Secrets

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Salomé Nazaire

    Summer-sky Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: dergon

    Jewel Weaver
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    44 Posts    0 marks
Secrets
« on: January 01, 2019, 05:04:02 PM »

Salome had kept mostly to herself, ignoring the new door and the new woman that existed in her house. They had apparently always been there. Just hidden. A depth to Isidore’s deception Salome had not expected, but had taken rather better than the first surprise. A slow sweep of her lashes at this new change in her new life. After that, she had done her best to ignore it all.

Simple enough, she had outside work to do. Long hours spent weaving webs for infants. Hours or days old. Sometimes a few weeks. Rarely more than that. Most people were too anxious to know, to get the parting over. Some held out longer, hoping against hope. Salome rarely saw them, they chose others to weave their webs. Fully grown women with descents to their Jewel set. Salome ignored that too. Turned a cold shoulder to anything that did not please her. Heart hardening in the weeks and months that should have seen it grow warmer and more sympathetic.

Salome worked. She ignored. And she waited. She had followed the steps as closely as she could. Wife then woman. It was now safe for her to make her Offering, but she waited still. The priestesses spoke of a calling. So did many others. An instinctive knowing of when the time was right to face the Darkness once more. So Salome waited for that. And waited. And waited.

Isidore came. He went. Tait stayed. And so did her door. Salome pretended indifference and slept like a jealous guard at Isidore’s side whenever he was not somewhere else. Which was often. Still thick as thieves with his cousin. Still an actual thief, raiding the mainland and tending to his expansive business. Salome grew her own small circle of contacts, most back on her home island. Plenty on Thure willing to deal with the Captain’s wife.

And she waited until one late moontime put her off waiting any longer. There was no child in her womb, and no Jewel in her hand. Isidore had vanished without explanation. Too many long meetings with their bitch of a Mother Priestess for her to rest easy. So Salome gave up waiting, and she went. She spoke to no one but the priestess. A temple on a wind swept beach, carved naturally into the sea cliffs.

Nothing changed when she came home. She ignored the lower level of the house. Jewel a bundle that could have been anything from the shops. Except she slept on it. Unraveling it from its silk wrapping and curling over its cool warmth. Pressed tight to her empty womb as she sprawled. The thing done. Barriers calm now. Whole again after Eulalie’s assault on them. Everything forgotten but what she had achieved.

Isidore Nazaire

    Sapphire to Ebon-gray
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    Raider Captain
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
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Re: Secrets
« Reply #1 on: January 01, 2019, 07:27:48 PM »

Lately it seemed no one was very happy with Isidore. If he had been a different sort of man he might have been happy despite their annoyance. But he was a warlord prince, bound to their emotions as purely as he was bound to his own. Some of the complaints were easily fixed. Some he would rather watch fester. Or bloom. Dependent on the other party.

When it came to Salome he was waiting. Watching. Crafty little wife. Hurt by his secrets. Jaded already. It made him sorry. As sorry as he knew how to be, at least. That it would mend in time he was sure of, but how to speed up her emotional healing eluded him. His mother found it hilarious. Little Isidore, playing at husband when he was only now becoming a man.

She’d always been a callous bitch. Isidore thought he was doing just fine. If not quite love, his wives both seemed to enjoy his company. As long as he kept them mostly separated. Sometimes he liked to eat together. And watch their games of subtle cattiness.

There had been a lot of time away recently. So he expected some temper when he arrived home. A woman had needs. He had the responsibility to satisfy. Because she was first, and the future mother of his heirs, Salome was tended to first. Tait, he thought, was beginning to learn that he was worth the extra waiting.

While Salome was a greedy, wicked thing that liked to wring his heart out. Extract a bit of what she felt. He took it, and gave it. He wanted her to be happy. ”How are my loves?” He asked the old maid when he arrived home. There was no answer just the quiet duck of her old head as she took away his dirty boots. That was not a very promising reaction.

Something had changed. Probes coursing through the space he breathed it in. Pinpointing the difference. Following it up to his private quarters. To the very corner of his bed. Head tilted. He liked that she slept there when he was not home. Did she miss him?

Under her pillow a new pulse quickened. Psyche deeper than it had been when he left. Isidore mounted the bed. Pulling back her blankets as he crawled up. Knees and hands on either side of her body. Teeth flashing. ”You didn’t wait for me.” He should have been there! His wife! Alone on such an important occasion. Turning his nose to her neck he sniffed along her jaw and behind her ear. Trying to decide if he was more angry or proud.

