ahead for a long moment, knowing her companion was saying words but not what. Once there was no danger she relaxed and the words made sense and she stared at him confused for a few moments. "Is that what that is?" She closed her eyes and took it in, the scent of her new home. The one she didn't really deserve.

"Is this a dream?" She asked, fear in her eyes. Honestly worried and concerned that, indeed, she would wake up back at the flower shop and all of this was an awful fever dream. "Please, Remmy, tell me. This is real, right?"

"This is real.  As real as the squeal of wagon wheels."  He sat up and smiled, looking over as they crested the road and over the hill could be seen the bluffs and the waves that splashed up against them.  "Callista.  We are here at last.  I never thought my butt would get out of this seat!"

He leaned into her and kissed her cheek.  "I'm happy to be here with you."

A soft gasp and Callista itched to stand up and watch. It was so ... Beautiful. Tears filled her eyes and she swallowed thickly. Free. She was really free. It hit like a tonne of bricks and she pressed a hand to her mouth before she began to wipe at her eyes. Freedom smelled like the ocean. "Oh, Remmy. It's beautiful," She grinned, leaning into the kiss, "Can we go in it someday?"

The cart wheeled down the hill on the side of the bluff in a slow yet eager lumber.  Most of the people in the back of the wagon were eager to be off, and others to set about their business.  Rembrandt was relieved simply to no longer be sitting.

He nodded to Callista.  "Yes, we can go in it.  Step into the waters.  We'll have our own life here," he said.  He smiled to her and as the city came closer, he squeezed her hand to his side.  They got off, paid their way and passed through the city gates.

Callista didn't get scared. Overwhelmed. Anxious. Never scared. What was there to be afraid of when you were a monster? She threaded her fingers through Rembrandts and held him close. Heart pounding. At one point she pressed her face to his arm while they walked because it was all too much and too new. Callista snuggled in close to his side, braving brief glances around before she looked up at him. "Are you happy?" It seemed like a simple enough question.

While he was not used to the hanging she was doing on his arm, he didn't object to it.  She was Callista, and he found he liked the feel of her touching him, in a manner so unknown to him.  Rembrandt kept her arm tucked in the crook of his as they walked into Cerenis.  It was such a busy town, much like Arca, but there was a beauty to its exhaustion. 

The sea nearby reflected light onto the building, the fishing boats in the distance dancing on the water.

"I think I'm getting there," he murmured.  "I don't know if I was ever...happy."  The last word was whispered as if some deep dark secret.

Calista licked her lips before she paused and moved in front of him, catching his cheek in her hand before she guided him down. "Will you be a little bit happy if I kiss you?"

"You would give little ole me a kiss?" Rem murmured, leaning into her and taking her body into his arms.

Callista smiled, hands on his cheeks before she pulled him down and brushed her lips to his gently. "Rem, lets find somewhere nice to stay. We can go to the besch tomorrow?" A tilt of her head and she stole another kiss. "Figure out... Everything later? After we relax?"

And they did, finding a small comfortable room in a tavern that overlooked a few houses and then to the ocean beyond.  Rembrandt was still reeling from the transition, wondering if this was all for the better. But then he looked at Callista and all doubt faded. 

He sat down on the bed, feeling himself blush, and looking at his hands.

Callista watched Rembrandt, moving to kneel down in front of him. Her hands found him and she looked up at him, threading her fingers through his before she bit her lip. "Why are you blushing?" Her voice was soft and she squeezed his hands, smiling up at him, "are you thinking of something naughty?"

"I never thought I'd find myself here," he murmured, squeezing her hands back.  "You are...  see?  I can't even say what I feel?  It's so strange."

Callista hesitated, frowning at him.

"Do you want a moment alone?" Slowly she started to draw her hands away, looking unsure of herself.

He observed her hands slipping away.  "No," he said, and gripped her hands back, pulling her to him.  "Stay close to me," he said.  "I like you close to me."  He slipped from the bed and kneeling in front of her.  Head dipped down to kiss her softly.

Callista sighed softly, eyes falling closed at the kiss before she cupped his cheeks and smiled at him. "Thank you. Rembrant. Thank you for giving me a second chance. I'll do my best that you don't regret this." Her hands drifted down his shirt to the buckle of his pants, fingers dipping down beneath the fabric, giving him a slow look. A knowing smirk.

"Thank you for...giving me a chance at all," he found himself murmuring.  As her hands explored the cloth of his trousers, his own were moving to the back of her dress, working slowly at the buttons and undoing them.  His head dipped down to her neck and gave wet kisses there, letting them linger and gently blowing on the skin to cool those moist spots.

He made a soft noise when her hand found his manhood.  Rembrandt held her head a moment, kissing her deeply, seeking the heat of her mouth.

Callista pulled away from the kiss, looking oddly happy. Perhaps looking at him a little oddly.

"Giving you a chance?" Gently she removed her hand from his pants and moved her hands to his arms, curling them around his neck before she pulled him close for a hug. Hardly the sexual contact she'd been trying to initiate but a simple hug seemed far more intimate given the situation. Callista pressed her lips to his for a gentle lingering kiss before she pulled away and gave him a look.

"What did you want to do? Here. Together." Hesitant she bit the inside of her cheek and drew her thumb over his lower lip, gazing at his face. "Besides go to the beach," she added with a small smile.

Rembrandt chuckled, leaning into her and while her intimate contact had ceased, his was only just beginning.  He explored her neck curiously, hands roving over her form.  "What I want to do?  I thought you wanted to do it too?" he asked, chuckling against her lips, turning to face her again.

"I want to make love.  That's what it's called isn't it?  Making love?"

Callista laughed, smiling at him, nose brushing against his.

"I mean besides making love. We'll make love until dawn if you like," She whispered, giving him a quick peck on the lips, "But I mean... For a life." She slowly took his hands and rested them at her waist, "I don't know how to live. I was barely learning before I found you again."

"Hmmm.  We can..."  He chuckled a little at the thought.  "We can make a life tomorrow.  Today we rest, yes?  We become familiar with each other again.  I don't know Cerenis very well.  But I'll find work.  Or we can go into busness for ourselves.  We could run a wig shop or something fashionable."

