Intercourse

Faerie tales from beyond the veil to the streets of RhyDin

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Intercourse

Post by JewellRavenlock »

Friday, 28 June 2013

“You’re dying your hair?” Ishmerai asked, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, holding a baguette in one hand and some fresh cheese in the other.

“Uh-huh,” she replied. She couldn’t quite look at him because her head was bent over the bathtub and the water was running. Reddish colored water filled the bottom of the tub in addition to spraying the sides, looking quite like fresh blood splatters.

“Why not just... ugh. Never mind.” She could just hear him stomp away into the other room. He returned moments later, holding out a towel to her. She rinsed her hair one more time before tossing her head back, spraying him with water in the process, and accepting the towel from him.

“What do you think?” She asked, grinning as she stood, wringing out her hair.

“It looks very red.”

“Well yeah.” She seemed to be waiting for something more than that.

“Why’d you do it?”

“For my Hydra team. Duh! You said I had to get ready.”

He stared at her long-sufferingly. “This is not quite what I had in mind.”

“Whatever. A good fighter must look the part, Ishmerai. Besides, it will boost team morale!”

“As your less than stellar fighting skills sink their chances of winning,” he retorted. She scowled, tossing the towel, now also red from dye residue, at him as he laughed at her.
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Post by JewellRavenlock »

Saturday, 29 June 2013

“So, should I be calling you Jewell again?” She had barely walked in the door after a morning spent at the radio station and an afternoon spent eating corn dogs when Ishmerai accosted her with his question.

She blushed a little and laughed as she slid off her shoes. “Oh, you listened to it?”

“Of course. After you told me your mad scheme, I thought it best to see what damage you might cause.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically at his serious tone, walking over to take a seat next to him. “And, what did you think?”

“I think you enjoy making a spectacle of yourself.”

“A spectacle? Come now, Ishmerai, be reasonable. I thought I was very tame.”

“And incredibly silly.”

Jewell shrugged. “That’s just who I am. I am not confined here by the rules of court etiquette, you know. I can do whatever I want. No rivals to outshine. No courtiers’ favor to win.”

“Yes, yes. I know. You are free to be as ridiculous as you want, and somehow people love you all the more for it despite what a headache it is for me.”

She gave a sympathetic little pat to his knee; “Poor dear.”

He ignored the gesture. “So what do you think the general reaction will be?” He was still all business. “Am I going to have to be scaring people off from pinching your behind?”

She laughed. “Generally positive, I hope. But I suppose we’ll see if I inspire any mob action with my return. Maybe a rabid group of fans waiting outside the hotel to glory in my presence? Or perhaps we’ll get some forgotten enemies out for some long awaited revenge. Who knows.”

“Lovely, Mira,” he chose to stick with the nickname he had given her as she had never answered his original question. “How do you manage to be such a general security nightmare for me?”

She grinned. “It’s a special talent of mine.”
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Post by JewellRavenlock »

Friday, 7 July 2013

“What the hell?” Ishmerai exclaimed when Jewell came out of the Annex, holding a bloody wad of tissues to her face.

“Iron wound,” she explained shortly, breezing past him, assuming he would step-in at her side as usual.

“You let someone duel you with iron?” He asked incredulously, keeping pace with her.

“I already know how stupid that was.”

“Foolish girl. You could have been killed, even inside those warded rings.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Ishmerai; I’m better at it than you are. Besides, the wound really isn’t that bad.” She brushed it off as if it were nothing, but she was feeling fairly ill.

He frowned at her, noting the bloodless color of her face. Taking her arm gently, he let her lean on him. “Right. Nothing at all.” He tsk’d at her. “Even your resistance to iron isn’t that great, Miss Jewell.”
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Tuesday, 9 July 2013

“Why are we shopping for nets?” Ishmerai asked, clearly puzzled as he followed Jewell through a store down by the docks. She kept picking up nets of different sizes, putting them down after appraising them for a moment.

“Because Tara and I ran out.” She held up one made of very thick rope and with huge holes in it. She shook her head, mumbling something before putting it back down.

