A Certain Type of Ass

Description:

Keen Hawthorne

    Summer-sky to Green
  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
A Certain Type of Ass
« on: February 22, 2018, 09:25:20 AM »

Leave it to the landens, his paw had always said. Keen had never understood that reasoning. He liked horses much as the next man (who liked horses), and he was even reasonably good with them. But the landens were a tricky bunch to live amidst. Tender about the ego, and shy around Jewels. So Keen left the horseshoes to the landens, but kept the horses for himself.

Not that he ever encroached on another farriers territory. Well. Not often anyway. He couldn't help that he got bored staying too long in one place.

Today it was the big stable in Niwlen. Great big plodder's hoof tucked between his knees. The beast kept trying to sit on Keen's shoulder, weight shifting, ass leaning down on him. Grunting, he paused in his filing, jerked his shoulder and gave the plower a bit of a bite with his Green. Just a small nip to get him to stand up straight.

"Manners, lad, manners." Keen grunted, running his file over the hoof again, smoothing cracks and nicks. Rounding the toe so it would stand up better to work without needing a shoe. Shoes were expensive after all. "I don't care its your day off, you still gotta do your own standing." A head whipped around, soft muzzle and blunt teeth smacking into a shield.

Keen grinned, shoulders twitching as he chuckled.

"Surprise! Been spending too much time with them landens my boy." Forgot that old Hawthorne didn't stand for being bit. He swapped file for pick, digging in around the frog. Making sure everything was healthy and flat. No surprises or buried stones. Digging out a bit of packed in horse shit when he heard it. Or smelled or sensed or something.

Flicking the manure away, he looked over his shoulder, smirking.

"Well hello there."



Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #1 on: February 22, 2018, 11:06:10 AM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

Bending at the waist Emory tugged her fallen sock back up around her knee.  Hair waterfalling down her back and draping her shoulders. Nearly blending in with the dark wool cloak that guarded her shoulders from the chill. Caleb had been right- the snow had not held out much longer than their expected guests arrival.

Powdery snowflakes slowly drifted down to coat the graying grass and dirt lanes of Grayhaven. Maybe this time it would stick. Emory liked the snow. Sledding, ice skating, and Winsol in the air! Winter was a fine time. At least until the worst storms rolled overhead. Dumping drifts deep enough to confine her to the house. Much as she loved her brothers, they could stifle a woman. Pigeonhole her as the child of the family, the littlest Ardelia. In need of much fussing and attention.

A little was always nice. But the repercussions were deeper than she would burden them to know. She worked hard! Spent most of her time and energy playing secretary and diplomat. Used her Craft and castes to think of new ways forward for Dena Nehele. All of that was easily forgotten though, when she was jammed between the two that did the muscle work.

With the house full of queens and visitors of import, she was feeling even more overlooked than usual. Underestimated, even. So she took full advantage of the tolerable weather. A few hours out of the house. To her second favorite place in all the world- the stables. Wide open beams for web weaving, and the best sort of attention.

At the doorway she stopped again, leaning down to lift the same troublesome sock. The thick wool was just too heavy to stay up now that her knees were less knobby. Her sigh turned into a laugh as she watched a sassy old workhorse snort in frustration at his failed mischief.

The farrier shot a grin over his shoulder. He was... not the usual old man. Emory gave a small smile back. ”Hello. Getting a bit of sass today I see.” She glided over to the front of the horse. Pale hands smoothing over his velvety nose. Fuzzy lips working at the flavor of salt on her skin. ”Are you causing trouble today?” She crooned at the horse. His ears twitching down then forward again. One round brown eye turning to keep her in sight.

Keen Hawthorne

    Summer-sky to Green
  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #2 on: February 22, 2018, 06:07:21 PM »

He chuckled, watching from over his shoulder as she strode up to the horse. Stroking the the beast's whiskers down. Taking the old boy's mind of laying his teeth into Keen's hide. It was appreciated. Too bad it didn't keep him from trying to sit down again.

"We're just getting acquainted, is all." Jerking a shoulder, Keen shifted the horse again. Pretty ladies with treatless hands didn't make him anymore a foot stool than empty barns did. Brushing the last of the dirt and shavings away from the hoof in his hands, Keen set it down gently. Standing, he wiped his own hands clean and turned around to get a proper look at his visitor.

