Einin spent the rest of the ride home, and the rest of the night, period, being fussed over. At that point she was too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to be bothered by it--not that she would have been bothered by it, anyway, after everything that had happened that day. Sometimes she felt she was a little too hard on her parents, too critical, but even if she didn't agree with everything or like everything, they were her parents, she loved them, and she knew they loved her.
She could have died that day, and they felt all that more protective of her after they had come so close to losing their only child--and she felt a little guilty for worrying them like that. Ironic, she supposed, since she did dangerous things on her nighttime adventures but...at least they didn't get to see that.
Halfway home, she fell asleep with her head on her mother's shoulder, and only awoke when they were home.
She had to be helped into the manor, for her feet were injured, but once inside she was ushered off for a much needed bath. Her handmaid attended her to assist her, and she could have fallen asleep in the warm, soapy tub as her handmaid washed her hair for her...if her cuts didn't sting so much. Finally, when she was squeaky clean, she was helped out of the tub and wrapped in a towel as her handmaid set to wrapping her feet in clean strips of cloth. Then it was off to her bedroom to slip on a fresh night gown, pin her wet hair up and out of the way, and head out of her room to wish her parents good night and see how they were holding up.
Treading on bare feet for the kitchens (for her father had mentioned needing a bit of ale, and her mother took tea before bed), she found the room lit and warm. Tea didn't sound half bad, come to think of it. Maybe she would stay up a little longer and--
WHAT IN ALL THE HELLS?!
She turned a corner and found her mother at the table, sipping a cup of tea, joined by her father with his ale, and...and...
Fucking Jarrett!
JARRETT!
Why was Jarrett there?!
She froze in mid-step with an involuntary squeak, then crossed her arms over her chest as though suddenly fearing the decency of her gown, even though it was thick enough.
Seeing her there, her mother looked away from Jarrett and met her eyes, smiling brightly. "Oh, Einin dear, you're still up. Look who came! Your father and I were talking, and since your poor fiance lives so far away, we decided he could just stay here. It would be terrible to send the hero away injured as he is!"
Jarrett L'isson had been enjoying a cup of tea- which probably seemed about as out of ordinary as the man sitting on a cushioned, pink velvet settee and conversing with her parents! Normally, when the little night time owl had met the man, he had some sort of a corpse tacked to his arm, and normally he was in a situation where he was pretending said corpse was still alive.
But there he was, in his brushed down, dark red suit, the rest of him well polished and cleaned, and no corpse to be seen. When she had entered, he simply stared at the girl and took a delicate sip of his tea, but said nothing. Though it was evident he had some thoughts about the frilly pink gown she was wearing, though as usual, Jarrett kept himself quiet and reserved before setting down his empty tea cup, which her mother promptly fussed over as she called for the servant to fetch some more.
"Why don't you come sit with us, darling?" her mother said. "Tea before bed will help you sleep, certainly, and I'm sure spending some time with your family before you go to sleep after such a day, might also quell wait ails your mind." For surely, her daughter was writhing internally after such a day!
"Heck, she probably could use a bourbon!" her father joked, and Einen's mother cut him a glare.
"Tea will suffice, I'm sure!" came her haughty retort before a smile replaced her glare as she addressed her daughter again. "There's room to sit beside Jarrett. I'm sure your fiance won't mind sharing the settee with you."
Writhing internally, Einin was! Though it was more like screaming internally. And the scream hadn't stopped since she'd laid eyes on Jarrett.
With a stiff smile, she adjusted her gown and walked over to join them, then, with a moment's hesitation, took a seat on the settee beside Jarrett. She tried to relax, tried to look more natural and happy about all this, but it was difficult. Luckily, it seemed they would interpret her discomfort as exhaustion, considering the circumstances.
"Tea sounds lovely," she said and, with a bright smile, she placed her hand over Jarrett's and leaned onto his shoulder like she was in love and tired and needed a place to rest her head. As her mother turned to signal the servant over, Einin lowered her voice and leaned closer to his ear.
"You and me are gonna have a very serious talk," she growled, squeezing his hand tightly. And then her mother looked back at them again and Einin was all smiles, just resting her head against her fiance's shoulder! The servant came to offer her tea, and she sat up straighter again, released Jarrett's hand, and took the cup in hand.
She took a dainty sip. "Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise!" she said. "What a way to end such a horrid day. So Jarrett will be staying with us, then? How exciting!"
Then she paused, lifted her eyebrows. "Where will he be staying?"
Her mother seemed to catch her meaning, for she gave a merry laugh. "Why, in the room across from yours, of course! Oh, honey. You don't actually think we'd let you share a room?" She tsked and shook her head. "Not until you're wed, dear."
OOC: Oh Einen's parents XD
-----
If her words affected him, he didn't seem to show it- in fact, it was hard to tell if her whisper had even been registered by the man or heard at all as he continued to just sit there, staring back at her parents. He didn't even seem that all affected that she was snuggling on up against his shoulder. In fact, the only thing that came from his lips was, "So do you really wear pink at night?" And his voice wasn't even hushed or whispered, and the words came out in a statement. Yes, for some reason- despite all the awkwards going on- Jarrett L'isson seemed fixated on her choice of color for her night dress!
Einin froze, and a blush heated her cheeks. Gods. Why. Just. Why. This was completely ruining her image! She could have gone through the rest of her life happy in the knowledge that Jarrett didn't know the color of her night gown. A pink, frilly night dress really wasn't the sort of thing a masked hero wore to bed.
But, for appearance's sake, she laughed and plastered a cheery smile on her face and tried not to speak through gritted teeth.
"Oh, love, I own others!" she said, and gave him a death glare from the corner of her eye. "I sometimes wear blue. Or red. Like blood."
Smile, smile!
Her mother seemed oblivious. She only gave Jarrett a motherly look for having obviously thought about her daughter in her pink night dress a lot.
This situation, though awkward for both, actually amused the blood mage and assassin. Einen might not have ever seen him smile before, but there it was, somehow, his lips had formed one- and he didn't look to bad with it on. It was a subtle smile, and one that caused some dimples to cut into the dark scruff on his tan face.
And then, -just to show an ounce of humor at her expense, he told her, "I think you look better in feathers." And his words were spoken in such Jarrett L'isson brand nonchalance.
Was he...smiling? Gosh, for a while there, Einin had been positive he wasn't capable of it. She had been about to remark on that when he said something else, though, that made that thought soar out of the window.
Oh nooo!
"Feathers?" her father said, peering up from his drink, while her mother blinked at Einin.
Einin grimaced and elbowed Jarrett in the ribs. Nice going, man! Oh mother of gods, he was going to blow everything, wasn't he? Stupid, stupid imbecile!
"What does that mean, she looks better in feathers?" her mother asked, and to both Einin's relief and horror, judging by the look on her face, she was reaching a much different conclusion than "my daughter dresses up like an owl and runs around picking fights with criminals."
"Um...nothing? I just think...I think he means, uhm...for the wedding, we were thinking, ah, some sort of...bird...motif?"
Jarrett blinked, staring at Einen for a moment- his own face a mask of indifference while she was flailing around like a nut ball.
