Post by morrigan on Feb 5, 2010 16:44:38 GMT -6
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
The training area was a spite full of angry yells and the clashing of swords or heavy armor. This was one place Michael found solace. It was like the library to a scholar for him. Perched at the top of a stadium like seat, he sat silently and watched two men fight for dominance in the sand pit. Their weapons were dulled, their armor heavy, but it helped prepare them for the real thing. A hand came up to gently push his blonde hair back, revealing a deep cut along the crest of his cheek. Like a river, it made its own path across his face. Yet, he never seemed ashamed of it because like any other soldier, he wore this mark like a medal.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
This was one place Morrigan had never been in all her years in Skye. She would be returning to Heahburg come sunrise, so she decided to take in a few new sights before she left. That diminutive frame, perpetually wrapped in shades of grey, slipped inside; ever dressed as a man, in a dual-layer of tunics, breeches, and sturdy black boots, she might've passed for a young boy, had it not been for the decidedly feminine features and lengthy mahogany braid which trailed down her back. As she came inside, her head tilted, brown eyes peering curiously at the men fighting. But she soon found her way to a seat, high above the rest where few seemed to want to sit. Just how she liked it. The less people she had to interact with, the better.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``You're the woman that Saul speaks of.`` He said, his voice low because he was sitting behind her a few rows. Michael's gaze had lifted from the fight to follow the young woman. He had an intense stare, but the scrutiny behind it wasn't towards her; that could be misinterpreted. He didn't smile, but he did shift closer to her. Eased down in a seat beside her, he glanced back over again.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
Had she been paying any more attention to what was going on below, she might've missed the words. As it was, she just barely caught them, and her eyes widened. She didn't move until he took a seat next to her, and then, her head lowered slightly, arms folding over her stomach. She remembered this man; he'd saved her life, the night Saul was taken. That felt like centuries ago. "..`e speaks o' me?" Her voice was quiet, as always, easy to miss.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``Yes. Speaks of how beautiful you are. I heard once, during our travels east, a song he made in your name.`` He chuckled a bit. ``Be damned if he was as good a warrior as musician, he might have beaten me long ago in a duel much like these.`` He pointed, his hand idly waving in the air before coming back to his side. ``It's hard to miss a pretty face like the one he describes.`` Michael turned his gaze back to the fight below, his features lax and emotionless; the stone tablet of a lifelong soldier. [d]
Morrigan Stirling
Hues the color of rich earth slid closed as the words washed over her, and her throat tightened; you'd think what he said would be a balm to her heart, but all it did was make her miss him more. She'd wrestled with those feelings for the three years she'd been living in Heahburg. Ana had found her place in the lands of the Horse Lord and his wife, working for Eamonn. She spent her days with the horses she loved more than anything, and her nights with friends who were more like family. And yet sometimes, it felt like something was missing. "Dae ye know where 'e is now?" She barely managed to force the question past the lump in her throat.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``No. We were split up during a caravan raid. I haven't seen him in nearly a year. I'm surprised he hasn't returned to see you. Such is the life of a bard, I suppose.`` He didn't look at her, so he couldn't read her expression. He could tell by the strain of her voice, that perhaps she did care for the lad. ``Did you want to find him?`` He looked her way, his eyes narrowing.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
The answer inspired a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. She felt like she should be crying, but her eyes were dry. Morrigan never cried. She did her best to hide her heartache well, especially now as her eyes opened again and her head lifted, turning a dark gaze on him. "A part o' me does, aye. My 'eart wishes fer 'im nightly. But up 'ere.." The calloused tip of index finger tapped her temple. "..I know 'e would likely be 'appier off wanderin' th' world, free like th' birds." Making music and getting in trouble. That was Saul. Beyond traveling from Heahburg to Turas Lan and back, her traveling days were over.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``Some things in life, you just have to take. You can't let them pass by. I know..`` He said. ``It's how I got my wife.`` He chuckled a bit. ``If you wish, I will track him down. He and I have the same connections, it isn't hard for me to find the circles he travels.`` He lifted his gaze from her to look down at his booted feet. He felt like he was pushing himself into this woman's life, but he wanted to help. She seemed.. distant? He couldn't place it.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