Surely she hadn't come to the stables just to see the horses.

"You're old man Caleb's sister, aren't you?" Her name escaped him at the moment. He was sure they'd met before. Or at least, he thought they'd met before. Not recently though. He patted the fuzzy rump, vanishing his hoofpick. "Emory." That was it. The girl with a boy's name, he remembered now. Keen looked her over, a critical glance, judging every grown inch of her.

"You didn't have that Opal last time I saw you." Still not sure when that was, but she'd only had a Summer-sky then. Same Birthright as himself. Soft probes trying to get a sense of her and her caste... castes. Plural. not sure if that was something else he should remember. At least she was a bit less knobby now. A little less knocking joints and more girl.

Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #3 on: February 22, 2018, 10:21:57 PM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

The gelding sniffed at her eagerly. Wide nostrils whisking by her wrists, muzzle lipping at her elbows. Puzzling her out. Trying to decide if she was worth the continued attention. Emory peeked between his ears when his head lowered. Probes and curiosity politely reigned in. Eyes far less considerate.

Sweeping over the back bent to his work. Strange that he seemed taller than she remembered. Shouldn’t she have grown? At least a bit? Maybe it was an overestimation, since he wasn’t standing straight.

Fingers rubbing the fur around the horse’s ears she nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her over the animal. ”I don’t know that he’s old, but he is my brother.” Emory knew this prince, too. About as well as he seemed to know her. Not even an acquaintanceship. She knew him because she knew all the dark jeweled residents of the territory. Coming around the side of the horse as the prince finished she tucked her hands behind her back. Head tilted slightly to meet his eyes. ”Prince Hawthorne.”

Possessive hands clasped over the Opal around her neck. Hung on a silver chain and set in a decorative circle of sunbeams. ”Oh?” She wasn’t sure why he would pay attention to her Jewels. She knew what he wore, of course... it was her business to know. Someone had to whisper details along threads to Caleb. He couldn’t be expected to remember everyone.

Sometimes she saw him, of course. Prince Hawthorne. That happened in a place like Dena Nehele. Only so many places to go. Only so many people to meet. But she hadn’t expected him to remember her any. ”It’s still... new.”

And a touchy subject. At least at her parent’s house. Done without thinking, they had fussed and moaned. Even her brothers unsure she had not been too hasty. Emory knew. It had been time. The Opal was her fate, not a mistake of rushing in. She had already mastered its limits and used it over her Birthright for weaving. Her barriers shivered at the curious probes. Few were so bold. Not with the baby Ardelia. ”Find what you’re looking for?” She asked, eyes flashing with... not really anger. Sass. In exchange for his boldness. She hadn’t gone probing him for hints!

Keen Hawthorne

    Summer-sky to Green
  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #4 on: February 25, 2018, 06:29:44 AM »

”No, I suppose he ain’t.” Seemed he ought be, though, with a territory to run. Keen always figured that sort of business was left to the wizened. ”It’s meant respectfully, of course.” The cant of his lips suggested not, but those were almost kissing fetlock. Maybe half so. He was Dena Nehele’s old man.

”Keen works too, your ladyship.” It was his turn to lean. Elbow propped over an equine hip, hand catching a swishing tail as Keen watched her link fingers around her Jewel. Oh, she said, which made him grin. Acted as if she’d stolen the thing, or he was about to. But she was a priestess, maybe she had.

”Yes, oh.” He taunted. ”It suits.” It did too, in its pretty silver setting. A pretty Jewel for a pretty girl. His own lived beneath his shirt, in the same setting it had been given in. Nothing much to his taste, but he’d never had much interest in jewelry so what did he know. Hell, he’d worn his Summer-sky on a string until he’d grown into the ring it had been set it.

It still fit, too, on his smallest finger.

There was a bit of sass under his probes. Emotions too distant for him to recognize. Or too deep for him to know. But her Jewel didn’t feel too new. She felt right comfortable and confident under his prodding. Keen smirked.

”Oh some. Just a passing curiosity.” A wolf’s smile when its wiggled in among the sheep. He winked at her, not at all ashamed for being found, or called, out. ”You can have a go too, if you’d like.” He’d even soften the outer most barrier for her. Seemed polite enough. Not that there was ever much floating about there of interest. Nothing that couldn’t be read on his face anyway.

