Sing A Song to the Skies (m)

[Draconian]

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."

[Lion]

"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."

[Draconian]

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."

[Lion]

"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?"

[Draconian]

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.

[Lion]

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."

[Draconian]

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.

[Lion]

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.

[Draconian]

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.

[Lion]

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.'

[Draconian]

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."

[Lion]

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."

[Draconian]

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.

[Lion]

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."

[Draconian]

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?"

[Lion]

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."

[Draconian]

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?"

[Lion]

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?"