Salomé Nazaire

    Summer-sky Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: dergon

    Jewel Weaver
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
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Re: Secrets
« Reply #2 on: January 01, 2019, 08:36:46 PM »

He was returned. Bed too well made to groan. Too well broken in to bounce, either. It dipped under his weight, blankets whispering over her body as he pulled them off her. No cool air to caress her skin. Just more warmth, this one wetter than the dry protection of the bedding. Salome did not roll over. Ignoring him instead as she came awake.

Ome’s hand tightened around her Jewel. Pressing knuckles and power into the hollow above her navel. This was hers. He could not take it. Claim it. Take credit for any point. Hers alone. The hem of her dress still wet from when she had walked through the surf to reach the temple. All night it had taken. The sun purple on the horizon when she’d gone in, then orange over the sea when she’d come out.

Slowly she turned her face from the pillow she’d buried it in. One eye opened just a sliver to peer at him. Not ready to see if she could read him any better with her new Jewel than she’d been able to with the old. Salome would have to use more mundane ways to gauge Isidore’s mood. ”Mm.” She mumbled at him sleepily, turning away from his nose. It tickled! Giggling, Ome raised a should up around her ear protectively.

”How long was I supposed to wait?” She challenged, shrugging away from he snuffling and tossing her hair. Salome stretched, easing her crampy grip on her Jewel. ”You didn’t say when you’d be back.” Drawing her elbows in, Ome turned under him, knees and hips seeing the lower half of her rolled between his thighs. She held herself up on her elbows, chin tipped back so she could look at him.

She let go. Vanishing it into her cabinet. Not ready to let him see it yet. Not anyone. It was hers, and she’d share it with no one.

Isidore Nazaire

    Sapphire to Ebon-gray
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

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Re: Secrets
« Reply #3 on: January 01, 2019, 09:27:44 PM »

Sea salt and old parchment. Isidore stole a taste. Tip of one curl dampened in his mouth. Those were not the things that made Ome feel different. Or strengthened her barriers so that they were like fogged glass instead of windows. Thoughts half secrets on the other side rather than his for the picking.

Body hard with possessive rage and tingling with pleasure for her laugh Isidore pressed his forehead to the space between her shoulder blades. Naughty wife. He got a mouth full of hair for his trouble. And a silly question. She took forever to turn. Giving Isidore time to sit up on his haunches. Heels touching his ass. Legs a temple over her hips. ”As long as it took.”

Ah she was so pretty. Thumb tracing her throat he cast a wavering smile on her brave little face. ”I’m never gone that long, my love.” She had done this to punish him. Isidore didn’t need to read her mind to figure it out. The Jewel she had taken from the Darkness stowed away. ”It isn’t that you did it without me. Or that you did it at all. It’s that I needed time to prepare myself for the change.”

How could he make her understand when it made him a hypocrite? All the changed rained on her sweet head. Forgoing the anger for now Isidore purred and settled his palm on one breast. Kneading gently. It was soothing, that supple softness. Long, eager nipple hardening against the center of his hand. ”Did you miss me, then? Since you need to lash out for my being gone?” Childish imp.

He was going to taste it. Like it or not. Leaning over her he touched nose to nose. Eyes drifting closed so he could work a sharp, precise probe against her barriers. ”All the way in.” He insisted, pressure slow so that she had time to give him what he wanted before he took it. Down, down to her Inner Web to pluck the strands and see which sang the song of her soul.

Salomé Nazaire

    Summer-sky Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: dergon

    Jewel Weaver
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
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Re: Secrets
« Reply #4 on: January 02, 2019, 04:12:01 AM »

Salome’s skin prickled at his touch. A line of gooseflesh rising in the wake of his thumb. He sat over her now. Perched on their bed like a sea hawk, beneath him, Salome was laid out like prey, well she knew. Could feel the subtle tension in her spine, not from her position, back arched, shoulder blades nearly touching, but from Isidore. He demanded everything and wanted more. Salome no longer felt the urge to give it to him so heedlessly.

”This time you were.” And she had beed done waiting. Knew people had mocked her behind her back. Thought her afraid to prove her own web wrong. Ome’s lashes fluttered, eyes drifting shut then opening again as her lips curved in a smile. She nearly laughed, and beneath that was a fierce need to claw his eyes from his face. ”Its hardly a change at all, Isidore. Or an unexpected one.” So. He had not wanted to actually be with her for the ceremony. It did not hurt, Ome promised herself.

Her Jewel was not for him. It was for her. His presence or desires did not matter in this thing. Lips pressing tight, Salome drew one thigh over the other. Flat nipple hardening under Isidore’s hand and sending sympathetic heat between her thighs. It made her angry, how easily he turned her body against her. Thighs ready to part for him. Arms straining to lift her breasts toward him. ”It had nothing to do with you.” It had not been the Darkness that summoned her to the temple, but Isidore did not need to know that.