“Yes, so you said. But what is it that you need the nets for?”

She stole a sideways glance at Ishmerai before returning her gaze to the net she had in her hands currently. She explained quite casually: “Oh, you know, catching men. Playing games. Things like that.”

He just stared at her. RhyDin was bringing out a side of his lady he had not fully seen before. “Woman, you have clearly gone mad.”

She grinned, holding the perfect man-catching net up to him with both her hands to make sure a person couldn’t wiggle out of it somehow. “I know. Isn’t it fun?”
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Post by JewellRavenlock »

Thursday, 11 July 2013

“Look! Look!” Jewell came dancing into Ishmerai’s room, which he used more as a study than anything else, holding aloft the golden scepter the courier had just delivered to her. The accompanying note had been left on the table by the door.

Ishmerai looked up from the paperwork he was completing—trying to purchase the house Jewell so desired—and stared a bit blankly. “What is that and where did you get it?”

“This is the weapon of the new squire of Old Temple!”

“Did they send it to the wrong person then?” He asked dryly.

“No!” She shook the scepter at him a bit crossly. “I told you already! Kalamere made me his squire.”

“So you get a shiny gold scepter?” He rubbed the space between his eyebrows as if he had a headache coming on. “And it glows. Mother of Nature, this is so going straight to your head, isn’t it?”

“Yep!” She agreed without shame. “I get to duel with it tonight.” She took a swing with the glowing scepter, promptly smashing a nearby lamp with a glorious CRASH! Showing no repentance at all, she started to laugh.
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Post by JewellRavenlock »

Saturday, 13 July 2013

Ishmerai had watched a dark-haired pirate stroll out of the Inn just minutes before, after having observed the same man sing his way into the Inn some time earlier, so he was not entirely surprised to find his lady making an appearance soon afterwards; he had a hunch, after all, who the man might have been. He watched Jewell step out of the Inn looking extremely flustered, conflicting emotions fighting for dominance to be expressed on her face. As soon as she was free of the public eye on the porch, however, sorrow clearly won out over all. Ishmerai stepped forward from against the tree he liked to lean upon and opened his arms to her.

Jewell practically flew down the steps, crashing into him with as much force as her poor, strained body could muster; Ishmerai didn’t even flinch. Her hands clung to him as she buried her face into his shirt. Tears were not far behind.

Ishmerai wrapped one arm firmly around her, his free hand coming up to stroke her scarlet hair. “Shhh Mira, everything will be just fine, I promise.”

“It wasn’t supposed to hurt so much to see him, Merai! Why does it hurt so much?” Yes, she had felt extremely happy at the sight of Stephen; but sorrow, regret, and many other emotions had overwhelmed her in the end.

He shook his head. How could he possibly have an answer for her? “That was Stephen then, Mira?” She nodded, her face now wrinkling and soaking his shirt with her tears. Ishmerai sighed, drawing them into the shadow of the tree outside the Inn for privacy. He was perhaps the only one Jewell had truly confided in when she was in Faerie; all those years before they met, she kept Stephen—her entire life in RhyDin, really—a secret in her heart. But Ishmerai knew. He knew how much that man had meant to her before. He knew that only the children could have completely torn her away from him as had happened. He spoke softly to her, talking into her hair: “What did you expect, Mira? You know you gave your heart to him freely and completely at the time.”

She tilted her tearstained face up to look at him. “It’s been so very long for me, Merai. I thought maybe I wouldn’t care so much. I shouldn’t really care so much. I had put all of this behind me. But seeing him... the touch of his hand...” She groaned, thumping her head against him again, her voice muffled by his shirt, “I am truly pathetic.”

“Nonsense, Mira.” He stroked her back a little.

“I swore to myself that this would not happen. I swore I would be indifferent, friendly at best. But he was kissing those other women! And those were my kisses, Merai. They were supposed to be for me.”

