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Post by Riga Poniard on Dec 19, 2009 17:13:10 GMT
With an impish grin, Riga held up her left hand, slices through the gloves showing knuckles cut and bleeding. "Actually, you did. Not sure when this happened though. Maybe the first time we crossed swords."
Richard's kiss still tingling on her lips, the tall woman followed Richard into the small barn. This early in the season, it was still piled to the rafters with hay and was perfect. Scuffling followed as Riga divested herself of weapons, each one dropping to the ground with a clank.
Tension of the battle had teased but now Riga wanted more. Hardly waiting for Richard to drop his own weapons, Riga pulled him around and grabbed his collar in both fists, pulling his head down to hers. This kiss was harder, more needy and Riga was only peripherally aware of any pain from her earlier bruises. There was a sting through her cut lip, but it was lost in the sweet tang of the taste of Richard's mouth.
Their coupling was lively and spirited, hay getting in the few clothes they let stay on for temperature's sake. He was a strong man and an excellent lover; Riga could tell he had known tenderer times perhaps from the wife he spoke of. But ever-courteous, he set his pace to hers and they matched one another strength for strength.
Their legs still tangled together, Riga opened her eyes lazily, feeling languid and sated. She was eye-level with Richard's chin and neck and saw the smeared dried bit of blood there, the earlier scratches. Fishing for the corner of her tunic, Riga began to gently wipe away the residue. "Do you have anything to get back to town for, or shall we just laze about hoping the farmer doesn't decide it's time to feed the sheep?"
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 19, 2009 23:49:55 GMT
"Hmm?" Richard ran his palm along Riga's back and felt utterly satisfied. She had been thrilling, something in him had spiked to feel the scars under her clothes and the strength in her. He supposed it was the same part of him that refused to stop being a warrior.
"I don't need to go back until sun down. When must you leave? Mind cleaning my forehead too?" The blood had dried there too but he didn't want to send Grace into a frightened frenzy.
"I think you mentioned throwing daggers before," the light he realized was golden from the hay and dust. He also noticed he was tired to be noticing such things. "I've never tried my hand at them before. Mind teaching me sometime?" His fingers slid over a strange scarring, like ripples in her skin. Staying there, he circled around the area, his eyes sleepy on her dark blue ones.
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Post by Riga Poniard on Dec 20, 2009 4:34:56 GMT
Propping herself up on one elbow, Riga gently turned Richard's head so she could peer down at the forehead wound. It was small. "I can show you some on the daggers, but mostly it's just practice." The woman grinned down at him, smoothing his long hair through her fingers. " 'Sides, should I be giving away my special trade secrets? Perhaps we'll meet someday on opposite sides of a real skirmish. Don't wanna meet an opponent as good as me."
The cut was easily cleaned, then Riga sat for a time, idly playing with Richard's hair. "No, I've no place to be today. Part of the beauty of being my own master. I go where I want, when I want, with whom I want. No one tells me what to do." The last came out firmly, with a decisive tone.
Looking down at the man, Riga admired his rugged good looks. There was a sort of contentment about him, a self-confidence borne of experience and personal fortitude that was very alluring and Riga frowned a little. Men like this were rare; they were like beacons on a dark night and she would have be careful to steel her heart against any romantic entanglements. She was free and wanted to stay that way.
Sighing, Riga lay back, the hay rustling around her. Arm thrown over her head, she toyed with a stray piece of hair. "So tell me, Richard. You're no mercenary, or at least you didn't used to be." The leg she had thrown over his nudged him gently. "Those were real courtier skills I saw out there. What king were you with or lord or whoever? What did you do to get thrown out....." Raising her head, Riga grinned broadly. ".... Did you get friendly with someone's daughter?"
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 20, 2009 4:51:09 GMT
She does not need me as a lover, protector, teacher, guide . . . or whatever role I can possibly play to someone. He rolled onto his front and put his elbows on either side of her, looking down at her.
