RP:Never Forget Me

Summary: Morning after Valrae's escape with Irenic.

Thank You

House Dragana

Towering over the abyssal forest, the dark mass of House Dragana is no less eerie than the vegetation, or lack thereof, in which it stands. The mansion's outer perimeters are flanked by the twisting trees and there are no gates to prevent the seemingly less desirable denizens of the forest from trespassing upon the property. A sleek, obsidian walkway runs from the house's entry to the path. The only source of light without comes form wrought-iron lanterns that are placed on either side of the walkway, spaced perfectly from one another. Within them, an eldritch glow of a deep, verdant hue flickers. Those brave enough to approach House Dragana's doors will be greeted with iron knockers bearing blackened skulls, their eyes set with emeralds that glow with the same light from the lanterns. Within the house's walls, there is no shortage of decadence. Only the most elegant of furniture is placed throughout its rooms. A grand staircase of blackened wood leads to the upper levels, where rooms for those that reside within the house can be found. Midway up, the stairs split to the left and right, spiraling upward. Here, there is a landing with a set of double doors that leads to a large ballroom. The lower level of the house plays host to a dining area and kitchen, though rarely used, a grandiose library filled with grimoires and tomes, and a small museum of artifacts collected by the house's residents. Though there appear to be no candles to light the way, an ethereal glow floods the innards of the house, providing ample reading light - undoubtedly arcane in origin. Dark magic is weaved into the house's existence as a measure of protection.

Valrae had argued. She fought and argued bitterly about being lead to Vailkrin. Firstly, because it made her empty stomach clench to think of leaving Irenic. Secondly, because Cenril was her home. She was a being of salt and sunlight and sand. The noise of the city, the crashing of the waves on her beach. Sure, the streets were dirty and often times harsh, but she'd never known another home. Lastly, because she'd heard stories about Vailkrin. The witch was comfortable enough in Valen's company, but Vailkrin was the city to much darker things than he, by tell of it. So she argued, but in the end the vampire persuaded her. They were both tired, both wounded and it would do no good for them to be caught as such. Because of the late hour, it was easy enough for them to slip out of the city unnoticed. She had made the journey with her book of shadows held tightly to her chest and with nervous glances over her shoulder and to the sky. By the time they'd made it to their mysterious destination, the rush of energy she'd been given from the moon had vanished and the toll from her wounds and giving Valen some of her blood was apparent. The witch was exhausted. The house of Dragana was nothing short of overwhelming to her tired senses. It was beautiful in a terrible way. The magic that practically pulsated from it was far darker than any she'd ever trafficked in. She had to be reassured again by Valen that no harm would come of her entering it for a night and even though the woman eventually conceded, she still wasn't entirely convinced. It was as beautiful and impressive on the inside as it was on the surface, perhaps more so. She was lead to what would be her room for the night, giddy at the sight of what other things Maude and Irenic had managed to save from her room at the Inn. Valrae was helped, be it by Valen or a servant of the house. Soon enough her wounds had been seen too, and she'd been allowed the greatest gift of the night; a bath. Alone, in water that was scented with rose oil and lilac she let her relax. The soap that she used to wash away the dirt, sand, sweat and blood of the night smelled of coconut oil and pomegranate. She washed carefully around the wounds on her head, wrists and ankles and sighed blissfully into the warmth of the water. When she'd finally scrubbed away the worst of the night and any of the musty smell of her prison, the woman sat with her knees pulled to her chest and wept. Valrae cried until her chest ached and her eyes were sore. Regretfully, because she felt as if she could stay in the water for an eternity, she left the bath. Wrapped in a towel, with her freshly washed hair hanging in a wet mess all around her, she rummaged through her things. She had become far to thin for most of her clothes to fit properly, but eventually she found a dress that seemed suitable enough for sleeping. It was as white as a blanket of fresh snow, quarter sleeved, long enough to cover her ankles, and had a pretty black lace belt that she could adjust to fit snugly around her too thin waist. To the small part of the witch that was shamelessly vain, it felt so good to brush her hair that she almost cried again. In her lavishly furnished room, Valrae sat on the bed with her feet tucked under her and brushed her hair until all the tangles were out and the long waves of golden tresses were glossy and dry. Now was the time for sleep, and though the beautiful bed was comfortable and inviting, and the woman was exhausted, sleep seemed to elude her. The witch slipped under the covers expecting to fall quickly asleep, as the change from being chained to the wall to a fine bed was a large one, but she tossed and turned until finally she accepted that she would be awake. At first, she simply went through her things and quietly mourned what had been taken by the guards, rejoicing at the things that had not, but as always with Valrae, her curiosity won over. She abandoned her room to explore the House Dragana on bare feet. It didn't take her long to find the impressive library and when she did, typically, it was the last stop of her adventuring. She looked through the collection enthusiastically, running her finger along the spines as she went, until finally she had picked a few that were the most intriguing to her. And that is how Irenic might find her, curled in a comfortable spot of the mysterious library, surrounded by books and sound asleep.