Belatedly, Keen let go of the tail, which gave one last offended twitch before stilling. No more trying to slap him in the face like a fly. Chuckling he slapped dust from the rump he leaned on.

”Never met a grumpier plow horse in all my days. What are you feeding him?” It had to be her fault of course. This Emory. It always was girls cooking up mischief with the horses.

Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #5 on: February 25, 2018, 12:13:12 PM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

”Of course.” Emory agreed with sarcasm. Doubting very much those lips had ever done anything respectful. Not the sort of thought she was commonly given to, startling herself by having it. Left foot shifting its balance from heel to toe she shrugged lightly. Caleb was more than capable of defending himself, and in a better position to do it than she was. ”He’s been called better by people with worse intents; and vice versa.”

An unusual name, she thought. ”Prince Keen, then.” She compromised. Well versed in the games of subtle give and take. The sort of thing a girl learned young with warlord princes for brothers. He had come in closer now. Resting on the horse’s rump. Calm as anything with that terrible grin on his face.

”It, um, gets the job done.” She answered, finding her usual tenacity harder to command. It was the prince, she decide. All cock sure and crowding. Not the way boys usually behaved. Not towards Emory. He hadn’t stuttered once!

Then again, there didn’t seem much of the boy left in him did there?

Blue eyes flicking under her lashes as they swept him again. No. Not much boy left at all. Maybe the tiniest bit, there in the corner of his smirk. Attention flitting from one part of his face to another as he dismissed the question. Winking at her even! What did that mean? For a flash of a second her eyes widened. Did he like it then? Whatever his probes had found.

They did sometimes. Like what they found under the shell of her castes. That hint of vulnerability girls couldn’t quite mask. Men like Prince Prentice that got all droopy eyed at her virginity. Her chin lifted as if he had made some sort of challenge. Even if his eyes didn’t get dusky. He distracted her again.

Bottom lip vanishing between her teeth Emory almost accepted the invitation. The Black Widow in her was always eager to have a little look. Tempting, tempting. A second too late to pretend she hadn’t considered it, Emory shook her head. ”I know what I need to know about you, prince.” Or at least she thought so.

Naive of him, she also thought, even if his Descent was darker. She touched at her own Opal again. Not quite the Green she had hoped for. Enough, though. She would make it be enough.

Face turning towards the horse she laid a hand on the short fur defensively. ”He’s not grumpy! He just knows what he likes, and what he doesn’t like.” Her fingertips scratched at the hide, dirt working under her nails. ”I’m not sure what they feed him. Probably the same all the rest of the horses get.” He wasn’t her horse, after all. Not even a favorite if she were honest. His back to broad for comfortable riding. Not that Emory got to do much of that.

Keen Hawthorne

    Summer-sky to Green
  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #6 on: February 25, 2018, 10:38:04 PM »

”I’m sure he has, poor old man.” He was laughing. Only just polite enough not to do it out loud. But his eyes were bright. Too bright for such dark quarters. Very much a little sister, this one. Poor girl. All up the back in defense of her brothers.

”That hardly sounds any better!” He laughed, giving the horse a good slap on the rear. Prince Keen, really. Hawthorne ran better that way. Ah, well. ”Whatever you like then, ladyship.” He shrugged with a smile. It was of no consequence. He’d been called all sorts of things in his short life. She could pick what she liked best and he’d answer to it.

”You sure it does?” She didn’t seem terribly certain. Poor thing. Probably still growing into it. Keen couldn’t remember how old she was. Younger than her brothers. Old enough for an Offering, but still blushing. On the inside, for all cheeks remained cool. Eyes going a bit wide. His grin stretched.

Sassy slip of a girl.

”Uh huh,” he drawled. Small knife appearing so he could clean the dirt out from under his nails. She thought she did, he was sure. But she wasn’t. Kissing at her own lips. Keen slipped his arm down, elbows tucked, shoulder against the horse’s hip. He flicked a glance at her, up from his grimy fingers. Wondered what she was thinking about. Grin never quite slipping.

”Oh, aye. And he doesn’t like much, does he!” He laughed again, switching knife for rag and standing on his own two feet. When he was done, he held it out to her. Waving it a bit at her own collection of horse born filth. ”He done. And he was the last.” He wasn’t touching the riding horses. Not without a proper invitation to do the work.