"I was ever the gentleman with the nobles," Richard answered and returned her grin. "They'd probably make me wash after tumblin' them. Or else not know what to do. Useless, soft things they are." A part of him twinged to speak ill of Grace and her kind.
"I left my ol' lord an' I'd rather not speak of it." His tone was curt, as if the topic was sore with him. Richard brushed his lips against her forehead and then murmured against her skin.
"You have no idea how good it is to hear another say tha', I am my own master. Do ye have any idea how many people expect all the good stuff to be handed to them on a lil platter?" The impatience he felt for that was heartfelt and his gaze went hard with the thought before flicking to her ears. "Hmm, I forgot ta look at yer ears to see if you're a changeling."
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Post by Riga Poniard on Dec 20, 2009 5:11:42 GMT
Eyebrow raised at the tone, Riga let the matter go. It was not business of hers why Richard had left his previous master. Especially not when there were more immediate, more pleasurable things to do.
Smiling smugly, Riga wrapped her arms around Richard's shoulders, hands spread across his shoulders. So broad. Shifting under so their bodies fit better together, she murmured against his neck, "Know what you mean. Nobles. Wonder how they got to the top of the food-chain, bein' as helpless as they are. Helpless without their circle of knights." The last came out much more bitter than she'd intended, then Riga wondered if Richard had been a knight. She decided it didn't matter; he wasn't one now and that's all that mattered.
Snorting a giggle when the man began to nibble on her ears, Riga arched her back, rubbing a foot along his shin. "Told you I was no changeling, didn't I?"
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 20, 2009 5:24:12 GMT
"Twas their ancestors. Their ancestors did all the work an' then the fire died cus they have a circle of people about them." Including him. Richard tugged on the top of Riga's ear with his teeth and marveled at the slow rebuild of heat in his gut. No dashing away from the shame of coupling here, or the hasty re-covering of bodies.
"Changelings are known as liars, 'specially when they're in danger of being found out." His lips mouthed her skin. "Ye taste human though, I always imagined the fae to taste a bit like chicken." All sleepiness was banished when he was reawakened to the feel of her hands on his shoulders. The barn was warm, very warm and the whisper of wind on his back a cold tickle.
"Here we go again, lass." Richard breathed against her mouth and then winked down at her. Like they were sharing a secret.
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Post by Riga Poniard on Dec 20, 2009 5:54:30 GMT
Riga moaned and turned her head, cupping the back of his neck with her fingers. Her other hand roamed down his side, along his hip. "Oh but... I am a liar. And a cheat. And every other nasty thing you'd care to imagine."
A growl emitted deep in her throat as their mouths met, eyes rolling closed and Riga immersed herself in the sensation. Lust, want, need -- all powerful as before. More delightful now as they took their time, exploring, teasing and satisfying. Her tongue followed Richard's collarbone till she felt the circular scar he had showed her in the tavern. Touching it with her finger, Riga closed her eyes. They both had horrors in their past; it was life-affirming to be as they were now, enjoying each others company. Survival of the fittest.
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 20, 2009 6:06:27 GMT
"Bad lass," Richard sighed and closed his eyes too. With such distractions aside, Richard's sense of touch was heightened. Feeling Riga's finger on his scar, Richard tipped his head back and brushed his fingers across her lips.
"We both have some unusual scars." There was little more chance for conversation as they ran their hands over the other. Removing the last few pieces of clothing to fully feel the skin of the other. Delighting in the heat and strength.
Later, Richard reluctantly dressed and finger combed his tousled hair. Then he ran his fingers through Riga's hair and kissed her mouth.
"If ye're willing," he said when he pulled away. "I would truly like to learn some knife throwing. Whatever you want to show me. That an' ye can show me where you got that leather waist protection. I know some who'll need it."
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Post by Riga Poniard on Dec 20, 2009 6:23:49 GMT
Rolling to her stomach, Riga lay for a while and watched Richard dress, in no particular hurry to do so herself. A leg swung behind her lazily in the air, back and forth.