He couldn’t help it; she sounded so truly indignant that he laughed at her. Taking her chin in his hand, he tiled her face up to look at him again. His smile was not unkind. “Is that really so, Mira? And have you not given many kisses away to other men since you left? Broken a thousand hearts in Faerie?”

She flushed, looking aside. “Merai, don’t exaggerate.”

He laughed again, stepping back to settle both his hands on her shoulders. He watched her a moment, her grey eyes staring at nothing, before asking more seriously, “Did he scorn you, Mira?”

She shook her head from side to side, a little smile creeping up on her lips. She looked up to Ishmerai once more, “No. He promised to see me again.”

“Of course he did.” He made it sound like the most natural thing in the world. He spun her around a bit then, draping his arm over her shoulder as he directed his steps towards their current home. Matching his pace, she tucked herself in at his side quite naturally. They walked in companionable silence for some minutes this way before he heard her sigh. “What is it, Mira?”

“He was even more handsome than I remembered.” Ishmerai just shook his head, giving her shoulders a little squeeze.
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Post by JewellRavenlock »

Sunday, 14 July 2013

Ishmerai woke up early with the sun, stretching as he went into the common room of the suite he and Jewell were living in at the RhyDin Imperial Hotel. He planned on getting a few things done this morning before his lady awoke and required his attention. Therefore, he stopped short with surprise at finding her already sitting at the small breakfast table, fully dressed for the day, and staring dreamily out the window with a cup of tea clasped between her hands.

Oh no. The situation was much worse than he thought the night before. “Good morning,” he said quite loudly, moving towards the side-bar to pour himself a cup of coffee; his eyes were on her.

“Hmm?” Jewell turned to look at him and then smiled as she snapped back to the here and now. “Oh. Good morning, Ishmerai. Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough,” he spoke in measured tones, walking over to take the seat across from her. He was eyeing her almost suspiciously now. “How did you sleep, m’lady?”

She shrugged a little, playing with her teacup. “I didn’t really.”

“Too much on your mind?” He asked a bit archly.

She thought for a minute before nodding slowly, “I suppose you could say that.”

He frowned. This was much worse than he realized the night before. He had assumed she had just been overcome by her emotions at seeing Stephen after such a long time, letting her mind run a bit wild for a time before she returned to her senses. He got right to the point with her; “Jewell, you can absolutely not be in love with that man. He is married again, to someone else, or have you forgotten?”

She rolled her eyes, slouching back in her chair as she looked at him. “No Ishmerai, I have not forgotten,” her words were a bit clipped, her tone a bit peevish. “What makes you think I’m in love with him anyways? Because I’m not.”

“Well good.”

“That doesn’t mean I still don’t love him though.” She smirked at the confusion that quickly colored his features.

“I thought you swore off love.”

She shook her head. “That would be foolish indeed. I swore off marriage and sole commitment.”

It was his turn to shake his head. “I think you need to stay away from him, Mira. It will do you no good. Do as you meant to in Faerie and forget him.”

Jewell frowned, staring down into her teacup. The sad, regretful smile she had offered to Stephen last night graced her lips once more. “That just may not be possible, Ishmerai. I have tried, you know. And you are forgetting one very important thing.”

“Which is?”

“Stephen knows my name.”
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Post by JewellRavenlock »

Sunday, 14 July 2013—Evening

They hadn’t been on speaking terms all day, but when Jewell stumbled out of the Outback with melting ice pressed against her cheek and misery written all over her face, she instantly went to Ishmerai. “We need to go drinking,” she stated outright.

He waved his hand in front of his face as she breathed right into it. “It smells like you’ve already done some drinking. And,” he pointed to her feet, “you’ve lost your shoes.”

She shrugged. These were minor details really. “I want to go drinking,” she repeated.

“Yes yes. I heard you the first time.” She really was impossible sometimes he thought as he draped his arm over her shoulders and guided her to the nearest watering hole that wasn’t the Dragon.

Jewell was two more drinks in before she started to get really chatty. “I don’t care what you and Tara say, you know.”

Ishmerai, still nursing his first drink, raised his brows at her. “What did Tara say?”