”Want to help put him back? Seems to like you more.” Geldings. They were like warlord princes. Always after the ladies. Needy git. ”We can feed him some of what everyone else is eating.”

Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #7 on: February 26, 2018, 01:19:10 AM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

Emory suddenly had several ideas of choice things to call this fellow. None included prince, or either of his intriguing names. ”Sounds better than ladyship.” She huffed, knowing full well she hadn’t invited him to call her anything else. Smirking, shrugging, strange man. Protocol existed for a reason! To keep situations, just like this one, from turning awkward.

He seemed determined to do the exact opposite. Taunting her like some schoolboy. ”It does!” She tried to insist. Letting go of the necklace to smooth the drape of her skirts. Settling herself before she started looking the foolish child. Emory didn’t wear shame or embarrassment well. And she didn’t do frazzled, either!

Not usually.

He was just very... oh she didn’t know! He was still standing there. Talking to her with that grin on his face. As if he knew secret things about Emory. Things she must not have known either. Nothing she could think of deserved that look.

Or the way he dragged out his dubious agreement. Making her think twice. Thumb curling around the hem of her cloak. Looking for a loose thread or rough patch to fidget at. While he was preoccupied Emory took a more studious look. She didn’t think he had any sort of court training under his belt. Other things, surely, she scolded herself for thinking. A rustic sort of handsome without being crude. Not imperiously tall like Connie. Older than her. ‘A lot’ she was sure her brothers would say if she were of a mind to tell them.

She wasn’t.

He was different. Called her lady, but not with that blind adoration or timid reverence boys her own age did. He didn’t glance over her either, or dismiss her as a child allowed to sit at the adult table. He was just... talking to her. The way her brothers or Amora did.

Well, almost the same way. Keen must have thought he was something special. Smirking away. Bold as anything. Most men did, she heard, think they were the cream of the crop.

”Maybe he just doesn’t like you?” Who would blame him? Emory hadn’t decided yet if she did, or not. Even as she took the rag that held his lingering psychic impressions in the threads. Blunt nails easily freed of the grit they had collected. She scrapped them clean with the corner of his rag, working carefully around the blackened nail concealing her snake tooth.

Stepping aside she nodded, ”Hm, I guess I can help you with your job. I do as much for just about everyone else in the territory.” Usually with far less cheek. ”Stall or pasture?” Probably the latter, she reasoned. But if his work was done, the farrier would be leaving. And she wasn’t sure she was finished her turn at getting acquainted. Before the conversation could stall she gestured at the stable, ”You’re not the usual old timer that does this.”

Keen Hawthorne

    Summer-sky to Green
  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #8 on: February 26, 2018, 01:52:58 PM »

"You think?" The tip of his tongue tasted the corner of his mouth. Grin turning to smirk. "I thought it suited nicely." She seemed the sort to like it. All the implied power behind the title. The surface respect. Scraping, bowing. She was an Ardelia after all.

A fidgeting Ardelia. Keen supposed he could be gentler. More aloof. Proper and respectful as he probably ought to be. But he was so rarely that. Any of it. Knew it had once drove his mother to distraction until she’d just given up. That was alright though. She had Delsie to make into a proper lady seeing as her son was a lost cause.

”If you say. You didn’t seem as sure the first time.” The corners of his eyes crinkling as his smirking grin turned to something softer. It really was rude to tease a girl about her Jewels. Surely he’d flailed around in his Green for a couple years. Laughing again, as she mocked him. Hand to his chest as if mortally wounded.

”Such bold, crushing observation.” One eye narrower than the other. Brash girl. She had a wicked tongue on her. Someone was letting her get away with much too much. Insulting him and accepting his hanky all in one go. Spoiled child. With a snort, Keen stepped away, round the front to untie the gelding. ”Not my fault, lovey, if you’re overworked.” Loosing the leads, Keen did away with one and handed her the other.

”Pasture. He’s too big for a stall, that one.” Plus Keen himself had never liked tight spaces. He wasn’t about to stuff an overgrown pony in one. ”You lead, I’ll get the hay.” Not the best stock, but it was hard to come by. Expensive too. He pulled some from the feed room, no care for the chaff it left behind on his clothes.

