ADALAIDE DE SAUVETERRE
BOLVERK THE SMITH
[/b]"[/color] It was quiet in the shop, but he was sure business was good enough. That charming grin pulled on his firm lips as the ends of his hair were damp and clung to his cloak.
"Since business is slow, might I steal some of your time for yet another wondrous favor?" While his eyes did not leave her form, he had looked over the interior like he always did. Bolverk was one to note when things had been moved around or new items seemed to appear. Years of training did not simply vanish. [/ul]
ADALAIDE DE SAUVETERRE[/b]" She liked fixing up the men around here. There was always a niggling suspicion that she liked fixing them up for the pleasure of seeing them shirtless, but few minded, when they had ample time to take in Ada while she circled them, tutting, occasionally writing something down in the big book she kept in the back room. "
Tea?" she asked, looping her arm through his as she escorted him around the counter and into the back room. Her still operated here, quiet today, as she had nothing worth brewing, though the ghosts of herbs long past still lingered in a strong, herbal odor that had more than a whiff of alcohol and medicine working within the other scents tickling the nose. She kept a kettle on most days, filling it with water from the pump out back, since both she and Marcelline drank enough tea for the entirety of Turas Lan. A multi-functional room holding both crates of supplies, the still, a cot for patients she wanted to observe overnight before either sending them home or shipping them up to the infirmary, and chairs for sitting by the fire to warm up after a particularly blustery Scottish day, Ada indicated he should sit on the cot while she gathered up the bag of her supplies. She gave him a look out of the corner of her eyes, judging his posture and breathing, his pallor and if he followed her around. Since he had walked here of his own accord, she doubted the injury was particularly serious. So she took a seat beside him on the cot. "
So? How are you doing? What is this favor?" [/ul]
BOLVERK THE SMITH[/b]"[/color] He teased lightly as Ada lead him about the shop. Eyes lingered on the shelves and how Ada had set herself up in here. She liked order, labels and herbs. Those were easy things to target in on. The scent of the blood was no doubt lingering lightly in the air around him, but it would not be until he minor turned his back to her, that she would see part of the true damage. It ached and stung, but Bolverk had far worse then slashes before. They were nothing compared to things lodged within the muscle and tissue. Hands set down his cloak at the end of the cot, with his triangle hat to be lain on top of them. Reaching for the end of his tunic, he lifted it up high from his head and peeled it from his aching back. Blood had poured down tanned muscles and soaked into the top of his breeches. The gash was clean across his entire upper back and down from a sword made in Japan, which had been a quick slice though large enough to get him good with only that one. A good inch or two deep, it would no doubt need stitches.
"It only stings a little. I was lucky it was such a clean cut." Turning around, he sat down gently on the cot, making sure it would support his heavy weight. Abs crunched under the pressure of his stomach bending for a moment before he sat up straight to show that hair dusted and powerful chest breathing normally.