“She said, ‘Stay away from Stephen, Jewellsie. Let him go.’” She tried to imitate the red-head, but she really just sounded like herself.

“I suppose I should reprise my opinion of this Tara of yours. She’s clearly not completely insane; you should listen to her.”

“But you don’t understand, Ishmerai.” She slammed her beer mug on the table, splashing the contents about. “I’m not doing anything wrong! It’s not like I lost him because I messed up or he really messed up. They,” she gestured wildly with the mug now losing more of her drink as she was somehow trying to indicate Faerie and the powers within those lands, “went and fucked with my life. Conventina,” she added many expletive adjectives to her name, “whose grave I made and then spit upon, ruined everything.”

“If I understand your history correctly, Mira,” Ishmerai interrupted quite calmly, “your relationship with Stephen was really at an end before Conventina involved herself in your life at all.”

“Wrong!” Jewell pointed at him. “I figured it out all for certain a long time ago, and you’re wrong. That bitch sent me—my own future fucking self—to come back and fuck with my mind. She pushed me to it, made sure I’d go and screw my relationship up with Stephen first. She made sure I was as alone and vulnerable as she could get me, frigid crafty snake, and then she struck! Struck at the heart of me.”

Ishmerai just listened silently now as Jewell worked herself up to basically shouting and possibly cursing more than he had ever heard her do before.

“They stole him from me, Merai. They stole him, they stole my children, and then they burnt my life to the ground.” She apparently ran out of steam at this point. Her mug went crashing to the table, quickly followed by her head buried in her arms. “And no matter what I do, I just can’t seem to get any of it back.”
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Post by JewellRavenlock »

Monday, 15 July 2013

She was apparently allowed to sleep well into mid-morning, which was good because even when she awoke, long after the sun had risen, her head was pounding, her shoulder ached with the slightest movement, and her mouth tasted like it had been filled with cotton balls all night. “Blech,” she opened and closed her mouth a few times before reaching over and grabbing the glass of water Ishmerai had thoughtfully left at her bedside.

She had only taken a few sips before her knight peeked his head around the door. “How are you feeling this morning, princess?”

Jewell just groaned, letting her head fall with a smack against the headboard. That was a mistake; the pain re-doubled, making her groan again. “I think I got run-ed over. Make it go away!”

Ishmerai just grinned. “Your face looks like it a bit.” He stepped into the room and walked across it to take his seat at her side. “I must say, you have a very interesting way of being in love, Mira. I have never seen you like this before.”

“Like what?” She draped her hand over her eyes to block some of the light coming into the room. “Hung over?”

“No, you silly girl. In love.”

Another groan. “This is not me in love, stupid. And what are you talking about anyways? You’ve seen me in love.”

“No, m’lady, I most certainly have not. Smitten, maybe. Flirtatious, absolutely. But certainly not in love with any soul you have ever met in Faerie since I have met you.”

She snorted out a little laugh, “That’s because they’re all a bunch of dandies. Coxcombs, each and every one of them. Wouldn’t even bother with a second glance. Completely worthless.”

He feigned hurt, “Even me?”

“Especially you,” she answered with a grin.
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Monday, 15 July 2013—Evening

Ishmerai held the door of the suite open, giving Jewell quite the disapproving look as she waltz right past him with a smug look on her face. Kicking her shoes off, uncaring of where they landed, she sat on the small love seat in the room. She folded her hands primly in her lap and her posture was impeccable as she looked at Ishmerai expectantly, apparently awaiting whatever lecture he had in mind for her.

He closed the door slowly behind her before turning and just looking at her, refusing to breach the distance between them. This was not easy for him, even after all these years of knowing her. He had been trained as a proper Knight of the Courts of Faerie. He had served his first lady loyally: he did her every bidding; he stayed silently at her side, never once objecting to or offering his opinion on anything she had said or done; he had always maintained the proper amount of decorum in their relationship, always knowing his place. His entire life had been turned upside down by the little minx sitting in front of him. He was no longer a simple, humble Knight. He was at times closest friend, dearest confident, and adviser in matters both simple and dire (from what shoes she should wear today to how best to destroy her enemies utterly and fully). Jewell had broken down every barrier that was supposed to exist between them, but Ishmerai was still loathe to take advantage of the intimacy of their relationship at times. This was one of those times.