Callista grinned widely at the idea of running a wig shop before she moved to sit back on the bed, smoothing her hands over the sheets she was on. Then her hands went to the back of her dress where the rest of the buttons were and she slowly pushed the top down, fingers pulling through her braids to have her hair tumble down her shoulders in loose dark waves. "Is 'become familiar with each other' secret code for 'getting naked'?" She teased, running her hands down her bare front - though just to below her breasts, the rest she was too ashamed of for him to see. The evidence of her betrayal. To him. To herself. Scars she'd have to live with forever.

Callista didn't like to see them.

"Rem," She started in a husky voice, "Do you have any questions for me?"

His eyes watched her body, intrigued, and wanting to touch her.  Rembrandt flicked eyes back to her.

"What were your dreams?" He murmured, reaching out to touch her.

Callista caught his hands and placed them against her chest, goosebumps rising on her flesh from the warmth of his hands. Again, the touch wasn't sexual. It was... Simply nice. Dragging one of his hands up, she pressed her cheek to his palm and sighed, though when he asked his questions her eyes snapped to his and she licked her lips. Dreams?

"I've never had dreams before. Be normal?" A gentle shake of her head, remembering what Carn had promised her. "A family." Another frown, a far away look in her eyes before she nuzzled her scarred cheek against his hand, "A home. Those are dreams, right?"

"Those sound like good enough dreams to me," he said with a smile.  He knelt in front of her, reaching in to kiss along her collarbone, enjoying the scent of her skin and looking up at her with a smile.  "I like those dreams.  I've had dreams of living in a big house with lots of money.  But it isn't everything I suppose."

He chuckled and brushed away at the skin underneath her eyes.  "I want to make those dreams come true with you.  Just us.  No one else need be here."

"We can try," Callista whispered  breath heated before she put her hands to his face and pulled him close. "I like your face best. Out of all the faces you wear." Still half dressed she took his hands and pulled him to the bed, shuffling back on it so he'd have to lean over her. "I dont want us to end up like one of your plays. Not again."

"I think it's something we can avoid.  Sometimes even I get tired of tragedies," he chuckled and leaned over her as she'd coaxed him.  "I just want to be yours."

Callista pulled him down with her when she laid down on the bed, cradling his head against her shoulder and carding her fingers through his hair. "All mine?" She teased, " you seem like the type to have all sorts of ladies." Her voice dipped down and she pressed a kiss to his forehead, "you werent even trying and you got me."

"Maybe we can call it a beautiful accident?" Rembrandt offered and nuzzled into her neck.  He breathed in the scent of her hair, letting his mouth linger along her pulse.  He lapped at her skin, feeling his goosebumps rising along his body.  He leaned off to the side, pulling up the tails of his shirt and leaning on his elbow to pry at the buttons of his shirt, slipping out of it.

"You're the only lady I want anyway," he muttered, grinning and kissing her cheek.

A soft laugh and she nuzzled up against him. All of this was too nice. Too sweet. Callista removed the rest of her dress and pulled back the blankets to the bed, shuffling over to it on her knees before she looked over her shoulder to her... lover? A hesitant swallow and she let her eyes drift closed. Callista had never had a problem with being naked before.

She knew why it bothered her now.

"Rem. Is it because i know you behind all the faces?" A careful breath, "that you know me behind mine?"

It was an odd question to pose at a time like this, but he saw no harm in it.  It exposed a rawness in him.  Rembrandt mulled it over, knowing the truth to it as it gradually came to pass.  "Yes, I think so," he muttered, sitting at the edge of the bed and looking at his hands.  "Nobody's ever seen me before.   Me."

A moment of worry flashed across her features and she curled her arms around his torso and pressed her naked body against his back. "I saw you. Even when you were wearing someone elses face," her fingers pushed through his hair and she rested her chin to his shoulder.

"I told you that i looked for you in everyone didnt i?" A lingering kiss was pressed to the side of his neck and she gave a sigh , "i'd recognize you anywhere." The words her craved to hear, the three simple words were still too much for her to say. Too easily broken so Callista placed another kiss to his neck before she curled around him and deposited herself onto his lap. "Does that make your insides floaty?"

Feeling her heart beating against his back made Rembrandt's stomach turn over on itself and he felt the thrill of her touch.  It was so strange to feel this way so...very real.  And though it was unusual it was not unnatural.  It was something that he simply had to become accustomed to.

"Floaty?" he asked with a quirked brow, smirking and feeling gently along her side.  Her body against his, that was familiar to him.  The physicality of her touch, it grounded him. 

"I feel less...ethereal.  Does that make sense?" he asked.  "I feel different when I'm with you.  I can't explain it, but it is different.  I like it.  I'm not used to it as easily as others are, falling into the grace of...bonding like we have.  I find myself...caring for you.  And that's a big deal.  For me.  I've never cared for another before."

"Floaty." Callista conitnued, pushing her fingers through his hair and pulling his face down for a gentle kiss, "like your insides have butterflies." A small chuckle and she pressed herself harder against him, shuffling so their chests were smooshed together.

"I care for you too. Can we really have it? A dream?" Perhaps this was as dream as it was ever going to get.

Rembrandt found himself blushing.
"Yeah, sometimes.  Floaty like something is tingling my belly," he chuckled and kissed against her neck.  He wrapped arms around her and leaned back so that she was laying atop him.

"I don't know about dreams," he added.  "If it is, I don't want to wake up."

A pleased little hum and Callista closed her eyes, pressing her lips to Rembrandt's chin and snuggling as close as she could get to him. Being on top of him, it was relatively closer. "I agree. Let's dream a little longer." Resting her head on his chest she listened to his heartbeat with a content sigh.

The words were there.

She knew though, if she said them they would taste like rotten fruit.

So she swallowed them instead and trailed her fingers along his chest and dragged her nails down to his hips gently. "Do you want to sleep now? We had a long day."

Rembrandt sighed, content in more ways than taking and living lives had given him in a long time.

"I could sleep forever," he breathed.  "What do you want to do?"

He looked down at her, running fingers through her hair.  He pulled the blankets over them both, wrapping them up until the warmth was trapped between them.

A soft laugh and she closed her eyes to the feel of his hand in her hair.

"Sleep," She said softly, finding herself quite tired, hand moving up and down his chest to trace what she could feel, dipping against his belly button before smoothing out her hand again. Pressing a kiss to his chest, she rolled to the side and hooked a leg up onto his hip before snuggling down. "Sleep and go see the beach tomorrow," Her voice was tired but she didn't stop smoothing her hand over his chest. Petting him a bit like one would pet a precious pet.

