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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FifthMovement|Fifth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT ADanceOfAngels |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == A Walk in the Clouds ==
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' Not too far from the hourglass, she walks... tending to a garden of her own. She paints it, a pallette of essence creating the unique and great plants all around. She dances in the middle of it, dances like fire, tetering the dangerous edge between teasing and burning her own creation as she paints...
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| − | A garden for her healing.<br>
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| − | A garden of her essence.<br>
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| − | A garden of her own...
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| − | She lets it expand, the essence of life pouring over her garden, the essence of growth creating incredibly great herbs... and the essence of fire, teasing, curbing, giving the spice all unique to her.
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| − | She would sing, but that was something she was still learning.<br>
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| − | But she painted, she danced, she loved...<br>
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| − | her essence shielding that grove from the cold of Ascendant Air all around...
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| − | | |
| − | '''Cael: ''' It's to this small oasis of warmth that the Windwraith walks this afternoon, quietly slipping into the bubble the wood aspect had created, ever so careful not to disturb either the garden nor the dancer in the middle of it.
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| − | The coat he wears today was created by the Binds, long and white, trimmed with suble accents of gold, shimmering characters traces up from the base, visible only when the light hits them right, flahsing into visibility before fading into the white once more. Beneath this he wears his customary luxurious black silk, thick enough to warm one somewhat even against the cold outside, only a few rings adorning his long fingers today.
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| − | Then, carefully, quietly, in the heart of the garden, he settles himself against a tree to watch the dancer clad in crimson petals, waiting for her to notice him, a faint, sunlit smile on his face when she finally does.
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She jumps... the fire lifting her up the earth, and petals a whirlwind around her.... and then, from far up, as she uses her brush to give finishing touches on the top of a tree, she sees Cael.
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| − | | |
| − | Startled.<br>
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| − | Surprised.<br>
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| − | Annoyed.<br>
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| − | Overyjoyed.
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| − | The warm wind and petals of orchid bring her as a path to the place in front of him, a smile gracing her crimson lips... the tatoo on her forehead writhing and glowing. "Enjoying the show, my wind?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael slips an arm around her waist, gently pulling her closer to him, feeling the warmth on his skin, admiring once again her form and grace, letting her see him do it.
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| − | "I am indeed, orchid mine." he says, then leans forward, tasting the spice on her lips. "It is a delightful garden you have here, too."
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She lets herself be taken, the fire warming his skin, the petals caressing his hands, his face... as she makes a soft contented noise, nearly a squeal as he holds her... giving him her spice. "You like it?" She smiles as they break the kiss, the taste, and motes of essence spice hanging between their broken lips... and she looks at him, the praise truly getting to her... she really wished that from him. "One like me needs a haven somewhere in this cold desolation.."
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| − | She runs a hand over his chest, "Although those cold winds do have their charm..."
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| − | "Those winds are stronger now, it seems... more foward."
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| − |
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "And a haven you have here." He says, admiration in his voice. For all his skill with words and his visions for the future, such a place would always be something he would be taxed to create, and something that he could appreciate the beauty of.
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| − | And how well it complemented the beauty of its owner.
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| − | He could appreciate that for a long time too.
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| − | | |
| − | "Do they now?" he draws a finger slowly up her back as he asks. "What makes you say that?"
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She leans against him, feeling the shivers from his touch... he is like the north to her, and it touches her like ice...
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| − | Well, not ''quite''!
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| − | "Taking the first move... more active than before. Assertive rather than passive." She looks up, "I like that. More... regal, too. Confident. And... something else. It is like something changed... small, but important..."
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| − | "But I like my winds like that."
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael smiles at her as she shivers, as she looks up, speaking to him, trying to work out was different, the smile gaining hints of mystery, suggesting that he knows and isn't going say as she continues to search for what it is.
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| − | "Good." is all he says in response, a good-natured agreement, with merely a hint of what might have happened had she not approved.
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| − | "I wondered if you might like to dine with me this evening?"
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' "If my winds would sit still for a moment while I finish my work here..." Her fingertips brush at his face, his lips... "Or will they be gone as soon as I turn around? But I would love to. Believe it or not, my nights on the Hourglass tend to be very... lonely."
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| − | "I have a few things to tell you, as well..."
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "The winds are not so fickle as to invite a lady to dinner and then vanish while she works, especially not when she mentions loneliness." Cael says with a grin, and a carress of her cheek, one that ends with him cupping her head and stealing another spiced kiss from her.
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| − | "Where might I best sit to watch my flower at her work?"