"Yes... feathers. Birds. Einen like birds."
And the room went quiet.
"Like owls."
And at such a response, he might have began to wonder if it was too much as he added.
"And chickens."
Ok, he probably should have stopped at birds.
Beside Jarrett, Einin made a strangled, gurgling sound, faint enough that only he could hear it, while on her face she wore a large grin. Probably too large! Hopefully her teeth-flashing grin didn't look too much like a snarl, or like the silent scream it was.
HE WAS GOING TO OUT HER!
"U-uhm, yes, darling. I do like birds! Not so much owls or, er, chickens though. Especially not owls. I'm more for...peacocks."
Just keep smiling! Just keep smiling! Oh my gods, was Jarrett always this much of an idiot?!
"Oh! But, hee, bird talk is so boring! You know what, actually, I'm feeling so sleepy right now, I'd better go to bed! Jarrett! I bet you're tired, too, right? You sure went through an ordeal today! Almost dying and everything! That's so rough. Why don't you go to bed, too?"
Because gods help her, she was not leaving him alone with her parents.
Jarrett's expression was indifferent, even as his 'fiance' was floundering.
And his response didn't help matters.
At.
All.
"But if we left alone together, it would imply we're going to have sex."
And he took a sip of his tea from the very, very small and fragile tea cup.
Einin let out a startled yelp, sloshing hot tea over her hand, and let out another yelp because it burned her hand. Setting the cup on the table hurriedly, she stared at Jarrett in horror, not daring to look over at her parents--though she didn't have to look, because she heard their scandalized gasps.
It didn't help matters that her face had gone bright red, spreading down her neck and to her ears.
"We have separate rooms, honey!" she snapped, folding her arms over her chest. "Remember?! Oh, gosh, you really hit your head hard, didn't you? Ahahaha. You poor thing. You really do need to get some sleep, if you think that's actually a thing that could possibly happen."
Her mother was staring at them, mouth agape and tea half raised to her lips.
Her father was glaring at Jarrett. "Yes. I think the young man really ought to get some rest," he said slowly.
Jarrett had plenty more things he could have said, but as it were, he was eventually guided off to Einen from the unified agreement with her parents the man 'needed rest'. He supposed he could hold his tongue for now, and he followed after the shorter girl, she on his arm and he- somehow having brought along his small porcelain tea cup and cigar, though as they made their way up the stairs and paused before their rooms, the blood-mage assassin was having a hard time juggling both with a woman on his arm,a nd the cigar suddenly took the plunge and landed in his tea.
The man frowned.
Einin was fuming as she lead Jarrett to his room. After a comment like that, it would be very, very difficult to get a moment alone together, and they needed a moment alone so they could discuss this stupid engagement and how they were going to wreck it. But alas, a servant came along to be their usher, and Einin sighed in frustration.
Great going, Jarrett. Great going--splash.
She looked over at Jarrett, and then at his tea, where his cigar was now steeping. Then she looked back at him, lifted an eyebrow, and reached out to take it from him.
"You," she whispered, smiling so the servant thought she was whispering niceties. "You and I? We are going to have a talk. And we are going to figure out what the hell we are gonna do about this. Tonight, got it?" Still smiling, she kissed her fingers and then pat his cheek. "Leave your door unlocked, sweetie."
And with that said, she turned on her heel, handed the cup off to the servant, and headed for her room.
At the mention of keeping the door unlocked, he perked up at her comments, then watched in subtle fascination as his cigar and tea were taken away. It was then he shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at Einen's disappearing form. He would have suggested the meeting now, but it seemed the girl had other plans. He supposed he wasn't going to enjoy his night in a fluffy, rich man bed after all. Oh well. Perhaps next time. If there ever was a next time.
And one could never be too sure with Jarrett L'isson.
But he stayed for the night, and even was beginning to get some sleep, some nice, real good sleep for a change- but well before Einen had arrived something happened, something that felt like a bad dream.
Normally her voice was laced into his nightmares, but the woman, his mistress always came calling at the most inopportune times- and this time, he wasn't even sure what was real, and what might have been a dream- but when he heard a noise- was it a knock on the door?- his green eyes suddenly opened and he found himself choking on his own blood.
Coughing the blood onto his hand, he held up his hand and wiped at the blood dribbling down his lipsa nd rubbed it off onto his arms. And then sitting up, he realized, with a few labored breath, his shirt had been torn open, and his limps and chest, slashed through-
and blood...
red, ripe blood... was everywhere.
It stained his skin, the sheets, the floor,t he curtains- even the walls of the room-
and when the noise came again his eyes went to the door as he realized.. Einin.
Shifting to stand, he was only a few feet from the bed, bare feet digging into the bear rug that mixed wth sticky, cold blood. He grimaced and found in that moment, he didn't have time to hide it- to hide anything when he turned around, eyes going wide as Einin, the night time bird, stepped into his room.
And she'd find Jarrett L'isson, half-dressed in his turn red suit from the day prior, covered in blood and cuts. And his entire guest room to match. Seeing her expression, he righted himself, standing more in his casual manner as he turned around to look at her and shoved shoved his hands into his pockets.
"So you wanted to talk?"
And he stared at her with indifference on his bloodied face.
Einin waited several hours before she ventured out of bed--enough time to ensure her parents had retired. She was no stranger to sneaking about, and most of the servants would be asleep by then, too.
Poking her head out of her door to make sure the coast was clear, she shut the door quietly behind her and tip-toed across the hall to Jarrett's room.
Good. So he'd left his door unlocked, as instructed. With another quick glance about, she opened the door and stepped inside.
The smell hit her even before the nightmarish sight did.
There was blood everywhere. The walls, the floor, the curtains, the bed--some had even splattered on the ceiling somehow. Einin's breath caught in her throat and she took an instinctive step backwards, a scream bubbling in her throat that she swallowed back down. It looked like Jarrett had been murdered and for a second she could only stare in blood-freezing shock right before she realized, oh gods, she needed to alert the guard and arm herself and oh fuck but who was the next target and--
And then she saw him. How she had missed him, she wasn't sure, except she was distracted by the bloody horror everywhere.
He was alive.
Covered in blood, suit a tattered mess, and looking utterly indifferent.
A fresh jolt of horror struck her.
Had he killed someone?
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. He was an assassin. She had let an assassin stay in her home! And with all the chaos of the day, she had been stupid, so fucking stupid, that he hadn't stopped for one second to realize what that meant.
Eyes wide, she took a step backwards, breath coming out shakily. "What did you do?"
And then, not wasting another second, she pivoted and ran for her room, throwing open the door and making a wild lunge for her closet, where she kept her sword.
Well, she asked the question, but she was gone before he could reply. Staring at the door, he turned around to observe the room, so when she'd return, his back was to her as she glanced around. Man, he needed a cigar. He wondered if he had any left.
Her closet was by the door, so it didn't take long to grab it and return to Jarrett's room. Part of her knew the logical thing would be to cry for help and sound the alarm, but gods...after everything that had happened the past few days, she didn't want to risk it. Didn't want to risk getting more people involved, more bystanders hurt, more innocents killed. What if her mother heard the commotion, came over, and got hurt? And it could happen before the guard ever arrived.