Seeking comforting, even.

If she was aware what her touch was doing, Rem said nothing.  But her hand left traces of goosebumps in their wake.  His breath hitched and he dragged his own hand down her side, letting her explore, and complementing it with his own curious touches.

His fingers trailed down her spine, rounding the soft curve of her behind and gently caressing it with the fullness of his hand.  "I love your body," he found himself saying.  "I think you're the most beautiful creature to almost kill me.  What a strange turn of events."

He yawned sleepily, but smiled in good humor.  "I guess this is what other men feel when they say they're the luckiest man alive."

It felt like her heart skipped a beat.

His hand on her back, moving down. A shuddering breath and she pressed a kiss to his chest, pressing her palm over his hesrt. To feek it thump against her hand. "Do you get almost killed by many people?" Callista teased, moving to straddle his hips, a leg on either side of his torso. 

"Do you believe you're lucky?" It was an honest question and sitting up as she was the evidence of her betrayal, the stretchmarks on her belly from the child Carn stole. The one she stole.

"No," he said.  "I never believed in luck.  A man has to make his own fortune."  Rembrandt observed her belly, gently tracing a hand along her belly.  "But when you didn't kill me...I guess that alone made me drawn to you."

He coaxed her back down against him.  "I'm just glad I have you.  I'm glad..I'm...yours."  Arms wrapped around her body, holding her securely, perhaps even in a vague fear she might disappear.

Callista gave a dry laugh.

"Why would I kill you?" Her voice was husky and goose flesh made her skin pucker, her hands moved from his torso to her breasts and she gave a little roll of her hips, though it seemed to be just to make herself comfortable. "You changed your face," Her fingers moved down to caress his cheek and when he pulled her closer she snuggled in, nuzzling at his shoulder.

"You weren't who I was to be sent for anymore. You looked frightened, even." A moment to closer her eyes and give a gentle smirk, "though you were easy to seduce. It's not a pity that I didn't finish the job." She caught his cheek and pulled his face towards her to press her lips to his in a lingering kiss, her tongue drawing over his lower lip while she pushed her fingers through his hair.

"I like you being mine," Callista's voice was husky against his lips, "You are mine. Forever."

They shared body heat and Rembrandt could feel himself harden underneath her.  He still had his trousers on, and he regretted leaving them that way, even with her atop them.  She was so distracting he hadn't had a chance to take them off!  Rembrandt made a soft noise beneath that exploratory kiss, his mouth cooled with the wet of her saliva.

"Can I be yours...now?" he murmured, moaning softly as he leaned up to kiss her, taking her lips gently in his.  Hands enveloped the fullness of her ass, gripping it hungrily and all the while his hardness continued to ache beneath her.

He whimpered, biting a little down on her lip until he slipped a hand between them and worked to undo the buttons of his pants.

A curious glance down at him a gentle tilt of her head before realization dawned on her features. Callista smiled, moving so Rem could undo his pants and she reached between them to catch his hands and place them on her thighs.

Gently she moved his clothing away, pushing his pants down while she shimmied down his body. What could have been erotic was covered by blankets and she was little more than a lump under the covers.  Pushing the pants to his knees, her hands moved up his thighs and she grabbed the blankets, pulling them down to expose his.

Her heated breath ghosted over his cock and she gave his hip a kiss. "Do you want to be mine?" Callista laid her head down on his abdomen, "do you remember the night we met?" Her tongue swiped at his length, "do you want to try it over? Without the killing part."

The way she touched him left trails of gooseflesh along his thighs.  When at last his body was free, he sucked in a sharp breath.    Chills coursed through every extremity, leaving Rembrandt taking in deep breaths to carefully control each shudder.  Half-lidded eyes peered curiously down at Callista.  He arched his back to allow his trousers to be tugged down, wiggling a little here and there.

Rembrandt took in a deep sharp breath.  "Yes.  Make me yours.  Gods," he muttered and twitched in motion of her exploratory tongue.  He grinned though.  "Minus the killing part yes."

Without the killing part.

Callista looked up at him, drawing her finger tips down his chest to his thighs. One hand to move long his cock while she tasted the tip and the other to fondle his balls. Pulling away from him with a loud pop she moved her hands back up his chest. A slow blink and a pause before she sort of deflated and looked down at him.

"Rem." Her voice was soft and she sat up, climbing up and stradling his thigh, looking down at him before she idly continued to stroke his cock wtih her fingers - not unlike how someone would pet a snuggly cat that rested against them.

"You know i care about you a great deal, right?" Naked was the most vulnerable you could be with someone. Now seemed like a good time to have a conversation.

He bit his lip furiously when her mouth came into contact with him.  He didn't feel the need to hold back, but no sound came from his throat all the while.  Even though it didn't last long, he was already panting and he looked up at her with half-lidded eyes.

"Yes," he murmured.  Elbows shifted underneath him to prop him up.  "I care for you too...  I know those words aren't the same for you as they are for other people."

Callista smiled softly, eyes drifting closed and she gave a pleased little hum while her hand slid along his cock. Giving it the occasional  squeeze while she pressed heated kisses to his chest and looked up at him through her lashes.

"I want our first night to be... unforgettable." She moved her hand up his chest and straddled his hips, " help me? I cant bring myself to say it - the words are tainted - but i can show it." Callistas voice was soft when she shifted her hips downwards, grinding herself down against him. "Help me show you, Rem," her voice was quiet and she pressed her lips to his.

Her touched had him breathless.  But he kept himself stilled and he opened his eyes, staring back into hers and wanting more than anything to help her.  He leaned up on his elbows, pulling himself up enough as she ground down on him.

"I want to," he panted, meeting her kiss with a gently yet growing hunger.  "Let's make love."  Arms wrapped snugly around her, hips rolling underneath her in graceful pings of pleasure.  Rolling them onto their sides, a hand slipped underneath her thigh to feel that hint of wetness.  Fingers found to, and he slipped two within her warm, hips still rolling to run against her clit.

Making love was still unfamiliar.

The need he felt to show her pleasure was unfamiliar and when he caressed her she let out little gasps. Sucked in breaths. Her fingers clasped around his wrist and she held on until she could bring herself to gently let go, let his fingers explore where she dared not to. "Remi," Callista panted, moving a hand to his head to hold his face close to hers to bite at his lips gently and press her lips to his when she wanted to make noise instead.