"I can always go to the infirmary, but I felt it would take a great deal of work and much rather have the pleasant flirtation of conversation with it."[/ul]
ADALAIDE DE SAUVETERRE[/b]" She grinned as long as he seemed fine with the injury, and helped him to lie down on his stomach after he'd had enough to drink. She moved around the room, picking up the things she would need, before returning to his side. She drew a lit lamp closer, turned up the wick so that his back was flooded with light, and began dabbing at the wound with a slightly water-dampened cloth so that she could see what she was doing. "
Oh, you know I'll clean you up and put you on the right path, and nothing truly beats the convenience of having me just a few shops down," she quipped as she straddled his back, finding that angle an easier one to work at. Despite the awkwardness of skirts, the cot was a sturdy thing that supported her weight, rather than putting it upon Bolverk. A splash of whiskey to the cloth, and she warned him it might sting a "little" before dabbing at the edges of the wound. "
You're a better patient than I, Bolverk. I cannot stand having my back touched. Ticklish, you know," she teased, and dabbed on a clear, sterile liquid along the edges of the wound. She stood up and stretched, and began preparing her sutures. If he took notice, the liquid seemed to numb the skin along his back. It was a creation Ada was quite proud of, though it had taken years to perfect. When she returned above him, she gave his skin a poke with the needle to see if he was properly numbed, and then began her work, humming as she stitched and dabbed with the alcohol-soaked cloth, until he had a nice line of neat, tidy stitches running up along the wound, and a coating of a thick, goose-grease-based salve dabbed on. She covered the whole thing with a few lines of lavender-infused linen, made certain the edges were secure, and she was finished [/ul]
BOLVERK THE SMITH[/b]"[/color] Lay down? Bolverk perked a thick brow up, but twisted his body so he could lay upon his stomach. The drink was taken in before hand and the cup placed down on the ground. Bolverk enjoyed pain, so dulling it would not matter. Once he was laying on his stomach, both massive arms shifted to go partly under the cot so he could wrap thick fingers along the legs of it. It made his biceps flex, but not strain. Eyes closed while he listened to Ada move around. There was no noise in his hut anymore when he was going to bed, no lights from Lucius up reading late. It was lonely in many ways. Bolverk was starting to feel it sink in all too well, but times like these help fill some of the void. Ada was indeed a woman who did risky things. He felt her shif over his lower back, then the weight of her's settled onto him. The warmth from her thighs made goosebumps break out all over his back and arms while his eyes opened slowly as that thick tongue moved out to lick his lips. Was she wearing a undergarment under that skirt? He shifted a bit to try and find out before remaining still. An attempt to feel a brush of hairs or smoothness.
"It is indeed lucky in more then one way. As for being ticklish, every man is also, just not in the place most touch. Thank you for giving me inside information. I shall use it against you well my dear Ada." The damp cloth did not hurt, but he could feel the light pressure of it. It was starting to go numb, which worried him more then feeling it. The sting had felt strangely good, though no moan came from his lips. A tingling sensation took over, then that damn numbness came back again. Next time he would tell her not to numb it. It was only when Ada started to humn, that Bolverk closed his eyes again and listened to the sound of her working. She was in her own mind and he was just fine outside looking in. Time passed and Ada's hands were doing wonders though he could barely feel it in certain areas. When she said she was finished, his eyes opened and he focused on one of the many supplies that were found in the back area.
"Thank you Ada. I may come back for you to check on it from time to time until it is fully healed. The last thing I need is an infection." Before Ada could move from over him, he reached behind him and grabbed her leg softly.
"Stay as you are. Speak with me a bit. Tell me of...you business this season."[/ul]
ADALAIDE DE SAUVETERRE[/b]" He did have a nice back. She had full view of it from her present position, his shoulders flexed slightly, as he was just a little bit bigger than her cot. She could see where each of the muscle groups joined, and wondered if he had ever seen the body mapped out as she had, where muscle joined tendon joined bone, and the elaborate pathways blood made beneath the skin. It was a marvelous thing, knowing how his subscapular held his arm just so, and all the smaller muscles worked in such minute ways to uphold his posture. Even with the bandage upon his back, she was amused with how perfect the form was. "
I will look at it any time. Ah, my shop? Well, business is fine. Customers come for advice and simple cures, but I think most of them now go to the infirmary. Most want someone to talk to, a person to confirm their suspicions. Or those in search of cures for something," Ada grinned, and it was evident in her voice that she was close to laughter, "
medicine has not yet offered a cure for. You would be surprised at how many salves I sell for firming the breasts and improving the skin, teas for weight loss and beauty, potions for a man to grow a beard or keep the hair upon his head. I love all my customers, though. Stars should find me in such a situation, I would like an apothecary who will listen to what is important for me. You seem very busy yourself. Have an interesting project recently?" [/ul]
BOLVERK THE SMITH[/b]"[/color] His hand idly rubbed along her bare thigh just above the knee, for that was as far as he could reach at this angle.
