• Mature • Affection [Part ii.]

[Sabine]

Continued from Affection [Part i.].

Glass.

Timestamp: 56th of Zi'da, 716
Location: Vincent's Home

Sabine pulled her new cloak – Vincent’s cloak - close to her chest as she trudged through the damp streets. The morning’s snow had quickly turned into a dreary rain that continued on and off throughout the trial. Now, as lantern light bounced erratically off the puddles and dark clouds blocked out the moon, Sabine felt her skin begin to crawl. The shadows pressed in around her, giving her the sensation of being watched by unseen eyes, but each time she looked up she saw only cloaked figures passing silently by.

Still, her pace quickened and she felt a strange relief to see Vincent’s house come into sight. A soft light flickered from the second story window, promising warmth within, and she took the steps two at a time in her desire to get inside.

Once she reached the top of the stairs, she stamped her feet to rid her boots of water and knocked on the door. When Vincent pulled it open, she would greet him with a wry smile and gesture to her wet clothes in apology. If he let her, she would spend a few bits pulling off her boots and shaking out her cloak before stepping further into his home. The green scarf that he had given her the trial before would stay wrapped around her neck.

“The city’s a bit spooky tonight.” Sabine glanced back at the door as if expecting someone else to walk through. “I think the weather’s making me see wisps.” A shiver ran down her spine and she rubbed her hands along her arms. “How was your trial?”

After they had chatted for a few moments, Sabine returned to the bag that she had left leaning against the couch and pulled out a glass bottle of whiskey with a red ribbon wrapped around the stem. She had no expectations that Vincent would be surprised by the gift; she was, after all, nothing if not predictable when it came to alcohol.

The real question was whether he could be coerced into sharing.

“Now you have the beginnings of your very own bar.” She handed him the bottle and grinned. “You’ll be a true Rharnian in no time.”

Off Topic

Reviewer's Note: -30gn for the bottle of whiskey.

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

Vincent sat on the couch in front of the rooms fireplace, the light from the flames casting shadows across his face. The day had started out cold and with a light dusting of snow, though that had quickly turned into a a murky gray rain before the end of the day. He had donned the shirt Sabine had gifted to him the previous night over one of his lighter shirts to try and insulate his body against the chill that seemed to linger despite the fire.

"Mew" came a small voice from beside him on the couch. Looking down at Cloud, who stared up at him with her big blue eyes for a trill before crawling into his lap and then attempted to climb up his chest.

"I guess I'm not the only one who's cold, huh?" Vincent asked the cat as he lifted her and tucked her inside the long sleeve shirt at his chest." Soon after, he could her her delight in the form of a loud rolling purr.

Not soon after the sounds of feet could be heard just outside his door, followed shortly by a knock. Using one hand to hold Cloud against him under the shirt Vincent stood and walked to the door. Upon opening it he was greeted with a very wet Sabine. After a quick bit, in which Sabine shook out her cloak and kicked off her boots, she entered. After he shut the door behind her, he took her cloak and listened as she talked about the weather. He understood what she meant. "No wisps here." He commented, "Just me and...", as if on que, Cloud stuck her head out of the 'V' at his neck and gave a little "Mew", cutting off what Vincent was about to say. "This little nightmare." Vincent finished, looking down at Cloud with the same wry grin he often gave Sabine. To which Cloud responded with another happy sounding "Mew."

For the next few bits the two chatted idly while Sabine warmed herself near the fire. After sometime, Sabine leaned over and pulled a bottle of brown liquid out of her bag. Vincent recognized it instantly as a bottle of whiskey, and one of Sabine favorites. With a small laugh Vincent took the bottle from her and examined it. "I think we should open this now. To help warm us a bit." He said, the last bit with a false serious tone to it. Standing, Vincent fished Cloud out of his shirt and handed her off to Sabine as he made his way to the kitchen area. A few moments he returned with two cups of the whiskey, and another small leather pouch.

Vincent handed both the cup, and the pouch to Sabine as he retrieved Cloud. Inside the pouch Sabine would find a number of small glass beads of varying designs and colors. "I thought you could weave them into your hair." Vincent explained if Sabine gave him a questioning look.

[Sabine]

“Right.” Sabine nodded. “Some whiskey. To… warm us up.”

As Vincent left the couch with whiskey in hand, Sabine watched as the little kitten scrambled up her shirt and onto her shoulder. “He spoils you, you know," she said sternly.

Cloud seemed to disagree, and dug her claws into Sabine’s shoulder to explain exactly how much their opinions differed.

“Ow! Shit - all right, you win. You win, cat.” Sabine unhooked Cloud’s claws from her shirt and pulled the kitten into her lap. “You’re right - he doesn’t spoil you enough. Poor little Cloud, so mistreated by the big, bad man." She ran a hand along her fur and grinned as the action provoked a contented purr.