Sword in hand and leveled at his back, Einin stood in the doorway again and stared him down. It was weird that he hadn't tried to leave; that was what guilty people usually did. Something about that calmed her a little--but only barely, because what the hell was happening?
"Explain yourself."
Jarrett was fumbling with his ripped and bloodied suit until he came across his cigar case, which, the moment it clicked open, he frowned. Staring up from the box at her voice, he turned around, but as usual, didn't seem phased by her words, or weapon. But glancing down at himself, then the floor, and room, again, he gave her only one suggestion.
"If you get some soap and water I can clean this."
Of course, who knew how long that would take- or why he even bothered to request that.
Stepping away from her, he puffed his cheeks a few times, as if smoking the cigar he didn't have as he approached a painting with some blood on it.
"But I think this painting is lost." he tilted his head, realizing the painting was of Einin's mother- only younger. It was easy to tell, she looked a lot like the night time owl with with a different nose shape and mouth.
"You might need to throw this away. Water will run the paint."
Soap and water?! Oh for the love of...
Behind his back, Einin made a motion with her free hand like she wanted to strangle him. It was hard to be afraid of someone who was so...so...ridiculous. And maybe that was the point, because she had seen the dark things he was capable of--and they usually came with that air of absurdity.
Like dancing with a man he had just murdered.
Shuddering at the memory, she let her hand drop back down and stepped into the room, keeping her sword up and ready.
"Forget the painting!" she snapped, voice lowered. "Why does it look like someone died in here? What's going on, Jarrett? I neen answers. Now."
Jarrett still looked at the painting. He said nothing for a while before he looked at her.
"I did this to myself."
There really was no other way to explain it. but he was itching for a cigar.
"Does your father smoke cigars?" he asked suddenly. He really could use a smoke.
"What?"
Einin took another careful step into the room, watching where she put her feet so she didn't step in blood. She pointedly ignored his cigar question and latched onto the rest of what he'd said instead. "What do you mean you did this to yourself? Is this..."
She blinked, took another look around the room. "Is this your blood?"
Jarrett gave a nonchalant glance down to his cut up arms. His chest and legs faired the same, htough it was hard to see through all the blood- but the shinest blood on him was coming from the cuts and wounds.
"I guess most of it is."
Einin took a deep breath and lowered the sword a little, stepped a little closer to him. She had been looking everywhere for a source for that blood--everywhere but him. She had just assumed his ripped clothes were the result of a struggle he had won. Now she was close enough to see the cuts beneath the blood and it looked...pretty bad.
"Most of it," she repeated dully, and looked at the awful scene. She swallowed. There really was a lot of blood. And the smell...
Her stomach churned, but she tore her eyes away and looked at his face, because his words sent a fresh chill down her spine.
"Who else's is it." And as she said it, her hands gripped the sword tighter. "And where are they?"
Jarrett still didn't look her way, even as she spoke and posed her questions. He just stared at the bloody walls.
"I don't know where she is. She never says where she goes."
"Who is she?!" Einin snapped, about reaching the limits of her patience. She stepped around him so she could get a look at his face.
"Would you stop being so cryptic and talk plain for once? What is going on? And...and what are we gonna do about this?!" She waved her arm in a gesture that encompassed the gory room.
Jarrett blinked, a hand by his mouth as if holding a cigar he didn't have. He simply stared at her.
"She's my mistress."
Then he paused before adding, "And I told you to get some soap and water." And he looked thoughtfully back at the room. They'd need a lot of soap and water..
"Your mistress? What does that even--? Argh!" Einin threw her hands up, sword and all, with an exasperated huff. While she would have loved to squeaze more answers out of him, they did have more serious issues here.
Like all the blood.
She rubbed her face with her free hand. "Soap and water isn't going to fix this...that's...that's a lot of blood and..." She took a deep breath. "We gotta tell someone."
Jarrett's eyes remained on the walls.
"I could burn it."
It seemed to work last time.
Kind of.
"No!" Einin snapped, louder than she'd intended. Her eyes went wide and she ducked her head down, shoulders hunched.
"Er, no. No burning. No fire. I don't even want to see you look at fire! And you better not even think about fire! In fact, don't even touch anything red, orange, or yellow, to be sure! Or blue. Some fire can be blue. You know, how about you just not...not."
With another sigh, she glanced at the slaughterhouse of a room and then looked away just as fast; the sight made her want to gag. "Actually, maybe you should just, you know...leave."
Jarrett was still observing the room- the mess, the blood; when Einin continued to go off over her 'No, no, nos'. He went quiet a moment, but only for a brief time at her last suggestion before idly replying, "But she already knows you're here."
"What?" Einin looked at him sharply then, eyebrows lifted. His words sent a chill down her spine, but she tried not to show how disturbing she found that.
"I mean, what...should that matter? You leave, she goes with you." Pause. "Right?"
"I don't own her," she stated simply, not much fluctuation in the tone of his voice. "She owns me." He then turned to peer at Einin.
"I don't think she likes you."
He peered up at the wall.
Yeah...
She never left this much blood if she did....
"But...I don't even know her!" Einin said, perplexed. "I don't even--look, you have got to explain what the hell is going on, because I'm really confused right now and where did that blood even come from?! How am I even gonna explain this!"
She began to pace, running her fingers through her hair. "What would Owl do?" she muttered. "What would--wait."
She spun around to face Jarrett again as a chilling thought hit her. "Where is she now?"
It was at her question that he moved from where he stood and cocked his head.
"She left. I don't know where she goes." Peering back to the room, he frowned a bit more. Yeah... scrubbing the walls might not get rid of this so easily.
"Know any water mages?"
Yeah, maybe magic might help. If not, he'd suggest the fire again except.. unfortunately, he knew if they were to set fire to this room- it would take the entire estate with it.
He remained thoughtful and quiet for a time before giving a shrug.
"And if you were Owl, you would have tried to chase me off with your sword." As if that statement wasn't obvious. Though as it were, they were both playing entirely different roles-a nd somehow.. Jarrett was stuck in this as her fiance. Well, he supposed it would get him closer to her father. Her father did have a bounty on his head. But he figured he could bide his time- you know, unless they decided to kick him out for this. That idea made him frown.
"We could fake my death."
There was enough blood, however, for several deaths, but perhaps no one would know? And they would both get out of the false engagement...
THough he wouldn't lie, the plush bedding was nice. Nice enough he had considered ways to prolong such shenanigans to keep him here. Looks like, however, he'd already lost his chance.
Peering over at Einin, he found himself suddenly staring at her in her night gown. Though it was hard to tell if he was staring at her body, or through it.
"No!" Einin blurted, and then reined herself in and took a breath.
"No. There's too much blood for it to look like you died. This looks more like you murdered a couple cows! And if you died, there'd be an investigation, there'd be the question of where your body went, they'd want to contact your family, and I'd somehow have to know all that! And I don't, because you're not legit! You're not a noble! And then I'm in trouble as they start to piece things together and get wise to me. So no, you can't die. We're going to end this false engagement, obviously, but we're going to do it believably and discreetly in a way that is natural and normal so people don't ask questions."
