Calladastina watched him as he undressed with a fierceness to shed his armoury and clothing. She was pleased with his naked form and wondered why a healer had not magically tended to his numerous wounds where scars now plainly stood. Still, the man was vibrant and vital and ready to enter her. She smiled and began to undo the buttons of her dark gown. She stepped out of the dress and picked it up and placed it on one of the chairs. Calladastina then removed her undergarments and placed them atop the gown. She stood with only his pretty, silver token about her arm, her fair skin illuminated and dappled in shadow by the numerous candles in the chamber (those still aflame since some were extinguished by the spirits).
She stepped forward and then Connor moved to her and she felt his mouth pressing hotly onto hers and she lost herself in the possession. He held her hard and she wondered if she'd bruise, yet she did not care. As they kissed, the breeze surged in uproar and pulling her mouth was the warrior's, she commanded, "Enough! Be gone," and the candle flames grew larger and then all burned out in the sitting room and the two were left in the now quiet dark. Calladastina drew closer to him and whispered against the warrior's mouth, "Come, let us move to my bedchamber. You will remain with me this night," and she grasped his hand in hers and guided him to the staircase where two large candles remained illuminating the wooden treads. They began their short climb up to the top-floor chamber.
Once you make your final response, the scene will fade to black. ;)
”Therefore I wish to take you now – and I wish to make continue to do so until our screams of lust wake the gods, until we are both spent.”
”What do you say to this, Calladastina Honas?” he says, his eyes intent on hers.
Calladastina gasped. His praise of her face and form, as well as her heart and spirit, made the fire inside of her leap and grow, and her eyes shone a deeper grey. The melted wax in the candles began to sizzle/splutter loudly and she stared at him. She was no young maid swooning at a man's attention, yet she was a woman who had long gone without a man's touch and here was a younger, strapping warrior wanting to claim her body and pleasure her. Even the present distractions created by the spirits did not sway him from his goal. She trembled, but not from fear.
"I say let's at it, warrior. I would feel your heat inside me."
”In my land we wear such things higher on the arm, so that all may see them with greater ease,” he says, his voice quiet.
His whispered words hot against the skin of her neck clouded her mind some but not entirely. "In this land, women seldom wear such trinkets higher upon the arm for there is little occasion, too, except for a ball once a year. So, I shall wear it upon my wrist."
Connor wrote:
”If you will permit me, I shall show you where it might press better against you,” he adds...”Now it sits far prettier on your body than when it was merely your wrist...”
She had not given her leave, yet the man has restrained her wrist above her head, albeit gently, still, he has taken such liberty when they were strangers yet.
Connor wrote:
”Tell me truly, lady; do you not wish to see how it shimmers on your body as I do without this dress to hinder your view?” he says, leaning in to whisper in her right ear.
"The dress does not hinder and I have looking glass to see the trinket where you have placed it. But I cannot wear it so high - and it will be worn upon my wrist as is custom, here," she repeated herself as the warrior sought to touch her body, liberally and slowly.
"You take such liberties, Connor son of Ceorl." Calladastina tugged at her held wrist as she was done with being pressed against the wall and held in place. Here grey eyes began to shine a brighter silver in the flickering candlelight. The sound of the breeze picked up and wound wildly about the warrior in main.
Connor wrote:
”Simply tell me where you desire me to place it next, and I shall press it there as firm or gently as you desire," he adds, then his teeth nip her earlobe softly.
She felt Connor's teeth lightly graze her lobe as his hand splayed her lower back and a deep shiver ran through her at the brazen intimacy. For a warrior, he was not rough or forceful and seemed to be playing some drawn-out seduction. Her body reacted without will, yet her mind attempted to waylay him as the breeze grew more earnest in its distraction.
"Upon my wrist is fine, Connor son of Ceorl", she repeated herself thrice, not entirely certain what the warrior expected from her this night.
She tugged at his light hold and freed her wrist and with both hands then pushed at his broad, muscled chest until she was no longer pressed into the wall.
"Enough of this talk of pressing the bracelet elsewhere. Tell me, what is it you seek this night? No more games. Tell me earnestly or I shall simply thank you for the gift and ask you to leave." Her breath was affected by his nearness and the long, blue look he fixed upon her. The candlelight continued to flicker in time with her breath and another two candles extinguished and the breeze blew faster yet around the warrior.
"The black is a good color for you; it makes your skin look more fair and your eyes now look like the sea," he says to her.
He moves forward to her slowly, watching her and making sure he does not startle her as he approaches.
"I do not know fully the southern customs; I do not mean to offend you in your own home, but I like looking at you," he adds with the same quiet voice.
It slowly dawned on Calladastina that the warrior was earnestly showing his interest as suitor. He was large and dangerous, but he touched her with a restrained gentleness as if gauging and waiting for her consent. No man had ever declared his delight in looking upon her person and she inwardly admitted to herself that she revelled in the quiet declaration.
A scratching could be heard against the wooden shutters of the window in the sitting room. Calladastina's eyes did not move from the warrior's fixed gaze as she knew well enough the source of the sound.
Connor wrote:
Then, as he holds her hand by his face, his free hand reaches into his pouch and he takes out a silver bracelet he purchased earlier that day and holds it up in the candlelight.
"I saw this today and wished to make you a gift of it," he says as he continues to watch her...
"I would rather see the silver pressed against your bare skin."
She drew in a sharp breath at his desire to see the bracelet on her bare skin. As Calladastina's heart and pulse quickened, the candlelight began to flicker and a sudden breeze could be felt moving around the chamber and their bodies in close quarters.
