Post by carrickofulster on Jun 29, 2008 13:03:16 GMT -6
[11:54] Shame of Life: The papers would hit Phim's palm and she'd look
up at Carrick a moment, she'd shift a bit under his arm, leaning
further into him as she unfolded the papers. Green-golds were racing
over a quite short bit of writing before she'd frown a bit at the
signature at the bottom. Her Father's. Then she'd reread the letter
befor quickly shuffling to the next one, Carrick's from the signature
she'd glimpse first. She shook a little under the man's arm before
standing straight. She'd lift her head to look at him. That warm,
oddly accented voice was barely heard. "I ...will be outside. I need
some air." And more room to read the letters, she tended to pace when
she read letters.With that, she'd gently excuse herself from the room
and moved back the way Carrick and her had come.
[11:57] CarrickOfUlster: Carrick glanced apologetically at Mairi, but
having his problem solved by the oncoming forces, he cared little for
politics. The Irishman brushed past the guard and grabbed his weapons
back. He had been armed enough, so he carried the daggers, axe, and
sword awkwardly as he struggled to keep up. At last he paused to place
all of the weapons back on his person. He gave Seraphim the distance
she required while she read the letters. With a nearly heartbroken
look, he waited patiently for her to finish. He glanced up at the
moon, which held a bluish hue tonight. Perhaps once, in a blue moon,
something would work out for him. (d)
[11:59] Shame of Life: Seraphim had swept past the guards, she did not
carry a weapon with Carrick, not if they were going away from Ulster.
The letters were in her hands and she kept going until she was near a
tree, though it was not blocking the moonlight to read by. Her eyes
roamed the words before her, she'd read Carricks, then her fathers,
before flipping back to the first again.
[12:03] CarrickOfUlster: Carrick searched her face as best he could
for any sign of anger or resentment. He had kept a great deal hidden
from her, but wanted to do things in the proper fashion and did not
know about the customs of her people. He knew only that he should seek
permission from his sister and his brother the priest, which he had
obtained. "It was from some time ago, though the intention is of
course still there..." he offered encouragingly, as gently as he
could, but he would give her time with the paper. (D)
[12:06] Shame of Life: Phim would do something uncommon for her, she'd
most likely do many that night, but she'd wave at a hand at him to be
quiet as she mouthed the words of his letter. Her brows furrowed a
moment as she read them slowly this time. She was ahlf way through
when he had spoken to her. A moment or two would pass as those pink
lips pressed together before turning to her Father's letter and then
mouthing his short reply. [d]
[13:21] CarrickOfUlster: Carrick respected her desire to read alone,
and to concentrate. He was apparently used to women holding hands up
to him and stopping him in his tracks in various scenarios. He put his
hand to his throat for a moment, fearing his heart was stuck there. It
felt, to him, like the moment before a battle. (d)
[13:23] Shame of Life: Phim would turn sharply as the last word,
"competition" on her lips faded, eyes bright and wide, she took a few
quick steps to him, shaking the paper some, her free hand pointing to
his. "What do you mean?" Her warm voice was still soft, but there was
some strain that seemed she was holding back. [d]
[13:26] CarrickOfUlster: "I mean I still want to be with ye...I just
hadn't known Fafnir and ye...fancied each other." That's precisely
what had made his emotions so turbulent the whole time. "I was tryin'
to do right by ye..." he awkwardly scratched at his ear. He was so
large, and well-muscled, but looked like a boy just finding his way
with his actions. "At least home in Ireland, if a man intends on
courtin' a woman, an' maybe marryin' her, he asks permission of her
da." He wasn't sure if their customs were the same--he knew only what
she had revealed about her home and that was not much. (D)
[13:27] CarrickOfUlster: "Seems Fafnir's a likin' fer ye also an' I'm
not sure what to do about that. If he were also an Irish man, it could
be settled decently." Like Carrick pounding his head in, for example.