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She closes her eyes. She shivers, she lets him steal her taste... winds and fire caressing his new jacket...
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| − | And when she breaks it, her eyes become slits, tender... something she tries to hide, that she tries to hide quickly as she points up, and tries to turn her slitted eyes into mischievous, daring ones. "Why, up there!" She points to one of the tallest branches of an extremely tall, gnarled and wide Mango tree that should not be alive in the north... too high, too small branches. "From there, my dear, you could ''perfectly'' see all my garden, and me..."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael's own eyes show daring too, studying her face and then the tree, before looking at her with a speculative eye. Then, before she can react, he holds her to him, and ''leaps'', sailing through the air, long coat flapping in the breeze of his passage, petals and flames caught in his wake.
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| − | As he reaches the apex of his leap, over the thinest, highest branch, the one that offers the perfect view of the garden, he twists and lands, taking a seat on the branch that causes it to bow not an inch, Orchid now sat in his lap.
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| − | "You're right," he says, tilting her head to look at him. "This is a marvellous view of the garden, and of you."
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' "He... hey, stop! Hey, hey, ''he'' - -" She protests, trying to look for words but finding none, her words lost in a yelp as he leaps... and lands. "Silly!" is all she says, a mock-slap to him, then a giggle... looking down at the garden. The trails one could only see from far up. The way they formed patterns, dragons, and kanjis, as only she knew. The harmony, the balance between the natural and the unnatural...
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| − | | |
| − | And the compliment. Mattering so much...
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| − | She blushes deep red, harder to find a grip on her emotions, face going... mellow... "Thank you, my wind... you, too..."
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "You look delightful when you do that, my flower." he whispers in her ear as she blushes, his voice as warm as the blood rushing to her face, laced through with a daring undertone.
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| − | "But now, I think you should get to work..." he says as he pulls back, all hints of the dare gone from his voice, though still his arms are around her.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Orchid: ''' She is taken by it... by his dare, by his actions... she liked him like that...
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| − | And nearly frowns as he makes her back off. The moment dead, she takes a step...<br>
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| − | ...and falls.<br>
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| − | The leaves of the tree came before her feet, a stair for her...<br>
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| − | held by nothing else but currents of warm air...
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| − | | |
| − | And then, she was on the ground.<br>
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| − | And then, she resumed her work.
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| − | She begun her dance anew, a brush of essence painting wonders, once again... the petals and leaves a whirlwind around her... the herbs she had used on the prince before, being made, so many varieties or orchds, that she cultivates... dancing more than she should, flaring more than she should, all a show to him... and then, she finishes, a drawn-out bow to him.
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| − | | |
| − | "Show is over, my dear." Her eyes move upward slightly... expecting compliments, expecting his move...
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael watches, of course, watches her dance and watches her move, golden words flowing from his fingertips in a series of impromptu poems about the garden and about it's carer, drifting down from the tree much like snow before melting a few inches above the verdant plants.
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| − | And then the show is over, the last verse tumbling from his fingertips, before, with a flick of his wrist to make her take his eyes off him just for an instant, he drops, straight down, landing on the grass below with barely a whisper, without bending a single one.
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| − | When her eyes find him again, he's leaning on the tree, much like he was when she first set eyes on him earlier, the same faint smile on his face, though this time he lets her see his eyes tracking over her body, lets her see some of the warmth she kindled there.
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| − | "And quite a show it was, orchid mine." his voice once more filled with appreciation. "It is easy to see why it grows with such ... lan."
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| − | "Such ..." and then he jumps again, merely the impression of dense golden words left on her vision, landing behind her, slipping arms around her, lightly trapping her arms at her side, the same warm, daring ripple as she heard atop the tree in his voice as he whispers once more into her ear.
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| − | "''Vitality. ''"
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| − | * She smiles.... and then, it is like a blink.<br>And then they are there... so far up north.<br><br>Zephiris is a place, far to the north, where the clouds have frozen up. Long, long ago, some people ran up to the clouds to run from the creatures from the cold wastes... found great buildings above the frozen clouds... and made a city, a whole city on the clouds. On time, it has become quite sophisticated... and to one of its most sophisticated places, Cael takes Orchid...<br><br>The ''Snow Lion'' is a restaurant Cael went to once or twice. And it had its delicacies...<br><br>Orchid had a crimson fur-coat on, very heavy, hands covered with dark green gloves...<br><br>And she held her displeasure for the cold... barely.<br><br>"This is... incredible. How did you even find this place, Cael?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael has his arm around her of course, holding her close to him, letting her feel the faint aura of warmth and sunlight that surrounded him, making sure she felt it, glad the city was having the effect he desired.