"I want you," she breathed against him, curling her knee onto his hip and pressing close to him. Still, she hesitated. Callista only ever did this to kill. Before, she'd been tired. Now, aware of what they were doing she could only pause and hesitate. Swallowing carefully, she squeezed her eyes shut and nuzzled towards Rem. "Teach me?" It was a quiet plea, a needy whine and she held tight.

Teeth sunk into his lip when she wanted to make noise.  Rem ran his tongue alongside her lower lip, giving wet kisses on time with the exploratory motions of his hand.  Her tension alarmed him somewhat but he wouldn't push anything she wouldn't accept.  The ease of her body allowed his fingers to slip deeper inside her, the wetness easing them in.

"Making love is...like when were dancing all that time ago, do you remember?  When two bodies move in time with one another, moving in such a way you want your partner to feel as much pleasure as you do," he panted in explanation.  Rembrandt turned his wrist until more of his hand was within her, keeping his hips in deep hungered rolls.

"I want to make you feel as..good as you make me feel.  You make my blood burn, and my heart race.  It's like its...hammering loudly in my ears."

Callista closed her eyes and sighed, remembering the dance. It was lovely. Her hand smoothed up his side to rest at his bicep and she moved it again to rest at his back while he worked his fingers. Worked his hips against her. His name was a sweet prayer and she squeezed her eyes shut, blunt nails digging into his back.

Heat rose in her belly and she gave a little squeak.

Soon her heart was beating as quickly as his and she moved her hand from his back to caress his cheek, opening her eyes to look at his. A gentle hand moved to catch his wrist and she leaned in for more kisses. Kisses with him she understood. They were sweet and gentle. A silent expression of caring. Trusting. "Dance with me," She whispered against his lips, pressing in for more kisses, "New beautiful memories. Nothing exists except for now," Callista pulled back, eyes wide. Hands gentle, "Please?"

"Always," he whispered and gently removed his hand from her folds.  Turning them over, he settled between her legs, coaxing her legs to relax around his hips.  He guided his cock between them until their bodies were joined.  Hips rolled in hunger, breath heavy and panting and he kissed her slowly, tasting the warmth of her mouth.

"Cal.  My Callista," he panted, moaning as their bodies rocked in union.  Heat tensed and eased in his body, hips working deep and slow, the friction rubbing his hips red.

"Tell me what you want, what you need," he whispered huskily. 

The verbal claim of possession had her gasp. The feel of him against her. Inside her. Callista rolled her hips against his, falling into the new dance he was teaching her. Hips rocked to the rhythm he set and hands caressed soothingly. It felt different though. It would be too easy to break him. Too many ways to end it.

A gentle bite of her lip and she tapped at his shoulder, cheeks flushed, lips bitten red. "I..." she lifted her hands and slowly moved her legs away, shifting from under him before she could turn around pressing her back to his chest. A hand reached down to guide him back home and she gave a needy noise at the stretch. A shift, a wiggle of her hips. "Take me," she zaid in a husky voice, "make me yours, Rem. I want to be yours. Just yours."

He paused long enough, sweat beading down along his brow and dribbling down his nose as he held himself above her.  Face was flushed with passion, heat resonating and throbbing all through his body, he hadn't wanted to stop, but for that brief moment, looking at her face, his heart skipped a beat leaving a heavy pounding inside his ears.

"Anything you want," he murmured, letting her poise herself before him as she pleased.  He slipped out of her, cock heavy and soaked with her heat.  When they met again, he gripped her hips, no guidance necessary as she was already poised before him.  He stroked against her, soon joined at the hip and beginning to rock once again.  He took her hard, thrusting deep and keeping his hands steady on her body, slipping only to the sweat that graced her skin.

Hips rolled hard and deep until she was his, and he thought his heart would explode.

Hands fisted into the bedding and Callista arched her back, rolling her hips into his thrusts. His name was a chant on her lips and the move he moved the tighter she gripped the blankets, white knuckled and out of breath. It was like he was claiming her and Callista reveled in it.

"Rem," she whined, looking at him over her shoulder. A cry and she tensed up, back arched against him. Her hands moved down to his to curl her fingers around his palms.  Teeth sunk down into her lip until a well of blood smeared her chin. It was intense, the little tremours. The trembles. Then she gave a gasping moan and relaxed, eyes closed and sweat on her forehead.

Rembrandt shifted, so that he was more relaxed his knees.  He continued to pound into her until she leaned back against him.  Heat radiated outward and skin was rubbed raw, his breathing going ragged and scratching at his dry throat painfully.  Her cry was echoed by his soon after, and though he was tired enough to collapse then and there, he  stilled himself, sealing the hot seed he'd shot into her.

His arms wrapped around her waist and he craned his neck around her head to better look at her.  His lips took her sensually, licking at the blood that dribbled down her chin.  Smiling and panting, his eyes searched her face a moment.  "Again?" he whispered.

A primal part of her woke up when he licked the blood off her chin and Callista reached back to hold his head to her face so she could bite his lip. A heated nod and she squeezed her eyes shut, mouth open slightly before she chewed on her lower lip.  Unwilling to harm him with her teeth she turned her face away. A wiggle and she slowly moved around, a tangle of legs until she was on her back below him, hands down between them to guide him back between her thighs.

"Rembrandt," She whispered, nails dragging down his sides gentle before she rolled her hips again, eyes closed, legs curling up around his waist. What did she want? Callista licked her lips, realizing she was still bleeding, "Did we make love?" A smirk and she looked up at him, rolling her hips encouragingly. Hands went to her breasts and she let her eyes fall closed, "I missed you."

Hands went up to catch his cheeks and pull him down for a gentle kiss, licking the blood she'd smeared on his lips. "Don't leave me again," She whispered, giving him a wide eyed look.

A soft whimper emerged from him when she bit into his lip.  The pain ignited a heat in the midst of his belly that he felt slowly gravitate toward his groin.  He wanted nothing more than to take her then.  At the acquiescence, he moaned a mumbled, "Yes."

"We make love.  We were in...what do they call it?  Sync.  Together."  He licked the blood from her chin again and he kept her hips positioned firmly between her leg.  His body soon joined hers, slipping in deep and working gently in time with her.

"How were things?  In all that time I was gone?" Rembrandt asked, holding himself above her.