Irenic was finally released under a false name he gave the authorities and his glimmer was still holding up well, through the battered state of his being; he claimed he'd not remembered a thing of the night before. When they questioned him lightly about someone named Valrae his facial expression never changed as he wanted to smirk in his victory, but his bored reply would be, "Who?" He stepped outside in the ragged pants they dressed him in and the sun was rising on the horizon as he looked up then looked at his wing… He wont be flying today. He turned himself and started walking in any direction and to ensure he wasn't followed he took a complicated way so he couldn't be connected to the events of last night. Once he felt the potion for the glimmer start to wear off he ducked inside of any Inn/Tavern and came out with his usual large Ivory wings, dusky brown hair and even his usual attire; black V neck sweater, black slacks, black boots. He had managed to get the rest of the arrow out of his wing and fold it in a way it wasn’t noticeable. The sun was at the top of the skies now as he finally made his way to the House Dragana and once he crossed the barrier to make his way through the front door he stopped a moment. His memories sometimes jumble and he had to mentally grasp at something until he quietly said to himself, "The library…" He would have run if he had the energy, but his posture was lacking and his wings seem to have slumped behind him to drag on the floors. His strides were still long enough and he finally opened the door to the library while that familiar smirk spread out on his scarred lips as the door frame was sort of holding the Avain up, but once his bi-colored eyes set on Valrae he felt a whole new vigor come over him. Quick steps find her seat and he pulls the book from her grasp to toss it aside while his other hand held onto one of her's to help her stand up. Once she does stand up his arms wrap around her and pick her up in an embrace while walking over to Lady Dragana's desk and setting her atop it so be may kiss her passionately; more so than before and even more than back at the jail during his visit. His hands caress their way up her sides until they reach the sides of her neck as he rests his thumbs on her jawline during another passionate kiss while his body is pressed to her's and he was somehow impossibly warm. His hands shift to nestle his fingers through her soft hair and deepen the kiss further before gently and sweetly breaking their little snog time. He spoke softly although the gruffness of his voice made it dark, "Even though you make chains look like a desired accessory… I am glad you are out of them." One of his hands is still behind her neck while the other gently tucks some of those golden locks from her face and behind an ear. He was not a pretty sight; with a black and blue eye and nose area, but his carelessness and confidence shines through it.

