dejah_thoris | Midnight in the Jeddak's Garden

Entry tags:

Midnight in the Jeddak's Garden

[cont'd from here]

She holds him through the worst of it. Holds him and rocks him gently, her mind racing to come up with some kind of solution, any solution. There isn't one, she knows. She can feel his agony as if it were her own, and in a way, it is now, isn't it? She feels the tears on her cheeks and lets them fall. Grief is the strongest enemy she's ever vanquished.

But she's done it before, and she knows she can do it again.

She doesn't know how long they've been sitting there when she notices a telltale ripple in the air. It's just inches above the wood of her door. It takes a moment to resolve, and before it does, she recognizes the portal and knows where it opens to. She can smell the pimalias and the blessed cool of the moss trees beyond. The night sky above Helium is crystal clear.

Gingerly she urges his gaze up. Her voice is gentle and warm. "Hey. Can you smell that?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"But they'll still be there." Low, and heavy.

And to think Curtis is arguing for having fewer people around. God.

The corner of her mouth quirks up.

"Yes, and the first time we are overrun with a Warhoon raiding party, you'll be very, very glad of that fact."

He was doing so well at pushing his way through the darkness. Curtis swallows. Tries to inject a little bit of lightness into his voice, forced as it may be.

"What, you don't think I can take 'em?"

He's never seen a Warhoon raiding party, she knows, but she'll grab onto that little bit of lightness for all it's worth. She blinks rapidly in mock astonishment.

"Oh they'll stand no chance, clearly. Between the two of us? Psh. I just don't want to clean that mess up by ourselves."

"Hmm."

Curtis pretends to puzzle over that statement, all mock gravity and exaggerated frowns. "You make a good point."

"I often do." Dejah's grin broadens and she leans into steal a soft kiss.

"You know, there's another place we might have the type of cabin you're describing."

"Yeah?" He quirks his eyebrows. "Where?"

"You've been out to the lake. You've seen the mountains in the distance?"

"...Yeah."

This time, when he straightens up, it's slower, more thoughtful.

"You'd -- be okay with that? Not having the cabin on Barsoom with everything else?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay with that? I mean, I would still have to return to Helium once in awhile. But it would still be something that was ours. Especially if we built it together?"

So why not just use your room instead? he starts to think, before her last words collide with the thought and drive it aside.

How many times has he looked around her room and felt like he's a visitor? How uncomfortable did he feel when she started changing it to suit him, like he was imposing himself on her space? But another place entirely, a physical match to the relationship space they're building together...yeah.

This is really turning into something big. Shit.

Funny how Curtis seems to be okay with that, though.

"I like that idea," he whispers, and presses another small kiss to her cheek.

She leans into that kiss, humming under her breath. "Then we'll start there. I'd still like you to join me on expedition sometime. It'd be a good way for you to get used to the gravity here, and the culture." She looks down at the center of his chest again, long lashes blinking a few times, a secretive smile ghosting over her lips. "I am not entirely comfortable with keeping our relationship secret from my father."

He snorts a faint laugh. "I'll brace myself for the big 'what are your intentions toward my daughter' lecture."

Though considering he's gonna have to make a formal suit for her hand eventually, what's one more what are your intentions lecture on top of the other thousand he's likely to get?

Dejah laughs, low and rich, shaking her head. "No, my father will more likely warn you off me. Claims I'm too -- overbearing for most men. He still thinks it's unseemly for a woman to be Jeddak, so... My grandmother would have his ears on a cord to hear him say such things, if she was still with us."

"Unseemly? Seriously?"

What the fuck. When was this guy born?

...probably something like eight or nine hundred years ago, actually, considering Dejah's age, but that's no excuse.

Dejah's laugh melts to a chuckle. "He worries, that's all. And yes, he's a traditionalist. Believe me, we've gone round and round on the issue. I cherish his counsel, but yes, what's the saying? I take it with a grain of salt."

After that whole surrender and get married thing? Yeah, Tardos Mors can sit down and keep his mouth shut. Dejah loves her father, but she is very much her own woman.

His smile warms. "Can't say I'm surprised," he says, with all due fondness. "So how many fights a week do I gotta be prepared for?"

"Oh between him and I? Once or twice a month seems to suffice." Her cheeks color a little. "Between you and I? I suppose we'll have to wait and see, won't we?"

There's a shimmer of warmth under her words; an open desire. Best part of fighting is the making up, she seems to think.

Oh, really, says the knowing look he slants her way.

Curtis leans to whisper in her ear: "You know we don't always have to fight to get to the part after."

Her eyes flutter closed and she curls one hand under his chin, catching the back of his neck with her palm.

"You don't say..."

"Mm-hm."

He draws in a slow lungful of air as her fingers find the back of his neck, then catches her mouth in an equally slow kiss. When it breaks, he adds, barely a breath across her lips, "Crazy idea, I know."

She doesn't open her eyes, just stays still, close to him, breathing him in. Her fingers return to scribing gentle circles in the short scruff of his hair.

"But what if I like the fighting part, too?"

"Well..."

He draws out the word, lets it fade, and leans his forehead against hers as he closes his eyes.

Serene, "I guess we could arrange for a couple good fights then."

Or more than a couple.

"Just for appearances, of course." She brushes her nose against his, nuzzling just a little. It feels indulgent, but she doesn't care.

She needs this right now. She needs him.

His smile grows. "Oh, yeah. Can't have anybody thinking you're going soft."

Curtis winds his fingers in her hair, pressing a kiss to her jaw.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject