Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/Make Love, Not War
Cypreana looked down the list of the wounded at Arempos and screamed.
"Get me to him now!"
Upon which she and her men immediately pulled out of Ozrat.
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
Carefully he pulled the flap of the tent aside, squinting momentarily as his eyes adjusted to the change from the glaring bright sunlight outside. Moving slowly due to a slight limp Aerywyn bent to enter, yet due to the light behind him one could only see his silhouette. When it was dark again, his smile could be easily seen. His face was a bit pale, and he still wore a some chainmail over his tunic despite his wound.
“Good morrow, Cypreana…", Aerywyn said smoothly. "I was told you came to visit me when I was resting."
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
Cypreana leaped up and flung her arms around Aerywyn.
"Arry! I was so worried about you. How is your leg? You shouldn't be up and about. Come, sit here." Cypreana cleared a place for Aerywyn to sit down. "Now tell me what happened. I am just so glad to see you again."
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
Stiffening as her exuberance pushed him back a step onto his bad leg, Aerywyn couldn't help but smile and he quickly relaxed as she led him to a seat. He obediantly sat down, though not before he had tried to calm her down and answer her questions.
"I am fine, truly... the physicians reccomend a little movement, and it felt good enough for a bit of a walk."
He took slid a hand about her waist as they sat down, holding her hand in his, although there was a bit of sadness in his eyes at the memory.
"Suffice to say it is the business of war... and our unlucky little recconassaince group somehow found its way into an Ethialan army...", Aerywyn said, drifiting off at the end.
"But it eases my heart to know you are safe", he said smiling again.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
With the energy of the batte still pumping through him, Aerywyn had lifted a rather indignant Cypreana onto his shoulders, and now strode towards her tent. There was a mischievous glint to his eyes, and he was almost playing as if they were just little boys and girls. Eventually, after being beaten about the ears a bit, and threatening to drop her into the mud in return, Aerywyn was forced to finally put her down gently in front of the tent flap.
He slowed down and softened up, though there was still an infectious cheerfulness about him as he stood before her puffing slightly. Gently, he offered a hand and opened the entrance to the tent.
“Sorry, Lady Cyp… had to get rid of a little of that energy…”, Aerywyn said a little abashed. “Shall we?”.
I can't help myself, he thought. Hell, I must look a fool... yet...
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
Cypreana blushed, and silently entered the tent.
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
Being caught in the darkness once again, Aerywyn took hold of Cypreana from behind and softly kissed the nape of her neck. His breathing was infintely huskier now.
"Come then, lets wash off all this dirt..."
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
Sleep had always evaded him, at tonight had been no exception. For an hour had gone by as he lay silently, and not even the sleeping form beside him, her body rising and falling with every breath, her face serene and beautiful in the moonlight, not even that could help him sleep. He gave her a kiss, and could almost see a smile on her face. Sighing, Aerywyn disentangled himself from her arm and wearing only a loose pair of briggae, he wandered into the cool night air.
Eventually, barefoot, his feet had found their way out of the camp and to an outcrop a few miles away. Beneath it lay a ravine which ate the moonlight as wholly as a beast of blackest midnight. So he stopped his walking and lay there, staring at the starry sky. The rock was cold on his bare back, but he ignored it, searching for absolution.
His thoughts drifted to many things, but Aerywyn at some point or another thought of Cypreana, who he left behind beneath the warm furs in the tent. After a while he let the chaos within his mind subside and cascade into nothingness.
Then Aerywyn smiled.
It was starting to rain.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
He blinked.
Aerywyn looked very hard at the sky, trying to understand he had just seen. Thoughts ran wild, crashing into each other and causing fires to break out all over his mind, in one huge mental catastrophe.
"Bloody hell..."
The rain was getting heavier.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
The mist upon the moor kept them safe from the eyes of enemy scouts and from retribution, but as it hid each man from his companions, it began to isolate them in an eery manner. Whatever each rider’s personaly demons, Aerywyn suffered worst, and the others would remark upon the dawn that they heard strange sounds that nights journey.
The still mist played strange games with his mind, and to escape his childish fears Aerywyn hid deep within. Vau snorted as she felt her master upon her back, shivering uncontrollably. He saw shades moving within the fog, faceless creatures who emphasised the deafening silence of the place. Grasping what he could firmly, he wrapped his arms about his body and lay close to the mares head. Somehow he felt cold, despite the heavy clothes he wore. Yet he held fast to his courage, avoiding panic, and retreated farther into his mind…
He thought of many things, trying to focus on something. War did not do though, and neither did politics, for all the rhetoric aged and grew stale upon is tongue. When his thoughts strayed away from such concerns, he smiled, for he saw now Cypreana. Yet it was not long till the air perpetrated even those thoughts.