"My business has been very good to me and mine. I enjoy the projects that some people bring me, even if some are not possible the way they see it. I have had a few interesting request for blades with designs, even a retractable one that hides in the boot. Others, I would have to kill you if I told you." He mused. Listening to her, he was trying to egg on another laughter because it sounded so pleasant to the ears.
"I did want to ask you something. The other night at the tavern, what interest did you find in my hands? I know you are a woman of strange things, but never had I seen you take such interest in a limb you were not healing."[/ul]
ADALAIDE DE SAUVETERRE[/b]" She felt his fingers nudge a little higher along her thigh, as high as his arm could feasibly bend, and grinned. Were not their situation so awkward, how much higher would he go? "
I do keep the confidence of all who walk through my door; they deserve nothing less. So I would not ask you about their preferences for blades. Every person on this isle seems to have such definitive ideas of a blade that fits their style and personality. Lady Inveryne has a stiletto blade. Seems more wicked than a fine lady needs, but what do I know of fine ladies?" With a little twinkle that he couldn't see in her dark eyes, she let her hands drift down upon his back, until they were spread, fingers splayed, along the uninjured flesh. The cream she had used to numb his back for the stitches would be almost completely beyond effect by now, and she avoided anything that would stretch his skin or pull at the stitches. They merely rested, heating his flesh as his had the effect of heating her thigh. "
I heal more than skin and bone, you know," she said quietly, leaning slightly to the left to meet his eye. "
That is peculiar in itself. Mmm no, I am a tactile woman, I like to touch things. I judge a man by his hands. What he has done with them in his life, if he has used them well. Was it too intimate?" [/ul]
BOLVERK THE SMITH[/b]"[/color] Her question about if it was too intimate made him pause. For a moment, it seemed as if he would not answer, but then he shifted. Either Ada would get up, or she would lift herself only enough for him to shift himself on the cot. His ached in protest as he laid back on it for a moment, then sat up making those powerful abs crunch once more. Had Ada gotten up, he would grab her and pull her into his lap. If she adjusted to stay over him, he would have curled his arms around her back and held his hands gently at the small of her spine. Just to keep someone close and maybe because he wanted to share something with someone. He had told his son a few years ago, only bits about his mother. Not everything.
"The last person who took the time to play with my hands was my wife. It was only intimate because it has not been done in such a long time. That is my fault to bare, for I could take another wife. Maybe a generous woman who tends to my every need? Yet I don't seek it. Taking out sexual aggression on those I pay seems to work better for me then a wife. Some how, I think you have similar views about marriage?" His dark eyes stared into her own, looking for the shades of brown he knew would be there. Perhaps it was a pay back for her intimate moment with his hands, but Bolverk held her closer so that her breast pressed to his upper chest and her middle tucked against his crotch so she could feel that something had sparked his manhood mid way. [/ul]
ADALAIDE DE SAUVETERRE[/b]" She smiled. And then cleared her throat, because her views on marriage were just distracting. Like the extra bit of pressure against her lower stomach. She resisted the urge to let a brow scoot skyward. "
Why, you listen, of course. What men, and I do not just mean the males among us -- I mean mankind -- wish above all, is to be heard. You are relevant. You are important. You have someone to listen, without interrupting or assuming. An ear to bend, who will smile, and tell you it will get better. Oh, and I give away my trade secrets now, perhaps I shall not let you go." She touched his nose with her index finger, and then let her hand rest between them upon his chest. "
Maybe what I hear is ... not quite what is being said." She looked at him, long and hard. Just a moment longer than was particularly comfortable, with large dark eyes that seemed to miss nothing. "
I made mistakes in the past, yes. Believing any love was better than none. That my heart could take it, that I could heal everyone who came to me for sustenance. But I gave too much, perhaps. I spent a long time recovering. I hurt others without meaning to. My views on marriage -- they are inconsequential, really. I will not be so bound. My views on love, however -- " she smiled brightly. "
Why, I love the world. There are no limits on a woman's affections. Particularly this one's." [/ul]
BOLVERK THE SMITH[/b]"[/color] Most of them he broke with his own hands.
