Balm (Dusk)

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

70th Spring, 510 A.V. Sam had come to Syliras with a purpose that he had begun to doubt. There had been incidents in his life that led him to believe that there was a pattern to his life, visible perhaps only to the gods. The day a pretty girl had noticed him was the day she had helped him escape from slavery, only to meet an ethaefal from the heavens who had helped him shake his pursuit and then turned out to be an ancestor. This did not make a good case for coincidence. Then too, he had recently met a ghost bound to the ground upon which he had bled out, the victim of grisly murder. And this close to Cyphrus, he met more and more Drykas wayfarers. It was not difficult, then, for him to have traveled to Syliras based on a hunch, a feeling, that something momentous would find him there. He still felt it, tingling along the edges of his awareness, especially when waking up, still half-dreaming. That morning was no different, and like many mornings, his body--or portions thereof--were already standing at attention. He groaned and shoved his hands down his britches. Thoughts of Nel had plagued him yesterday at around this time, but today it was Lillis and Ha'na. Together. And... "Oh my GODS, get away!" he shouted at Horse, who was trying to eat his hair. His foot lashed out in an attempt at a kick the windrunner's head, but mostly just got his blankets all twisted up. Unfortunately, the distraction was enough to let the shame slide in between his skin and the rest of him, and his frustration knew no bounds. Cursing in Pavi so the horse would understand him, he got up and rekindled the campfire from where embers still smoldered under a charred log. He put oats in a feed bag for Horse, then put oats in a pot with some fresh water and cooked up some oatmeal for himself. In a foul mood, he ate his breakfast. He washed the dishes. He stared at the fire. "Petch it," he said, and stood up. *** In the human crush of the market, Sam's hands were busy. Here a silver, there a pouch whose strings were coming loose from a belt. He had always nicked a thing or two in a steal from the rich and give to the poor sort of way, and since he was always relatively poor, he never had to give any of it away, but today he stole with a will. His hunting knife was hidden up his sleeve just in case a purse string needed a little extra help to snap for him. As luck would have it, a rotund, rich looking merchant with a lazy man-at-arms was nancing about the market with his money pouch in sight. When it became clear that the guard was more interested in the buxom wench at the next stall, Sam moved in. It was a delicate business, pretending to peruse the stall's wares while sidling up to the grossly fat merchant, being invisible and waiting for that perfect moment when a quick snip-and-grab would... there! His knife and the pouch disappeared upon his person and he waited for a moment before moving off to the next stall, then the next, and then he was gone. *** That evening, Sam walked straight up to the Golden Dragon. It was the first time since earlier that spring when he had come with Nel and Doc when everything had gone wrong. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much to this day. It wasn't like he stayed in one place long enough to have true friends or a new family. Putting those thoughts aside, he let himself in, pausing in the doorway to allow his eyes to become accustomed to the light, his nose to the smells, and his ears to the sounds. He smiled to hide the sudden shudder of fear crawling up his spine with its claws and its whispers. One foot in front of the other, he walked up to the hostess stand, looking from the gold bracelet she wore to the smile that was brighter. Heartened, he smiled back, more sincere this time. He poured out ten golden mizas to prove that he was able to pay despite his shabby clothing. "I would like to spend the night with Merris," he said. "Please."

[Dusk]

The hostess smiled brightly and nodded to his request, not bothering to touch the money though she relaxed a little to see it laid out. "Of course, sir," she said, waving a hand to indicate he should bring his gold with him. "If you'll follow me?" She turned without waiting and led the way through the twists and turns of the Dragon's labyrinth, finally coming to a halt in front of a curtained enclosure. "Please, wait here and I'll fetch her for you," she said with a warm smile, holding the curtain back for him. It revealed a small room, about the size of a room at the Traveler's Inn, with a low bed and a table in one corner laden with candles and gently smoking incense. The air smelled of frankincense, heavy and lazy as only things of luxury can be; thick golden velvet draped the walls, and the neatly-made bed was covered in pillows of the same material. She left him there for perhaps the length of a chime, possibly two - and then the curtain drew back and a lithe young woman stepped inside, all thick black hair and milk-pale skin stretching out from beneath the few cerulean scarfs that twisted around her body in what could only be the barest hint of modesty. As she lifted matching blue eyes to meet his, a warm smile suddenly blossomed across her lips. "Sam!" she breathed, a husky chuckle pouring out between them. "I'd wondered if I'd ever get to see you again. Welcome," she said softly, taking his hands in hers and pulling them up to lay her cheeks against his knuckles, eyes never leaving his.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

He wondered if he had made some faux pas showing his gold too early, but she didn't seem to mind so he scooped it up and put it back into his pouch before following her down and around until he wasn't quite sure he could get back to the entrance without help or a lot of time. He thanked her for holding the curtain back and everything, even though he was relatively sure that it was his job to hold open doors and the like. When she left, he sat down. Then immediately stood up again so he could pace. He cursed under his breath, himself the object of his curses. So Doc was right; he was pathetic. But the shame spread through him like the pernicious roots of some evil tree and he suddenly felt hot and unable to breathe, ready to flee... But then she was there, even lovelier than memory, and her presence banished all that, at least for the moment. He smiled like the sun coming up in answer to her own, and then his hands were suddenly on her face and he couldn't help himself. He blushed like some fourteen year old maiden. "I," he began, "well, had a run in with a thief... But I came back as soon as I could."

