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Little shards of silence

Started by Anadwen, April 07, 2014, 07:59:21 AM

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Anadwen

SotE LONG prose with Arthfael and Nill. And by long, I mean really long.

Thanatos, the port of Jin'ta, one of its notorious backstreets.

A small sign creaks a little as the wind pokes it forth, twisting the chains on which it hangs from a thin metal pole. The same breeze whirls a cloud of dust in the narrow alleyway, and it is, at the same time, the sole sound that can be heard.

Or, it was, before a dull thudding of wood joined it. A figure appeared in the doorway, hidden beneath a thick veil of smoke, streaming from a long, strangely carved pipe between the shopkeeper's thin fingers. He raised the pipe to his mouth, and created another cloud of dim grey that lifted from his lips, and lingered around his head. With nonchalacy that was almost surprising, he leaned onto the doorway with his shoulder, and casually crossed his legs. The pair of heavy wooden sandals, which raised him a good few inches higher, clicked again.

He had a halo of unruly black hair, lining his pale face, a pair of bright, uneven eyes in the shadows that his messy locks cast at his forehead, and a thin scar along the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones. One blue and one green lively spark glinted in the light of the morning sun as he peered through the smoke he himself was making, and he looked up. The sign, reading 'Iaranase shop', was still rocking from side to side, even after he poked it with a black cane his other hand held in an attempt to stop it from emitting the repetitive, annoying sound that echoed in the small courtyard.

From now on, this was his shop. A place where he could (relatively) safely spend the rest of his long, long life. And yet, he was somehow still not entirely ready to settle down, even though he made all preparations to do so, as a thin line of bandage across his head, which hid the tips of his ears, could say. He changed everything... But was he ready to stop his crazy life once and for all, throw away everything that would mark him as the legendary Hawk, the Arthfael Dal'Ar'Uliath, horror of the sea? The calm expression on his face cracked like a broken mask, and let the worried look beneath come out.

Then, another person peered out of the shop. A pair of long, nicely shaped legs was the first thing of her that could be seen, appearing out of the shadow of the shop, followed by her arms, body, and after all the rest, head. Or, to be more accurate, a heart-shaped face, waves of long, dark blue hair, and shining, deep eyes of the same color. Unlike the shopkeeper, her skin was tanned bronze, like if she was covered by a layer of gold, and she appeared far more elegant when she slowly bent her head to the side, and stretched her arms, watching her companion with wary eyes. "You're up pretty early." she mused. The sound of her deep voice was silky and soft, flirty in a way, though it was apparent that those two were old acquaintances.
"I went to sleep early." he shrugged. There was nothing more and nothing less in that simple statement. It was exactly what it appeared to be, with no hidden meanings that one could read between the lines. She knew that.
Her laugh sounded sharply, as if it was forced, but her face spoke otherwise. "It's not even time for breakfast, and you're already smoking." This time, her voice scolded him jokingly.
His hand reached forth, handing her the pipe. "I never said I won't share." The corners of his mouth twisted into a smile. She took the pipe, and pulled in, releasing a cloud of smoke a moment after, when she returned Arthfael his pipe.

A gust of wind picked up the edge of her simple dress, which her hand immediately pushed back down, sliding down in the doorway. She was shoeless. Arthfael's gaze grew soft as he glanced upon her figure, twisted underneath him, and memories begun appearing in his mind.
He pushed them back. They were the past, and the past was of no importance anymore. What else than pain it would bring, anyway?

"Arthfael." she spoke up again.
"Jirai. Now it's Jirai." he corrected her in a calm voice, similar to that in which a mother reminds her child of manners. She, however, shook her head. A wave of blue whirled around her face.
"For me you'll always be Arthfael." she whispered.
His face turned bitter at her words, and what was before a smile became a pained, sad grimace. "I'm not the Hawk anymore. You know I'll never be again."
"You've never stopped being the Hawk that I met three hundred years ago." The words slipped off her soft lips like threads of silk, they were soothing, but in a way biting, provocative.
He remained silent.