It had not been about him. It had been about her. Salome. Not for missing her husband or abhorring her life. But because she had decided it was time. For her.

She thought he would kiss her, when he came close. Just his nose touched hers, however. No sweet greetings but more demands. The heaviness of his psyche pressed to hers. Salome felt it, poised against her barriers, and she wanted to deny him. Let him wait and guess and wonder. But how could she? He would come in anyway, first barrier halfway parted before Ome gave in. A sigh escaping her like a sob as she closed her eyes. Useless with him so close.

Closer still, on the inside. Salome’s hands gathered fistfuls of sheet. Purple Dusk like the sunset as she’d gone in to the temple. Tait’s hated Opal. And then Green. Green like sea water foaming at her ankles as she’d walked back up the steps of the temple. At high tide the sea came into the temple, leaving brine upon the altar. Salt spray on the chalice that held her Jewel when she had returned from the Darkness.

”Did you doubt me?” Salome wondered, words half spoken and half thought. Could he lie to her, this deep in her consciousness? Probably. He rarely opened half as much of himself up to her.

Isidore Nazaire

    Sapphire to Ebon-gray
  • Warlord Prince
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Re: Secrets
« Reply #5 on: January 02, 2019, 12:23:34 PM »

Eyes narrow with warning Isidore tisked lightly. Hand cupping the sweet curve of her neck. Thumb firm now in its stroking. Shoulders aching with the effort to be gentle. As gentle as his fickle instincts would allow. ”The parting of a hymen is hardly any change either. But it deepens the psyche, makes more potent the flavor of your womanhood. So too does the leap from Birthright to Offering. You taste different, wife.” He did not tell her that he didn’t like it. Darling wife, her sore heart would twist the meaning. It wasn’t the Jewel he disliked. It was returning to find things not as he had left them.

She didn’t understand. Still. Were there any men at all on Corlay? Plucking at the breast he had covered he leaned in. Whispering so that he did not scream. ”You are mine, Salome Nazaire. Everything you do, all your decisions, every single thought in your head- they all matter to me. Because you are a part of me now. That was in our vows.”

Between the lines if not outright said. He'd already forgotten the long drawn out promises. Later, later he would punish her back for punishing him. He had decided already not to take away from the glory of her victory. Squirming lower he tucked his ankles under her calves. Forehead dropping to her chest. Breathing steadied and mood too. Breast pet again because there was something infinitely soothing about the bud of her nipple tickling his palm. There was an urge to rip down her nightgown and take it in his mouth. Childishly rather than for the pleasures of man and wife.

He resisted that too. Only swirling his palm over the tightened flesh. Mind busy while his body was lax. Connecting more intimately with Salome than his spear in her tight cunt could have done. In, in, in she let him glide. That first moment of resistance forgiven because he thought she was just testing the new strength of her barriers against his probes. ”All the way my love.” He cooed at her. Relishing the submission as she did just that. Those precious Inner Webs he had so delicately protected on their wedding night sought out once again. Every strand lightly tweaked. Until he was sure the Jewel she had not wanted to show him was the one he had expected.

”No, never that.” He assured her, giving in now to his drive and shifting his cheek to her breast. Teeth plucking what his fingers had teased up through the light fabric covering her skin. ”This wasn’t about me. You’re right. It was your moment. Your choice. But it was one I wanted to stand by your side and witness.”

Not in the temple where he would have been forbidden. ”I want to mourn all of your losses with you, wife. I want to celebrate your every success. All the small moments in between. My work pulls me away already. Don’t push me away farther.” He stroked her scalp with blunt fingertips, and her nipple with his closed mouth. Hip held firmly down while he untangled their minds. Drinking in the difference of her scent. ”I asked if you missed me, and you didn’t answer.”

He was still hurt. The back of his heart bruised by her decision to keep him from sharing this moment he had been looking forward to. A Green for his Salome. It bode well for their sons and daughters. Strong, without being stronger than Isidore was. That was the safe ground he wanted his babies to walk.

Salomé Nazaire

    Summer-sky Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: dergon

    Jewel Weaver
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Re: Secrets
« Reply #6 on: January 02, 2019, 04:31:03 PM »

It would have been foolish not to be afraid. Pulse jumping as his fingers curled around her throat, cradling the delicate bones at the base of her skull. It would be easy for him to hurt her. To kneel on instead over her, or to press his thumb into her thready pulse. Salome was not afraid. ”Does it offend you? My taste?” Ome dared him. Had he expected her to wait forever? Surely her Offering was no great surprise. Even if he had missed it.

Salome arched into his hand. Arms pushing her breasts forward as they tried to fall toward her sides. Free beneath the loose shift she wore to bed. She turned her face to hear him, lips brushing his cheek. A shiver running down her spine, though Ome smiled against his temple. ”Yes. Mine and yours.” She kissed his hairline. She was not afraid. ”I am glad to hear they matter. That does not mean you get a say.” He had made plenty of decisions without her, after all.