Distant was a good way to describe Morrigan, most of the time. She didn't open up to people, and when she could get away with it, she avoided interaction with them. Hope blossomed in her eyes at his offer, but she reined it back in, turning her attention absently on a far point. She wanted so badly to say yes. But fear clawed at her with nails like razors. "I.." She bit her lip. "..I thank ye, but.." She couldn't make herself say the words, and only managed a growl of annoyance at herself.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``As you wish. I should have kept to my business. I didn't mean to intrude.`` He offered her a reassuring smile before coming to stand. ``I hope you take care of yourself.`` He lowered his head as if to nod. Commander St. Laurence made his way down the next seat, then the next. It had not been his intention to make her uncomfortable, yet he succeeded in doing it. Claramae would have the skin of his scalp for pestering young women. [d]
Morrigan Stirling
"W-wait!" She jumped to her feet, reaching out a hand as though to stop him. The sudden movement made her stumble, and she just barely managed to catch herself before taking a fall that would've proved very painful, and possibly fatal. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone brightly. "Could.. could ye per'aps.. get a message tae 'im?" She absently licked her lips, hands falling to curl against her chest. "If'n.. 'tis nay tae much trouble..." She just couldn't let this chance slip through her fingers. She wasn't trying to draw him back to her.. but there was something she had to say.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``Of course.`` He said, stopped by the touch of her hand to his own calloused. Michael had thick arms that only grew larger as he flexed, yet as stalwart a man as he; he turned by the mere touch. His own eyes, dull of life yet intense with a scrutiny of inspection, locked with hers. ``What is it you wish him to hear?``[d]
Morrigan Stirling
Her mind raced. She didn't want to pass on anything too.. easily discernable to outside parties. Something Saul would understand, but no one else would. It came to her then, and she offered a hesitant smile. "Please.. tell 'im.. I still stand in th' rain." She felt silly, saying something like that, but Saul.. he would know. She hoped.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``As you wish. Your message will find him one way or another.`` He glanced down at her hand, then lifted his own to pat lightly atop it and squeeze softly. ``Now I must depart so I can see to it. You . . stay safe.`` He smiled. ``No more chasing rogue Princes, hm.`` He turned to leave, his golden hair bouncing with each step until he left the training area. Others were still fighting in the circle, and paid no mind to his leave.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
"I will.. thank ye." She smiled faintly, and the flush in her cheeks darkened with slight embarrassment. No.. no more chasing rogue princes for her. She watched silently as he left, and sank back into her seat, staring blankly towards the wall. Nothing could ever stay peaceful for long, it seemed.
The training area was a spite full of angry yells and the clashing of swords or heavy armor. This was one place Michael found solace. It was like the library to a scholar for him. Perched at the top of a stadium like seat, he sat silently and watched two men fight for dominance in the sand pit. Their weapons were dulled, their armor heavy, but it helped prepare them for the real thing. A hand came up to gently push his blonde hair back, revealing a deep cut along the crest of his cheek. Like a river, it made its own path across his face. Yet, he never seemed ashamed of it because like any other soldier, he wore this mark like a medal.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
This was one place Morrigan had never been in all her years in Skye. She would be returning to Heahburg come sunrise, so she decided to take in a few new sights before she left. That diminutive frame, perpetually wrapped in shades of grey, slipped inside; ever dressed as a man, in a dual-layer of tunics, breeches, and sturdy black boots, she might've passed for a young boy, had it not been for the decidedly feminine features and lengthy mahogany braid which trailed down her back. As she came inside, her head tilted, brown eyes peering curiously at the men fighting. But she soon found her way to a seat, high above the rest where few seemed to want to sit. Just how she liked it. The less people she had to interact with, the better.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``You're the woman that Saul speaks of.`` He said, his voice low because he was sitting behind her a few rows. Michael's gaze had lifted from the fight to follow the young woman. He had an intense stare, but the scrutiny behind it wasn't towards her; that could be misinterpreted. He didn't smile, but he did shift closer to her. Eased down in a seat beside her, he glanced back over again.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
Had she been paying any more attention to what was going on below, she might've missed the words. As it was, she just barely caught them, and her eyes widened. She didn't move until he took a seat next to her, and then, her head lowered slightly, arms folding over her stomach. She remembered this man; he'd saved her life, the night Saul was taken. That felt like centuries ago. "..`e speaks o' me?" Her voice was quiet, as always, easy to miss.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``Yes. Speaks of how beautiful you are. I heard once, during our travels east, a song he made in your name.`` He chuckled a bit. ``Be damned if he was as good a warrior as musician, he might have beaten me long ago in a duel much like these.`` He pointed, his hand idly waving in the air before coming back to his side. ``It's hard to miss a pretty face like the one he describes.`` Michael turned his gaze back to the fight below, his features lax and emotionless; the stone tablet of a lifelong soldier. [d]