"Sure, sure," she answered. "I'll show you a thing or two. And the leathers are easy but expensive. You need to go to a tanner, ask him to make a 'leather corset' to fit. If he doesn't know how, go to a clothier and ask to borrow their patterns." Riga grinned. "They'll all sputter and fume about 'nobody's ever done this before', but if you give them enough coin.... they'll do it."
Finally pushing up with her hands, Riga sat up, reaching for her underclothes. Now that the heat of passion had passed, her damp skin was growing cool and she tried not to shiver. "So.... since you've no lord to answer to anymore, are you just living job to job?" Riga shrugged as she pulled up stockings. "I've joined an interesting little guild that could use a man of your skills.... if you're interested."
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 20, 2009 6:31:00 GMT
Richard was bringing Riga's weapons to her (they had been scattered along the path of her undressing) as she explained how to get a hold of the leather corset. Mention of it being a corset made him dubious, he didn't want to go tightening one of those things around Grace's stomach. It was beastly.
"My thanks . . . aye, I live job to job." He hesitated at her mention of the guild. The brotherhood? No, surely there were other guilds. "I'm listening. What is this guild?"
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Post by Riga Poniard on Dec 20, 2009 6:48:53 GMT
Sliding the mercy-giver into her boot, Riga tossed her head to knock back some loose hair, reaching for a leather strap to tie it back.
"Some shady little outfit of rebels. Fairly proud they are about being 'outside the law'." Riga snorted. "Ain't we all outside the law who choose to be our own masters? Bit pretentious but sodding hell! They've got some bad-ass fighting skills I've only JUST scratched the surface of. Learned more in one week than I did all of last season." Riga laughed and touched her bruised face. "If I survive the training period, that is."
Standing, Riga buckled on her weapon's belt so her head was down when she added, "Stupid name though, all things considered. The Brotherhood."
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 20, 2009 6:55:05 GMT
"I'd hate ta sound like I feel like I'm above it all . . . but I don't join a 'guild' just cus they have some notion of bein' outside the law. I live by a code and I wont test it." He snorted at himself. "I sound like some bloody knight." The Brotherhood seemed to be falling into his lap and in Riga's case, quite literally.
"You'll survive. You've proven ta be nothin' but capable. Even if the place is dominated by 'brothers.'" Richard's gaze was amused. "They shocked ta find some sister's amongst their numbers?"
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Post by Riga Poniard on Dec 21, 2009 19:52:13 GMT
For a moment, Riga froze, her eyes flashing. But no, she could tell Richard wasn't that sort of knight. The kind who held no honor, kept no law of common decency. Who roamed the countryside in their little bands, foul beasts of men who thought nothing of murdering families, of subverting children...
Riga inhaled to draw attention away from her memories. This wasn't one of those knights, this was a man named Richard who was a damn decent bloke, a crack swordsman and a terrific lover. She gave him a sidelong smile as she reached for her cloak.
"No more shocked than anyone else is to see a woman in leggings and sporting a sword. But one thing I like about them -- they mind their business. No nosy questions or inquisition over where I'm going, what my motives are. Just the deal." Riga snorted. "Well they DO have a rigid screening process to weed out the losers. Part of my training."
Turning up her collar at the expected cold, Riga approached the door. "Ready?"
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 22, 2009 2:51:07 GMT
"I'm sure they have their secrets too," Richard followed Riga to the door while curiosity was a tingle in his stomach. What had been behind that moment where her eyes flashed at him? He kept his tongue still though, he was not trusting Riga with any secrets and so her past was none of his business. That made him remember Dante and Grace and he almost groaned.
"I'm ready," they left the barn. Grace'll probably be annoyed to hear I bedded one of the Brotherhood and, his eyes lingered on Riga's profile. Intend to bed her again. Best keep that to myself, no need to trouble her with the subtle flavors of trust. He really didn't want to be labeled a hypocrite.
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