”He’s just had a grandchild. Him and the wife have gone visiting.” He had a pretty daughter, that old coot. Keen had been disappointed when she’d settled down. ”Are you very bitter about all your helping?” He taunted, opening th gate for her and dumping the hay over the fence. Wondered if she actually did anything, or just thought she did.

Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #9 on: February 26, 2018, 03:27:08 PM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

”Not really,” She admitted, narrow shoulders rolling forward then back again. ”They both sound stuffy.”

Usually by this point in a conversation she was reassuring new acquaintances that her first name was fine. No need to go tacking titles on. Something about this one stilled her tongue. Maybe it had something to do with the way his own darted out to graze at the joint of his lips.

Or the way he challenged her answers. Playfully, she was pretty sure. No hints of veiled passive aggressiveness or haughty  the way some did. ”I was sure then- about my Opal.” She promised shifting into a more comfortable stance. Eyes only narrowing at him for the span of a breath. None too subtly implying that she might have uncertain about something else in the room. Like his smirking self.

”I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so delicate. I’ll be gentler going forward.” Emory said, head turning as if she were staring at the rafters to half hide her rolling eyes. The set of her mouth much kinder, the smile there promising she meant no harm.

And feared no consequences.

How could she? Aside from her parents few people had shown her any. And as a well generally well behaved young woman, there was never any need. Sweeping a dense hank of her loose hair over her shoulder Emory accepted the lead with an upturned palm. Looking at him through the shadow of her lashes. Certain he could only have been talking to the horse.

”I bet he fits fine when he has too.” Emory said softly, free hand slipping up to cradle the round equine jaw that settled on her shoulder. Poor old boy. Toil your whole life away plowing fields for such little appreciation. He, the horse that is, was as unmoved by her concern as he had been by Keen’s working to keep him in good shape. The heavy head quickly pressing into her bones. Lips pursed she tugged the cheekpiece of his halter. ”Come on then, you.”

Out from the warmer interior of the stable and into the gathering snow. It was dense enough now for her to hear it crunch beneath her boots. Listening to that as much as she listened to Keen’s short explanation. ”How nice for them! I bet his wife is quite pleased. My mother is always on the boys to settle down and give her a grandbaby or twenty.” She doubted Turning to back through the gate he opened Emory shook her head, gently tugging the lead rope to keep the horse moving.

”Not any, to be honest. I like composing letters better than Connie- Connor,” She corrected, ”or Caleb. And I’m better at soothing tempers than they are. Besides, no one is offering donations for temple construction around here. If I can’t indulge the full duties of my preferred caste, I might as well pull my weight in other ways.” She knew not everyone approved. Even her own mother wished Emory had returned home when her apprenticeships were done. Caught in that strange stage of life where she was capable enough to be useful, but too young to have any real experience.

And vulnerable, as her father had pointed out at every visit since she had made her Offering the year before. ”Do you like your work? I suppose you must. That Green could find plenty of other uses if you didn’t.” She asked and answered all in the same breath. She took her time untying the lead from the horses halter. Pushing the gate closed with craft as another, leaner, horse cantered over to inspect the hay. That one was given a few pets on the nose too, before Emory slipped back through the gate. Latch clicking into place quietly as she pulled it shut.

”Let me try again,” She said thoughtfully, leaning against the fence with a soft sigh. Mouth twisting as she tried to think of a better question. ”Are you from Niwlen? That’s rather boring too. I guess I’ve been sitting at too many formal dinners.” All these queens arriving, crowding the house with their Craftwork and planning. She liked it just as much as it suffocated her.

Keen Hawthorne

    Summer-sky to Green
  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #10 on: March 09, 2018, 10:40:59 PM »

”Can’t have that, can we?” Nothing worse for a girl of a certain age, being stuffy. Or even seeming it. Poor thing. Keen watched her, the way her shoulders shifted and her eyes flashed. She did a lot of talking with her body, this one.

Head tipped back, Keen laughed. Sassy little witch! His throat worked, tan from too much sun, except for the shadow under his chin which was lighter than the rest.