"It's over, it's been over for a long time. Don't open old wounds again. You... It won't help, Nill." All of a sudden, the last remains of his smile disappeared. All that was left standing in the doorway was a dark shadow of a man. Nill raised a sad glance up at him, standing up with her usual casual elegance, and her hands entwined around his.
"I'm sorry." she whispered into his ear.
"That's alright."
"You'll always be Arthfael to me." she repeated. Her lips puckered up, and she bent her head closer towards him. She was fresh and beautiful like a spring rose, her usual fierceness subdued, much like the calm that comes after a storm, raging above the waves of the ocean. After the thunder and lightning passes, it becomes blue and clear.
He blew a swift kiss onto her cheek, and immediately swung back to his previous position, blushing crimson. Nill noticed it, and stroke his cheek softly, chuckling. Much like when they were younger.
But they weren't young anymore. Things have changed. There was no more Arthfael, no pirate with the eyes of a hawk and a tongue as sharp as the tip of his sword. He had a new life, now he was Jirai Iaranase, a shopkeeper selling various items of questionable reputation. And that was how it had to stay, if he wanted to keep his life. It was for the greater good.

Nill's voice broke the chain of his thoughts again. "You call this a kiss? It was just like a spark of foam from a wave... Kiss me again, and do it like a man." she provoked him. He raised a brow, and one side of his mouth rose to a faint smile. The mischievous embers in his bright eyes were alight once more. "Like a man? I am no man. I don't have the pointed ears - anymore -" his hand pointed at his head, "but don't forget what I am. I kiss like an elf." Now there was a full smirk on his face, when he took her face to his hands, and gracefully leaned in, pressing his lips onto hers. It was a long, hot, and passionate kiss. She arched her back, bending her head aside, and he followed, just to feel her warmth. Like a wild cat, she reached after him, and pulled him towards her body, fluttering her long lashes.

All of a sudden, he broke out of her embrace, drawing a long, heavy breath in - almost a sigh. She eyed him with an untold question in her eyes, which were now like deep pools of blue, no white, no pupils. They were mirrors, as deep as the ocean.
"It... It was a bad idea... I don't want to give you false hopes... Forgive me, Nill... I got... I got carried away. I'm sorry..." Arthfael mumbled under his breath, studying his hands in abashment. The pipe was on the ground... It must have fallen out of his hand during the kiss.

One of her hands appeared on his shoulder. "Don't be sorry. Your lips taste as good as when I kissed you for the first time. I regret nothing." she assured him with a faint smile.
"I'll never make out with a demon again." he attempted to joke, just to ease the heavy air of hesitation and awkwardness around them, but it was a failed attempt. After a moment of silence, he bent over to pick up the pipe, biting into his lip. One moment, and both of them, though they were fabled for their sharp tongues, were struck speechless.

"It was the last one. I promise." he assured her later, shifting closer towards the inside of the shop. The morning was growing hotter and hotter, even the air around begun to shimmer in the heat. Inside, there were cold, damp shadows - a much better place in the middle of summer.
"I wish it wasn't the last one."
"It has to be the last one. I can't stay with you, Nill." Even though he tried to hide it, a thorn of bitter pain appeared in his voice. But this small spike was only the pinnacle of the mountain of sorrow and regret he hid inside him.
"If you can't stay... We can run away."
He shook his head. "They'd find me. Why do you think I did all this? Do you know how high the price even was? To get rid of everything, even my own self? I cut my heart out to leave everything behind... I can't..." He clenched his teeth and bent his head back a little, just enough to stop the tears, gathering in his eyes, from flowing out. Nill looked down with sadness in her pretty face. For a moment, her hand arose, reaching after his, but before they'd meet, it dropped back down to her side.

Yes, it was over. It was over for a long, long time. The last burning embers of what used to be a great fire of love were hidden under a cover of ash so thick they'd never burn through again. And digging them out would be useless - they were hidden for a good reason. Arthfael has always been special for her, the only man she ever really loved. But now, she couldn't see him anymore. There was no legend before her, just a shopkeeper.
She didn't want that.