Not afraid as he put his forehead to the hard bone between her breasts. And pressed a probe to her barriers. Stripping her down to the core. Inner Web deeper than it had been before. Still no match for even his Birthright, but she no longer felt like a shallow pool he merely dipped his toes in. Trembling, Ome gave in to him. All the way in. Aching like he’d set his spear to her unprepared. ”Good.” She would have hurt him if he had. Somehow. Gone home to her mother, or shredded his fine clothes.

Revenge forgotten with a cry. Salome tried to grab him. Fingers catching his shoulders. Calves caught between his ankles and thighs, pinned so she could not ring his waist with them. ”Isidore!” Nipple aching, Salome could not say if it was from pleasure or pain. It was so unfair, to torture her this way. Chastising her over her nipple. Lips and tongue forming words that were sweet to her heart and agony to her body. He ruined her victory so easily. Body desperate for him while Salome wanted to do exactly what he warned her from.

Push him away.

Instead she pulled him closer with nails in his shoulders, hips fighting his hand. ”I’m sorry.” Head tipping back so her tears could not fall. Barriers close now that he had retreated. Nothing of himself shared. Ome stroked his cheek and jaw, trying to tempt him into more suckling. ”Of course I missed you, Isidore.” She missed him every time and ignored that too.

Isidore Nazaire

    Sapphire to Ebon-gray
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

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Re: Secrets
« Reply #7 on: January 02, 2019, 06:03:46 PM »

Bold wife. Isidore’s fingers twitched. And itched to tighten. There was no sense in it. Challenging him that way. But she turned her sweet lips up to him and did it anyway. She was a child growing into her womanhood, he reminded himself. If he wanted to see all she would, could, become then he had to let these moments endear her to him. ”The taste is fine. That it was unfamiliar and in my bed…” Isidore flashed her a smile that was not kind or amused.

The sass did not stop there either. Threatening hands moved. That she started the words with a kiss did not make them less a blow. He would always have a say! If he had been a cruel sort of husband he could have forbidden the act done without him there. But he had never thought she would go without at least some warning. Fucking Salome. With a growl he moved on. Mind made up not to fight. There were easier, more amusing ways to correct her behavior. Wrapping the thoughts up with a bow he saved them for later.

”Salome.” He jeered, mocking her pained tone. Teeth nipping again but less roughly. Reminding her of what their union made them. Partners in life. The higher wife, the one who he could take pride in. Lady of his house. Mother of the sons who would follow in his footsteps.

They must have been the right words. Or maybe he had been gone longer than he thought. She dug her nails in farther. Turning warm and hungry. Petting along his face and all but shoving her tit into his mouth. He wet the cloth between them with the tip of his tongue but didn’t reward her apology or admission.

”I missed you too.” He laid his head on her chest again. Breast a pillow under his cheek. Hand still firm on her hip so that she didn’t work her legs free to grind against him. They had good sex, he and his little wife. Always so eager and excited. New to everything he wanted to try, not that there had been much time for exploring. Leaving her now for the other bedroom would make a very fitting punishment, though. ”I should tell Tait hello.” He sighed, eyes hungry for her reaction. ”All the says are mine in her room.” There was only so much choice as he wished to give his redheaded spinner. Tait was a decent fuck too. Lazily expectant, but she was growing to enjoy the submission. Maybe one day he could have them at the same time.

Tonight he had to make the choice. Or actually, Salome had to make the choice. Kissing her nipple again he rolled over to the middle of the bed instead of off the side. Body inviting Salome to follow without any words. Maybe now that she had reached for her power he should quiet her down with a child. Or one a year until she’d learned that Isidore was always in charge.

Salomé Nazaire

    Summer-sky Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: dergon

    Jewel Weaver
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    44 Posts    0 marks
Re: Secrets
« Reply #8 on: January 02, 2019, 07:02:24 PM »

The red hot heat left her feeling like a fever patient. Especially when Isidore washed it away. All the wanting and straining beneath him burning her bones hollow. Her heart too, scooped out and emptied. Her husband had missed her very much indeed. Salome took her hands away, gave him back his freedom. She did not know what to do with them once they were empty.

As empty as the rest of her. Her face was frozen. Color high in her cheeks from fleeing passion and growing shame. Wiping her hands on the curve of her waist, Salome forced a smile on to her lips. It felt brittle. Everything felt brittle. ”Yes. I suppose you do.” Tait had been waiting as well, hadn’t she? Salome wouldn’t know. She never spoke to her. She patted her husband’s shoulder.