Her eyes were sparkling with amusement when Vincent returned to the couch. “Thank you,” she said, trading away the kitten. She eyed the gift and then the whiskey, debating whether she could manage both tasks at once. Never one to turn down a challenge, Sabine took a sip of her drink and attempted to open the pouch with a single hand as the liquor burned down her throat.

It soon became painfully apparent that it was a task requiring actual dexterity.

With a look of mild regret on her face, she set down the glass and turned her full attention to the gift before her. The pouch was forced open and, inside, she was met with a small handful of glass beads.

“Oh…!” She ran a finger over the beads before glancing back at Vincent as he explained their purpose. “You’ve been hanging out near the docks, have you?” she asked. “Checking out the biqaj women and their… fashions?” The teasing words lingered in the air just long enough to see if they would affect him before she reached out to grasp his arm gratefully.

“They’re beautiful.”

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

At Sabine's word about the fashions of biqaj women Vincent's face reddened slights. "Wha... No, I..." Vincent coughed slightly to clear his throat and give himself a chance to order his thoughts. "It's true that they have a very... unique style, but only one woman has caught my eye." Vincent said as Sabine reached out and put her hand on his arm.

"They're beautiful." She said, this time full of sincerity.

Vincent smiled at her, "I'm glad you like them." With that the two continued to talk, drink, and play with Cloud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Timestamp: 57th of Zi'da, 716
Location: Glass Quarter Garden

Vincent stood, leaning against the low wall that marked the end of the public garden and the start of the bit of the stone before the sheer cliff that looked out over Lake Lovlus. Snow fell gently around him, but he failed to really notice as he gazed out over the gray waters. Even in such weather, the view still awed him. Something about being able to look out and see so much was still something that filled him with wonder.

Rharne had yet to stop doing that to him. Every time he felt that he was used to everything the city had, he seemed to come across another site, or festival, or he'd see something he had already seen and be reminded all over again. There was something about this city that seemed to make him feel alive and like the person he was before his life had been burned away in the fire a year ago. The thought of what he lost threatened to pull his mood down and into darker emotions. Though at the same time another thought lifted it and reminded him that at the same time he had reasons to be happy. Those thoughts were the reason that he stood there at the moment, in the snow, looking out over the lake, Sabine.

When he finally heard the soft crunch of snow behind him, he turned her with a smile. As he did he lightly ran his hand over the pocket on his belt that held her gift.

[Sabine]

'Only one woman has caught my eye.'

A small smile lingered stubbornly on Sabine’s lips despite the cold and the wind and the wet snow that soaked through the soles of her boots. She had let Vincent’s comment slide the night before, but now her mind couldn’t seem to let it go as she traipsed across the gardens to meet him the morning after.

That had been their pattern, hadn’t it - unacknowledged comments, knowing looks, teasing words that meant far more than what was said. They would meet, talk, and exchange gifts, and then she would go home to turn their conversations over in her mind until sleep took her and they did it all again the next trial.

Ilaren only knew why she’d never invited him home with her.

Maybe it was because of him - how he continued to drive her mad with his secrets and his stoicism and his complete inability to let her read his mind.

Maybe.

Or maybe it was because she knew that the moment one of them acknowledged what was happening, a decision would have to be made - and she wasn’t ready to lose him again if they made the wrong one.

So instead of making a decision, Sabine had settled for their pattern of innocent flirtations and allowed herself only the very occasional daydream of a different future.

The snow slowed, and she dropped her hood after spotting Vincent standing at the edge of the gardens. Her smile widened and she gave him a wave as he turned to greet her. “You know,” she said, joining him at the wall, “the view makes me hate this weather a little less.” Her breath caught as she leaned forward to take in the gray waters of Lake Lovalus - a lake so large that, even in the Glass Quarter, she couldn’t see its opposite edge.

After few words of conversation, Sabine would pull a sheathed dagger from her bag and place it on the stone wall for him to take when he was ready. When Vincent inspected the dagger, he would see that it was masterfully crafted with a strong and durable blade. The ornate handle was, however, wrapped tightly in a black cloth. Should he choose to unwrap the cloth, he would see the word “D’Ordyn” engraved into the handle.

Sabine eyed him carefully, waiting to see if he would understand.

Off Topic

Reviewer's Note: -24gn for the masterwork dagger.