"To see one who had not, makes me love life a little bit more. The world is a big place, but I think you know that." Bolverk still stared into her eyes, wondering if he should let himself open more to someone. Could he trust Ada?
"I have been a single parent for a long time Ada. For a woman, it tends to come more naturally after they bare a child, but I was really lost when Lucius was a babe. I have learned a lot from my son. I think, he is the reason I love the world right now. Why I love being alive. I have done a lot of things that were immoral, but everything I did, has led him to the path he is on. A clan tarnist, married to an extremely beautiful girl. Excepted when I never was."[/ul]
ADALAIDE DE SAUVETERRE[/b]" Ada's admission, that was too private even in this moment, was keeping Genna had been the singularly most selfish decision she had made in the entirety of her life. But loving her was the most selfless action she would ever make. "
Lucius is a lovely boy. No doubt he makes you beam with pride each morn." The minx was back, a twinkling grin cast up at him. "
They justify it all, hmm?" [/ul]
BOLVERK THE SMITH[/b]"[/color] He mused. Lucius...Bolverk could not express how proud he was.
"The best thing about my son is that he is nothing like me. He has my features, but his mind is his very own. I admire and love that about him. Pride, very much so. He married well and for his love. As much as I tried to make him other wise, he was full of virtue. They do in the end." Since the conversation had lingered on a bit, Ada would no longer feel the pressure of Bolverk's manhood under her. Talk calmed a man down often unless the woman was naked. The thought did cross his mind to ask about the father, but it was none of his business.
"I have kept you for some time in this room. Perhaps it is time I let you get back to tending your shop?" He spoke softly [/ul]
ADALAIDE DE SAUVETERRE[/b]" Genna was very stubborn on this point at all of two years old, but Ada supposed it was karma. She must have been the same at that age. Her mother attained sainthood during that realization in Ada's mind, and with a laugh, she rolled to his side, letting a leg curl over his. She remained close, and now had the added luxury of letting her more impulsive nature take over, and allowed her hand to come to a rest just above his breeches, as if it belonged there. She didn't know Bolverk's past, but he didn't know hers. She had shared the extent of it with no one, not even those who claimed to love her most. The one man who knew was dead, as was one who suspected. The other would never admit to it, or lose his kingdom and likely his head in a most violent, unpleasant fashion. Ada kept the world's secrets, but the best was her own, lingering in her heart like an old ghost she enjoyed taking out on occasion, just for the reminder that real pain existed. Everything was relative in Ada's world, and if she had been selfish about keeping her daughter, there were no words to describe her final role before the spring fires four years ago in Paris. She didn't want to think about them, so she didn't, instead fluttering her fingers one after another, like playing a pan flute, on the exposed skin above his breeches. "
Do you want to go back to your shop?" she asked pointedly, her eyes sliding down his body toward her hand, then back up to meet his. It was daring, or perhaps she was admitting she was done listening. Perhaps it was a bit of both. But her hand slid beneath the fabric of his pants, and found what had softened beneath her while he spoke of his son. "/
What if I do not want to let you go?" [/ul]
BOLVERK THE SMITH ADALAIDE DE SAUVETERRE[/b]" Had they really waited so long to act upon this flirtation? She had always admitted it was something she wanted, but even she couldn't figure out why they had taken until now to get anywhere near this point. Perhaps flirtation was half of the fun. He was already proving it was not -- he was a skilled lover, if rough. He wasn't intimidated by her, and knew precisely what he wanted. Ada always respected that in a man. [/ul]
-Pans to the window while moans and the sound of an intimate couple sharing a moment together echo in the distance. Fade to black. -
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