”I’m very happy for you.” The words hurt to say. Hollow. They were lies. There was no happiness left in her at all. But she pretended. Ignored. And did not wait. Rolling as well, she caught the edge of the bed with one hand, and the rug her with her toes. Salome did not turn toward Isidore, but away. Robe gathered from the bedside chair and drawn over her shoulders, hair swept out from under its collar.

It made brushing her cheeks dry on the loose sleeves easy to hide. ”Have a good night, Isidore.” Salome did not look at him as she crossed the room. His room. She couldn’t stomach sharing one with him any longer. He was too cruel. ”Say hello to Tait for me.” Let them have each other. She didn’t even slam the door behind her, closing it softly and flipping the latch behind her. Because sometimes a woman needed privacy.

She hoped they choked on each other. A fist for her mouth and a comforting arm for her aching stomach. Ome pressed it all in so she did not scream or vomit. She had her Green, and enough marks of her own to buy a small house. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere hers, where all the says were Ome’s.

Isidore Nazaire

    Sapphire to Ebon-gray
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

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Re: Secrets
« Reply #9 on: January 02, 2019, 09:25:17 PM »
Laughter chasing her heels into the other room Isidore watched Salome slink away. She pouted like a child! Spoiled brat. He suspected she was waiting, to see if he would skulk into her bed to apologize. That was not an option. Not a precedence he would set for either of his women. He could not reward her behavior anymore. This was going too far.

One day she would speak to him this way when the edge of his caste was too sharp. When his control was too short.

Much like it was getting to be in that moment. So he did what he said he would. Visited Tait. Who was well, if bored. Unchanged, and in exactly the same state he had left her in. Ten minutes later he let her go back to sleep. Stripped from his travel worn attire to more comfortable house clothes. Then shielded from sight and sound slipped into the wall separating their bedrooms.

Leaning against the rail of her bed, still shielded, he pulled a bag of chocolate dots from his cabinet. On the outside they had a crisp coating that cracked away. Snacking on a few he watched her curled figure. Wound up and wounded. It made his stomach hurt. She never listened. Everything had to be her way or she was displeased. They were very alike, he and his bratty wife.

”Hurts, doesn’t it Ome?” Shields falling away he held his bag of candy out in offering. ”I know. I know better than anyone. The crush of being disappointed with your situation. Feeling controlled. Manipulated until your not sure which choices were really yours and which you were led to make. Having the people you love use your heart as a weapon.”

The more his list grew the more he growled. Without asking or waiting for a reply he sat on the end of her bed. Muscular shoulders sagging and face frighteningly young when the light of the moon hid his exhaustion. ”We have to find a better way than this. You’re sassy and spoiled Salome. You need to feel in control, those are things I understand. But as much as I adore you I am still a warlord prince. I don’t want to break your spirit, or your heart. I just need you to bend on some things.”

Salomé Nazaire

    Summer-sky Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: dergon

    Jewel Weaver
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
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Re: Secrets
« Reply #10 on: January 02, 2019, 10:30:50 PM »

Salome moaned, already tense body spasming in fright. Her fingers pulled the blankets more tightly around her, face turning away from the chocolates. And Isidore. Her pillow was wet. Tears shed for all her knuckles had held back any sound. He was right. It did hurt. She felt like a shell. The little husks the butterflies left behind after their metamorphoses. She had been a girl once. Proud. Worthy. Now she was just an emptiness full of pain. Huddling beneath a blanket to hide from her husband. Who smelled of his other wife.

She had not doubted he would go. Ignored but was not blind to his fondness for the wife he had chosen himself. Ome had been the gift. Picked for him. No wonder he saw fit to inflict on her the same sort of pain he seemed to have suffered from others. If she replaced every sweet love word with hate, it all made perfect sense. Growling as he listed her litany of sins and punishments, Isidore sat on her bed, forcing Ome deeper into it. It was not a large bed to begin with. Her room small compared to his.

Like an after thought. Or a closet.

Or a prison cell.

Tucking her chin into her throat, Salome did not laugh. Or cry. Eyes dry for all they were bloodshot and aching. It was fitting. A physical manifestation of her inner pain. Like the knot in her stomach. Or the sick dread she felt. Worse was the absolute nothingness. She could not even summon her anger for his hypocrisy. Or horror for being asked to bend even more. To give and give and just accept. Tait. His secrets. His utter domination.

Bend more, Ome! Give more! Her apology for wounding him dismissed. Unaccepted. Not a moments remorse for the hurt he had caused her. The trust he had broken with his lying plots with his cousin. The glee in which he had spoken of Tait, his mouth still warming Ome’s nipple. Salome shuddered. ”Okay.” What did it matter? She had given him everything already. Spoken her vows. Kept them. This one thing she had done for herself. For control over her life with had spiral so far out of it, veered so painfully off course.