She ran her hands through her hair, staring at the mess. "Which begs the question of what we do here...ah!"
With a laugh, Einin slapped her forehead. "Of course. I can't believe I didn't think of this. Alright, move out of the way. I'm going to, ah...I'm going to hide the mess for now. Okay? But after I do, you have to make sure not to let anyone in there. I can hide it; I can make it look like what people expect to see. But if anyone goes in there, they're gonna...well...they're gonna step in the blood and it'll all fall apart. Got it? So we'll still have to figure out what to do about this, but...I can buy some time."
Jarrett looked up at the blood coating the walls, then furniture, and his bed. Then he peered down at her.
"I still think we need a water mage."
Or maybe when she wasn't looking he could burn it.
With an irritated huff, Einin grabbed Jarrett by the arm to pull him out of the room. Then she stepped past him and stared into the bloody space, steeling herself. She wanted to look away, for she was finding this rather...disgusting...but she needed to view it so she could change it. She couldn't alter what she couldn't see.
"Do you know any water mages?" she asked as she readied herself. "Because I sure don't. Water mages who can come in here, and who won't squeal about this mess? Gods, Jarrett, I just..." She glanced back at him. "I seriously don't know what to do about this, okay? Or you! You're a mess! But I guess you can bathe...we're gonna have to get you a bath right away! And new clothes! And..."
She shook her head, turning back to the room. "We are so screwed..."
Focusing her attention solely on the room then, she pictured what it was now, and what she wanted it to be. Focused, felt that familiar power swell within her, and willed it outward. If someone asked her how she did it, she would never be able to describe it; the act of illusion casting was just something she'd always been able to do. Before long, the room shimmered faintly as the magic laid over it, and then the room was no longer a bloody, torn up mess, but exactly what it had been before the debacle tonight.
Jarrett was silent... silently contemplating a solution to all of this giving her frantic nature over the matter. He supposed he'd be as riled up as she was if it were not for his current view on life and the world- for he always appeared so casual, and not many things, eccentric or other wise, seemed to phase him.
"I suppose we could say I killed someone in the night." Or someones. "Trespassers.." he said, giving a thoughtful purse of his lips. "Unless we come up with something better.." He looked her over, going silent once again before he shrugged. "Sorry for all of that."
And even to him- his odd, monotone apologize sounded strange.
Einin regarded Jarrett flatly. "You're kidding," she said. "Because that is the worst idea, and makes you look utterly mad. You killed trespassers, whose bodies are not around, and for some reason decided it fitting to paint the walls red?"
She sighed heavily. "I'll figure something out."
Jarrett frowned a bit over what she said, but it was a thoughtful expression more than one of disappointment. In fact, Jarrett showing much of any facial expression never seemed to happen as he blinked, regarded the room with deeper scrutiny. And just when it seemed he was going to make more comments about it, all he said was.
"Yeah... I guess a bath would be nice." And gave an itch to some of the dried blood on his neck.
Einin shot Jarrett a look. Sometimes--like all the time--she felt like he wasn't even listening to her. Or at least, that he only heard what he wanted to hear. How long ago had she mentioned baths?
Still, it was a good idea.
"It's the middle of the night..." she said, and began to pace. "You don't have a tub in your room. But I have one in mine. But no water...certainly not warm, so you're just going to have to deal with that. Do you have any other clothes?"
Jarrett stared at her plainly, and answered simply, "No."
Not that he had the money for it, nor the means...
considering he was here to play a wealthy nobleman...
from Essyrn, of all places. Essyrn... didn't those men just walk around naked sometimes? He stared off in thought, but found his eyes drifting back towards the room that was enchantedly hiding the gore from view.
"You don't have any other clothes," Einin repeated flatly, staring. And then she groaned and palmed her forehead. She was probably going to get a permanent mark there with all the face-palming Jarrett induced in her. "So your whole plan with being engaged to me, being Essyrni nobility engaged to me..."
She rubbed her temples. "So you hatch this brilliant plan aaaand...that's seriously your only set of clothes? You're nobility, Jarrett! Or you're supposed to be! Nobility have clothes! Surely you have the money, if you can buy your smelly cigars! And what you're wearing looks fine enough. You seriously didn't think to pack another set of clothes? People are gonna notice that! Not to mention the blood! Not that I'd expect you to pack for a blood bath here..."
If Jarrett was monosyllabic, Einin certainly did enough talking for the both of them. And frankly, his nonchalance was not helping her mood. "No one will be selling anything this time of night. I suppose I could snatch something of my father's, and hope it fits, but ahaha. Like that won't go unnoticed and--"
Rounding on Jarrett, she put her hands on his hips. "We'll just have to wash all of you. Clothes and all. That does it. Is the blood dry? We'll have to go before it sets! And then you'll just have to...I don't even know! Sit around in seclusion in wet clothes until you dry!"
Jarrett remained quiet, but when she question his plan, he simply shrugged.
"I wasn't planning to stick around."
But of course, now.. he apparently was. But he missed the reasoning behind the cigar comment and gave her stare laced with indifference. But at the mention of washing all of him, he stared at her, then down at all six feet of his body, then back to her.
"We'll?" He seemed almost hesitant to ask as he gave a slow tilt of his head. And what did she mean 'until he dried'? And by now, as the gears were working inside his head, his frown became more visible.
"Yes. We," Einin said with a firm nod. "You think I'm going to let you go off on your own? No. I leave you alone for a night and the guest room gets remodeled. You're alone with fire, and an estate burns down. I'm not going to leave you alone with water in my home and find out what happens. Now just...go back inside your room and wait a moment. Don't...don't step in anything."
She gave him a push toward his room. "I'm going to call for a bath. It's not the first time I've taken one so late 'because I couldn't sleep'--" Really, it was just because she'd been back from adventuring. "--so it'll be fine. We'll just bring you in my room."
Jarrett gave a rub to the back of his head, frowning a bit at the idea.
"Won't your parents get upset? I mean, if you have me caught in your room?"
Nobles did have such strange rules, after all- not that he entirely followed their etiquette, but he was learning, through observation. And though he presumed she wanted to be stealthy about this, he had seen... well, stealth first hand in regards to Owl. He wasn't entirely sure this wouldn't be one of those times where stealth failed them. But of course, he also wasn't entirely sure what to do about their predicament either. But really... some soap and water helped... a little. Maybe.
So he supposed he'd just deal with whatever she was offering for now and slipped his hands into his pockets with a shrug and moved back towards his room.
"They're asleep. It'll be fine," Einin said, and made a shooing motion at him. But once he was safely back in his room, she took off to find a servant working the night shift and quickly made her request.
It took some time, for water needed to be heated and brought in, but soon the tub in Einin's room was filled with steaming water. She ushered the servants away, stating she needed no assistance and just wanted to soak away the aches her earlier adventure with fires and burning buildings had given her, and once they were gone, Einin waited a good few more minutes to ensure the coast was clear before she left her room to fetch Jarrett.