Morrigan Stirling
Hues the color of rich earth slid closed as the words washed over her, and her throat tightened; you'd think what he said would be a balm to her heart, but all it did was make her miss him more. She'd wrestled with those feelings for the three years she'd been living in Heahburg. Ana had found her place in the lands of the Horse Lord and his wife, working for Eamonn. She spent her days with the horses she loved more than anything, and her nights with friends who were more like family. And yet sometimes, it felt like something was missing. "Dae ye know where 'e is now?" She barely managed to force the question past the lump in her throat.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``No. We were split up during a caravan raid. I haven't seen him in nearly a year. I'm surprised he hasn't returned to see you. Such is the life of a bard, I suppose.`` He didn't look at her, so he couldn't read her expression. He could tell by the strain of her voice, that perhaps she did care for the lad. ``Did you want to find him?`` He looked her way, his eyes narrowing.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
The answer inspired a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. She felt like she should be crying, but her eyes were dry. Morrigan never cried. She did her best to hide her heartache well, especially now as her eyes opened again and her head lifted, turning a dark gaze on him. "A part o' me does, aye. My 'eart wishes fer 'im nightly. But up 'ere.." The calloused tip of index finger tapped her temple. "..I know 'e would likely be 'appier off wanderin' th' world, free like th' birds." Making music and getting in trouble. That was Saul. Beyond traveling from Heahburg to Turas Lan and back, her traveling days were over.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``Some things in life, you just have to take. You can't let them pass by. I know..`` He said. ``It's how I got my wife.`` He chuckled a bit. ``If you wish, I will track him down. He and I have the same connections, it isn't hard for me to find the circles he travels.`` He lifted his gaze from her to look down at his booted feet. He felt like he was pushing himself into this woman's life, but he wanted to help. She seemed.. distant? He couldn't place it.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
Distant was a good way to describe Morrigan, most of the time. She didn't open up to people, and when she could get away with it, she avoided interaction with them. Hope blossomed in her eyes at his offer, but she reined it back in, turning her attention absently on a far point. She wanted so badly to say yes. But fear clawed at her with nails like razors. "I.." She bit her lip. "..I thank ye, but.." She couldn't make herself say the words, and only managed a growl of annoyance at herself.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``As you wish. I should have kept to my business. I didn't mean to intrude.`` He offered her a reassuring smile before coming to stand. ``I hope you take care of yourself.`` He lowered his head as if to nod. Commander St. Laurence made his way down the next seat, then the next. It had not been his intention to make her uncomfortable, yet he succeeded in doing it. Claramae would have the skin of his scalp for pestering young women. [d]
Morrigan Stirling
"W-wait!" She jumped to her feet, reaching out a hand as though to stop him. The sudden movement made her stumble, and she just barely managed to catch herself before taking a fall that would've proved very painful, and possibly fatal. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone brightly. "Could.. could ye per'aps.. get a message tae 'im?" She absently licked her lips, hands falling to curl against her chest. "If'n.. 'tis nay tae much trouble..." She just couldn't let this chance slip through her fingers. She wasn't trying to draw him back to her.. but there was something she had to say.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``Of course.`` He said, stopped by the touch of her hand to his own calloused. Michael had thick arms that only grew larger as he flexed, yet as stalwart a man as he; he turned by the mere touch. His own eyes, dull of life yet intense with a scrutiny of inspection, locked with hers. ``What is it you wish him to hear?``[d]
Morrigan Stirling
Her mind raced. She didn't want to pass on anything too.. easily discernable to outside parties. Something Saul would understand, but no one else would. It came to her then, and she offered a hesitant smile. "Please.. tell 'im.. I still stand in th' rain." She felt silly, saying something like that, but Saul.. he would know. She hoped.
Michael Vincere St. Laurence
``As you wish. Your message will find him one way or another.`` He glanced down at her hand, then lifted his own to pat lightly atop it and squeeze softly. ``Now I must depart so I can see to it. You . . stay safe.`` He smiled. ``No more chasing rogue Princes, hm.`` He turned to leave, his golden hair bouncing with each step until he left the training area. Others were still fighting in the circle, and paid no mind to his leave.[d]
Morrigan Stirling
"I will.. thank ye." She smiled faintly, and the flush in her cheeks darkened with slight embarrassment. No.. no more chasing rogue princes for her. She watched silently as he left, and sank back into her seat, staring blankly towards the wall. Nothing could ever stay peaceful for long, it seemed.