Callistas fingers pushed through his hair and she simply remained there. It was silence, no sound but her heart beat in her ears and their breath. "I missed you, " her words were soft, a little voice and her hands moved from his hair to trace under his eyes.

It'd be so easy to jam her thumbs into his eye sockets.

So easy to snap his neck.

Did she want to do those?

No.

Callista closed her eyes and sighed, moving her hands from his beautiful face to her chest, to traced her fingers over her breasts, over her belly. Her thighs. "I... I'd never just existed before. I don't... I don't know what to do when I don't have a purpose," A wince and she moved her hands back to his shoulders, tracing little patterns on his arm. Callista didn't move much, didn't try to take him deeper, she just... Held him. "Rainier will probably try to find me, he said... He said it was a good vessel. Though he wasn't sure it would work," A quiet pause and her eyes snapped to his, "You... Rembrandt you..." For a few moments she looked panicked, "You know how making babies works, don't you?"

Rembrandt paused at the mention of Rainier, the...thing that came out of her that horrible night.  He stopped his motions in their lovemaking and blinked down at her.  A frown overcame his features but he nodded to her.  "I know how babies are made.  I know where they come from.  I've been careful with other women.  Should we...be careful too?"

Rembrandt pulled out of her slowly, moving to lay beside her, fingers curling into her hair and he stretching out beside her head.  He pushed her hair back and he kissed her forehead, lips lingering to taste the sweat on her features, breath shuddering.  "Callista...I thought of you often.  I wondered how you were...doing.  I wondered if you ever wanted to see me again after I just left.  I don't want more babies if we don't have to.  Do you want to?  I just want to be here - with you."

Callista mourned the missing weight from atop her. Curling on her side and facing Rembrandt. Closing her eyes when he pressed his lips to her flesh. Callista gnawed on her lip, running a hand down his body to cup him boldly. "I wanted you to leave," her hand moved to rest at his hip and she snuggled in.

"It... it wasnt..." the words stung as she tried to talk " once... it wasnt our child. It... before. Before it was but... after... it wasnt." Callista looked up and her face crumpled slightly, "im sorry. We... we made a baby. I tricked you so Carn could..." steal it.

Callista moved away slightly, curling away from Rembrandt. "I like making love with you," she finally whispered, giving him a short glance over her shoulder.

Rembrandt's body was still hard, and when he moved to press his back against her, she might feel it against her spine.  His arm curled around her shoulder, and he kissed at her neck, leaving a trail of wet along her shoulder.  His mouth lingered by her thoat, suckling against the flesh as a mythical vanpire's kiss might.  He growled a little, teeth nibbling into her ear.

"Callista we can still make love.  We just have to be careful.  I think I'll need to find some sheathes.  Even if we have more babies, they'll be ours, yes."  He kissed her neck again, licking the love bite he'd given her.  "But until then, we can make love all we want.  If you...still want to."

A gentle shake of her head, "There's a tea. I drank it every day at the flower shop - Master hoped I'd breed. Make more slaves for him -." A little frown, " Except...." A little sigh and she turned around, gently pushing Rembrandt onto his back before straddling his hips, his member caught between them. Gently she rolled her hips over him and tipped her head back.

"I want to make love to you everyday," she smiled down at him, her hair slowly turning into big chunks of curl. Reaching between them, she angled his cock and slowly she sunk down on it, eyes closed before she leaned forward to press her lips to his. "Forever," she scraped her nails along his sides while she gently rocked above him, "Do you forgive me?" She finally asked, having seated herself - though she remained unmoving.

She knew how to tease him - likely drawn from the years of being owned and used by her master.  Rembrandt didn't envy such an existence, however, at least now her skills could be put to proper use by her own desire to do so.

He hitched his breath at the feel of her body heat.  Rembrandt closed his eyes tightly and focused on the sensations, almost not hearing her until her nails ran down his sides.

"Forever is a long time.  Sounds good enough for me," he muttered and reached for her, taking her breasts in hand and squeezing them lightly, thumbs brushing over their tips.  "There is nothing to forgive, Cal.  You didn't do anything wrong."  He rolled his hips slowly under her, working deeply and wholly.

"Do you forgive me?  That's the better question.  I'm the one that stopped."

Callista nuzzled her forehead to his.

Intent on pleasure. Intent on forgetting. "Anything. I'd forgive you anything," She breathed against his ear, eyes closed. "One day. Just one day of us doing nothing but... Making love," she'd found she quite liked that. It was gentler sounding. sweet. Callista leaned back to look at her strange face-stealing lover and she snuggled down on top of him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Can we stay like this until tomorrow? Just talk?" She teased.

Admittedly he felt a warmth spread through his body not quite like anything he'd felt before.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," he murmured quietly.  There wasn't anything preventing him from enjoying his moment, and idyllic as it was, a part of him thought this was what he'd been missing his whole life.  Some sort of real complacency, a thought he'd feared all his existence.  Was this what real love felt like?"

"Callista, I just want you to know that...I have never been quite the same since I met you."

There was a strange lurch in her chest and she pressed her lips together before giving a rare brilliant smile. A tilt of her head and Callista let out a soft sigh, tucking her head against his chest and snuggling down against him.

"What," she purred, "you'd never had an assassin after you before?"

Rembrandt actually laughed so hard he snorted.  His hand reached up to cover his face and he tried to quiet himself.  Once he managed it, he looked down at her.

"Not to my knowledge," he admitted.  He chuckled and gently poked at her side.  "I mean, I've never been close with anyone.  I've never had the opportunity....  My father always told me I was worthless.  If I wanted to be of any worth, I'd have to make it for myself because I was nothing.  It's strange being...empty inside."

Callista didnt have much heart left. Broken and abused she'd kept whatever feelings she could muster under lock and key. Still though, she loved him and her heart broken for the child he'd been. Her hands moved to his face to urge him down for a gentle kiss.

"I'll be close with you," she whispered, which should have been a given, naked with him tucked snugly between her legs of whish she gave an encouraging wiggle, "Will you be mine?" She whispered, looking far more vulnerable than she ever had before.

"Please?"

Rembrandt smiled and leaned into catch her lips in a soft kiss.  He hummed a soft moan, one he found came more of need than of pleasure.  He just wanted to close to her, and could feel his stomach turning in a sensation unfamiliar to him.  All of this was so new, happening so fast.  But in a way it wasn't.  The years after he left Callista were forgettable.

He didn't want to be forgotten.