”That would be kind of you, your ladyship.” One last chuckle, Keen shook his head and tucked his teeth back behind his lips. Really, she was too much. Passed a little closer, maybe, than he needed to, when handing off the gelding. Watching her peek at him like some untried girl. A flutter of probes again, because he thought she might be just that.

”Most blokes do, when needed.” Crude, perhaps. But she made him! Talking that way. Exciting him with things that should not. Watched her deal with the horse from over the hay in his arms. The moment away helped calm some of his more wild fancies. Idle thoughts running away with him. He wasn’t the sort, and neither was she, he was certain.

”Not you though?” Her brothers were much older. Though Keen couldn’t admit to knowing any of their exact ages. ”I suppose a daughter is more precious than a couple extra boys. The missus was pleased, though, when I saw her. Even gave me a pie in her joy.” He’d ate it all in one sitting too. Best damn pie he’d ever tasted.

Keen settled against the fence. One boot propped on the bottom rail. Kept an eye on things as she turned to old boy loose. Rolled his eyes only a little at the scavenger horse who came up to investigate. Ready, should shields be needed. None were though. She handled them all like letters for her brother.

”Oh, eh? And what work would you put it to, my Green?” His Jewels didn’t make him ward of the Territory. He wasn’t a damn plow horse! Not that he was unwilling to work. Or plow. Keen came closer, to check the latch. It was his head if it came open and anyone got loose. It also let him hover a little. Get a better look at her. Hooking his arm over the top of the gate, Keen leaned with her.

”I think you have. I am not from Niwlen. But I am from Dena Nehele, if you’re afraid of outsiders.” Smirking, Keen dug his toe into the bottom of the gate. ”I also don’t write letters, soothe tempers or make temple donations.” He thought he liked trying to rile her up. Prissy Ardelia baby. He kicked back, both elbows on the gate, head tipped back so he could look down his nose at her.

”So what do you call fun, ladyship? Harassing unsuspecting farriers? Or are you here only to settle my bill?”

Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #11 on: March 10, 2018, 12:42:25 PM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

A strange sensation coursed the length of Emory’s spine. From the base of her skull down to the top of her tailbone. Tingling ripples that tied to the low parts o f her abdomen too. Mysterious strings being plucked.

It was his laugh; she knew right way it was the root. Not quite sure about anything else in the moment. Some trick in the way it flashed his teeth or worked the subtle knot of his adam’s apple. Neck muscles mesmerizing her as much as the sound. A bubble of gladness in her chest at having been the cause. Smirking, too pleased with herself to remember she didn’t like being called ladyship.

That smugness evaporated in the next instant. She tucked in close to the horse’s head. Blocking her own from having to watch him react as his probes read over her again. The banter must have warmed her up to him though. She let her outermost barriers open. No secrets there. A touch of amusement, tentative interest. That strange tingle and the not quite understanding it. The Not Secret of her virginity. Neither shamed or pleased. Just an accepted aspect of herself. Nothing common sense, his eyes, or a strong probe wouldn’t have picked up anyway.  And he was being gentle. Just interested. Just curious.

She was... a little curious too. Thin strand of her Opal returning the question. Not brushing his own barriers back, but trying the thread he tested her with. Wondering what he sought, why, and how he felt about it. So caught up in the questions she half missed what he said next.

Pressing a blushing cheek to the horse’s bony one when she thought Keen couldn’t see. Sure he hadn’t meant her to take it that way. Embarrassed it was the first place her mind went.

Thankfully they moved on quickly to talk she felt more confident in. Laughter short as she shook her head. Making her tuck her hair back over her shoulder again. ”Not me.” She was pretty sure her brothers were more precious each than she was. If, Mother Night forbid, anything ever happened to Caleb it would be Connor next in line. Their Jewels and caste outranking her own. ”Mothers hold onto their youngest the longest, I hear. Maybe they’ll let me grow up in a decade or two.”

She didn’t really mind. Let those expectations fall to someone else. She was more than ready to see both of her brothers with supportive women at their sides. (and have a slew of nieces to spoil) Not only for their happiness, but her own too. Another step towards real independence, when her hands would no longer need to stay close. The favorite for petting down tempers and worries.