Jewell finally grew tired of waiting and lost that picture-perfect posture as she slouched back on the couch. “Please, just spit it out already, Merai. I have had a very long day, which ended quite nicely if you must know. But I suspect you already know that,” he only nodded his head a touch to confirm her suspicions, “and are simply waiting to ruin it. So, out with it.”

His tone was both formal and grave, “I do not wish to ruin your evening.”

“I apologize. That was an unjust accusation. I realize you would not intentionally do so.”

He nodded again, accepting her apology. “It would give me great pleasure to believe that a certain amount of happiness was within your reach again, Mira. You know this. I do not begrudge you any happiness that you may find. I know few people more deserving of it then you.”

“But?” She knew there was a ‘but’ in there somewhere.

“But, I believe you are making a mistake. I do not see this leading to happiness, simply more heartache for you. Must I continue to watch you suffer time and again?”

Jewell sighed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes a minute. She kept them closed at first when she started speaking again, “I do not know where this will lead me, Ishmerai.” She lifted her head, grey eyes meeting his. “I don’t. I just know that it feels so right right now.”

“What about his wife, Jewell?”

She groaned, letting her head fall back again. “I don’t know.” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration, wincing a little as she touched the part of her skull that had hit the mat in the Outback. “But you know,” she looked at him again, “Stephen was mine first.” She offered this childish argument with just a hint of defiance to her voice.

He made a sound of disgust, throwing his hands up. “You are infuriating.”

As Ishmerai stalked towards his own room, apparently unable to handle any more of her nonsense for the night, she couldn’t help but push him a little further. “Wait, you don’t want to hear about our kiss?” He slammed the door as his answer. Jewell just sighed, laying her head back down on the couch. “I am a terrible person.”
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Wednesday, 17 July 2013

It was near midnight when Jewell came out of the Inn pushing, of all things, a magical gurney created by none other than herself. On it lay a girl name Lesinda, who looked like she might be dead. Jewell didn’t really seem to care too much as she gave the gurney a little push, letting it wheel itself down to the other side of the porch, bumping the railing before rolling to a stop; the Faerie collapsed onto the porch swing, looking up only to find Ishmerai practically standing right in front of her. “Oh, evening Merai.”

He frowned at her for a moment in silence. “Do you realize how difficult you make my life?”

She scoffed, “Nonsense. Whatever are you talking about?”

Ishmerai spoke slowly, trying to let the words sink into her occasionally thick skull: “There were gunshots earlier, I could feel you blatantly using your glamour, a giant man storms out furious about something, and then I have to wait over an hour for you to come out pushing that!” He was picking up speed by the time he pointed to the gurney. “With a girl looking half-dead on it no less! And your arm is bruised.” He looked closer, “Quite badly, actually.”

“You could have come inside, you know,” she said quite calmly.

“Oh no. I am under your strict instructions not to intervene unless specifically asked, but that is what I am speaking of. How can you ask that of me, Mira, and then go dashing headlong into trouble? This,” he pointed to her black and purple arm, “is not supposed to happen. I am failing you, but you are making me do so.”

Jewell scowled a little; this was quite the guilt trip. “This is not anything new, Merai.”

He just sighed because clearly she was right. “It was different in Faerie.”

“Of course it was. But this is where we live now and this is how I like to do things. If it makes you feel any better, you are welcome to come inside the Inn whenever I am here, but I still wish you to refrain from stepping into my affairs unless asked.”

“I frankly do not know which is worse. Outside imagining what is going on but unable to intervene or inside, seeing what is going on but still unable to intervene.”

She shrugged. “That is your choice, dear. I warned you when I met you I was trouble.”

