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Post by Jaiden Liatris-Durante (D) on Feb 4, 2007 8:19:14 GMT -5
The stars shone mercilessly down on me as I galloped through the reveling City. The rush of wind, the sharp peal of iron-shod hooves, my heartbeat thundering in my ears and the wordless song of battle were all I heard. I ignored the cries of protest and curses from those forced from my path. I was my namesake, a blazing star descending to meet my foe.
Elton... the betrayal of it still hurt, fueled the anger in my chest. And yet it kindled something to life I didn't want to look at just yet. He had conspired with Aleron, he had lied to me, he had tricked me and then provoked me into this further madness. He wanted a duel, this mockery of a Holmgang, he would get it.
I clattered into the courtyard of the villa, my shout bringing a sleepy stable hand to gather Frost's reigns. His eyes widened seeing me sitting astride, the hiked up skirt and my bare legs. I glared at his as I dismounted. He cast his eyes to the ground and hurriedly led Frost away. I stalked to the salle, I knew that's were he would be. For only a moment I debated on whether I should change from the gown or not. Too much wasted time, I could fight well enough in the skirts, a quick rent down the side seams should give me enough freedom of motion. I'd have to fight in bare feet, damn heels, I should have just worn boots as no one ever looks at my feet.
The salle was dark, as dark as any room with dozens of tall, narrow windows on a full moon night could be. Pale bars crossed the floor, and standing in one of them was Elton, cool and poised as always. It took only a moment to take in and analyze the scene.
Between him and I was a large square of what I could only assume was leather, staked carefully around the edges. He must have been planning this, had outside help to set this up, because not a chance in Kushiel's Hell could he have done all this in the short lead he had. Steel glinted in the center of the square. Svellmaer, cold and deadly, lay next to Elton's Bastard sword. He'd told me the name once, when we were young. Something from myth... I waved it off. I needed to focus.
I strode to the edge of the ring, shrugged my cloak from my shoulders. Next came the clever pins on the dress, stiff material hissing as it crumpled to the floor. The dagger slid from the clever sheath and I made to cut the side seams when Elton's voice stopped me.
"If you flip up the hem there should be a half dozen ties on each side that go up to mid thigh. More convenient than trying to use that blade." He was right. With both sides undone I'd have as much freedom of movement as in pants. Would just have to be careful not to twist the fabric around my legs while fighting. I was impressed, and even more angry.
"And what are your terms, Chevalier? You've planned everything else." Would I kill him, or just hurt him? I silently weighed my options.
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Post by Elton Tulare-Durante (D) on Feb 5, 2007 8:42:54 GMT -5
I had used the few minutes lead to fetch the blades and collect myself. The salle was cool and dim, Le Clerc had done exactly as I had asked, I was pleased. Jaiden was furious, the cold glint of steel against her dress at the party, the chilling laugh that had followed me through the gardens and across the City streets.
This was the only way. Her pride would accept nothing less. Without a duel, and without my complete victory, she would hate me, would find any way to back out from this marriage. If she lost in a fair fight, her pride and honor would make her stay. Reason wouldn't work, and fear motivated her now. I was the perfect husband for her. I didn't want her land or power, just her heart. And that was where the crux of the problem came.
My attention was riveted on her as she stormed in, air fair crackling with her force. She was beautiful in her rage, vital and compelling. A small part of me was even scared, but I pushed it away. I had nothing to lose, for if she won, little would be worth living for without her.
"Five touches, no crippling wounds, winner is awarded a boon that the other cannot deny if it is within their power to grant." She looked ready to speak, I knew the question she would ask.
"Fine." I was surprised, I expected her to argue, at the least ask me to explain. I hid it behind my usual stoicism.
She walked barefoot into the center of the square, reverently lifted Svellmaer as I did the same. Skaoi felt familiar in my hands, and extension of my self. We faced each other, prepared. Her lips split in a feral grin as she saluted me with her blade and I couldn't help the surge of determination I felt.
I was going to win.
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Post by Jaiden Liatris-Durante (D) on Feb 7, 2007 9:18:01 GMT -5
It began as always, the rush of emotion followed by calm. A mental step inside oneself to the place where focus and motion met, the inner most circle. My hands began to tingle as the surely gripped the hilt, a small smile played on my lips. This, and only this is what I truly lived for, the ultimate high of feeling alive and in control, a work of art in my hands and death swiftly delivered.
The duel began. Twin shadows circling in the moon draped darkness, the hiss and rustle of fabric as we moved. We circled closer until the first abrupt clash of steel on steel rang out, startling in the silence. Post, parry, riposte, slash, back, we flowed through the familiar forms like water. We were well matched and it irritated me. Or was it the look of absolute concentration on Elton's face that looked too much like conviction?
I didn't like it, or trust him. Scoring the first touch went a long way to easing that fear. A light tap on his left side, no blood, not yet, not even rent material. In a real fight it wouldn't have killed him, just hampered him. I danced back and couldn't help the smile, the laugh.
"Are you sure of this Elton? You know I'm better than you with a blade. And you must know what my boon will be." A fight was about more than just skill, it was about shaking your opponent from their inner circle and into chaos. I was going to win.