”Weave more webs. Big as you are tall and twice as wide.” Emory admitted without hesitation. Eyes sparkling just a bit to imagine. That Green would put her lower in the Abyss too. Deeper in the Darkness. With religion such a sensitive subject in the territory she kept that bit to herself. There were other things, too, of course. It was a good question. A distracting one. Looking up to see he was suddenly standing much closer. She flushed around the ears and gripped at the fence tighter. ”There’s not really any way to tell what prospects one more descent would have opened in my life.”

Lips pursing she gave him a sarcastic nod, ”Terrified, clearly... with a house full of them.” She looked down the length of his long leg, drawn by the movement. Eyes flicking back up as her nose crinkled at him. ”What do you do, then? Other than eat pie.” She was enjoying this. The back and forth. It was dangerous, how easy going he was. Like a lure.

She was going to tell him this time, not to call her such a silly title. But her mouth snapped closed and her head cocked back instead. Judging him sharply as she floundered. Was he teasing? Or was she keeping him when he just wanted to be paid? Why should he want to stay here for Emory's amusement? Her idea of fun was simply being out of the house. Staring at animals. Suddenly she felt very small and stupid. As if she’d misread the whole conversation.

”Oh, um... Well, how much is the charge? I don’t know if I have enough marks. I was only here to see the horses.” She would go back up to the house for more. Send a hearth witch or a stable boy down with the balance. Tongue clicking at her own silliness. Cheeks hot with more strange emotions. Thick unpleasant ones that stuck to the back of her mouth and made her feel a bit raw.

Keen Hawthorne

    Summer-sky to Green
  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #12 on: March 11, 2018, 10:56:37 PM »

There. There it was. There she was. Barriers softening to his touch. Keen was careful. He didn’t want to know too much. Not really. Just curious about what she was hiding behind those walls. All that cool disdain. Somehow aloof and inviting.

He still looked though. Grinned as she slipped up along his thread. The skin between his shoulders itching. She was curious too. Interest, half hidden. Murky. His was sharp, quickly muted. No need to frighten her. But he could help the flashfire confirmation started.

Mother Night. The blushing.

”You’ll be a spinster then.” He taunted, eyes sweeping her body. Curious what sort of spinster she would make. There was a widow down south he saw sometimes. Spinster age except she’d had a husband and lost him. She was a good ride when a man wanted soft hips and full thighs. A bit bitter, but realistic.

Somehow he didn’t see that for Emory.

”Webs bigger than a man?” Keen chuckled. That was some fire there! Light in her eyes. Dreams pressing against her barriers, but he couldn’t reach those. Not without prying. So he remained ignorant, a smirk twisting his lips. ”Isn’t there?” Divinity? Weave a different future? Try his? He could have meant any of them, and he wondered which she’d pick if she had a choice.

”That many?” Eyebrows winging upward. He wouldn’t be able to stand it. But then he spent most of his time rambling along across the territory. ”Wrap a few up in one of your giant webs and roll them out.” Strangers in his space. But he didn’t have a space purely his own. What did he know? If the old man wanted a house full of outsiders, let him. Keen would keep his poor neglected sister company.

”Eat other things.” His shrug was casual enough, face turning away to investigate the equine head suddenly in his space. Hand roughing a round jaw, finger working up along an ear for a good rub. Keen almost missed it, how his joke soured. But she’d softened to him, so when he turned back he saw the blushing. All but felt the stutter. He frowned, draw away from the fence and closer.

Closer to Emory. One elbow still slung over the rail, should curving toward her. Keen bumped one of her hands with his. Back of it brushing her warm skin.

”Can’t say. Its between the old men.” He wasn’t ready for her to run yet. Maybe in a little while. The sky was threatening snow. Maybe then. For now he wanted her close. All he had to do was lean. There wasn’t anywhere for her to go with the fence at her back. ”You’re blush, girl.”

Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #13 on: March 12, 2018, 10:48:51 AM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

Emory wasn’t sure what to make of this man. Smiling at her as if she’d been caught up to no good. Unwavering with his carefully mastered probes. Her tentative hold not nearly enough to tell her what she had hoped to find out. Only hints of things that darted to the surface then were tucked away again. He was smiling though, still, so it couldn’t have been anything too terrible.

