• Mature • Rest Easy

[Elyna]

Early 122 Vhalar

The Skyrider was asleep. The deep, dreamless slumber of a new mother exhausted by the demands of her child. Elsie snuffled and stretched out in the cradle beside the bed and then snored gently. Elyna slept on. She didn't feel at home in the house or at ease with their surroundings but it was the best bad option.

Elsie had been full of a cold when the woman had returned to her daughter after reconciliation with Malcolm. The baby had been cradled in her arms, listless and cross in turn before sleeping uneasily. The young woman had been exhausted and found that the only way the baby slept and rest and therefore recovered, was in loving arms. It had drained her though and the effort had seen Elyna's own health deteriorat. The Skyrider had lost a number of trials. She remembered kind and worried faces, candle light and clean sheets. The smell of mint or lavender as she woke and was able to place hands on her daughter.

Recovering from illness, the woman had been reluctant to return home. The house was isolated in case she was taken sick again. The offer to stay with her parents stood, but she needed her own space. Preferably though, with help close at hand if needed. The last two trials had been spent in quiet anticipation of Malcolm's return. She had made sure the house was stocked with food and drink for her own health and Elsie's by extension. Good food and a variety of tea herbs.

She had expected him for dinner, hopefully and made what she suspected was his favourite dish. A meat pie that sat, part eaten on the counter top. Covered over with a cloth, a corner of which had dropped and was congealed in the gravy.thr evening had seen her change into a long, soft shirt and settle Elsie to sleep.

Elyna had lain awake listening to the sounds of the street beyond the window. Hoping for familiar footsteps. Finally though, sleep had claimed her.

[Malcolm]

Riding by moonlight had its disadvantages, but there was something peaceful about spending time alone on the road, especially when the destination was home. It had been a hard journey, and while the rest of his company had decided to make camp and call it a night, Malcolm had chosen to press on and ride late into the night, not wanting to spend another second longer away from his family than he had to.
The lights of the city came into view by the end of the fifth hour that night, which made it eleven hours of riding in total over the course of the day. Mithril was as tired as her rider, and when her iron shoes met the cobblestone roads of the city, Malcolm could hear that one of them had come loose. He climbed down from the horse and picked her feet up by lamplight, checking each until he found the offending shoe. The horse made a low grumbling sound and swished her tail, and Malcolm could tell she was pleased to be free of his weight.
The two of them walked side by side from the west gate to the barracks in Lowtown, and Malcolm left the horse at the stables, informing one of the squires on duty that his horse would need to be reshod in the morning after some water, feed, and rest. He made his way to the house in Midtown then, his sword heavy on his belt, body cooking in the plate armour he wore, despite the chill in the air. Outside his home he looked about the sleepy lane before fetching the extra key he kept hidden, and let himself in.
Greeted by the smell of wood-ash and gravy, Malcolm removed his weapons belt and followed his nose to the pie on the bench, but rather than slice himself a piece, he took the whole dish from the benchtop and sat down at the living room table with it. Malcolm cut the pastry with a fork and chewed a mouthful, ashamed of the satisfied little smile that followed, so easily pleased. He dare not compare himself to mouse, but tried to eat without making too noise, devouring a good portion of the pie before setting it aside under the cloth once more.
On his feet, Malcolm worked to undo the leather straps that held his armour together, removing the pauldrons, followed by the gauntlets, vambraces, and breastplate. The warden took off his gloves and put them down on the table, then came the tricky part, his chainmail. Most ordinary folk didn't quite understand how heavy the stuff was, and what a chore it was to put on and take off. The knight bowed and reached up behind his head to pull the chainmail away from his shoulders, and wrestle it up over his head. The heavy garment fell to the floor with a crash, and Malcolm cringed, praying he hadn't woken Elsie. He stood as still as a statue and waited, his muscles relaxing when no familiar cry followed.
Shirt discarded over the rail of the staircase, Malcolm climbed the steps one at a time to the bedroom, careful not to wake the baby, though he thought he had heard Elyna stir. Beside the bed, he wiggles his feet free from his boots and peeled his socks off before climbing into bed, stinking of horsehair, his own musky smell intensified by the sweat that had formed and dried on his body.
“Sorry,” he whispered, apologising for all of the noise as he pulled the covers on his side of the bed back and bent down to press a kiss to Elyna’s cheek.