Opening his door, she motioned him out. "C'mon, hurry up, before the water gets cold!" Which, actually, it might have been a better idea if the water was cold. She'd forgotten warm water set bloodstains.
The first thing that would greet her would be the heavy scent of a cigar. It drifted leisurely through the air as Jarrett puffed away at it, half reclined now on the bed. Seeing the door come open, however, he had the sense enough to sit up and peer over at her and rise to his feet, following her out while still nursing his smoke.
"Put that out," Einin whispered at him, and reached up to snatch it away from him. "Don't smoke in here. It stinks! And my parents say it'll ruin the paintings. Um..." She stared at the still smoking cigar, nose wrinkling at the smell, and then shoved it back at him when she realized she didn't know what to do with it.
"You put it out. Anyway, hurry!"
She grabbed his wrist and dragged him into her room, shutting the door behind them. "Okay, get in the bath!"
Not knowing really where to extinguish the cigar, he found a nearby empty plate and smashed the smoldering end into it until the smoke disappeared. Then, leaving it on the plate in the hall, he moved into Einen's room and stared down at the warm bath, unmoving, even at her command. In fact, the command elicited a frown.
"Doesn't a bath in my clothing seem silly to you?" he said, loosening the collar of his shirt some.
"Yes, it's silly, but it's happening," Owl said, and gave him a push toward the bath as he started loosening his collar. "All of you needs washing, so may as well do it in one go! Now get in!"
"Sounds strange when you have laundry maids to do it." But with a shrug, he stepped in, boots and all, right into the warm waiting bath. His long legs probably looked silly, as he himself didn't quite fit in the tub as he peered down at his red suit- and the now 'turning red' waters. And after a moment of simply staring at the waters changing colors, he finally began to splash waters onto his face and soak his hair, all the while fighting off the images of the horrors of the first time the blood baths had begun.
It all happened in a bath- clean and clear, then murky and red....
And so many had died... and had died because of him. And the images were enough and so over powering that, even the slow nonchalance of Jarrett seemed off, and he was barely getting any more water onto his head, missing and pouring half of his handfuls simply back into the pooling red waters around him.
"Um...Jarrett...?"
The guy was totally spacing out. It had been weird enough that he'd gotten in with his boots--he could have at least taken those off--but now...
He was just...
Sort of splashing aimlessly.
With him sitting in bloody water, it made him look kind of crazed.
"Jarrett!"
Jarret lifted up his head, water gushing down his face from his hair, which was now slicked and suctioned partially against his face. He peered up at Owl, but said nothing.
Einin raised her eyebrows at him, staring back. "What are you doing?"
At such a question, Jarrett blinked.
"Bathing with my clothes on?" And he moved to grab the nearby soaps and wash clothe, beginning to scrub some of it into his black hair.
"I know that!" Einin said with a snort. "I mean, are you okay? You're acting kinda weird."
Says the one who had ushered Jarrett in to bathe clothed.
Jarrett gave a blink, peering at Einin for a good long while, something about his gaze seemed... different, but it didn't take long before those green eyes to slip back into their normal indifference. He gave a shrug.
"It's been a long day..." And he worked at trying to scrub himself down, whch was an awkward feat in itself, considering the restrictions of the bath, how long his torso was, and he had several.. several layers of clothing to scrub around.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Einin let out a small sigh. "We're in agreement, there," she said, and took a seat on her bed, watching him.
"I guess just...brace yourself. It's gonna be a hectic next few days."
Jarrett gave one curious glance her way, water and suds dribbling down his face before he continued to work awkwardly at his bath, then sitting htere, full of glittering bubbles, he contemplated how to remove them the quickest- and well, the obvious solution was to dunk himself under the water-
So he did.
And he just lay there, on his back, long legs awkwardly sticking out on either side of the lips of tub as he remained, calm and serene beneath the red water's surface, with bubbles of breath, rising ot the surface on occasion from his closed lips. It was calm under here. And he wondered, idly, if this was how death felt like for some.
Long day, indeed.
Jarrett dunked himself beneath the surface, and...didn't resurface. Einin waited, shooting uneasy looks at her door as though a maid or her parents would suddenly decide to come bursting in during the wee hours like they did all of never, and...Jarrett was still underwater. Bubbles drifted up and popped on the surface, and Einin arched an eyebrow. What was he doing? He should be coming back up any moment. Gods, the man was weird.
Yup.
Any moment.
...Had he fallen asleep down there?
"Jarrett?" She waited, saw more bubbles pop, and nudged his leg with her foot. "Jarrett?" Oh gods. What if he'd drowned himself? What if he had drowned, and now, as the ultimate cosmic irony, the corpse had become him! He had a thing for bodies! What would she do with a body in her house? How would she explain that Jarrett had drowned in her tub in her room? He was too big for her to drag! It wasn't like she could stuff him somewhere if he croaked!
She kicked his leg this time, hard enough to bruise, and jumped to her feet, about ready to plunge her hands in and yank his head to the surface. "Jarrett!"
The last kick was enough to rouse him. Green eyes opened and peered up at Einin through the wavering waters before a few large air bubbles escaped and skewed his view. ANd a second later, he surfaced, black hair slicked over his eyes, blinding him while waters gushed down his form. He sat there a moment, large hands resting on either sides of the bath before naturally, one of pieces of hair that had suctioned over his eye slipped away, and that single green eye opened to peer back at Einin as waters were dribbling down his chin. He said nothing, but simply stared at the young woman with indifference, though perhaps there might have been the most subtle hint of curiosity asking, what did she want?
Einin stared back, one eyebrow arched and head tilted slightly. The man was...utterly baffling to her. She didn't think she'd ever figure him out.
"Did you fall asleep down there or something?"
Jarrett gave a slow blink, then peered down at the waters, now dark with the majority of the blood that had once remained caked and sticky to his form. Though a few patches of blood clung to the hard to reach places, it was a vast improvement to how he was blood covered before.
"I was letting the blood soak away," he spoke plainly. Then after a moment, he added, "And thinking."
Rising from the bath, waters gushed down his form, some spilling off and onto the floor as he stepped outside of the tub. Water was soon pooling by his feet, his boots and pants bubbling before even the waters trapped in there were finally released, and he reached for a towel and began to ruffling it through his dark hair.
He said nothing, taking the towel as he looked away from her and began to dab it at his now soaked clothing.
"I should leave here."
And he bent over and began to towel off his legs, but by now, the single towel he was using was soaked all of the way through, and useless for what he was trying to do.
Einin internally screamed when Jarrett pooled water all over her clean floor without waiting for her to give him a towel. In fact, he grabbed the towel after he was out of the tub! Did he not know how to bathe?! Did he not know that you dried most of yourself before you got out, and then dried your feet before you stepped onto the floor, so you didn't track water everywhere?! Thankful that she'd grabbed a few towels to account for his size, Einin dropped a towel on the floor and began mopping up after him.
"Just...stand here. Stand on the towel and don't move until you've stopped dripping," she finally said, tired frustration in her voice. She tossed the last towel at him, for the one he was using looked rather soaked through.