”If they have their way,” She had intended to make a lighthearted jest but her tone was lined with unexpected intensity. Not bitterness, but a hint of genuine anxiety. Sometimes people worried about silly fears. She was very good at accidentally running off nice boys. And her brothers were twice as good at doing it on purpose. Maybe she would be a spinster. Untouched forever. Some priestesses took vows of chastity, she heard, as penance or devotion to the Darkness.

She wasn’t sure she felt that bad about anything. Or quite that pious.

Definitely not while he was giving her that look. Lips tugged more to one side than the other. Grinning. Did he ever stop grinning? She hoped not. ”Yes. Between a pair of sturdy trees. Or a nice wide doorway.” They didn’t like when she wove in the house. At least not when her webs left the loom. So she chose trees to climb and weave between the branches. Stretching her Opal as far as it would go. A gentle, easy way to grow accustomed to the power of a new Jewel. The reason, most likely, she had mastered it so quickly. Her own smile was smaller, but more intense because her eyes narrowed in question. ”Not to know for certain.”

”More by the day it seems.” Though the influx had slowed with the snowfall. Laughing at his playful suggestion she gave widened her eyes and shrugged. ”That would go over well, I’m sure. Interterritorial incident of the decade.” At least all these ladies made slipping out easier. Slipping out without an escort shadowing every step, even. She had to share them now. Her brothers and the friends they used to set on her trail. Eventually Connor would notice. He always did. But she was fairly certain she could sweet talk Caleb out of fussing at her overmuch.

Emory take another look while his attention turned to the horse that nuzzled his arm. It was cold so their coats were thick. She was fairly certain he ate plenty enough, though. Seemed neither over skinny nor plump. Not that many in Dena Nehele were. He wore the Green. Twice as deep a pool as her Opal. If he was anything like Connor he probably did spend half his time eating to sustain it. Not quite so much or often as Caleb had to do with his Gray, though.

Eyebrows nearly touching over the bridge of her nose Emory shifted on the spot. Watched with darkening pupils as he scooted in closer. Made more unsure instead of less by the skimming of their hands. Her heart beat faster but she didn’t think she was afraid. Confused, surely, but she didn’t bow when he came closer. That was for creatures beneath her castes. Or something. She could still scream. Caleb’s shields would reach.

”Then I can’t settle anything.” What was this? What, what? Closer still. She stood up straighter, eyes threatening to challenge him if need be. Chin tilting up. But he wasn’t picking a fight. Didn’t rush her off either. ”So?” She blushed more at being confronted. ”What’s it to you if I blush?”

Keen Hawthorne

    Summer-sky to Green
  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #14 on: March 12, 2018, 11:46:01 PM »

”That would be shameful.” And a Darkness damned waste. She was a good looking girl. A bit snotty but sometimes ego made for a good time. They usually bucked harder when they were full up on themselves. Wanted to make sure you remembered them. And that you knew they’d forget you. Keen didn’t mind. It was all good fun.

Keen wondered, momentarily before he came to his senses, what sort of things a virgin girl got up to in bed.

Keen scoffed.

”Doorways? Trees!” He chuckled, eyebrows high. Almost laughing again, but then it would be too much laughing at her. ”Why not the stalls then?” He’d never seen a web woven on anything but a frame. Then again Keen had only seen a few finished webs. Tidy things all done up and completely lost on him. ”Not sure I’d like all that uncertainty, myself.” The girl was obviously crazy.

Keen licked his lips.

”Not if you do away with the evidence. Hogs’ll eat anything.” He smirked. No real qualms with outsiders. No real worries about incidences either. Not his mess to clean up. It was like accounts that needed settling. Keen’s work was for the usual farrier. The debt between the two of them. No need to bother the old man Ardelia. Or fret his pretty sister about it either.

”Then I wouldn’t worry about it.” Voice rough around the edges. A little knot of need forming in his stomach. She liked the way she reacted. Not cowering. Not fighting. But he could still taste that sweet virgin warning on her. Danger. A tricky thing. But she was bold as brass and twice as sassy. Keen had half a mind to spank her.

”Just curious what has so bothered, is all.” Hot too. That shade of pink had to be warm. Keen lounged. Half crowding. Almost but not quite pinning her to the fence. Not even close. She had plenty of room to flee. Or get closer. ”I don’t want to be upsetting her ladyship, after all.” He smirked more. Lips curved upward. Eyelid downward. ”Bad for business, you know.”

 

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