[Elyna]

The soft click of the door was enough to wake the woman. She blinked in the darkness, lashes brushing against the pillow. Her hand sliding over the side of the bed to curl around the hilt of her favoured knife, the weapon Vakhanor had given her. Boot steps across the floorboards approached and tension slid over her body like a blanket, tears tracing every sound until the pie was collected. The skyrider smiled. Her cooking wasn’t much to shout about, so there was only one thief in all the world who’d stop to devour pastry. The smile turned into a grin and she curled up. Dread was replaced by excitement. She lifted her hands under the pillow and closed her eyes again.

The woman must have drifted again, back into Emea as the sound of crashing chainmail had her blinking awake once more. Elsie stirred, stretching her arms out and the woman reached over. Sitting up enough so that she could stoke a hand over the downy hair. Soothed the child settled back down and the woman let out a slow breath of relief.

It wasn’t long before the man found his way up the stairs. The bed dipped under her weight and the woman twisted in his arms. His chest was warm, slick with sweat. Her hands pressed against his shoulders and smoothed down his arms, exploring the bunched muscles. She nuzzled in against him without a word pressing a kiss to his neck. He stank, the smell rising off him with the hear but the woman wouldn’t have changed a thing.

“You’re back late?” She whispered. Pressed up against him she held him tight. Lips against his neck and eyes closed as she revelled in the sensation of his return and the heat of a warm body on a cold night. “if you wanted to wake Elsie, you could drop the chainmail again?” she teased, a soft giggle breaking the quiet.

 

[Malcolm]

His low laughter was gruff and husky, and the kisses he dotted to the woman’s face and neck protested the idea of waking his daughter. Malcolm couldn't really smell his own scent having put up with an army of smelly knights for the last fourteen days. Elyna on the other hand, smelt delicious. Her hair was always flesh, and her skin smelt like home.
Trapped in his arms, Malcolm held the woman near and pinched the top of the covers with one hand, pulling them up so that they covered his exposed shoulder. “I know it's late,” he acknowledged, “I missed you both though, and I didn't want to spend another night in Venora.” Malcolm thought of the rest of the knights then, all shivering in their tents, and smiled. “Not when I have you and promises of warm welcomes,” he teased, referring to one of the letters she had sent. Indeed, the bed and their shared body heat was a lot more inviting than than the idea of lying on a thin bedroll in the valley.
Really the warden was quite exhausted and wouldn't be holding Elyna to any of her promises, good or otherwise. She seemed comfortable in his arms, and the closeness made him forget the aching pain he felt all over due to the long ride.
Malcolm nuzzled Elyna’s nose with his own and kissed her on the lips. “No talk of the trip,” he murmured, “tell me about you and Elsie, are you both feeling better?”

[Elyna]

He trapped them beneath the blankets. The woman chose to wear softer, worn in shirts and trousers when she slept so they moulded to her body. The smell of him, although pungent wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was something that always reminded her of Malcolm and happy times working together. Wood smoke, horse and sweat, armour oil and whetstone. All the scents of travelling with the army, even with an undertone of damp canvas and snow. It made him real, touchable, warm beneath her hands and most of all, it proved that he was really here and that made it perfect.

“Perhaps I should have put an expiration on your welcome,” she teased back, brushing her nose along the tip of his, “made you come back a little faster…” In the back of her mind, she wondered if the gift she’d prepared for his birthday was ready, or in reach. She burnt with questions, as always. Had everyone returned safely? Was the trip successful, her brother in chains? Marcus, Yoreth? He silenced the questions and the woman closed her eyes. He had all these rules, no talk of the mission in the evening, when they were travelling. They were good rules. Now, he didn’t want to return to the cold winter nights camping, or whatever it was they’d faced.