Valrae | Once, Valrae was young and had been in the Cenril library she read a particular set of fairy tales by men who called themselves The Brothers Grave. Now, by far her favorite in the original works was the story of a girl who fell in love with a bear, but soon the young witch would discover that the tales of the brothers had been re-imagined quite often. So the curious girl read as many as she could get her hands onto and found one that she eventually read so often that the spine of the book had to be repaired. The book was Beauty by Nidora Lang. The story was of a girl, not quite beautiful in her own eyes and hating the childhood nickname, who volunteered to take her father's place in a cured castle with an unknown beast. For the first long weeks of her stay in the castle she'd never even met the beast and had made herself content to explore the mysterious halls of her new home in deafening quite. Like Valrae, Beauty often found herself in the library. This is the story she thought of now as she woke to find herself in the House Dragan's impressive library. Only, the man who had gently taken the book that was slowly slipping from her sleeping grasp was no beast. Even under the bruises and fresh battle wounds Irenic was a stunning being to behold. The witch could only blink her sleep darkened eyes at the Avian for a confused moment as she tried to pull herself back into the current reality. Irenic pulled her up and away from the chair. Before she had time to notice the cold of the floor underneath her bare feet the man was sweeping her off of them. A small, feminine squeal escaped her and was immediately swallowed by a passionate kiss. Suddenly, as she was doing her best to return the favor and not worry about falling, there was a sturdy surface under her bottom. Irenic's positioning of himself between her legs and exploration of his hands had her dress bunching midway on her thighs. Because it was Irenic, she was surrounded by the scents of salt and sand as they kissed. Her head was spinning from it, her sleep addled my trying futilely to catch up with what her body was doing on what was almost auto pilot. Her legs, of their own accord, wrapped around him to pull him closer. The familiar smell of home she missed so much, the way his hands always seemed to find her hair, because those were things she'd never in her wildest dreams thought she would have again tears were threatening to slip down her cheeks. It was overwhelming, all this freedom, all this passionate attention. He pulled away. Her breathing came in short gasps. The witch shuffled nervously under his gaze and pushed at a strand of honey hued hair that had fallen in her moss colored eyes. A lovely shade of pink was blooming on her pale cheeks now. "Irenic," The witch laughed as she said his name, her hand moving to touch the side of his bruised face. "You came for me," The tears spilled over now, and Valrae found herself crying again. Her hand dropped, and she would wrap her arms around him suddenly in a tight embrace. Burying her head in his chest and letting the smell of home surround her she cried for a moment. "Thank you, thank you so much for not forgetting me."

Irenic would softly grunt in the midst of their kiss when she pulls him in closer and in that instant things almost take a different turn, but he had to remind himself of his situation. He nearly went to go correct her at the name 'Irenic', but thought better of it and that would be a conversation for a different day if she hasn't realized already that he's not exactly the same man he used to be. Her embrace was met with his own wrapping tightly around her shoulders in a secure hug while those marvelous wings follow suit. Even the soft movement of that injured wing cause a wince and soft grunt of pain. "Shhhh. It's okay now...." he attempted to soothe her mind, but the darkness on his tone didn't help; don't get me wrong - he means what he says, but it's like he sounds determined to make someone - anyone to pay for her suffering. When she spoke again of him not forgetting her a soft chuckle vibrated in his chest, "Doing that would be no easy task.... Just ask Valen." His wings stayed around her but he put only a sliver of distance between them so he may place a hand on under her chin to gently command her attention up to him. That devilish smirk was still there among the hint of wrinkles by those bi-colored eyes, but there was something else - something dark is turning behind his eyes; not that she would have to worry about her own well being, but possibly the well being of anyone else. His eyes catch the sight of the bite on her neck, "Who did that? Are you.... Turned?" His expression is hard to read on what answers would upset him if at all.

Valrae found herself being wrapped in the comfort of Irenic's wings. She was always overwhelmed with how safe and small she felt, being surrounded so completely. The grunt of pain didn't go unnoticed, nor did the tone of the Avian's voice. Again the witch was struck with the feeling that something was... Different for him. Something had changed and the thought made her uneasy. She was gently but firmly made to look up at him. Her golden hair was a waving mess around her, framing her pale face to cascade over her shoulders and down the curve her back. Her eyes were almost too large, too dark and red from crying, without her usual kohl to line them. Her lips were swollen slightly from the kisses they had shared. She tilted her head now, sending her worrisome hair into her eyes, and looked at the man quizzically. There was no fear in her eyes or her heart but she was beginning to think she wasn't so far from the Beauty of her story. Perhaps this Beast was already in his beautiful disguise. Before she could ask, Irenic mentioned the mark on her neck. Truthfully, she'd forgotten the thing. Her hand went to it now, touching it absently. "Turned? No." The witch blinked away the feeling of dread that filled her stomach at the thought. "Valen, when he saved me... He was hurt, had used more magic than he should have." She dropped her hand. "I offered," She added quickly, as to not upset him. "I felt it was the least I could do..."