"And yes. It would be easier if you left," she said frankly. "I can't...I can't have an assassin in my house. One with a mistress that hates me and makes everything...um...bloody. In fact, I should by rights be bringing you to justice."
She rubbed her face, shoulders slumping. "But...like I said, we have to do this the right way. The smart way. And before you leave, you're going to help me clean up this mess." She flashed him a lopsided grin. "Don't think you're getting out of cleaning duties so easily, sir."
Jarrett stared at her. It was silly she was fussing over the water pooling from the bath when there was still an entire guest room covered in blood. Unless that's what she meant. He needed a smoke, but then realized, with a frown, he didn't remove his cigar case from his pocket. They were probably soaked.
Glancing down at Einin, he accepted the towel and began to run it through his hair.
"I think you've forgot. I offered to help clean earlier," he said simply. It was his idea to scrub the walls of the blood anyway. Though even he knew that room was probably ruined. Maybe they could just paint over it....
And his mind was adrift with thoughts, as was his gaze. But his gaze always went distant, and the tall assassin, always seeming to be never quite there.
"You did offer," Einin conceded. "But we need to find a better way than that." She rubbed her temples, frowning. It was too late to think about it, and she was too tired for this kind of craziness. It would have to wait until morning, because even if she had a plan, she couldn't execute it when the entire city was sleeping. This was way beyond any sort of magic that she possessed.
She chewed on her thumbnail, thinking, and then looked up to see that Jarrett seemed to be...
Spacing out again.
Stepping closer to him, she passed a hand in front of his face. "Jarrett? Hi? Are you still here?"
The swift motion of a blurred hand caught his attention as green eyes refocused and looked at the hand, then up at her. And he just stared at her a moment longer.
"So am I to go back to my room like this, or did you have another plan?"
He was six feet tall and all six feet of him was still a little more than damp. Towels cold only do so much against him, and as he shifted his weight, water gushed out from his shoes and dribbled out onto the floor. His gaze went from her then to the mess as he took a step, but the water only followed, while some of it was still dripping off his black hair.
Einin groaned, hands twitching with the effort it took not to grab him and shake him.
"Stop! Stop moving! You're getting it all over, just--"
Unable to stop herself, she grabbed him by the arm. "Just...stop. Alright? Take off your shoes, empty them out over the tub..." She said it like a mother instructing an unruly child. Really, he was a grown man! This shouldn't be that difficult!
Jarrett simply blinked, then as instructed, bent over, removed the shoe, let the water fall into the bath before doing the same with the other. He wasn't sure he wanted to put those shoes back on, but he felt awfully uncomfortable with his red suit clinging to him. So he peered over at Einin, studying her a moment before saying,
"I should find something else to wear."
There'd likely be questions as to why he was soaking wet. But.. at least the blood stains were gone.
Einin heaved a sigh, shoulders slumping. This was so ridiculous. The whole situation. Get engaged to an assassin accidentally, bring him home, have blood explode everywhere, figure out how to clean him, and...find out he has no other clothes. Why her? Why did this day have to be so crazy? Escaping from a burning manor was clearly not wild enough.
She rubbed her temples, her brain starting to hurt. "My father's clothes would likely fit you, but...obviously, we can't go to my parents' chambers. And he'd notice. Maybe. Maybe not! He has a lot of clothes, but..."
She chewed her bottom lip. He wouldn't dry quick enough, and his red suit was obvious enough that everyone would notice he'd worn the same clothes twice in a row. And if you were wealthy, that was something you just didn't do. Wracking her brain for ideas, she paced, avoiding the puddles on the floor--which she would also have to clean up.
She'd also have to figure out how to get rid of the bloody water...
Ughhhh.
An idea popped into her head and she spun back around, expression brightening. "There may be some clothes in the servants' area. Ah, laundry they haven't yet put away, or that needs washing. We may be able to find one of my father's more...generic outfits. Something he wouldn't miss, something unremarkable enough he won't know it's his. Maybe...it's a stretch! But it's all we've got! Otherwise, it's wet clothes for you, I'm afraid!"
Jarrett gave a shrug.
"I've gone with worse before," he stated simply, plainly as his green eyes took a moment to take in her room- and all of the frilly girly-ness it entailed. It was interesting, needless to say, that he should find himself here of all places- and quite by accident in the end. After all, her father was one of his marks and she? Well...
It was just peculiar indeed, and though it was not as obvious to tell on the more stoic man as he, he was just as curious of her as she was of him, and without so much as a word, he stepped away from his soggy, messy area and stepped towards her room, taking it in, each and every minute detail- from a music box on the table, to the lamps and lush, exotic rugs on the floor. To the tapestries and paintings to which lead him one of a slightly younger version of Einin, smiling and happy with sweet rosy cheeks. She must've been fourteen or so, a few years younger than she was now, and he found himself craning his neck at it- as if transfixed.
He needed a smoke.
Einin followed close behind Jarrett as he went further into her room. She wasn't going to lie--she was nervous that he might mess up her room, too!
"Hey, what are you doing? Did you even hear me? Wanna give me some input on the suggestions I--"
She cut off, and followed where he was looking. Then she blushed and grabbed his soggy sleeve, giving it a tug.
"Ugh, what are you--don't, I look terrible in that! Come on, we need to get you dressed!"
That painting was there not because she wanted it there, but because her mother had put it there. She rather hated it; it was awkward having a young version of yourself staring down at you while you slept, and besides, she'd been sick the day it had been painted, though of course the artist had taken artistic liberties to make it pretty! But she remembered that day! And it had been a pain in the ass holding still and staying upright when she'd just wanted to sleep.
It was after a time of long staring at Einin that Jarrett finally answered her.
"I could go steal some new clothes."
Which still didn't fix the problem of him being sopping wet in his current attire- or perhaps it did.
"We're not going to steal anything!" Einin said, bristling at that suggestion. "Owl doesn't steal, and neither will I. And I won't let anyone steal under my watch, either."
Jarrett simply stared at her. And after a time, he simply blinked. He supposed he could just stand around and wait for his clothing to dry.... unless the girl had been serious about him borrowing clothes. So he simply stared at her, still saying nothing as he remained as stoic and uninspirational as ever.
Einin stared back at Jarrett, and then, after a long moment, she threw her hands up with a huff.
"Kia, you're no help at all! Come on, let's go borrow some of my father's clothes. Maybe. Unless you have some other suggestion that doesn't involve stealing?"
He gave a lame shrug and simply said, "Lead the way."
If he couldn't steal- he got nothing.
OOC: lol short post, sorry XD
[OOC: Silly, you never have to apologize for that! <3]
With another sigh, Einin turned and lead the way out of her room. "Just...try not to make any noise, okay?" she said. "Maybe take off your shoes so they don't squeak so much. Anyway, just follow me and don't touch anything or bump anything or--you know."
Down the hall they went, and Einin was tense as they walked, ears straining for the sounds of servants. Most would be asleep at this hour, but sometimes Sorcha couldn't sleep and so she wandered and did busywork until she tired herself out. And sometimes, worse, her father stayed up late to tend to tend to business.