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| − | "You hear of such places when you travel as the wind does." is all the answer he gives, his smile suggesting there is a story in the discovery. "But yes, it is quite increadible." he agrees with her, as he leads her up the steps carved from frozen cloud to the glass fronted ''Snow Lion'', up and through the doors, a mere nod at liveried footmen on the door enough to confirm that he has the right to be here, no questions.
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| − | A simple expection is all it takes to get the Maitre'D to look up from the guestbook.
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| − | "The Windwraith." meeting his eyes, with a small smile, the knowledge that his name was on the books.
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| − | A nod from the Maitre'D and it is as if the waitress materialised....
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| − | * The inside of the Snow Lion is... unusual.<br><br>Great lions of white marble decorate the walls, murals with them showing their game... all the creatures that can be eaten there. Art, murals, menu, all in one. Great windows - as tall as the whole floor, and spheric - show the frozen clouds and the visuals beneath the cloud-castle the Snow Lion was built above of. The tables are wood, and cushioned - so as to warm faster - and despite the freezing cold, the barmaids walk in minimal clothes, unhindered by the cold, all of them with hair the color of ice.<br><br>The Maitre'D assents, and some come to them - calling Cael by name - and treating him as a royal guest, as they help them get comfortable and ask for what they would wish to eat or drink... or wether they would want one of the more private dining places upstairs, with the better vistas...
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' "You are well-known here, I can see..."
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| − | ''And there is probably a story for that too, isn't there? ''
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| − | '''Cael: ''' ''Or I simply booked ahead of time... ''<br>
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| − | ''but, yes, I'm well known here''
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| − | | |
| − | "Though I've not been here in some time ... it is gratifying that they remember me."
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| − | He nods to the offer of one of the more private tables, know that they are perhaps a little warmer than the more public ones downstairs, and the privacy would suit his purposes slightly better.
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| − | ''And, of course, there are the views... '' Cael thinks to himself as they are seated before the sheet of transparent crystal glass. Beyond it there stretches a view of the whole city, the many and impossible buildings making up the jigsaw lower half of the vista, as the too tall buildings twist with each other to climb up to the sky, here and there brilliant emerald patches of the gardens, kept alive through thousands of tiny rituals throughout the day.
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| − | The sky ... a perfect sheet of azure blue,<br>
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| − | no clouds, for they all froze out centuaries ago to make the substance this whole place was built on, nothing visible there even to Cael's eagle eyes.
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| − | "If you would take our coats please." he asks of the waitress, "and bring us some of the mulled wine. I think that my dear flower here will have the veal, and I think I will have the steak, today."
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She feels a little shiver without her coat, but sita accross Cael either way, asking for her own wine, wishing for it to warm her...
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| − | | |
| − | ... and losing herself in the sight of the city, of the clouds, of the sky... "... you sure know the wonders of the world, my wind..." She says, before looking down... "Did I miss much of your exploits after defeating an army single-handedly?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael reaches across the table then, letting her feel the warmth once more, knowing she'll appreciate it all the more now.
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| − | "I know a few, it's true. I hope to find more, and I am sure the world is big enough to keep me searching for some time..."
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| − | "Buuut ... since then ... I have recieved something of a promotion, or at least an official position, as quartermaster for the Windian Army. And then ...." he makes a lazy gesture, and golden words, incrediably dense, flow from his fingertips, and around her neck collalessing into a long silken scarf to warm her, the other end in his hand, as the golden words stop flowing.
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| − | "I discovered a little more about myself."
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She looks, impressed... then touches the scarf, placed around her neck, following its length up to his hand, up his eyes, amazed, breathless...
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| − | "This... this... you made this? Sorcery... no, no Sorcery... like the Fair Folk? Gods?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "Yes." He says simply, tracing his fingers over her hand.
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| − | "Or rather, I'm not entirely sure. I suspect it might be closer to the way that the Gods work. I can write things into Creation with the Empyrean Binds now."
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' "Ah, your golden tatoos..." Her hand holds his', in the space between them, the line of the scarf as the connection between them... as a new one he had just made. She looks at him with a hint of disbelief. He was something else, something even anathema did not do... "... should I be awed, or scared, dear Wind?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael tilts his head, letting the light catch his eyes in a way that made them seem to be so, so deep, framed by his silver hair.
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| − | "What do you think?" he asks, his voice promising danger and wonder all in one.
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' ''Yes. ''
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| − | "... Yes." She says, together with her thoughts...