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

Vincent eyed the dagger on the wall briefly before picking it up and examining the blade. Another piece of masterly crafted weaponry. Running his hand across the flat of the blade he let his hand trail down to the dagger until it reached the black cloth that covered the hilt. Looking up to Sabine once before he slowly unraveled to to show his family name delicately engraved into the handle. Vincent's heart lurched. It had been so long since he had seen his family's name written out. The last time being on the grave markers that had been erected in their honor. A single tear slipped from his eye before he could stop it as he traced a finger over the name. He understood the meaning. Someday he may be able to take up his family's name again. Return to the person he had been before the terrible nightmare that had swallowed his life whole. Slowly he re-wrapped the handle in the black cloth and looked up at Sabine. "Someday, maybe." he said with a sad yet sincere smile. "Thank you." he said as he slipped the dagger into his belt.

As he pulled his hand away he came away with another small leather pouch, but didn't hand it to her. "This will be the last time I ask this of you, but could you please close your eyes and hold out your hands?"

Vincent would wait for her to comply. If she didn't comply after a few trills he would, with a teasing grin, gently reach out and lift the green scarf he had gift to her a few trails prior to her eyes and tie it in place so as to obscure her eyes. When her eyes were either shut or obstructed, he would speak.

"This is mine," He'd start, "that I give to you. What you do with it is your decision, but know that no matter what it is you decide, you will always be my friend, and my partner." With that Vincent would pull the object out of the leather pouch and gently set it in her hands. As he hands closed around the glass object he would either wait for her to open her eyes, or gently pull the improvised blindfold down around her neck.

As her eyes fell across the glass object in her hand, she would she it was dark glass heart, etched with lines that danced across its surface. As her eyes shift from the object to his, he would slowly lean in and attempt to kiss her.

[Sabine]

“Hey…”

Sabine’s stomach tightened as Vincent ran a finger over the name engraved on the dagger’s handle and re-wrapped it in cloth. She stepped forward and reached up to catch the tear. “Hey.” Her voice was firmer as her thumb brushed his cheek. “Some day, without a doubt.”

His next words caught her off guard and she was slow to close her eyes - so slow, in fact, that he was already lifting up her scarf to blindfold her before she could protest. She shook her head but gamely allowed the scarf to stay in place - though quickly began regretting the choice when he started to speak.

Blood rushed to her head and she froze, unable to do anything except numbly accept the small object he gave her. Its cool, smooth surface was at odds with the heat that had risen to her face, thanks to his all-too-honest words. And when the blindfold dropped, the colour deepened as her eyes fell across the dark glass heart that sat so innocently in her palms.

Slowly, her gaze shifted from the gift to his face and her eyes widened as he leaned towards her. “Vincent…” she warned, but his lips met hers before she could say another word. She hesitated, just for a moment, before returning the kiss shyly, tentatively, cautious of its newness and unsure of her choice.

But her body was sure - and it took over without question.

Sabine fell deeper into the kiss, into him, and her whole body lit up. Every part of her was electrified, as if Ilaren had sent a bolt of lightning down her spine. She wrapped her arms around his neck and would draw him closer, if he let her. One hand tightened around the glass heart, and the other ran through his hair with a newfound urgency. She pressed against him until she forgot where she was, who she was, that a world existed outside of theirs.

And then the skies opened up.

This time, rain began to fall in place of snow. Sabine blinked as raindrops landed on her cheeks and, within the trill, she had broken the kiss and pulled away with a gasp.

A pause.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Seriously?” Sabine shoved Vincent’s chest with her free hand. “You’re seriously doing this?” She wiped the rain from her eyes and would push him again if he didn’t stop her. “This is a stupid idea. What if it doesn’t work out? What if… what if I lose you again? What the hell am I - are we - supposed to do then? Immortals, Vincent - what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

Fire and ice. That was all his mind could comprehend as her lips met his. The cold of the air and the snow on his skin, except for where she touched him. Everywhere her body met his was fire, so hot he felt it should sear him to the bone, but instead it just filled him with warmth and life. As her hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer, he to let himself sink into the embrace, letting his arms encircle her and pull her closer to him, and he simply drank in everything about her. The feel of her against his chest and under his hands, and against his lips. Then just quickly as the moment had come, it was gone, wash away with the deluge of rain that fell from the gray skies above.

“Seriously?” she said as she pushed herself away from him. “You’re seriously doing this? This is a stupid idea. What if it doesn’t work out? What if… what if I lose you again? What the hell am I - are we - supposed to do then? Immortals, Vincent - what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

A small frown pulled the corners of Vincent's mouth downwards at her words. "Sabine..." Vincent said, his words slow and cautious, his eyes downcast as he searched for the right thing to say. "I understand your fear, and frustration. I want to say that it would be easy, or that there isn't anything to worry about, but all of that would be a lie. What is true is what I told you before, that no matter what come's next you will always be my friend and partner."

With that Vincent's eyes lifted and locked with her's as he continued. "But, nothing for me will change because I've felt this way for a long time now. I've made mistakes where you are concerned, in the past. I almost lost you, and it nearly tore me in two. I didn't do this on some whim, or because I thought it might be fun. I did it because I couldn't lie to myself anymore about what you meant to me. You don't have to answer give me an answer now, or tomorrow, or a dozen trial's from now, but if you do then we can figure out what happens next, together." His words weren't harsh, or heated, simply truthful.