He had everything he wanted. She had taken this one thing that was supposed to be hers anyway... and he had shamed her for it. And then cut her to the very core. ”I’m sorry.” Salome called it in. It just fit in her hand, fingers stretching to keep from dropping it. Eyes still staring blindly at the wall, she handed it to him over the rise of her hip. Her Green falling from nerveless fingers. ”Here you go. I didn’t mean to keep it from you, Prince Nazaire.” He’d been her prince once, before he’d ripped her heart from her chest and spit on it.

She had felt so safe before. Terrified. Excited. But safe. Isidore had protected her. Now Salome had to protect herself. His shields were no longer at her disposal. Or his courtesy. She curled into a tighter ball. Unable to see a way that would have them both happy. But at least she could save herself from anymore pain like this. She would just have to bend and pray she didn’t break. She didn’t really need her Green. Or her pride. Or her heart. Happiness was overrated, her mother had always said so.

”I hope Tait’s well. I’m sorry, I’m still so tired.” The descent long and hard. And for nothing. Ome closed her eyes, rolling until her face was smothered by the pillow and her thighs and arms hard rocks to hold her stomach still. ”I don’t have anything else to give today.”

Isidore Nazaire

    Sapphire to Ebon-gray
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

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Re: Secrets
« Reply #11 on: January 03, 2019, 12:10:50 AM »

Isidore inhaled then swallowed a frustrated laugh. Candy vanishing so that he could tear his fingers through his hair instead. Both hands dragging through the strands. Salome’s vanity and ignorance would be the death of them both. One driven crazy by it, the other caught in his burnout. Why did she have to make everything so complicated? Take every word out of his mouth as a personal insult?

As with most of the relationships in his life he didn’t know what he was doing wrong anymore. Drowning in a tide of failure that he couldn’t find the spout to. ”Salome,” He started as she apologized again. Heart beating fast in his chest as she dropped her new Jewel onto his leg. Hurt and anger battled in his chest. The way she said his name as if they were strangers.

Why did they all hate him in the end? What was his flaw? The defect that kept pushing them away? He didn’t have to wonder for long. He knew. It was Eulalie. Putting secrets in his mouth, drawing on the service he had trained a lifetime for. Those were the kinds of things that put a rift between a man and other people. When you couldn’t reveal any of yourself to the people you wanted to love. Because it would cost them their lives.

”Stop it. I never said it was mine, I don’t want to take anything away from you Salome.” As badly as he wanted to pick her up and shake her into seeing his way Isidore knew it wouldn’t work. A thick weave of compulsion spells would. But she was his wife. He had made vows to her. They had had so much fun in the beginning!

Wife! Mother Night he could have slapped her for curling away from him. Taking up the extra inch of bed she gave up he traced his hand over her spine. Heartache so potent it stained his skin. It wasn’t fair. He had not chosen any of this for any of them. ”Don’t give then. Come here and take.” Gentle on her arms he pulled her up from her ball of agony.

It was exhausting. The descent. No matter how it was made, or how deep it went. Where you started or where it ended. Reaching for the depth of your power was a trial of the soul. Pulling at her he settled lower on the mattress. Until she was laid against his chest. Hair brushed from both their faces by the palm of his hand. ”Tell me what you need, wife.” What promises could he make to heal some of what had broken between them?

Holding her Green up to the light he stared at the depth of color in its center. Instead of pressing it back into her hand he slipped his Ebon-gray from around his neck and placed it in her palm. ”Do you feel how heavy it is? The weight of the whole world bears down on that Jewel. And I have to put it on and wear it every single day. Because if Eulalie saw it drained, or me without it she would kill me just for daring to exist.”

Salome’s Jewel was warm and pulsed with life while his felt cold to the touch. As if it would suck everything out of the room. A vortex straight down into the Abyss. ”She made me wait a year for it, then hated me for daring to reach so far into the Abyss. I wanted it so bad for those twelve months the inside of my skull would itch until I cried. Numb. Hollow. I was just a tool and she made sure I knew it. On the mainland they have things to cure that though, light your passion on fire so you don’t feel so dead. The problem is once you start its so hard to stop. To remember how to feel alive without the help.”

Salomé Nazaire

    Summer-sky Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: dergon

    Jewel Weaver
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    44 Posts    0 marks
Re: Secrets
« Reply #12 on: January 03, 2019, 06:45:38 AM »

But he did. He took everything from her. Salome had given him all she had of value. Her name. Her body. Her heart. Why not start with the tangible, now? Her Jewels. Her wealth. Maybe once she had absolutely nothing he would be content. Isidore said he did not want it, but he didn’t give it back, either. Isidore, Salome knew, was a liar.