“Why didn’t I say goodbye…”, he said aloud, commenting on when he had left in the night a day ago.
“Is she worried… ah… maybe she doesn’t… does she know? Does she know that I…” Care.
“Gods… look at me…”, he whispered. “How can I defend… love… a woman when I can’t…”. His voice went from sudden shouting to trailing off.
Aerywyn felt his heart hang heavier with each passing thought and crumbling, and the sadness filling him made his face feel taut and his body aged like a weary and bitter old man. There was a point in his heart that agreed with his head, that the boy was being silly, but they both knew that the wisdom they had earned came at a price.
He would sleep soundly that night, the dreamless sleep of a tired man.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
For months now, the regions of Ethiala had been in decline, yet none had suffered so much as the city of Talex, and no where else was the devastation so clear. As well as the toll taken upon its citizens by famine and starvation, plague had emptied it of all life and even the bandits stayed away, leaving the town council to contemplate their fate. It was a shocking realisation that such devastation could happen even when there was peace.
From here and there, lean faces peered at the soldiers in the street, yet all was not so hopeless. Crowds had cheered as the Arcaean forces had come to the city, protecting the ox carts laden with food from any greedy hands. Even though they were supposed to be foreign soldiers, the warmth with which they were greeted was suprising, and the people were too weary to start anything aggressive towards the new presence anyway.
Aerywyn sighed, lines of exhaustion under his eyes as he contemplated the strange situation. The army had maintained a degree of discipline even without the watching eyes of the marshal, yet in a way it was good Richter wasn’t here. After taking up temporary residence in the lower levels of the keep, the army had gone about making sure there was order and distributing the food. He slumped into an old oaken throne by the hearth like a bored lad, running a hand along the worn grain of the arm. It was one of the few things that hadn’t been stolen, since it was too heavy to carry out of the main hall.
'Hope Remton got the orders… we need more shipments soon.'
He listened to the silence, devoid of the normal sounds of men drinking and the rich hearth crackling with the life of the fire. From the stables, he heard a single horse whinny.
Numbers weren’t nearly high enough to ensure that order was maintained in the abandoned parts of the city, which included most of it, but with friendly smiles and giving hands they were able to confirm the image the locals had of Arcaeans. Suddenly, Aerywyn remembered that he was trying to relax, not to think about what needed doing. Silently his thoughts drifted to Cyp… again.
Aerywyn grinned as he reminisced about the white of her neck and chest, her warm smile giving way to heavier breathing…
“Ah… ‘bout time I made an honest woman out of her…”, he mused softly to himself.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Madelena had just read the list of injured and dead. Tenal was injured but no one had been able to get through to any of his men who had been scattered to find out just how badly her love was.
"Ferdinand!" she called her long and trusted Captain. He appeared in her tent immediately. "It's Tenal." Tears were welling in her eyes. "He's been wounded." By now her hands were shaking as she held up the parchment containing this news to him. "Take two other men and try and find him and his men. They must be scattered somewhere in the woods surrounding the battlefield. Just be careful!"
"Trust me Milady. All will be well. We'll find him and his men for you," and Captain Ferdinand was gone.
"Scar!" This time it was the apothecary's turn to enter her tent.
"Yes Milady?" he was wiping blood off his hands.
"I need a report of how we are faring."
"Two dead Milady. Buried already. Can't risk disease you understand. Your idea of them having different symbolized pendants around their neck for identification helped in one case. I have eight injured. Not sure if some of them will make it but I am doing my best. Sarah's making a good nurse. No nonsense kind of girl," he added approvingly.
"You will need to make time for Tenal," interjected Madelena.
"The Count is coming here?" asked Scar.
"I don't know. I hope so. He is wounded. Ferdinand and some others have gone to look for him and his men. Who knows what they will find. I know I shall not sleep tonight until they get back."
"Then I suggest I give you something to sleep," responded Scar practically. Without sleep you cannot lead and your men are depending on you.
Madelena acquiesced. She was too fraught with nervous exhaustion to do otherwise.
Lady Madelena Rossini Imperial Magistrate of Arcaea
He had finally decided to follow through with it. The promise he made to himself.
Cypreana was sitting in a private study, away from the bustling crowds and high-spirited soldiers who seemed to flow over the near empty city. Many nights and days had seen him thinking about this, trying to find a logic, a reason, perhaps even a way to go about it, yet he knew that regardless of what he tried to say, it could not be denied. He pushed the door ajar silently as he was apt to, cringing though as the old hinges called out that someone was coming in.