"I'll be yours," he whimpered, breath shuddering when he kissed her deeper, arms slipping around her waist as if to somehow solidify her body against him.  He moaned again, slowly thrusting up inside her, not quite ready to make love yet, but experimenting nevertheless.

Being so close made this feel... Nicer. It made the fire in her belly burn and the heat of his touch tingle everywhere else. It was unfamiliar and Callista wanted more of it. Wanted more of the sensation of being wanted.

Maybe even needed.

Gently she pressed kisses to his face, his eye lids, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. "I regretted the deal eith carn the second you turned away," she breathed, a curious look, head tilted down, it would seem to be an inappropriate time for such a convrsation but for a woman who usually killed during sex, odd conversations were a step up.

"Did you leave because I gave our babies body away?" She asked softly, head down, "I didnt know what else to do."

Rembrandt found himself melting into that attention, finding he was craving it now more than ever. He felt the craving for touch, the need to share warmth between himself and another, and he kept his eyes closed to just let himself be smothered in her body heat.  He breathed in deep, his mind in a haze and let his fingers grope down her back, trying to commit the curvature of her spine to memory.

"No...I left because...You didn't need me after that..." he said, feeling his heart speed up.  Brain was weak with dizziness as he turned his head in to kiss her.  "I didn't know that I needed you more."  Rembrandt wiggled his legs out from underneath her to wrap around her form as well, anything to bring her body closer to him.

"What more did you need me for?  I...just needed time.  I need you still.  I didn't understand."

"I'm sorry," Callista whispered, tucking her face against his chest, nuzzling against the flesh and ignoring that weird burning feeling in her eyes. "It was the only way out I had," She moved her hand down her body, pressing it to her belly. There had been a child there. They had a child somewhere. Sort of. Callista sighed and curled her arm around his chest and pressed a kiss to Rembrandt's shoulder, "You danced with me," She whispered, "And gave me a flower."

Her hand moved to his face, trailing a finger over his chest, pushing through his hair, "Will you stay with me?" She whispered, looking a little uncertain, "At least for a little while?" then she froze, looked worried, "Do you think there are other things like Carn out there?"

"I have to be honest here.  I thought I was the only diabolical menace that plagued on high society," he said with a chuckle. "You kind've pulled that one out of left field. But I hope there aren't.  And if there are...than let's just hope they leave us alone."

Rembrandt kept his hands poised along her head.  "Callista, if it means anything, I don't hold anything against you after...that happened."

Callista turned her head to nuzzle against his hand, eyes closed. What was she supposed to do? "You are nothing compared to Carn," her voice was soft and she opened her eyes again, taking a deep breath. Her hand reached to press the back of her hand to Rembrandt's face, gazing into his eyes. Trying to remember his face.

Or what she thought was his face.

This could have just been his favourite, "But I'm glad using him let me find you," Her voice was soft and she looked away, "Is that bad? Does that make me selfish?" Callista rolled away after a moment, sitting up from the bed and stepping down from it. Naked in the middle of the room, her hair pooling down her back like black silk. "I want to be selfish," Her voice was quiet, and she looked over her shoulder, "Can I keep you?"

Even after meeting again after the incident, Rembrandt couldn't quite say he really knew what lingered beneath Callista's own face. It was her own, she never had to wrestle with the thought that the life was she was living once belonged to someone else. He was an actor and a grand one at that, and he thought for a moment if he could really give up that rush, that high that came when he wore a face other than his own.

Rembrandt's eyes followed her across the room and he turned over to lay on his front, laying with arms half off the bed and head tilted, looking at her sadly.  "Would you keep a bird locked in a cage?  One that sang every night to be free?" he asked gently.  "Even if it was the most beautiful bird you'd ever seen?"

Callista frowned deeply at the look on his face.

Why did he look so sad.

She couldn't help but mirror it with her own. She felt naked now and she looked down at herself, scars and memories. This was a bad idea. She shouldn't have left. "Does the bird hate me?" She whispered, making no more to cover herself, instead she slowly walked back, standing at the bed and looking down at Rembrandt. "I didn't force you to be here," She whispered, kneeling now so they were face to face, she rose a hand to trace the scar on her cheek and she ducked her head down her hair a dark waterfall over her shoulders.

"Why did you come back if you didn't want to keep me?" She asked, tears in her eyes, looking, perhaps, a little betrayed. She'd left her life - what mimicry of a life it was - to be here. With him.

"Shh, shhh, shhh," Rembrandt said as he propped himself up on his elbows. He crossed wrists and tilted his head at her.  "Don't leap to conclusions, my dear.  No, no.  I don't regret coming back. I am just as confused in this as you are. Why would I come back if I didn't care about you?  You're...special.  You're the only person that saw through my disguise and saw what I looked like underneath and weren't revolted."

He pushed her hands away from her scars and instead shuffled forward on his elbow and kissed her scars. He left his breath splay lightly across her skin. "I care for you, Callista.  But I don't want to chain you, for all your life you've been chained.  You are my beautiful bird, and I'm yours."

Callista ducked her head down, tears still in her eyes while he spoke and she took in a shaky breath. Feeling was still new. Besides the fear of hunger or the acceptance that maybe, maybe this mark will go south. Maybe this time they'll fight back and she'll be the one to die... This time though, Callista licked a tear from her lips and looked away briefly, ashamed on some level to break down so quickly.

For all her strength, being human was a weakness and she found she didn't care for it. "Even so," She whispered, lifting a hand to rest on his arm, "I don't know how to fly." Licking her lips again she brought her hand to her face to wipe at her tears, "Maybe... This was a bad idea. Maybe you should be a beautiful flying bird without me and I'll... Watch. From my cage. Where I know how to exist."

"Me neither. I was kicked from the nest a little too early," Rembrandt muttered.  He smiled at her and tried to wipe away the tears. He didn't think there'd be so many of them. "And how did you think the world would be once you were free of your master like Carn promised? What did he say you would have?  Tell me, please.  We'll find a way to fly together."

Callista smiled back and cupped his face, drawing her thumbs over his cheekbones and taking a deep breath to calm herself. It was alarming at how quickly she calmed, breath evening out, her eyes still watering but... Not crying. She took his hand and nuzzled into it, pressing it to her cheek and closing her eyes. "He... Just said I'd be free. I thought that's what I wanted but... I don't ..." Callista sighed and shook her head, "I don't know how to be... Free. I murdered people so someone else could make money, Rembrandt." She whispered like he didn't know that. "I don't know how to... Do anything else."