“No. You said, ‘I am a little bit of a free spirit, Ishmerai. I hope you do not mind.’ That is hardly a sufficient warning or apt description for you,” he smiled a little as he said this and she just smirked, caught in her lie. “Now, should we be expecting big and ugly to come back any time soon to finish you off?”

“Mmmm,” she shook her head. “Probably not tonight. But he will be back.”

“And what, may I ask, did you do to piss that man off?”

She looked offended that he would presume it was all her fault. Sitting up straight, she stated: “I will have you know that my hands are entirely clean in this case. That barbarian is the one that killed Skyler, and I have yet to settle that account as I intend to.”

“Right.” Ishmerai knew that story and thought it best to leave the discussion of what to do with Tommy to another time. “And what the hell are you doing with that?” He pointed to the gurney.

Jewell waved her hand. “Waiting for Issy. Gotta dump the body somewhere.”

Ishmerai looked up at top of the porch. “Mother of Nature help me.”
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Thursday, 18 July 2013

“Thank you for seeing her here safely, Lady Judge. I am sorry if this has caused you trouble in any way,” Ishmerai thanked Issy upon her delivery to the hotel suite of a somewhat intoxicated, bloody and bruised Jewell. He took over from there, cringing at what a mess she looked: Stephen had set her nose all right, and it would certainly heal properly on its own, but at the moment it looked terribly bruised and swollen. He helped her to the love seat, brushing her hair out of her face tenderly. “You are a mess.”

Jewell groaned in return, “I feel absolutely terrible.”

“I am sure. What would possess you to drink so much after breaking your nose, you silly girl? That alone would make you dizzy and nauseous.”

She closed her eyes to stop the world from spinning; she absolutely would not have made it home without Issy to lean on. “I noticed.”

“Are you going to be sick?” She shook her head ever so slightly. “Good. I’m going to get you cleaned up and then we can get you into bed.” She murmured something about bed and sleep as he left the room, returning with a bowl of warm water, some towels, and a jar of a salve she had insisted on buying the first week they were in RhyDin. Ishmerai started to work with the water and towels first, gently cleaning the blood from her face and wherever else she got it: neck, arms, hands. He encouraged her to speak to him quietly as he worked, “I hope your dueling opponent looks much worse.”

“Maybe,” she took one of the towels from him, clumsily washing her hands off. He watched her for a moment before taking the towel back from her and completing the task much more thoroughly; Jewell was too tired to object. “I brained him pretty good with the scepter, and possibly blew out one of his knees.”

“Why did he hit you in the face so hard?”

“Jealous probably.”

“Of course. Did Issy tend to you at the Inn? She is a very good friend to you, Mira.”

“Absolute best there is,” Jewell agreed. “But she wasn’t the only one there. Stephen fixed my nose.”

It was the first time she had mentioned his name to Ishmerai that evening, and Ishmerai waited a moment for more information that was not forthcoming. He therefore felt the need to prompt her a little: “And how was Stephen this evening?” Clearly there was more behind this amount of drinking than even some severe pain; he had known her to weather worse injuries with no assistance at all.

“I don’t care,” she mumbled stubbornly at first, turning her head away from him.

“Mira,” he whispered softly, tilting her chin back gently so that she faced him again in order to allow him to apply the salve to her face. It quickly mixed with her tears, however.

“What if he’s just playing with me, Merai?” She tried to sniff, but it was all the more pathetic because her nose was still quite swollen. “There was this girl there tonight, and she called him ‘brother.’ Did he just think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t notice how he stumbled over how to introduce me to her? ‘Jewell Ravenlock.’ So distant, like I’m just some girl that doesn’t mean anything.”

He wiped her tears away with care, reapplying the salve to her face. He even snuck some onto the nasty bruise Tommy had left on her arm to help that heal faster as well. “Mira, you are only going to get hurt this way.”

She shook her head, turning it away from him again. “I’m already hurt, Merai.”
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Friday, 19 July 2013

“Are you planning on dueling this evening?” Ishmerai asked, noting that Jewell had her scepter in hand as she got ready to depart.