But it was not so. (d)
[13:29] Shame of Life: "Fafnir?" She looked lost a moment as she
frowned at the letter, then at Carrick, blinking owlishly. The letters
in her hand shook a bit as she trembled, pacing away from him a few
steps, then turning to look at him again. [d]
[13:32] CarrickOfUlster: He wanted to declare that he would fight for
her, or do anything he could to prevent her from wedding Fafnir,
because her heart belonged to him. But now he was not so sure. "Do ye
care fer him more than ye care fer me?" He asked softly. Steady his
hand was always with a sword, but now in the face of losing her, it
was not. He hoped it was not that the man had hurt her in any way, or
Carrick would outright punish him--likely with the Ceannfort's
authority. (d)
[13:35] Shame of Life: "Carrick..." A woman of so few words, even less
when it came to this..the steps she had taken away from him were
regained in a quick, long legged leap as ehr arms flew around his
neck, her lithe form pressed along his as she had to do little to
reach his lips. Which she did, with her own, pressing tightly to his
in a passionate embrasse, her cheeks already flushing at her actions.:
[d]
[13:39] CarrickOfUlster: It was always Seraphim closing the distance,
and Carrick appreciated this. He was not shy with his own efforts once
he realized that she wanted to be with him. He managed to keep his
hand chastely upon her shoulder, but she would be able to tell how he
felt--he gripped her shoulder gently and inclined with the passion of
the kiss which he returned. That strong, now-steady hand moved to
gently caress her back. "Regardin' the letters...I will do, or not do,
as ye wish, a stor." He said quietly enough, after the kiss broke. (d)
[13:41] Shame of Life: Seraphim had not let go of him, a briliant,
rare full smile on her lips as she look him in the eyes. Keeping
herself pressed close as she cokeed her head a little to the side. "Do
anything against what my Father says? I should raid your camp and take
you as he did our village.." The smile, if possible grew larger, eyes
sparkling, it worked out for her lot. [d]
[13:48] CarrickOfUlster: "Och, no need fer that, a stor, I am yers."
He recalled a conversation he'd had with Sean O'Neill long ago. The
admiral said he might have simply taken Mairi for his own were the
woman weak enough in body or mind, but she had not been. That, too,
was still tradition in Ireland, but Carrick's brother was the
Archbishop of Dunluce, thus he could not simply ignore religion as
part of his person, nor would he do anything that might turn this
woman against him. He kept both hands upon her back now. He felt
comfortable, for once, letting her lead. "Well, ye do as ye will, an'
I will follow. If ye wish me to fight Fafnir, I will do it. If ye'd
rather go straight to Father Declan, I'll do that. I want whatever's
best fer ye...it can't be easy bein' far away from home. After Dunluce
is recaptured, if it is ye want to go back there, perhaps we can spend
two seasons there an' two in Ulster." He was willing to compromise.
Anything to keep her. (d)
[13:52] Shame of Life: She had forgotten his Christian brother..her
face fell at that, her head bowed as her arms slid away from his neck
and hands down his strong arms, her forehead would rest against his
shoulder. Her mind was racing to catch up.."Distance from home is no
issue.." Her voice muffled against his shoulder, "But being a ..Jew
might be?" It was passed through the mother, or so the story goes, not
that she practiced anything but her work ethic very much, and the
morality, modesty..so on. [d]
[13:59] CarrickOfUlster: He kept one arm around her back, and his
opposite hand came to rest upon her face, palm to cheek, but only
after he adjusted one of the blades beneath his shirt so that she
might rest comfortably on his shoulder. He did not at first know what
to say, but then he found the words. "Ye have seen the dress of me
sister. Her daughter, me niece Seanna, became a Christian out of
respect for the girl's Da, but Mairi would not...an' Declan is a good
brother an' a good priest. He loves her as a brother loves a sister
an' as a shepherd loves his flock, be they Christian or no, just as
he'll love ye. As long as it is Declan we speak to, I am certain ye'll
be accepted." The type of Celtic cross Carrick wore around his neck
predated Christ and had been used as a surveying tool or a means of
judging scale for battle. "Declan is a man most don't understand. He's
a vision fer our people, an' wants to make the Irish church its own."
In the truest part of his heart, Carrick was committed equally to the
ways of the woods and the rising of the Christ. He was certain that
Declan
[14:00] CarrickOfUlster: would make no move to convert Seraphim, for
that would make such standards apply also to the Ceannfort, but he
might ask a promise regarding any children that might come of the
potential marriage. A look of concern crossed his face momentarily.