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Post by Elton Tulare-Durante (D) on Feb 7, 2007 9:30:59 GMT -5
I'd felt the touch, but didn't let it shake me. She was the better swordsman. Countless times she'd proven it, her agility, her swiftness, hell, even the brute force that slender body could deliver with a single blow.
"Hmm, I'm sure it's no great surprise what you'll ask for, or rather freedom from...wife." I nicked her bare arm, just below the left shoulder. A dark line of blood dripped down her hand. Fury darkened her face. So, she didn't like to be reminded that she was my wife?
The fighting really commenced now, dirty and crude, gone the rigid forms and practiced movements. Twice more she scored, this time leaving blood, a minor wound on my chest and a cut to the left thigh. I had marked her as well, the rent across her flat belly and another hit to the left arm. My breathing was ragged, and even though we were even, I still felt that bone deep assurance that I could not fail, that this was meant to be. Besides, the insanity still hadn't worn off.
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Post by Jaiden Liatris-Durante (D) on Feb 12, 2007 6:41:30 GMT -5
Gone was the mocking gaiety, the verbal sparing. I fought with grim determination. How the bastard had shaken me so easily from my inner stillness was unnerving. I was supposed to be ice, inviolate. Wife, he called me...
But truth be told, he was only the last nudge. I'd felt this coming for months now, the gradual wobble in my once perfect orbit around serenity and ice. I was loosing the thing I had fought to hard to gain; an iron grip on my emotions. I'd managed this for YEARS! Why now? Why him! Why any of this? The change could be blamed on Aleron, and I'd probably take a few strips out of his hide for duping me into this marriage. But in all truth, this had started before him, by coming here to the City.
The fourth touch came as I was lost in thought, mooning about the loss of my perfect control. Damnation! Another trickle of blood seeping down my skin.I retaliated, used a dirty trick taught to me by my father. I feinted a blow to the face, ducked low and tapped him on the boot as I moved past and around him. Elton spun to face me, expression serene. Bastard wasn't even breathing hard.
We circled warily, guards up and cautious. This was the deciding moment. And by Camael and his blade I was not going to lose! I moved in for the last touch.
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Post by Elton Tulare-Durante (D) on Feb 12, 2007 7:12:18 GMT -5
She engaged me again, coming at me with all the determination of her nature. Many men had fallen beneath that grim stare, met the end of their lives under her steel. I was not afraid. How can one fear their own heart?
I ducked under her attack, her own momentum carried her close to me, close enough to come in under her guard, slide my blade along hers until the quillions met. One hand left my blade to grab her wrist, locking it immobile. The other twisted, ripped both blades from our grips. I used her trapped hand to bear us both to the salle floor in a thrash of limbs and ire. She fought as one possessed, punching and gouging wherever she could reach. I used my empty hand to find the dagger at her waist.
She only stilled at the feel of cold steel at her throat. I lay half upon her, pinning one hand above her head, braced on the other elbow and holding the slender blade steady against her pulse. Her pale hair was a corona around her face, immobile in it's resignation. Her dark eyes weren't shocked, as I expected them to be. Mesmerized, I watched the faintest tremble on her lips. Was this how Camael felt upon subduing Skaoi? This amazed tenderness? The gravitational pull to kiss her?
Yes.
I dropped the blade and gripped the back of her head, hauling her up to my mouth. Her kiss was angry, tasting of wine and defeat. I gentled it, coaxed her lips to open more fully, stroked the recesses of her mouth with my tongue. The soft moan I tasted could have been mine, but I wasn't quite sure. I pulled back, held once again in her dark stare and whispered against her skin.
"My boon is this; you will hold to the agreement set forth in the contract. You will let me be your husband, your consort, the father of your children. I will even let you go at the end of the agreed upon time, if that is still your wish. But you must hold true to it in your heart, not just to the letter. " I eased up on her, letting her limbs free, moving my bulk to the side so she was no longer trapped. I had won, a small concession, but the choice was still hers, I could not force her to accept this, only hope.
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Post by Jaiden Liatris-Durante (D) on Feb 12, 2007 7:26:56 GMT -5
I was defeated, shamed and trapped. I should be angry, should shove him off me and beat that beloved face into oblivion. I should free myself right now.
But there would be no honor in it.
"Agreed." the word was calmly uttered even though I felt no such stillness. I watched Elton rise, looked at the hand he offered to me. For once I took it, letting him pull me to my feet.
Husband. How strange the word tasted on my lips. And how much it hurt that he had gained the empty title through betrayal. I wanted to hurt him in return, for forcing me to this, for making me accept it. We stood silently in a bar of light, hands still clasped.
"You're dismissed as Captain of my guard. Le Clerc will take over the position. As Duc Consort, your rooms will adjoin mine, so your present quarters should be vacated and given over to the new Captain." He dropped my hand as if I scalded him, his quiet, indrawn breath the only sound of his pain. Good.
He stepped back, bowed formally, "As my Lady Wife commands." I watched him melt into the shadows. Was I petty? Yes. Was I cruel? Often. Did I love him still?
Much, to my dismay.
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