Evening. Evenings are a special time in summer - they are neither so hot that the mere air would cloud one's mind, nor are they so cold that you shiver and your teeth clenches like an iron clasp. This was one of those evenings, when endless stripes of rose clouds are stretched across the darkening sky like a veil upon veil of the softest silk, when the breeze is cool and soothing in the air, still full of the mid-day's warmth. The noise of the city was kept away from the small door of the Iaranase shop, concentrating at the docks, the taverns and main streets of Jin'ta. There was no-one around at this time, not in a dirty backstreet.

Nill stretched herself across the table, casually playing with her hair. She was laying straight across Arthfael's desk, among small viols, scrolls, and whatever other mess he had there like a grotesque statue - an incredibly life-like and beautiful one, though. One of her thighs was half exposed due to the gap in the skirt of her white dress. The shopkeeper was, as a sharp contrast to her, twisted on his large leather chair behind the desk. Her fingers wandered around his left hand, while the right one supported his chin. It was apparent that both of them were bored, though there was the heavy presence of expectations in the air. She picked his hand up softly, and her fingers sled up higher, towards his forearm, following the trace of the runes, appearing like thin veins of silk on his light skin. Then, her nails reached the line on the inner side of his elbow. Hardly visible, but he still flinched when she touched it. She noticed that, and for a moment, appeared guilty.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to jab you."
"Don't worry. I hardly felt it, anyway." he assured, waving his other hand carelessly. She frowned with concern. "That's not good."
"It's fine. I can still use it." Arthfael assured her. His arm sled back into the loose sleeve of his robe, and he yawned, stretching on the chair.

She rolled over on the desk, and gracefully sled off, tying her wild hair up in the meantime. It was time to go... Even though she didn't want to leave. No, not really.

For a moment, she disappeared in the back of the shop, but when she returned, in her hands was a bottle of sweet spiced wine. She was just in the process of opening it when he turned towards her, and his mouth twisted into a slight grin.
"I brought us a little treat," she chuckled.
"From my cellar!"
"What does it matter? It was bought for illegal money, anyway." she teased him with a small shrug, and sat onto the edge of the table, handing him the bottle. He took it, laughing, and took a larger drink than what would be suitable.
"You down wine like a fountain." she noted. This time, it was him who shrugged, and he kept drinking. When the bottle thudded on the table, it was a large bit emptier than before.

He raised one hand to his eyes and rubbed them. "I guess I'll go to sleep early. I didn't spend that much of yesterday's night asleep." he suggested after a while. She gave him a nod. It would only make it so much easier for her to disappear.

They finished the bottle, and Nill helped the already slightly tipsy Arthfael into his bed. She only pretended to drink all along, just like she pretended to lay beside him on the low, but wide mattress. It didn't take him long to fall asleep... And that was when she slowly slipped out of his embrace, and stepped towards the window between a wardrobe, and a stack of various blades on the wall. But with one foor on the windowsill, she hesitated. She didn't want to leave like a thief in the night, not when it concerned him.

She found a scrap of paper, and quickly scribbled a note. Arthfael, I'm sorry to leave you so suddenly, but I have matters that need resolving. I'll bring back stocks about two months later. Till then, be careful about yourself. Nill. It was informal and short, but it was the most she could make without worrying about waking him up. Her hand slipped it into his palm, and she climbed out of the window like a wild cat, noiselessly pushing herself through the narrow hole, and pulling herself up, onto a balcony above the window of the Iaranase shop's premises.

A strand of her hair, waving in the wind, was pinned into the bun most of her wild blue locks were tied into, right after she noticed it. She moved through the night like a shadow, running on the roofs with the grace of a wild cat, and no louder than a ghost would be.

One last glance towards the window in a small courtyard. Oh gods, how much it broke her heart to leave him like this in here.

In the silence of his room, there was only the sound of Arthfael's breath. A deep, deep silence. A silence of a man, waiting for death like a cut flower. 

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