"We'll just have to find him an' discuss it, a stor." (d)
[14:03] Shame of Life: Her head lifted as he adjusted the blade and
then rested again, eyes shutting as he palmed her cheek. Listening to
him explain, she'd let her arms slide around his middle now, hands on
his back as she breathed a bit easier...if children were mentioned
though, she would probably pass out from breathing too quickly. Thank
goodness it wasn't mentioned. "I had no idea about..Fafnir..." Her
thumbs would idly begin to rub small circles against the small of his
back. [d]
[14:09] CarrickOfUlster: "At least now I know why it is he wasn't so
fond of me, aye?" Children would remain unmentioned--they had
discussed enough to quiet Carrick's soul, and to be honest he did not
think largely on it. It came with marriage and duty to clan, and
presently his sisters, Mairi and Brighid, bore alone the
responsibility of producing more Tuatha'an children--and since Mairi
had taken Sean's name instead of the old way of the man taking hers,
Seanna was an O'Neill. By marrying Seraphim, Carrick would not only
fulfill his hearts desire--he would be bringing a woman of skill into
his town and she would have a high status as wife of a clan leader
were they to wed. "Ye would have duties," he continued, assuming
childbearing was a given. "If there is an injustice goin' on, ye must
be the one to speak against it at the forum in the castle. If I were
to win yer hand, that would important. The wife of a taoiseach...is
typically outspoken. It can be difficult, because Mairi does not
always listen. She does better with this Jack fellow, though, who does
things in the old way." He felt very calm now, explaining this to her.
(d)
[14:13] Shame of Life: "Speak?" This was almost squeaked, she'd open
her eyes to look at him, lifting her head as her hands stilled against
his back. She looked terrified at the idea, he was already talking of
duties? The men had the say in her village, women, like her aunts,
played the strings from the back, but had never seen herself in any
position to do that. Not that she would, with Carrick. He could talk
all he wanted, it was not something she was good at. [d]
[14:20] CarrickOfUlster: "Aye. Not every day. But the womenfolk in me
clan...some of them do not wish to talk to man on issues. Sometimes it
is hard to be direct with Mairi. They need someone to mostly listen, a
stor, an' if it is a matter for the brehons, then it goes to them an'
the law speaks." Clan life was second nature to Carrick, of course.
Apart from the concept of loyalty, which Seraphim obviously understood
already, he knew that he would have to teach her. "I do not want ye to
change, though, not at all." Seraphim would not be required to perform
all of the duties that other wives would have to see to. She held a
valuable skill. "Mostly ye will be expected to do what ye do an' make
the weapons an' armor an' stay true to me....things ye do so well
already." He kissed her forehead, but knew that he was overwhelming
her. Carrick, however, seemed rather content, and his tartan seemed to
faintly glow in the moonlight. "No part of it has to happen tomorrow,
ye know. It will all take months but... I did not want ye to think I
was showin' lack of respect." (d)
[14:23] Shame of Life: "I never thought that.." Her words were
murmured as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, eyes shutting again as
she wriggled closer to him, if it was possible, her scarf covered head
rested on his shoulder again as her thumbs went back to those small
rubbing circles against his back. Her mind pleasantly still again as
she stood under the moon with Carrick. She'd wake, she was sure, to
Ulster and the rain, but for now, she was fine..Except that nagging
thought in the back of her mind..What would happen when they went back
to Ulster? Were they to pretend still? Most likely.
[14:23] Shame of Life: [d]
[14:27] CarrickOfUlster: He felt the way the pressure released from
his broad back at her touch. He let himself enjoy that for a while
before he led them back down a path. "Let's get somethin' fer ye to
eat. I am glad the ships will soon sail, an' I take this opportunity
to have a fine drink." He grinned at her. If the Skye/Ulster army was
successful, as he hoped, there would be no more pretending--not in any
part of life. For now, nothing was certain but his love, and so he
gently reached around and took one of her hands in his and led them
towards the tavern(d)
[14:31] Shame of Life: Phim was easily guided as she followed him, her
hand in his again as she let a little smile play on her features as
she blurted in the quiet way she spoke, "I do have a dowry," then
another, blushing thought came to life in her pretty head, this one
was spoked much softer, "I am untouched." Her heart, or stomach,
almost came outof her mouth with that declaration, but she felt he may
ask sometime anyway. It was a condition in her village, but from the
sights she'd seen since coming west, it wasn't something that was
required here. [d]
[14:38] CarrickOfUlster: He made no response to the dowry. It was not
required, but he understood the importance of it as he had worked very
hard to ensure his sisters each had dowries of their own. "That will
be somethin' to mention to Father Declan, then. I am certain it will
ensure his approval of ye," he merely said in reply to the other,
though he did not think Declan would be surprised to learn of Phim's
virginity--only the fact that Carrick had not yet taken it. It had
been clear, though...that the warrior was a changed man once he came
back from Avalendor. All the women had said so, and Declan himself had
expressed his approval of Carrick's temporarily celibate lifestyle.