"Why don't we...try acting?" he suggested. "It's what I know best.  Playing a part. When we first met, you certainly fooled me into thinking you were just a courtesan.  It's like that, but...you don't have to sleep with strangers.  You can do whatever you want, be whoever you want."

Rembrandt adjusted himself so that he could pull her closer to him, resting knees around her thighs.  "Do you think that's something you can try?"

A brief moment before her eyes opened and she looked up at Rembrandt. Her face stealer. There was a soft sigh and Callista closed her eyes again. A little shiver running through her and she moved her hands to press them to his chest.

"I want to be normal," She whispered, a hurt betrayed look in her eyes, "But I have scars on my face," Callista moved a hand from Rembrandts chest, racing it over the scar at her cheek, moving it to her neck to touch it. A sigh and she looked away, her face falling into a disappointed pout. "I want a flower shop, I want... I want to make you dinner when you come... Come home," Callista tried to wriggle away form him to curl up on the edge of the bed and curled up, knees to her chest with her head resting on her bent arm.

"I'm nothing now." Her voice was soft and she tried to make herself into a little a ball as possible, a quick glance over her shoulder, "You didn't even finish." A huff and she turned her head back, eyes closed.

Rem just observed her quietly as she pushed away from him. He was there, always ready to give himself to her, and she shoved him away as if she was somehow unworthy of the love he wanted to give her.  He frowned deeply, letting the corners of his mouth droop in disappointment.

"Why do you give up so easily?" Rembrandt whispered softly as he crawled over to her and wrapped his body around hers. His groin still hurt, aching with want when it pressed into her back. But he tucked it away to keep it from being annoying as he swooped his legs in underneath hers and scooped her in against him.

"We can still make love."  His kisses met at her shoulder, where he nibbled down against the skin there, lapping at the flesh when it was made red raw, and he tucked his face into her neck. "You're my beautiful bird. I would never hurt you on purpose. I would never break your wings. I simply want you to be however it is you want to be."

There had been a few moments that her flesh grew cold without him near. Callista hadn't even realized how much she enjoyed being close to him until he'd pressed back against her. A shiver ran over her and she shifted, using her legs to draw one of his thighs between hers.

"It's easier to give up," she admitted in a hushed voice, snuggling back into Rembrant   "No one will tell me what to do, I have to make choices. I'll need to..." Callista went quiet and turned so she was laying on her back, legs still tangled  with his.

A pale hand moved to rest against his cheek, her thumb moving over her bottom lip. "Making love to you is my favourite pass time," she admitted in a husky voice, "it tells you all the things I can't."  Callista sighed again and moved to rest her hands on her naked belly. The scars there.

"I... Need to learrn how to... Be myself," she said softly, leaning to kiss him, "Maybe we'll still..." she paused, a pained look in her eyes.  "Maybe we'll still get along then... Now though," a hand took one of his loose ones and placed it over her breath. "You havw a choice to make," her words wre soft and she slowly turned into Rem with each passing moment.

Rembrandt settled in beside her, adjusting his body until she was lying beneath him. Finally they could move onto something they could both understand. He couldn't know the exact precepts of her pain, of everything she went through. He only knew he wanted to move forward, with her, live a life he didn't think would ever be possible for him to live.

Rembrandt was quiet and held himslef over her, gently coaxing her thigh to hike up on his hips and he slowly sank back into the heat he remembered, relished and they made love into the quietness of the morning.

He woke up while it was still dark. There was no indication of the time and nothing mroe than gray permeated the window. Rembrandt turned to her form beside his and scooted in closer to her. "Callista," he breathed, kissing along her shoulder. "My dearest...  Are you hungry? Shall I bring you something to eat?"

The strange desire to serve her was slowly festering, growing in him. But to him she was more than a queen or a goddess, his beautiful bird. And he wanted to mend her broken wings.

A confused sound left her.

Callista didn't feel her dreams. Infact, she felt wonderful. Her whole body sang with the pleasures from the night before and she frowned and leaned into the kisses on her shoulder. What was that?

Whatever dream it was, it quickly morphed. Beasts and monsters and....

Violet eyes snapped open and almost immediately she curled away from Rembrandt, half sobbing. Her hands were over her face, shoulders trembling. Sounds choking out of her through her tears. It didnt take long  before she crawled out of the bed, moved to the nearest wall and pressed herself against it, hands out, palms flat.

"I'm sorry," she panted through her tears, moving quickly to gather her hair and pull it over her shoulder. "I didn't mean to," Callista let out a pitiful little hiccup, "it was just a really nice dream. I know I need to be punished." And she relaxed her back, and waited for her whipping.

Rembrandt pushed himself up off the bed when he saw her scramble to her corner.  He carefully stepped toward her, much like a ghost, and watched her a moment. He wasn't sure she would let him touch her, but he took a chance and cast a hand out, gently grazing it against her forearm.

"Callista," he murmured, standing in front of her. "Wrap your arms around me."  His tone was gently and he caressed hands at her waist. "Cal, my dear. Nothing will punish you. You are safe. Please, just put your arms around me.'

Callista froze. That was Rem's voice.

It hadn't been a dream. It had been real. Tears filled her eyes and she turned around, feeling his hand move from her arm to her waist. Three words she thought would never be said to her. You are safe. A breath left her and she turned around, curling her arms around Rembrandt, feeling his chest against hers. Eyes closed she pressed a kiss to his chest and turned her head to press her ear there, to listen to his heartbeat.

"Rembrandt," She whispered, breathing deeply, "I thought you were a dream. I thought it was all ... Back to the beginning that you were just a good dream."

The moment her arms fell around him, he felt at ease. He didn't know for sure why he felt that way, as there was no certainty to her feelings. At some points she was perfectly happy basking in the moment, and there were others where she seemed to be beside herself with sorrow or terror.

Rembrandt let his body melt against hers, pulling her in against him, squashing her breasts against his chest and he pressed his face in against her cheek.

"No, no, Cal. It's real, and I'm real. And we made love last night. It was wonderful and sweet and you made me finish. I'd be happy to do it again and again, or as much as you want. Because I want you here in my arms, safe from all harm," he chuckled. "I didn't mean for that to rhyme."