[Dusk]

Her eyes widened as he mentioned a thief, and she turned over his hand to press a kiss to his right palm. "Well, I am glad to hear that you're safe," Merris said, her smile twisting into something more indolent as she lowered his hands, though her fingers twined with his. "It would have pained me to learn that you'd taken some hurt. Or, worse, that you'd forgotten all about me," she chuckled, lashes lowering coyly. Oh, he still blushed, and wasn't that a delight compared to the usual heavy-handed men who simply tore at her clothes and shoved into her without so much as a kind word? Well, she was told he wanted a night entire, and so she would treat with him slowly. "Would you like wine? Or tea perhaps?" she asked, inching just a fraction closer - close enough that he could catch the scent of lilacs that clung to her dark hair.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

His nostrils flared, taking in that hint of a floral bouquet that drifted from her when she turned her head just so. He noticed too her long neck, pale as smooth-sculptured stone. Abandon disbelief, that is what he would do in her presence tonight, or die trying. Perhaps in the morning her gilded lies wouldn't glitter so prettily, but he needed her kindnesses, even if he had to pay for them. "You're so damn beautiful," he murmured before he could catch his tongue. His head dropped to hide his eyes then. "Sorry. I'm Captain Obvious." A foot turned in the soft rug, like a horse hoof worrying at the ground, but she still had his hands. Her slender fingers enchained him in stronger bonds than steel. He couldn't make himself want her to let go. "Wine, yes, or tea... whichever you prefer, really..."

[Dusk]

At the blurted compliment, Merris actually gave a somewhat embarrassed laugh and blushed like some schoolgirl, releasing one of his hands to press the back of her hand to her cheek in an effort to cool the blush. "Oh, don't... it's still lovely to hear. At least when you mean it," she added, lashes lowering again as she stared at their joined hands. "Men say it, oftentimes, because they think it's what ought to be said. I much prefer to hear it on your tongue." She glanced up at him through those dark lashes, her thumb skimming softly over his knuckles. "Tea then," she said, smile twisting again as she pulled him towards the bed. "Here, sit," she murmured, urging him down with a hand on his shoulder. Before she let go his hand, she lifted it and pressed her lips to it again, eyes catching his, and then she let him go. There was suddenly much more air available, and she took a deep breath as she knelt before the candle-strewn table, lifting the cloth that covered it to reveal a teapot and pair of cups on a tray beneath it. Wine bottles, too, leaned against the wall, but she ignored them and instead pulled the tray out. Deft, precise hands soon had the tea strained and poured, and she slid the tray back beneath the table. She rose once more and padded back to him, handing him his teacup before she knelt beside him, her own cup caught between small hands as she peered up at him once more. Merris smiled up at him, warm and comforting, and there was a question in it that would never be voiced - why are you here? Not just for sex, no. A man like him would never come just for sex, though the strain of his shaft might have spurred the trip.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

He sat as she bade him do, quietly marveling at the efficiency and the grace with which she carried out a common enough task. She could also clearly ask questions without asking them, put heat in his hands, and butterflies in his belly. No wonder men had called women witches and burned them on pyres for the feelings they aroused. Flashing an awkward smile, he braved the burn of the hot tea and dipped his head down to sip it. When it cooled, he would enjoy it. For now the hot flavor hovered on his lips. "It's good," he said, appreciative and polite. "So... how have you been?" It seemed a valid enough question, but his sincerity begged to be reciprocated. Of course, she could claim that all was well, everything a lark, or she could bemoan her bad luck in an attempt to wheedle more coin out of him. He would likely even give it to her on the chance that she was truly in need and could use a little human kindness in her life the same as him.

[Dusk]

She shrugged a little, something in his gaze telling her that he wasn't simply asking to be polite. "I've been well, I suppose," she chuckled, sipping at her tea. "Business is good - Spring is always a good season here. Everyone's been cooped up in the winter cold, and once the weather turns warm they want to remember that they're alive." She smiled coyly and laid her temple against Sam's knee, gazing up at him with bright cerulean eyes. It might occur to him then that he could touch her as he liked - stroke her hair, caress her cheek, fall to his knees and kiss her. Shove her to the floor and take her. Nothing was impossible this night. "And you? How have you found yourself this season?"

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Lonely," he admitted after a pause, reaching out with a callused by clean hand to brush her bangs out of her eyes. The better to see her eyes, my dear. Also, the better to be seen. His smile at the admission was a little embarrassed, but mostly glum. "It's strange. When I've been out in the wild with just myself and my horse, it isn't so bad. But when I'm in a town or especially a city, surrounded by people, that's when I realize that I'm lonely. I see people joking with friends, lovers holding hands, mothers with children, old people, angry people... That's when I remember that people are herd animals too, even the loners." All this was true so far as it went. He almost believed it was all. When his words ran out, he sipped the tea. It was better now, not quite so dangerously hot. Not like Merris.

[Dusk]

Merris leaned into his hand, and when he withdrew it she simply turned her cheek against his knee, like a cat looking for affection. When he finished speaking, she settled her tea on the floor beside the bed and lifted a hand to skim soft fingertips against his cheek. "And why have you not found people here to cleave to?" she murmured, tracing the line of his jaw. There were no callouses on her hands, nor anywhere else on her body - every inch of it soft and yielding. "Why do you have no friends, or lovers to hold your hand?"