"I...have known a woman before." This wasn't easy, but he felt as
though he should offer the information. "More than one..." He
scratched his neck awkwardly. In his past, the drink and the smell of
war had left him without an exact count, really. "Ever since I first
spoke to ye, me heart an' me eyes have rested on no other." It was the
truth, and he hoped it would be sufficient. (d)
[14:41] Shame of Life: "Ah.." Was the begining of a reply to that
statement, though not much would follow, "Then you will know what to
do." That was in Seraphim horribly serious tone she had most of the
time, a little smile still on her wide mouth, though the rest was her
usual stoic self. Fingers twining with his as she caught up to him
fully now, now being completely lead, though she had no idea where
they were going. She could almost..hum. How awefully emotional of her.
[d]
[14:48] CarrickOfUlster: The smile along with that statement made the
not-so-chaste part of him want to agree, to run and catch up, to
avidly brag about his abilities and the accolades he had received.
However, this was not an Irish woman, and so he allowed himself to
absorb the shock of it. He recalled the many times foreign dignitaries
had been slightly shocked at the behavior in the Golden Harp, or even
in the castle. His people were not lilke Calygula or anything of the
sort, but they were far from repressed (minus the very religious
ones). His eyes simply fell to her form. At last he would finally say
"Aye." But it was said in a half-question. Seraphim was certainly a
woman, but a different sort. Soon enough the tavern came near, and
apart from pointing to it in the distance, he let the woman lead. (d)
[14:51] Shame of Life: "Yes." Another firm nod of that saffron scarfed
head...she'd move withthat lazy grace in the dark next to him, her
other hand finding the one she was holding, both taking it now. "...it
is not unpleasant for ... the girl, is it?" Seraphim! The words that
come from her would of gotten her smacked, feeling happily bold at the
moment though. Her hands around his was to keep herself from popping
herself in her own mouth.: [d]
[14:55] CarrickOfUlster: Carrick was rather speechless as he opened
his mouth, at least for some time. She managed to say and do things
that stopped the warrior in his tracks, and this was one of those
times. "The women of yer village never talked with ye about this?" Was
all he could say at first, but knowing she was worried, he answered
the question to the best of his ability, after awkwardly taking back
just one hand for a moment to scratch at his beard. "It can be,
just...initially but, it won't be. Not for ye." His face was so
reddened; he stared downwards, but, finding only her form, he looked
at his own feet. (d)
[14:58] Shame of Life: When he stopped, she did, her head cokeed to
the side as she watched him look down as he spoke..her head shook in
the negative of directions to his question, "No..no one expected a man
would want me." This was said in a matter of fact way, as if it was
fine she was told she was not worth the attention. She didn't sound
hurt about it, just casual, "Why not for me?" Honestly, the girl was
not a talkative sort, her work kept her hidden from most, thus, the
amount of gossip or whatnot she'd heard of was nil. [d]
[15:05] CarrickOfUlster: "Seraphim...did ye not see the way the men
looked at ye when ye arrived in Ulster?" He was right--he'd had to
claim her as his own, or someone else would have. "Yer a beautiful
woman...an' 'tis not another woman I've ever met who can craft a
weapon so fine." He was frustrated, verging on angry at that
information. "Who told ye that ye wouldn't be wanted?" There was a
hidden thunder in his voice as he asked that. Whomever had told her
such might not want to meet Carrick! After some time, he breathed and
calmed. "There is a healer here, the lady Aislin... ye may speak with
her about this matter, else ye may speak with Mairi, she is also a
healer an' she is again wit' child...an' can explain these things to
ye...an'..... not fer ye because if a man is what he should be, than
he'll treat a woman as he does in other areas of their life
together...show kindness an' not be so rough." This was very hard for
him to discuss, he had trouble looking
[15:06] CarrickOfUlster: at her. He did not know how else to explain.
Sometimes it was fun to be another way, but not the first time. He
couldn't explain it to her--that was women's work. (d)
[15:09] Shame of Life: Phim would let go of his hands a moment,
flexing them lightly before taking his hand again. She'd smile at him
a bit, "I know how a woman becomes with child, I am not that daft."
Look! She picked up an Irish word too, "But I.. may ask why it would
be unpleasant, but not of ..your sister." At that, Seraphim would
mostly just stay ignorant to it, with him, she was mildly blushing,
with strangers? She'd sink through the floor..And her head shook
again, "As far as the being told, my aunts. They would know, would
they not?" Her cheeks pink under the freckles at his kind words..[d]