Callista smiled, nuzzling in against Rembrandt's chest before she gave a calming sigh and closed her eyes. It was already dark in the room, but at least with her eyes closed she could pretend that was why. Taking his hands, she pulled away from the hug and tugged him back to the bed, walking backwards until she bumped into it, pushing the blankets down and crawling into it.

"Let's sleep some more?" She whispered, feeling a little small, "At least until dawn?" The sky had brightened the tiniest bit but dawn was still a long ways away. Callista tugged Rembrandt into the bed with her, pushing and wriggling against his limbs to spoon him around her back, taking his hands and holding them against her. "There, now I'm in your arms and safe from all harm," She nuzzled against his arm, "Even bad dreams." And she fell asleep easily, warm against her lover.

Callista couldn't remember a time she'd felt safe in someone's arms. While she didn't know if she could ever utter what she felt, the very fact she was so at ease and spoke so freely of her feelings should have told Rembrandt exactly what it was she felt. Callista sighed, turning around and pressing her chest to Rems with a soft content sigh, though again, she said nothing.

Back in bed once again, Rembrandt settled in against her form, even as she wriggled to find just the right comfortable spot. Admittedly he'd slept in better beds, but for now this was just right for him. He didn't move much, just laid there and waited for her to settle right in. "There, there, now," came murmured words. Rembrandt closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come back.

Instead he was troubled at what more she would surprise him with. He was not upset with her, merely unusued to it. And that it unnerved him - just slightly - that the dregs of her old life still remained. Perfectly understandable, considering what she lived through. Rembrandt closed his eyes tightly and let his mind think back to the flower he gave her.

No one else had given her flowers, she said. No one bothered to notice her except when they needed her. And she believed everything people said because they made empty promises only to turn their back on her when it became convenient to do so. Anger began to boil over, and it made him sick. Rembrandt carefully crawled away from her in the dark morning gloom after she fell asleep and he paced back and forth again and again, sitting by the window and watching the sun come up.

Was he here with her because he pitied her? Was she here with him because he was the only one who noticed her? The words she couldn't say were miniscule in comparison, and when he cut his eyes to her form in the bed, he found himself frowning.  What difference did it make in the end. He had her, she was his. And no one else's.

And that made him smile. Not because he owned her. Rather due to the fact that despite all the empty promises, somehow, she still chose him. She wanted him although he was no one, that he was a predator waiting for an empty vessel to steal. She chose him over anyone else that might have noticed her. And if there was any ownership, it was mutual.

Rembrandt returned to her side, crawling over her and waking her up with needy kisses to her cheek and neck just as the sunlight came up. He finally settled in beside her, stretching out and yawning. "Callista, what do you think we ought to do today?" he murmured, tucking a pillow underneath his head. "I think...we should go out and buy you clothes. Something you can make beautiful. Or, if you think we should do something else, I'm open to suggestions."

Callista groaned, shifting in the bed and pulling the blanket up higher before she cracked an eye open and looked up to see... Her Rem. A smile and she pulled the sheet down, revealing her breasts, peaked with the sudden chill and she reached up to caress his cheek before she kicked all the blankets off and shifted to face him.

"A dress?" She whispered. When was the last time she'd gotten a dress? Though Callista frowned slightly, "I didn't bring anything for new clothes," A tilt of her head and she shrugged, leaning into Rem and throwing a leg over his waist, "We can just continue where we left off before we fell asleep," She purred against his mouth.

As much as she couldn't bring herself to say the word, Callista enjoyed what they did together very much and she gave him a peck on the lips before she climbed over him and stood up off of the bed. "Wouldn't I look lovely though?" She played with an imaginary dress, twirling before finally giving him a curtsy, "I ... Suppose... We need to blend in..." She said, tilting her head, "Could I get a hat, too?"

He didn't know if giving her things would make her feel better, more at ease with him, that she could find the comfort to settle into her new life. They were together now, it would make sense for them to act like it. And he didn't know about her, but finding himself in nice new attire always made him feel much better.

"I'll pay for it. One way or another." Although actors didn't seem to make much, Rembrandt was if anything a resourceful man.

Rembrandt grinned, admiring the slopes of her body, turning to meet hers and he scooted in closer, closing his eyes to the feeling of her soft breath. Too bad it didn't last long. He watched her crawl over him and his hand reached across to tap on the roundness of her ass, grinning at the movement.

"You can get anything you want," Rembrandt murmured as he stepped up from the bed, dragging the sheet behind him.  He draped it over her shoulders as if it were a cloak, tied it around her waist to form a skirt and tucked one end over her shoulder and down by her front to brace it.  "See? Don't you look absolutely radiant already?"

He took a pillow and gently balanced it on her head. "Already you're the talk of the town."

Did she?

Callista looked down at herself, clad in the sheet. Radiant would, perhaps, not be a word she would use. If anything she looked like a bedrat and she lifted her hands to hold the pillow to her head before looking Rembrandt up and down, taking a step so that the blanket parted for her leg. Licking her lip she turned her head and tossed the pillow up and over their heads before she tugged the sheet away.

"Anything?" She said softly, trailing a hand up his chest, voice soft, eyes curious. Picking up the sheet, she dropped it to the bed before she pressed a kiss to Rembrandts chest before she gave it a gentle push and she smiled up at him. Callista's grin was lopsided as always, the side with the slice up the cheek just not able to pull that way, but she looked away for a moment before she took his hands and put them on her hips.

"Why kind of dress?" She asked turning around so he back was to him, "Long and flowy?" Her voice was soft, "Hang off the shoulder? Perhaps..." She turned and put her hands on her hips, "white. with ruffles. Make men look at it..." she tilted her head at him, standing there naked in the middle of the room, "Would you be jealous?"

Her coy swishing the dress was mesmerizing. Rembrandt grinned at her, curious wanting to tear it off her and pin her to the wall. She was his and to know that gave him a swelling pride. No one else would have her, no one else would feel the way he did about her...  And he didn't at all feel as if there was some need to prove it.

The way she touched him was proof enough that he also belonged to her.

"Any kind," he breathed. "Antyhing that would compliment your figure would look gorgeous." The draping of the sheet around her....  Until--

"Jealous...." That was an odd word and he felt that when she mentioned other men....something panged in his belly. "If men look at you, then that would only make me prouder to have you on my arm. I suppose I'd be jealous if you chose someone else...  Would you? Choose someone else?"