Connor wrote:
"Would you let me place my gift upon you?" he asks with the same quiet voice, staring down into her gray eyes, his blue ones bright in the candlelight as he looks at her.
He would lift the sleeve of her dress up her arm to place the pretty bracelet on her wrist - that was what he meant - didn't he? Surely, that is what he meant. Her grey eyes grew larger in the candlelight chamber. The breeze began to give sound as it moved faster around them and the soft light flickered, almost desperate to extinguish.
Calladastina found her voice and she gave a low, husky reply, "You may lift my sleeve and place it upon my wrist. I gladly accept your token, Connor son of Ceorl." She was acutely conscious of how near her fingers were to the man's lips.
At her pronouncement, two of the candles blew out abruptly and the scratching that was on the shutter now became a slight banging as if the wind outside had picked up suddenly.
Meanwhile, the sky was beautiful and he was not the sort to burden himself overmuch with regret. Therefore, he put aside his grim thoughts and advanced to the house of the Undertaker.
When he arrived, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.
The small house was lit from within but there was no ready answer at the door. Just then, Connor sees a moving light coming from the side of the cottage, from the direction of the cemetery. His own torch gives off a dull light and soon he can see the familiar figure of Calladastina. Connor's eyes take in the staff she holds, lit atop with light - magical light - for there is no flame or smoke.
When she notes you, Calladastina looks surprised, like she did the first time you came unannounced to her house. She smooths down the black skirt of her dress and pushes a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. She stops a few feet from Connor, near to the front door.
"Good evening, Connor son of Ceorl. You surprise me with your visit. Come, follow me inside and you can tell me why you have come this night."
She moves toward the door and taking her key unlocks it and enters, waiting for Connor to follow, so she may close the door after him. The house is cloaked in shadows except for the candlelight flickering all about the hallway and sitting room. The woman says a few quiet words and the light atop her staff blinks out within a few moments.
Calladastina turns her grey-eyed gaze on the tall warrior and gestures for him to enter the sitting room.
"Now, please tell me, why are you here, Connor son of Ceorl?" The woman dressed entirely in black regards Connor earnestly, her grey eyes fixed on his handsomely-rugged face.
”For now, I hope this shall keep you warm,” he says with a soft voice, yet he seems to check a sudden thought and then places the bottle of wine in her hands.
He pulls back from her, and seems to remember his manners as a guest in another’s house and seems to relax a little.
”Perhaps we shall have the chance to talk again soon, Calladastina Honas. I think that maybe that might be a good talk, if you do not mind my company...”
Calladastina held the wine bottle in both hands as to steady her quickening heartbeat. The bright-eyed warrior's gaze was fully on her in the shadowed sitting room. She had not immediately realised the intimacy of their current circumstance, and, though his eyes were bright and studied her intently, his words were polite and respectable. Still, his presence seemed to fill the humble chamber - the man's height and vigour commanded one's attention.
"Ye-s", Calladastina stammered softly from her place in the chair. He seemed even bigger standing before her. "If you mean to stay in town a little longer, then I am certain our paths will cross at some point. Take care walking back to the inn", and she almost groaned for the man looked capable enough to handle himself. She attempted to stand and at first could not for he was right before her. But as he made his way to the door, she stood and followed, extending courtesy to a guest on their departure.
"Good night", and she could not help it but her face suddenly felt hot and her cheeks were flushed like a school girl's as she watched Connor step out and begin walking back down the path to the road and the direction of The Wise Piper. She closed and latched the door and then realised she was still holding onto the wine he had given her. Calladastina's heart still beat quickly in her chest and she placed the bottle down on the sideboard and then took her candle and climbed the stairs to her bedchamber - a myriad of thoughts tumbling through her mind. What an unusual and eventful night...
As you can see The Sunset House is just off the Old Quarry Road - which means you have to trek back from where you just came from. On the map the Undertaker's House is #25.
Calladastina rose from her bed at the sound of the bell at her door. She lit a candle and put on a house coat and wondered who had died this night, for she seldom had social visitors at this hour.
She opened the door and discovered with some surprise the bright-eyed warrior from the caravan lot standing at the threshold, wine in hand. She was struck mute for a moment before she said, "How may I help you, Connor son of Ceorl?"
Once ushered inside, the warrior asked his questions. She was curious why he had to have such answers at this time of night but she gave him answers just the same.
"No local has ever died in the river. We teach our children from young to mind the river and respect it. The only danger it poses would be the cold water contained within. The water flows down from the mountains - both from the Fog Peaks and The World's Edge Mountains - and is fresh but the temperature is not comfortable especially at night or early morning hours. The river is filled with deeper holes and pockets and when the shadows fall across the water it is hard the gauge depth. Thus, unwise to swim or cross at night when there is no light with which to see."Is this not common for most rivers across the land?, she silently pondered. Did someone tell the warrior that the river had killed some of the townsfolk? "Delfi was found on the river as babe, but as you have seen for yourself she is hale and thriving."
"As to the flooded Old Quarry, there were ten deaths when the tremors first hit and two of the mineshafts caved in, trapping some of the miners under all the stone and wood. It does not help that the old quarry is right near a wetland. Nasty business."
She sat down on an old recliner and drew her house coat about her as the fire has been doused earlier and the chamber was now a little chilly.
"As to any connection - there is none. So, it seems you have come all this way for naught, Connor son of Ceorl. Is there anything else I can answer for you before I bid you good night?"