But she could see no lights on, and so she ushered Jarrett down another hall, toward a side-door, and down a small set of stairs that lead to the servant's area.
Jarrett looked at his shoes. They were rather squishy, and squeaky from being water logged. So with another nonchalant motion, the pair of shoes were removed and the damp socks of the assassin made barely a noise as he followed Einin, and only two, small wet foot prints were left in his wake, which would dry swiftly on the plush carpet. And as they went, the assassin kept his hands in his pockets as he studied the house, and paused to stare up at another painting- this one was of her mother when she was Einin's age, and on her arm- Einin's father. He tilted his head in interest, seeming to almost forget they had a mission, a plan.
Einin gotten down the steps before she realized Jarrett wasn't following her.
With a strangled groan of frustration, she spun on her heel, headed back up the steps, and poked her head around the corner. "Jarrett?" she whispered, looking this way and that. She crept out into the hall and backtracked back into the main hall, squinting in the dark. "Jarrett, where did you--?"
She cut off when she caught sight of him, standing there and staring up at a painting of her parents.
Lady Beirne had been eighteen when she'd married, and had given birth to Einin just a little over nine months later, at the age of nineteen, while her father had married at the age of twenty-four. The painting was of the young couple on their wedding day, both glowing with happiness.
Einin came to a stop next to Jarrett and peered up at the painting with him. "It worked out for them," she remarked quietly. "They fell in love."
"There are a lot of paintings of your family," he commented idly, eyes still glued to the painting.
"I guess when you marry, they'll paint one of you."
Einin covered her mouth to muffle a groan. "Kia, I hope not! Don't get me wrong, they're pretty and all, but it's kind of weird to have yourself looking down at you wherever you go..."
Jarrett went silent and kept staring.
"Yeah, that would be strange."
He couldn't ever imagine a painting of himself. Then again, those things didn't exactly exist in his sort of life.
"Really weird," Einin agreed with a nod, before she grabbed Jarrett's soggy sleeve and gave it a tug. "So, you gonna keep staring at that or are you coming or what?"
Jarrett moved away from the painting and followed after Einin, in silence as usual. Though as they moved down to the end of the hall, he paused to glance back once more before the two disappeared around the bend.
"So, uh..." Einin lead the way down the steps, keeping her hand on Jarrett's sleeve to make sure he was still with her. She'd noticed his tendency to get lost in his own world. "You sure seemed enthralled back there. Never seen a portrait or what?"
Jarrett gave a shrug.
"I've seen portraits. I guess they just interest me." And he followed after her and kept up with her pace, but frowned as he looked down at where she was pinching his sleeve.
Einin grinned over at Jarrett as she closed the door behind them. "Don't tell me you've got a thing for my mother."
"She was a beautiful woman," he replied plainly. "But I was examining the way the artist captured the scene. It's interesting to see what a person can do with something as simple as paint."
"Oh." Einin looked at Jarret in surprise, and then laughed. Oh, good! So he wasn't scoping out her mother after all! Because that would just be weird.
Not that her mother wasn't gorgeous, but...come on...it was her mother!
"Oh, thank gods. But yes! It is pretty amazing, and so lifelike. When I paint, my people look like potatoes..." Which frustrated her, because she liked painting, and hated that she was bad at it. She shook her head. "Suppose we can't be great at everything. Now, if you're done, c'mon! At this rate it'll be morning by the time we get down there!"
Why didn't she just paint potatoes? He recalled, from somewhere, perhaps many, that one should focus on one's talents. And though there was no confirming on Einin's concern, he'd probably bed her mother had he the chance. She was, as Einin noted, a gorgeous woman. He'd be a fool not to.
And despite being.. well, as awkward as he seemed, Jarrett was still a man.
"How far is the room?" he found himself asking, casually following after the girl.
"It's just right down here," Einin said as she lead the way, through the door, down the stairs, and to a room just to the left. She kept her voice low; the servant's sleeping area wasn't far away, and it was a blessing that their storage room was close by. In it were piles of clothes that were set to be washed come morning, and Einin motioned Jarrett over.
The clothes weren't clean, but knowing her father, none would be particularly dirty. He was, in general, meticulous about his appearance.
Digging through the laundry basket, Einin pulled out a pair of trousers. "See if these fit."
Blinking, he stared down at the pants. And after just a moment, he unlatched his buckle and dropped his pants.
Einin had turned away to start digging for a shirt, and when she found one, she turned back to Jarrett with a victorious grin.
That faded when she saw his lack of pants.
She squeaked, dropping the shirt, and clapped both hands to her mouth. "Whatareyoudoing?!"
Jarrett just stared at her, and after a good long while, he blinked.
"I'm trying on the trousers." Which she just told him to do!
"I didn't say try them on! I said see if they fit! Those a very different statements!" Einin said, covering her eyes with her hand.
Jarrett continued to stare, silence laying between them.
"Site alone does not mean they'll fit."
And the half blood had long limbs, besides. He didn't get what the big deal was. But then again, some women in certain countries were just so testy. Though he normally never had to deal with that kind.
Einin flapped a hand at him, signaling an end to the debate. "Alright, alright. Well, you've already dropped your trousers so may as well finish it. Hurry up and try them on!"
Jarrett only stared at her for what seemed like an eternity before moving to pull up the trousers. They seemed to fit- mostly- except the obvious gap in length at the bottom. He was, after all, a bit taller than her father- and the pants were short enough they exposed all of his sock.
When Einin heard all the rustling cease, she spread her fingers and peeked through the cracks. Seeing it was safe, she let her hand dropped and then walked a circle around him, looking him over.
And then laughed when she saw how short they were on him.
"Yep," she said. "Nailed it. Completely. But I suppose that'll have to do?"
Jarrett looked down at his pants,t hen back to Einin.
"I guess it's either this or my bloodied suit."
But he wasn't sure which one was more unacceptable... considering hed' witnessed enough lords and ladies going crazy over one simple thread out of place on a suit or dress.
"Errrr...let's take our chances with this one, alright?" Einin said, face scrunching up at the thought of him wearing the bloodied suit. "I think this, at least, is a little less...serial killer?"
Jarrett just shrugged and said simply, "I am an assassin."
As if she didn't know that. But glancing down at his bloodied shirt, he then looked to her.
"Got a shirt to match?"
"Just because you're an assassin doesn't mean you should wear the evidence splattered all over you," Einin said, as she answered his final question by digging around for a shirt. "It's gross. Ah! Here we are. What do you think?"
Einin shook out the shirt, which was a rather dressy one, and held it up against Jarrett's chest to measure it.
Watching her measure it, he remained silent before answering one of her comments.
"I didn't get the blood from a job."
"I know that!" Einin said, and shoved the shirt into his hands. "It was just an expression. Try that on."
Jarrett stared down atthe shirt, then back at her, then down to the shirt. He wasted no time in shrugging off his jacket, working at the buttons of his shirt when a noise was heard, the shuffling of feet and before they knew it, Jarrett had drawn a knife and was pointing it directly at a now screaming maid who took off running- and was probably waking up the whole damn house.