Careful fingers explored the knots on his back, kneading them into gentle submission. His spine and his shoulders had borne the brunt of any tension from the road. He needed a hot bath, a hot meal and the chance to relax. She wondered what kind of disarray he’d left with his armour downstairs and smiled. If given the chance she’d clean and sort it.

“Better,” she agreed and pressed kisses to his neck. Hoping the distract the man she nipped gently at his skin, “Elsie recovered from her cold after a few days, she was so…limp though Malcolm, I didn’t like it at all.” Her heart had been held hostage in her chest. Fear about the baby’s health had tormented her and made it hard to sleep. “She got better fast though, once she started and then…” she pressed a tongue to the edge of her lips, thoughtful. “I collapsed,” she admitted, voice soft. “I didn’t want to worry you, I’m sorry I didn’t put this in a letter…but what could you do?” She leant back to search his expression in the dark. The rhythm of her pulse thudding with uncomfortable irregularity.

[Malcolm]

Malcolm flattened the arm trapped under Elyna against the bed in order to prop himself up as he leaned back to get a better look at her. Really he wasn't surprised, she had done too much, too soon after the pregnancy, and during the time she spent pregnant, she had barely eaten anything. At first it had worried him, now it downright concerned him.
The knight frowned and got comfortable again, he knew he had to stop playing the role of worried father, Elyna didn't need one of those, and Malcolm didn't want to be one, he had enough troublesome offspring as it was in the form of Marcus and Vaughn. “Maybe I should keep you off your feet for a few days,” he threatened, intended humour evident in his tone. “I'm home, we can share the load,” his voice was soft but stern then, he knew how difficult it was to raise children, and Elsie could be quite the demanding little princess in her own way.
Elyna had been kind to keep the news from him, she knew how easily distracted he was by thoughts of her, and how mind went home to her at every given chance. It was his turn to be of comfort to her, and he pushed his hand up and down over the length of her back, ducking it beneath the loose shirt she wore to press the warm limb to her skin.
Malcolm smiled against her temple where he had moments ago pressed his lips. “In the morning I'll clean up and look after the monster and you can put your feet up. I’ve got some sewing for you if you'd like?” he smirked then, knowing how cheeky the offer was.

[Elyna]

He moved back and watched her from an arms length. He paused and she lifted her fingers over his skin, running them over the muscular torso as they lay side by side. "You're my lover, Mal," she purred softly. The stern tone that followed the joke was a rebuke; one that she couldn't miss, no matter how tired she was. He was several generations older then her, but that was easy to forget in moments like this. When they were simply two souls in the dark. Then he'd look at her differently or tell her off, in a way that was different still to the command of captain to Sargent or warden to captain.

The woman pressed her thumbs into the waistband of his pants and lent forward. She kissed him, hoping to coax his frustration into submission. Breathless she broke the moment and nudged his face with her nose. "Sewing?" She raised a brow "what did you do to your clothes this time?" Lips brushed his cheek "you must be tired. You don't have to look after Elsie. I'm fine...they kept me in the infirmary a few days and I've stayed in the city since. I just..." She'd never known exhaustion like it. The sensation that the very life was being drained from her body. But then she hasn't been a mother before and what good would complaining do? She'd already taken appalling actions; she was determined not to prove herself a poor mother. Especially not to Malcolm.

[Malcolm]

The kiss had silenced him, heavy eyelids weighted with lust in place of exhaustion, lulled from his half sleep-like state. Elyna's fingers caused his skin to pimple, lifted by her touch, thick across the tops of his arms and sides of his belly. Malcolm dragged the woman closer so that their bodies met, close enough that a sheet of paper would not fit between them. While one arm remained trapped beneath her, the hand of the other was free to move up and down over the length of her back, growing braver each time it dipped lower and lower away from the small of her back.
“I rode for trials, climbed mountains, went through windows, and even jumped off a rooftop,” he smiled against her lips where the knight then pressed a kiss. Malcolm hadn't so much jumped from a rooftop as he had fallen, but he had done enough to encourage plenty of wear and tear.
A warm hand followed the shape of her leg to the curve of her backside, and Malcolm rolled his weight away from the bed and on top of Elyna, freeing his arm for support. He hadn't mentioned fighting bandits, but there had been a spot of that too, something the skyrider would no doubt surmise upon closer inspection of the blood on the clothes downstairs in his pack, and the small slashes where a blade or arrow had passed too close for comfort, none but a whisper against his skin.
The mortalborn kissed his lover with such longing that no words could do his feelings justice. He had missed her, and in Malcolm’s mind there was nothing better than returning Elyna. The cold forgotten in the heat of the moment, where the flesh beneath loose clothing was pawed at and explored without need of guiding eye, keen to make two bodies in the dark one.