She flinched at his touch. Bed groaning beneath his weight as he followed her to the corner. ”Don’t.” The plea a croak of terror. He would stir her body to arousal again and then she would be too stupid with lust to deny him. She’d open her body for him, hand over her Summer-sky and set her soul on fire at his command. But she felt nothing but the warmth of a hand through the blanket. Her desire did not stir, and her skin did not prickle.

That wasn’t enough for Isidore. He pulled her from the bed, too. Salome fought him, too weak to do more than twist in his arms, but twist she did. It was useless. Isidore settled her where he wanted her, laying Ome across his chest and smoothing away her hair, which stuck to the salt of her tears. ”Nothing.” Everything she had asked for, he had refused. He’d married Tait and kept his secrets.

So Ome had compromised. No Tait in their bed. Had earned Eulalie’s ire and secrets of her own in regards to his cousin, so she had let his pass. And Isidore had brought Tait into their bed. Not a physical presence, but as proof that he thought of her when he was Salome. Compared them to each other. And found Salome wanting. Too headstrong. Spoiled and sassy he called her. Promising that he understood and did not want to break her. But Isidore did not keep promises because he was a liar.

He put his Jewel in her hands. Fingers twitching around it, Salome looked at the dark weight in her palms. She did not want it. ”I’m sorry.” Salome did not understand. She thought to ask, but Isidore was so reticent about his cousin. That Eulalie would hurt him had never crossed her mind. Forgetting that anyone could. That anyone would want to besides herself. Guilty of using his heart as a weapon to help her feel more balanced in her marriage.

Now she felt like nothing in anything. And Isidore talked on about his pain. And shed light on his constant travel. On the mainland he was happy. Alive like he could not be here. She would never be right, or enough. His pleasure and happiness lay in places Salome could not go. In Tait he had a measure here of it on Paon, because she was from the mainland. And in Tait’s room, Isidore was lord. Ome was too poorly behaved. The pride she had thought matched his nicely really a thorn he could not bear.

”I’m sorry she did that to you, Isidore. But you have it now.” Salome pressed the Ebon-grey back on him. Ignoring her Green. ”And you can go to the mainland whenever you like.” To be alive. Salome could find comfort in none of it. Must she submit completely for him to be pleased with her? To have absolutely no say in her life? There was no foothold in any of it for her own happiness.  He would never be happy with her. Parts of him yearning for somewhere, something, someone else.

They had started out so well. She wondered if it had all been a lie, or if she had just asked for too much. Expected too much. She understood now, her mother’s warnings. Why her parents lived in separate wings of the house. Like business partners in their marriage instead of lovers. Loving got you hurt. Left you aching in empty while in the place you always enjoyed being. She felt like a toy, or a burden, in Isidore’s lap. Just another thing in his life that tortured him.

”I’m sorry.” Sorry for both of them. She was so stupid. Knees drawn up until she was curled in on herself in his lap as she had been in the bed. Holding on tight to herself, Salome pressed her face into her knees and sobbed. So, so stupid. Too stupid to hold it in. Rattling her bones and bruising her cheeks with the violence of it. She wished he would go away so she could be miserable and worthless alone, instead witnessing it. Would he laugh about it later? Whispering it to the people who actually made him happy?

Isidore Nazaire

    Sapphire to Ebon-gray
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    Raider Captain
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    142 Posts    2367 marks
Re: Secrets
« Reply #13 on: January 03, 2019, 01:18:50 PM »

Salome tried to wriggle away. Even at her best Isidore was stronger. He had Craft to hold bucking, screaming mainlanders still while he pulled them from their hiding places. That was what she reminded him of just then. The girls he dragged out from under beds or kitchen cabinets or old tree stumps. Any place they could find cover. Desperate to get away.

If there was any closeness left between them it shattered against his spine.

Sighing at her rejection Isidore held her tighter. Nothing. There was nothing he could do or give to make her hate him less. He set his probes on the barriers she had strengthened with her Offering. Spying through them without pressing to see if it was true. The same heartache she had been nursing for months. Now betrayal. Stomach clenching hot with disappointment he pulled half back to the physical plane.

Tried talking but words were nothing. Even if he stood up now and threw Tait into the sea Salome would be unhappy. She wanted this pain and would see it no other way. Milking the confrontation rather than trying to connect. He knew it would be that way. It was always that way with the people he loved. Or wanted to love. As he examined his own heart he wasn’t sure he did love Salome. Not very long ago it had seemed such an untouchable truth. Did he he know how to love anyone really? You probably had to be loved to know what love felt like… all he felt was swollen and picked apart. Maybe he didn’t have a heart at all.