OOC: okay I'm so tired and loopy, I forget the precise location of where they are but the idea of htem getting caught amused me but I can fix it if it makes no sense XD derp
[Which is hilarious because I was planning on bringing in a maid when he was shirtless! GREAT MINDS! xDDD]
"WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!" Einin yelped as the maid ran off screaming, her face pale and heart racing. He'd just about given her a bloody heart attack!
"Put that away! Put the knife away! Oh bloody Kia, don't pull knives on my staff! Now she's gonna wake up the whole house and--come on! We have to go!"
Jarrett just simply blinked. The knife was still in his hand when he turned to look at Einin.
"Put that away!" Einin repeated, and reached out to snatch it from him.
Quicker than he seemed capable of, the knife was put away and a frown cast upon her.
"Go?" And to where? It seemed pointless to him when they were already caught and well... He had a feeling Einin wouldn't go for his methods of quieting her staff.
"Are you deaf? Yes! Go!" Einin repeated, and she grabbed his arm roughly and started to pull at him, tugging him toward the door they'd come from--the one her servant had ran away through. "Come on!"
As Jarrett was ushered forward, his awkward, forced steps nearly made the tall man stumble. But as they were moving along, he kept in pace beside Einin, curious as to where she'd lead them to now. If it were up to him, he'd find a way to flee this place, and his eyes searched for such an outlet.
Oh man, oh man, she didn't know how they were going to explain this! And as they hurried back down the hall toward their rooms, she started to hear rushing footsteps, and her heart leaped into her throat.
She grabbed Jarrett's arm. "Okay, okay, what are we gonna say? What do we tell them?!"
Jarrett simply stared at Einin but it was too late. Her parents were there- looking at them with eyes of judgement. And though Jarrett did not flinch as her father went on, demanding him to explain what happened, Jarrett simply told him,
"I was just frisking your daughter."
And her parents just stared, her father going red faced- about ready to blow his top where as her mother, immediately thinking to the scandal of it all, fainted. If it were not for her husband catching her, his arms might have been strangling or back handing Jarrett. The man barred his teeth.
"In this house there is to be NO such actions upon my daughter! Do I make my self clear!?" And his eyes were fueled with aburning rage as he looked from Jarrett- then over to Einin. And when he looked at her, his eyes became even more...
judging.
Einin could have screamed! Her face flooded with heat, going bright red, and that certainly didn't help the situation any as her father interpreted it as guilt.
"WHAT?! NO! Jarrett! Why would you say that?!" she snapped in sheer mortification, her hands flying to her mouth.
"There was no frisking! There was no anything! We were just, um...he got lost! So I was showing him back!"
Wow. Way to be super convincing, Einin.
But such a story from his daughter hardly had the man convinced! And those eyes only became more judging.
Jarrett stared from father to daughter in silence, but simply nodded at the request.
"Very well. I will reserve the time to be intimate with my fiance when we are more alone."
And everyone seemed to go quiet at that. And naturally, Jarrett's face was as stoic and plain as ever.
"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!" Einin repeated, voice rising to a shriller volume. She punched Jarrett in the shoulder, her face tomato-red--neither of which did much to prove her innocence.
"There is no intimacy! No intimacy of that kind! In fact, I think the two of us need to have a nice, long talk about proper behavior and expectations here, because someone apparently thinks me a common floozy!"
"Yes, but the conversation will have to wait," her mother chimed in, sternly as she gave them both a look. "I think your fiance needs to cool off."
And her husband nodded. Naturally, he'd agree.
"Yes.. Einin, perhaps we should also have a talk with you. We have a lot of important issues to discuss.." he went on, clearing his throat as he looked from his daughter to this... 'potental' son in law with a frown. "I'm sure you can find means to entertain yourself?"
But naturally, Jarrett said nothing.
Einin was in the dog house.
She was so deep in the dog house, she was the dog.
She grimaced, shoulders hunching, and shot Jarrett a bitter look. She was going to kill him later--if he didn't die from another bloodsplosion or something first.
Or if her father didn't slay him with his eyes. For though the look he gave her was stern, the look he gave Jarrett was murderous.
"I bid you good night. I trust you know the way back to your quarters?"
Jarrett nodded, barely something of a regal gesture before making his way back to his room. Thankfully, he wasn't followed the entire way, as her parents focused more on her staying put, than their guest. So he was able to get back into his blood stained room without much query- except that, to even his dismay, the room appeared anything but bloodied.
For a second, he wondered if Einin's magics were still at play, but when a noise behind him came out in a gnarled hiss, he didn't have a second to react. And a moment later he was pinned onto the bed, nd the familiar sharp nails and voice of his mistress was all over him. And seconds later, everything just went dark.
The day would come and go as usual, no one disturbing Lord L'isson except the maid that knocked on his door. But getting no response,s he left to go about her other duties, however, when she reported to Lord Beirne about it at the breakfast table, he nearly dropped his tea.
Einin was also late to breakfast, for she was tired from all the action last night. Er. Wow. That sounded bad, considering what her parents had feared. All the sneaking and staying up late searching for clothes!
...Not much better, out of context.
Her mother gave her one hell of a lecture that had left her blushing furiously, a frank discussion about the birds and the bees and the importance of chastity before her eventual marriage, and a lot of awkward questions about the nature of this...Jarrett L'isson. In the end, however, Einin managed to leave her satisfied. She couldn't quiiite escape completely unscathed, because her mother was 100% convinced something had been going on between them, so she'd had to admit to a heavy makeout session (but nothing more!) and had acted just guilty enough that her mother bought it. It helped that she was totally red-faced while she squeaked the words out, and she hadn't had to really fake that; the mortification was genuine.
So, she won some, she lost some. She could deal with her parents thinking she'd been having sloppy makeouts with the guy. It was better than the alternative!
Come morning, Einin rose a bit late, unaware of what had occurred minutes before between her father and a servant. She dressed and crept cautiously from her room, looked both ways, and knocked on Jarrett's door.
But like the maid found out, there was no response. Not even a sound could be heard from the other side, of breathing or snoring, or anything. It was like no one was even there.
Because, perhaps, no one was.
No response. Einin tried knocking again, but when that yielded the same results, she felt worry creep into the pit of her belly.
Oh dear...
With a deep breath, she put a hand on the door knob, turned it, and opened the door.
Pleasenodeadbodies. Pleasenodeadbodies. Pleasenodeadbodies.
Einin got her wish. There were absolutely no dead bodies to be had. In fact, even without her enchantment, there was no blood to be had. It was removed from everything as if it never had even happened! And here was also no alive bodies either, as Jarrett wasn't their, either.
Somehow, that was even more unsettling.
At least she'd been prepared for dead bodies.
A chill went down Einin's spine, and she stepped tentatively inside the room. But it was, indeed, empty, and as she cautiously inspected the sheets, she found the blood was gone.
They were clean.
As though nothing had ever happened...
Holy shit.
Perhaps this was the end of their tale, their destiny to break now and who knows if it'd ever rekindle later. But one thing was for certain, though Jarrett L'isson was gone, his mark was already made, and it would leave poor Einin with some explaining to do with her parents once they realized her 'fiance' left without a word.