Irenic let there be a quiet moment between them as his gaze took its time tracing every feature of her face the way he does as if cementing everything to memory. "Very kind of you." He wasn't sure how to feel exactly. His aversion to vampires is strong though Lady Dragana and Valen has won a spot on the other side of things and have become the exception to the rule thus far. His hand gently raised up on that side of her to push her hair out of the way as he lowered himself so he may gently lay kisses around the area on her neck. Again, he had to remind himself of things and he ends the kissing at her jaw while his hands gently smooth over her shoulders down her upper arms. He hates to ruin the mood and trifle with menial matters, but for her peace of mind he knows he should ask, "Is there anyone at all that should know of your escape. Someone that won't turn you in, in the end." He didn't seem exactly elated to ask. He wouldn't care whoever the answer may be and his bi-colored gaze was back on her expression, how her eyes showed she must be tired. He slips one arm around her waist to pull her against his form once more while the other hand caressed her hair back and cupped at the nape of her neck to bring her in for another passionate kiss as it seems he can't stop getting enough of her. If she accepted the kiss again he would lift her from the desk once more and carry her off to her room which he attempted to decorate like it was when he saw it at the Inn. As gently as he could he would lay her out on her bed and gently place himself next to her. He was unsure of her feelings for him and maybe sleeping with her would be too forward for her, but his intention was to make her feel safe and protected.

Valrae shuffled consciously under his gaze. Nervously, she tucked a stand of golden hair behind her ear. If she were being honest, the witch considered letting Valen drink from her one of the bravest things she'd ever done. Her own aversion to vampires was one that had been nurtured by the belief, misguided as it were, that turning could cause one to lose their ability draw magic from the earth. Irenic was pressing kisses around the bite now and her mind switched off. A sigh escaped her lips when he ended the moment suddenly. She blinked sleepily up at him... And then frowned. Hudson. His name opened a bloody, terrible wound in her heart. Valrae sighed again and ran a nervous hand through her hair. "I..." She what? What could she say about Hudson to the man in front of her now? 'Please, let me write to my former lover and tell him I'm okay,'. No, she couldn't do that to him... And she couldn't think about that. Suddenly, she realized that too much time had passed. Finally she said, "Ah, maybe there is but could we think of that another time?" It seemed he was already reading her mind though, because he had swept her up again. She tried to return the kiss, but it felt like she was lying to him somehow. They made it back to the room he'd decorated for her. It made her feel even more guilt for looking at it now. When they were situated comfortably in the bed she turned her self toward him. For a long moment she just looked at him over the fan of her sunny hair. She studied his face and the injuries he took to get her here, safe with him. "I don't deserve you." She said finally.

Irenic only laid next to her on his back, if she wanted to be closer she can make it so as he places his own hands behind his head. His gaze fixates on the ceiling as he can feel her gaze on him and only hint at the guilt she was, still is, feeling when it isn't even necessary and he will explain why, "Valrae," He started with a glance out the side of his eye, the good and seeing one anyway. "I'm not sure you fully realize the type of person I am, but that is neither here or there. I don't care why you were jailed or if it was even justified, no one that I am determined to protect will stay in such a place." His slowly returning smirk continues to cast up at the ornate ceiling while one of his long legs bend at the knee, the one opposite her while his wings shift to tuck further under himself. His little lecture starts out with that gruff tone somehow sounding even more scholarly than any previous time spent together. Someone could note that it may be evident of his mental shift at this point, "I don't ascertain that I need to express my age to you, all of what I've witnessed and all of what I've done unto others. Yet, you've concluded that - it is you who doesn't deserve a man without a 'member'?" The words he said and finally admitted to her are horrifying to imagine, but it's his devil may care attitude about the situation that may be confusing. "One thing about myself that I rarely care to explain, simply because I don't usually seek to get this close to people, is that I am not a jealous person, I will not compete with others for someone's affections and I never chase after a woman." Some of what he says may have been worded in bad light, but it's all edging to a point, "So, you see, there is probably not much you could do, past, present or future to change my feelings for you seeing as they prevailed through unlocking my memories of Edlin and if you would want some insight on how difficult that was to do, just ask Valen." A low and short chuckle was given, "And as far as you know I am still slave to Lady Dragana… Or Larewen." His tone became a little darker, a touch scarier maybe, "And although Larewen and my relationship sort of shift and change the more time presses on, the less I am a slave and more of a willing participant. I choose to continue to serve under her with my pledge of allegiance out of respect and because, above all, she saved my life… So, it is not you who doesn't deserve I… It is possibly the other way around." The ending of that sentence sounds like it should be sad, but his continued tone and smirk prove he doesn't really care of his own plight. "You are thoroughly an alluring soul and, from what I hear, quite the powerful witch, too. So! You deserve whatever it is you want… I am satisfied with just holding your attention and affections from time to time."