[Sabine]

“I’m not afraid,” she said, but they both knew it was a lie. She was terrified – terrified of losing him and of losing herself to expectations that she couldn’t possibly live up to. And, worst of all, she was terrified of finding out how deep her feelings truly went. A kiss was a kiss, but a promise was something entirely different. It would mean coming to terms with something that she had kept hidden away for seasons, something that had gone long unexamined, something that had started maybe as early as the Lowtown Civil War.

Sabine crossed her arms and locked eyes with Vincent through the rain. 

’You will always be my friend and partner.’

What a simple thing – an easy thing – to say. But would it still be true one, two, five arcs down the road? ‘Always’ was a long time, after all, and it was a promise that might be impossible for him to keep.

Still, as he stood before her, baring his heart beneath the open skies, the unfathomable happened: her defences cracked wide open. Her face softened and her arms dropped, and the excuses began to retreat as it became increasingly obvious that this was not a battle they would win today.

Bastard always knew just what to say.

She tucked the glass heart into her bag and pulled him back towards her. “No more talking,” she whispered, and crushed her lips against his.

Purple.

Timestamp: 58th of Zi’da, 716
Location: Vincent’s Home

Her skin still sparked where he’d touched her.

As Sabine stood outside Vincent’s door, waiting for him to help her escape from yet another rainy night, she brushed a hand against her lips and came away electrified. Her skin was glowing and the corners of her lips felt as though they’d ever straighten, not with the little grin that had been permanently attached all trial.

Though she hadn’t yet given him her answer - and had, in fact, avoided thinking about her answer at all - she couldn’t stop herself from picturing the night ahead of her. The lavender candles she had tucked in her bag didn’t matter. The holiday itself barely mattered. All she wanted was a repeat of the trial before, to drag him onto the couch with her and show him exactly what he’d done to her.

So naturally, when he finally opened the door, she would greet him with a raised eyebrow and the ever-present grin, and would step into his home without a word. Because if there was one thing she enjoyed more than throwing herself at the men she liked, it was teasing them long enough for them to throw themselves at her.

Off Topic

Reviewer’s Note: -1.5gn for three purple candles in varying sizes.

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

Vincent's mind hadn't stopped since the previous day. His senses had been overloaded with everything Sabine. The smell of her soap on her skin and in her hair. The feel of her lips on his, and the way she tasted. Vincent had lost a good amount of time living in the euphoria that was that memory. Sitting on the couch, eyes staring at the wooden ceiling above he missed the first knock at his door. It wasn't until Cloud dug her claws into his thigh, that his daydream was shattered and he was brought back to himself.

Looking down at the cat he gently lifted her by the scruff of her neck. "What was that for?" Vincent asked look at the curled up ball of fur in his hand.

Clouds only reply was an innocent look and a "Mew", before another knock sounded at his door.

Vincent glanced over his shoulder at the door, before standing up and looking at the cat still held aloft. "Why do I not believe you." He asked the cat before setting her down on the couch and moving to the door. Opening he was greeted by a small smile that turned the corners of her mouth up just so, but seemed to light up her face. "How is it that, even though you're soaking wet and just coming for a day at the Cathedral, you still seem to glow in this gray weather?" Vincent asked as he shut the door behind her and helped her out of her wet cloak. While they did their normal back and forth about their days. Hers about her training in the Cathedral, his about trying to keep up with Cloud, and the bit of mercenary work he may have done that day, he moved into the kitchen area to pour them each a small glass of the liquor she had gift him a few trials previous, before moving to the couch where she waited, carrying both glasses and the bottle with him.

Handing her the glass he sat next to her on the couch, close enough so his leg touched hers and he could feel the heat of her next to him, before setting the bottle and his glass on the small low table in front of the couch, right next to a small, flat wooden chest, maybe two feet long, a foot wide, and maybe a couple of inches deep picking it up he set it in his lap and faced Sabine. "A few trials ago, I gave you a gift that I said every warrior should have, but you're more than just that Bine. So this is something every Lady should have." With that he would undo the clasps to the small chest and open the so the box opened up to her.

Inside Sabine would see a deep purple gown, made of silk with lightning embroidered across the bust. If she lifted the gown out of the box, she would see that the lightning actually ran from the bust down to the bottom of the dress, and a single branching bolt when down each of the gowns long sleeves. "I hope I got the size right." Vincent said searching her face for any tells to how she felt about the gift. "I could exactly have you try it on for size, but the tailor assured me that it could be adjusted to fit."

Gift

Purple Silk Gown w/ Embroidery = 127.8 gn