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| − | A moment of silence passes.<br>
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| − | "That... wasn't even an answer, was it?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "It was ''an'' answer, orchid mine." he says, still holding her hand, still letting her feel the sun.
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| − | "But which question were you answering?" his voice thumbing softly with the suggestions of power and command.
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She brings her own petals, entwining around his arm... but submissively. She cannot match it, only complement it. "Yours... mine own. Are they not one and the same?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael simples in appreciation as the petals entwine his arm, considering her answer
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| − | "But..." and as he asks, he starts to tug lightly on the scarf like the leash it resembles to pull her over for a kiss. Of course, being that it is only a scarf, it is entirely her choice to follow... "...what does yes mean?"
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She lets the scarf carry her, closer, closer... her lips parting...
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| − | And whispering...<br>
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| − | "It means that I am in awe..."<br>
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| − | "It means I am scared..."<br>
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| − | "It means I am curious..."<br>
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| − | "It means.. much..."<br>
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| − | Parted lips, she waits for him... petals caressing his face.
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "Ah." is all he says, watching her bent over the table, feeling the flower petals she made brushing over his face, making her wait there for a while.
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| − | Before he gently cups her face and kisses her parted lips, then pulls back, smling at her once again.
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| − | "Good." his voice full and warm.
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She retreats slowly. It was an afterglow all on itself, holding his warmth to her lips... eyes half-closed, she stopped as far as the scarf let her, her own fingertips brushing her lips.... the marks on her forehead pulsing, spreading a little over her face, blood-red. "I wonder... when you find out even more about yourself, then..."
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael lets the scarf play out far enough that she can seat herself, watching her as her fingers brush her lips, as the blood-red mark spreads on her forehead.
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| − | "I wonder too ... " he says, letting her see the carmine glow reflected in his eyes, his demeanor questioning.
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She smiles with victory. He was questioning her, now... he wanted to know about her. She slid herself back to her seat, enjoying the cushioned covers, languishing in them, still shackled by his scarf... "What do you wonder, my Wind?" she asks, triumphantly, almost.
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "I wonder at your strange caste mark, the Crimson Aegis..." he says, as she reclines in the comfortable chair.
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| − | "And why you feel the need to invoke its protections for a mere kiss, Orchid mine."
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' "Why? Because I am scared, my dear..." her fingers trace upon the scarf, as if representing how bound she is...
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| − | "And they... they act as they will. When I am scared. When I am about to lose control to emotions. They respond to that, not to a conscious mind."
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael smiles dangerously at that, as she strokes the scarf, despite the fact it barely binds her at all. Had she resisted in the slightest, it would have fallen from her neck.
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| − | "Perhaps I should kiss you again then..."
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' And does that not show perfectly how bound she is? If she told him not to return, he would not. If she told him to let her go, he would. But she does not. She remains bound by light silk, out of her own volition... and that, scares her.
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| − | And yet, her smile is fire as it answers him. "Why, come, then..."
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| − | * And then, they come with the wine. "Excuse me...?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Which was, of course, why Cael smiled.<br>
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| − | He doesn't answer her fire and her words with anything more than a slight pressure on the scarf, to draw her to him with the bind that was not.
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| − | He glances to the side, at the waitress standing there, treating her to one of his warmest, most attractive smiles.
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| − | "Of course, if you would put the bottle down on the table, thank you."
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' She smiles up to the servant girl, the wine placed between them, their crystal glasses there... the pours for them, trying not to look too much at the surreal imagery of a princess of the earth bounded and not-bounded by something like a scarf.... "Here..." she pours the wine, then walks off....
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| − | And Orchid, closer to the table now, picks the glass... "What will we toast to, dear Wind?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "Thank you." he says to the woman as she finishes pouring, picking the glass with the hand that doesn't rest lightly now on the silk.
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| − | "What indeed, Orchid mine...."
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| − | He smiles at her then, a smile that promised nothing and everything.
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| − | "To this moment, then, however long it might last."
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| − | '''Orchid: ''' Swayed by his smile...<br>
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| − | Hoping for nothing.<br>
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| − | Pining for everything.
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| − | She holds her glass up... his toast making her happy.<br>
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| − | Happy because it is so... ''him''.<br>
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| − | His toast making her sad. Because it is him.<br>
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| − | And he is the wind, and nothing ever lasts for the wind, nothing ever matters for the wind.
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| − | "To this moment... however long it might last!" The glasses touch one another.
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| − | ''I will make it last long''...
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| − | ----
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FifthMovement|Fifth Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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