[Elyna]

The dance between them continued, broken by the soft sound of the woman's laughter as she tried to keep quiet. "If you wake the baby..." the warning was whispered against his ear. He needed a bath. Elsie was close at hand and stirring in her sleep and yet the young woman wanted all the world to slip away and grant them a moment. Malcolm was back and it seemed so unimportant to sleep. There were so many questions she had for him, had they captured the bandits? Had he stumbled across Ava, naked, again? They were lost though in the returned exploration and hushed noises of delight.

Things were still difficult between them, Elyna was able to recognise the signs though. The panic that boarded desire whenever he made a move to touch her neck or face. The weight on her chest that constricted her breath. She struggled to remain with him. Something that had once been effortless. Malcolm's mere presence had always been enough to drown her mind and leave her with merely senses. No longer the case since her return from Burhan and the birth of their daughter. The rambling, unstoppable reaches of her mind were frustrating. The same frustration that saw gentle hands turn to nails against his skin. Kisses to less then careful bites of flesh and the constant competition between mind and body until finally they were spent in each other's arms. The Skyrider lay back in the dark, trying to ease the wounds she'd inflicted. Head bowed against his chest she panted and she worried. What if things never return to normal? To how they had been before?

Silent Elyna slid from the bed and dressed. She checked Elsie was warm enough and slipped barefoot from the room. Assuming that her lover had been claimed by exhaustion and the burden of a long journey, late at night. Trying to collect her thoughts and settle them, she found herself staring at the stain-glass window in the main room. The light from a grey dawn setting the picture alight.

[Malcolm]

Like the sun reaching for an evening shadow, the distance between them had not been undone, and for all the effort either of them seemed to put into the relationship, the gap refused to shrink. Back and forth they danced, playing the same game of cat and mouse. Even with mind and form flooded with desire Malcolm felt it, that disconnect, and could almost pinpoint the moment his lover’s body tensed and became reactive, switching from consciousness to autopilot. Malcolm hoped that if he kept trying, sooner or later things would change, Elyna would come back to him, and everything would be as it once was.
In bliss he lay still, short of breath, and heavy with sleep and contentment. Elyna slipped from the bed and dressed in silence, leaning over Elsie’s crib for a brief time before she went downstairs. Malcolm opened his eyes, staring into the darkness, willing his senses to remain alert enough to follow her movements. It sounded as if the skyrider had stopped in the living area, and Malcolm rolled onto his side, sitting up to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Too tired to follow, and not willing to risk an arguement, he slumped back against the pillows again and looked up at the ceiling, wondering what would become of them if things didn't change… if it was too late to go back.
While the two of them had brought so much joy into each other's lives, that joy had been tarnished with pain. He had let her go that day at the docks instead of fighting for her, and because of his poor reaction to her engagement, she had met Marcus. He had kept information from her regarding Vanessa which voided their marriage and had put Elyna in danger, and his most recent mistake had seen the noble woman share her house with his ex-lover.
Malcolm looked at the cradle and cursed himself for ever making it seem as if he had not wanted Elsie in the earliest stages of Elyna’s pregnancy. He had reacted in such a poor manner, and couldn't even remember why he had been angry at the time. To think that he had ever considered denying she was his...
The last season had been hell and Malcolm wasn't keen on repeating that ever again. He knew what they needed more than anything was to communicate better and be honest with one another, but for a man of few words, that was sometimes easier said than done. A shuffle of heavy covers and a frustrated sigh saw him roll to face the window, curse the dawn, and close his eyes. Later they could talk, for now he needed to sleep.