That would make the burning behind his eyes harder to explain. Suddenly Isidore felt exhausted. Not from his recent trip to the mainland and all the insanity it had included. This was an unexpected heart soreness. He was tired of being the villain. All of the time. Everywhere he turned. To all of the people that mattered. Taking back his Ebon-gray he laid the Green on the bed beside them since she wouldn’t hold the thing.

From the day the Darkness put the Sapphire in his hand life had been a monotonous cycle of distrust and crushed hopes. All that pain! Beaten until he could kill a man without moving a finger! Trained to be merciless- vicious- a monster! Then admonished for it by the people that violence was meant to support and protect! Those few friends he had struggled to make growing up slaughtered to prove his loyalty to service. Every second of it worthwhile because it was for Mother Priestess. Surely she had to love him. She loved everyone on the islands, it was why they called her mother! But Eulalie had taken one disinterested look at him and decided he needed to grow into his role before reaching into the Abyss. Warlord Princes were unpredictable, after all.

Some days he suspected his whole life was a string of cunningly crafted punishments. She could have always known, through communion or webs, what Isidore would be. And Eulalie would be so amused by his suffering. ”You have yours now too. And you can come and go whenever you like.” Since she was so unhappy here. He wished he had kept his mouth shut instead of splitting open old wounds in a feeble attempt to seem personable. He didn’t regret saying what he had said in their bed though. Better to see this side of his wife, to know for sure he was barred from her heart. Their last few arguments had left him unsure.

Now he knew. Cunt deep. That was how far their love always went. Once that place was satisfied they had not use for him. From Eulie down to Charis who was happy for his money but wouldn’t have cared if he never showed up again. Tait who was easily bought but could never love him. Salome who had started sobbing on his chest. Apologizing when he knew the only thing she was sorry for was herself.

Head dropping back against the headboard of her bed he held her even though she wanted nothing to do with him. There was nothing left to say. His mouth opened anyway. ”Well don’t feel too bad, girl. It’s always the same. Everyone wants the warlord prince until he acts like a warlord prince. I’m used to being hated.”

He could have killed her for it. Hands so close to her throat. Ebon-gray fueled enough for an easy snap of the neck. But from the second the idea had entered his mind Salome was his. Before he had seen her face or enjoyed her laughter. Mother Night had crafted him for love. He had not prayed for his caste or asked to be what he was! Eulalie had given him a narrow choice: marry the woman she had chosen or the one he had picked for himself would die. Then Salome had given him another: deny Tait or lose her trust. He felt like a boy in a leaky boat on a big ocean. Nothing to bail the water with but his hands.

When Salome had calmed some he asked again, ”Tell me what you need.” He couldn’t let her run home to her parents. It would humiliate him. He had worked too hard for his reputation. But he didn’t want her to suffer the way he did either.

Salomé Nazaire

    Summer-sky Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: dergon

    Jewel Weaver
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    44 Posts    0 marks
Re: Secrets
« Reply #14 on: January 04, 2019, 10:34:58 PM »

She was almost driven to pity. His words strumming memories from their last fight. When he had returned from the temple frustrated enough to send the sofa through the balcony doors out into the sea. It had been different then. That time they had found solace in each other. Sex easing hurts and soothing tempers. There would be no sex now. And no real sympathy. Just a ghost of a feeling. Isidore wanted more, and he wanted elsewhere.

Eyebrows puckering, she nearly soothed until her stomach sickened. She could not even argue that no one hated him, because in that moment Ome did. The hurt he had caused to deep and painful for her to not. He had stripped away her pride, shamed her for her pettiness, and wedged another woman between them. Salome kept thinking about them together. Insecurities preyed on until Ome could not find her way free of the doubts.

Salome did not reassure him. She did not lie, or comfort. Merely slipped an arm around his neck ro steady her body as she cried. Trying to expel the poison through tears. But it was too thick in her blood stream. She hated him. Hated the way he took everything. The way he hurt her. The way he was never sorry for her and only sorry for himself. The tears did not help. The hurt and the hate stayed, but they exhausted her. No more fight left in her. Weaker even than her anger, which had never rose in her defense. Too far beaten by her pain.

”Sleep. Isidore, I just need sleep.” Limp with it already. Speech slow and slurred. She also needed a husband who loved her, but Salome could not ask him for that. A person could not love you on command. And he did not. He couldn’t when he didn’t even like or care for her. She eased away from his chest, curling on the mattress and clutching her pillow tight. She had gotten what she wanted. She did not share her husband, because no part of him was hers.

”She can’t want you dead, Isi.” Ome told him as he was leaving. He had seemed so bitter when speaking of Eulalie’s hatred. ”She would not need your Ebon-grey drained to do it.” Not with the Black. Warriors training or not. Nothing could withstand that much power.

 

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