Valrae liked the warm, safe feeling that enveloped her when Irenic implied that he was determined to protect her. Disliked the way he implied that he wasn't entirely interested in her the way she was to him. By the time he was done talking she felt as if she might have emotional whiplash. It was an awful lot to take in. The witch was tired and hungry and unsure if she had enough mental strength to full comprehend or navigate the conversation correctly. All she knew was that she wanted to wiggle closer to the man next to her and hold on to someone real while she slept. So, without reply she wiggled closer. Slowly, while giving him a pouting, playfully questioning look she moved to curl her body next to him and rest her head on his shoulder. "Ir- Edli... Ah, Irenic. Whatever name you want to go by.. I'm not sure of anything in my life right now. Cenril was the only place I've ever known and I'm still not fully accepting that I may never be on those beaches again..." She faded off distractedly, a worried and sad look crossing her bruised face. "And I feel like I'm starting my life all over, only now I don't understand the world around me. It's scary and it's frustrating and the only thing that makes sense to me right now is this..." Val waved a hand between them. "You and me. Just being together, that's the only part of my old life I have left. You're the only part of my life I have left." Her voice shook, so she took a moment to collect herself and blink the tears that were forming away. "I don't know what comes next but... I... I need you."

Irenic was quiet in his listening of her and hanging on her every word and when she came closer he replied with his arm around her caressing slowly up and down her back. "I will go by whatever you wish to call me, Valrae." His arms would ease her in closer and her head may now rest on her chest allowing him to place a kiss on the top of her head where the part in her hair is. His hand opposite her would come around and hold her close at her waist in offering as much comfort as he possibly could for the night for he has a bit of bad news. "I want you to sleep well tonight because you and I have to do a bit of traveling." He didn't know why he felt the urge to sugar coat it - they were fugitives at the moment, "There is a war coming and hopefully it will be distraction enough, but we have to move around a bit until everyone fails to remember the name Valrae…" The hand on her waist gently caresses up her arm and softly runs through her gold locks. "I will be with you every step of the way and I promise above all else I will protect you… Although I want you to not hold too much of a high expectation for me beyond that… It's been a long time since I've felt this way for someone and I am by no means perfect… Even though I will try." His words kind and the sentiment felt foreign on his tongue, but he knew that is not really what women want to hear and if he wanted to start out lying he would woo her until tomorrow, but he felt the need to be wholly honest with her.

Valrae was filled with warmth and happiness as he allowed her to curl herself around him. He smelled like her home, of salty ocean air and damp sand, so while she felt safe and small it was edged with a homesickness that made her chest ache. The witch thought for a moment on the trouble of his name, her brow furrowing in effort. Should she call him Edlin to show she accepted his past and the new man that was emerging from the way that past was merging with the person Irenic had become? Or should she keep Irenic, for fondness of the new memories they had made together? The witch couldn't decide on a finally answer so she would sleep on it. The news of them traveling was more welcome than he seemed to anticipate, though she tried not to show it. It worried her that he might be uprooting his whole life to keep her safe. It also worried her that she had no idea that any sort of war was taking place. The kiss he pressed to the top of her head had a sleepy, girlish smile curving her lips. The way he was rubbing her back had her struggling to keep her eyes open. "I'm going to wait until tomorrow to try and talk you out of going on the run with me if that's okaaa-?" A yawn interrupted her. Val gave him a sheepish, apologetic smile. "You shouldn't let me ruin your life but right now I'm selfish enough to be happy you're willing too." She yawned again and this time she kept her eyes closed. "Edlin... Irenic. This is going to be a problem." Would be the last thing she muttered before dropping off into a blissful sleep.