“I think so. I just want to get my last one in for the week so I can collapse afterwards.” She slid on her sandals; it was a day for thin cotton dresses and bare feet really. Ishmerai was staring at her a bit oddly when she looked up. “What?” she asked self-consciously. “I know my hair looks messy, but it’s just so very hot out. And don’t tell me my face looks horrible; I am not going to hide it behind glamour. These bruises were earned.”

“No no. None of that. It’s just,” he paused, pressing his lips together a moment looking for all the world like he was trying not to laugh, “are you going to wear those?”

She touched the Audrey-esque sunglasses. “Well.. they do hide the majority of the bruising, so yeah. Why?”

He just shook his head, chuckling a little now. “I just think you look ridiculous wearing them at night.”

She smacked his chest as hard as she could, which really wasn’t very hard at all, as she walked by him. “Whatever. I’m a trendsetter.”
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Monday, 22 July 2013

“It was just so weird.”

“Uhuh, why is that?” Ishmerai flipped a page of the book he was reading, not even looking down at the woman laying on the couch next to him.

Jewell stared at the ceiling, her mind elsewhere. “Because... it’s Lain! We’re not supposed to get along.”

“Those quarrels are long over I thought.”

“Well yeah. It just seems weird to get along with Alex’s wife.” She made a face. It was weird to say that out loud; for how many years had that expression belonged to her and her only?

“You care about Alex, right?”

“I guess. I mean, I haven’t seen him in forever. But he’s still Alex.”

Ishmerai still didn’t once look at her, eyes locked on his book. “Then it’s not really surprising at all. You care about Alex in some way. Alex clearly cares about Lain. Therefore, you care about Lain in some way because Alex cares about her.”

She arched her neck back to look at him. “You over-simplify everything.”

He reached down and pat her head, but he continued to read. He let a few minutes of silence pass between them before he just had to point out: “You owe her now for fixing your face, you know.”

Jewell groaned, covering her healed face with her arms. “I think I’d rather just break my nose again.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Post by JewellRavenlock »

Sunday, 28 July 2013

“Wait wait!” Ishmerai laughed, halting Jewell mid-story. “He was just asking you for a duel and you said what?”

Jewell grinned. She was sitting facing Ishmerai over their breakfast table in the hotel suite. It would only be a few more days before they moved into the house in Old Temple, but the pouring rain was preventing either of them from desiring to stir out of doors and accomplish anything. Instead, they were eating a late breakfast together as Jewell regaled him with her account of dueling the night before. “Well, he didn’t exactly ask. I told you, this kid has a few screws loose. He just points to people and says things like, ‘You are an acceptable opponent’ and then he just stares.”

“Okay, so he said something like that to you?”

“Uhuh.”

“And you said...”

She burst out laughing before she could even explain. “I told him to stop stalking me, and then I tried to let him down easy; kid clearly has a crush on me or something, always pestering me for duels and all.”

Ishmerai shook his head, his own laughter tame in comparison to his companion’s. “Why? Why didn’t you just say no?”

Jewell shrugged. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee. “Then what happened?”

“Then it got crazy. He wanted to duel me and then go on a date or something afterwards. I told him we just really weren’t right for each other. He didn’t take that well at all,” she shook her head sadly. “So he wanted to duel someone else to prove his emotions for me! It would have all been very romantic if he wasn’t nuts.”

“Did anyone take him up on his offer?”

“Yep! This poor guy, Gren, who I had just really met a few minutes earlier. He stepped in to defend my honor or offer me his protection, something like that. Very courtly behavior, just like you. Basically saved my life, or at least got my out of a totally wacky date.” She took a bite of her toast and, with her mouth full, added, “If this rain stops, we should probably go buy flowers for his grave or something, or at least make sure the kid didn’t actually kill him.”

“Unbelievable. This poor man had to step in because you just couldn’t say no when offered a duel?”

“When you put it that way, Merai, it sounds so...” she waved her half-eaten toast at him, trying to think of the word.

“Heartless?”

“I was going to say boring.”
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