Upon entering, Aerywyn was struck dumb by the sight of her, like a vision sitting by the window. She was as if one of the Aenil who had let her guard down away from mortal eyes, the radiance still there although overshadowed by the silent awe the scene’s divine stillness, rather than grandeur, inspired. Her raven hair shone resembling ribbons of silk, or like a river, her dark and gracious flow seen for but a moment in the sleepy moonlight.
She seemed to be so drawn into her reading that Aerywyn toyed with the idea of standing by the door, admiring her from this distance… perhaps it would give him time to come up with more metaphors and allegories about her. He tossed the thought away with a shake of his head, and with a silent breath out he made his way over. That his footsteps alerted her, he had no doubt, but he instead reached out to take one of the white flowers floating atop the water of the a earthen bowl.
It was a water lily, held delicately in the cusp of his hand. He smiled, admiring the beauty of its wet leaves, and he relaxed incredibly after breathing in its scent. His other hand was hidden from view, gently playing with the links of the necklace dangling from his fingers.
Cypreana was looking at him rather curiously by now, and Aerywyn could not help the laughter in his eyes.
“Do you like the flowers, m’dear?”, he asked quite simply.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
Cypreana had been completely engrossed in her book but she looked up at Aerywyn and her heart missed a beat. He had the most beautiful grin on his face and she felt such a strong stirring inside of herself.
"They are wonderful," was all she could say in response.
What she really wanted to do was fling her arms around him and kiss him but something made her sit there and wait...
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
For a moment he appeared lost in his thoughts, making a small sighing sound as if he were both relieved and happy. Gently he placed the lily back into the bowl, reluctantly as if saying goodbye to one of spring’s fair maidens. When he turned back to look at her properly, his hand closed about the necklace fully, hiding it from Cypreana’s searching eyes.
“Ah… Cypr-...”. Cursing inwardly, Aerywyn felt his confidence slip away as he realised what he would be asking. With significant effort, he tried to find the words he had planned so carefully…
“Lady Cypreana Rosinni… I have thought this through for many hours… gods, I wish I could but…”, he stammered, his voice riddled with unsurity and emotion.
His eyes strayed to the window, then back to the expectance that her tense, unmoving body bespoke. It occurred to him that perhaps even the simple manner in which he was approaching her (and stumbling) signalled his attentions louder and clearer than he was managing otherwise. Yet the words continued to escape his grasp. It was a surprise then when Aerywyn dropped to kneel before Cypreana, his head bowed as he pieced together the shattered fragments of his mind.
“My dear Cypreana… in exchange for… my love, my mind, my strength, and my whole entire life and being, and anything else the Aenil will allow me… will you be with me…”
Quietly, but with growing assurance Aerywyn started, and very soon he was again able to raise his head to look into Cypreana’s bewildered eyes. In the safe isolation of this distant corner of the keep, he was making one of the gravest decisions in a mans life, one that should never be taken lightly. He knew what they would say. How long had he courted this woman? A flight of fancy he had heard once… Did he love her simply because he loved… no, there was something here that drew him to this dear girl, something unique.
“Till the end of days, will you be with me always, my love?”, he finished.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
As Aerywyn uttered these words Cypreana took hold of his hands and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
"I cannot imagine myself with anyone else but you Arry!"
Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him passionately on the lips before hugging him.
"This is the best day of my life!" She announced, her heart overflowing with joy. Then she stopped and drew back to look at this incredibly gorgeous man. "But there is one thing." He looked quizzical. "No big wedding. Not like Edara. I am too shy!"
At which point he started tickling her and threatening the biggest wedding ever and they collapsed in a giggling heap of kisses on the floor.
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
As they calmed down a bit, Aerywyn rolled onto his elbows above Cypreana, with the billowing folds of her dress spread messily across the floor beneath them. Panting slowly, he looked into her eyes and planted another kiss on her lips.
“Fine… we won’t have a big ceremony…”, he conceded. “But here, before I forget, this is for you. Should you ever be away from my arms, turn your mind to this and remember that I will always ride back to find you.”
Aerywyn opened his hand a little and dangled the necklace he had been holding just above Cypreana’s eyes.
It was made of silver, and the craftsmanship was of an astounding quality. Hanging from the loop of miniscule chain links dangling from his fingers lay the centre piece, a sparrow swooping in flight. The detail went down even unto the feathers, and it almost seemed so alive, as if the bird would fly away at a moments notice. As it twirled about, there was writing on the back though it was too small to see yet.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea, Marshal of the Tribute Collecting Army
