[PRP] Of Conquest and Death (Soren and Lan)

[ramenli]

It was a rather warm day for the ninth October, though Soren would always consider the month to be the month of War Admiral. He had been hard at work, miscellaneous tasks that only one of his body type was truly suited for, heavy lifting, things relying on brute strength. He still had work to do but he needed a break, to cool down and eat perhaps. So he found his way into the forest, packing a jug and his rations with him.

It was a delightful way to cool off. Simply filling the jug with water and lifting it above his head, tilting his face to it as he slowly emptied the contents. Rivulets of water trickled down him, running down his chest, his well formed abs, soaking into his trousers and causing the fabric to cling to his form, revealing that not a single inch of his body was wasted on imperfections.

Just another day in the life of a Death Guardian.  

[ramenli]

Soren had been so enjoying his rinse-off that while he had noted some of the sounds of the forest dying down, he had not actually heard the horsewoman's approach. He turned toward her voice, seeing the telltale edge of a headdress, a bit of robes. "Lan," he acknowledged, wondering why she was here of all places, in this particular part of the forest.

Her question amused him and he set the jug down, making no effort to put on his shirt because he really did not feel indecent, bared nipples on a stallion were nothing to be concerned with. Now his pelt on the other hand...it was something he preferred to have on around others, but not a necessity. "No," the simple answer, and a truthful one. He did have other things to do though, and could not just stand around not being productive. "Join me for lunch." As he waited for her he got out the food he had brought with him. Nothing he needed, just things he wanted. A couple of carrots, a portion of apple crisp, and in a small packet, sugar cubes. An entirely indulgent lunch but he would more than work it off later.  

[ramenli]

Conquest was so formal. He watched as she approached and then seemed to be looking for a place to sit down, almost sighing inwardly. Were nobles really that concerned with getting their clothes dirty? He simply shrugged at the idea of her ruining his lunch, and then turned, moving a couple of paces and bending over to get his shirt to spread out on the ground next to her.

"Sit on that," he said with a gesture. No use wasting time trying to get her settled in. He sat down as well, giving them both space, legs in front of him, bent at the knees so he could rest his forearms on them as he looked at her. "What do you need?" He bit into a carrot as he continued to study her.  

[ramenli]

Really, so long as it was not his pelt, Soren didn't mind getting down and dirty if it called for it. So he might have to wash his shirt...it was not pristine to begin with. He legitimately thought nothing of it other than that she was being finicky.

She was being wordy and he had no idea why she had approached him. Why they were both sitting here with her looking like there was something serious on her mind, and yet saying almost nothing. Red eyes met gold ones when she looked back, surprised at the expression in them. His intentions? Why was that important. She said this was a delicate manner, but if it was an answer that she wanted, it was an answer she would get.

He was going to have to use words for this wasn't he. "You're a clanswoman. We're allies. I'll fight with you, get revenge with you." Those were his intentions for all of the herd. He would fight along with them, and they with him. Maybe he would be a bit more protective of her, Lifen, Nergui, the other Priestesses, those that he knew, but they were all just allies together.  

[ramenli]

Towards her? He stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to explain herself. And when she did...

In another time, in another place, and if she had been more mature, he might have had intentions for her. With inquiries like these he might have showed her his intentions right there on the forest floor. But it was not that time, it was here, and now, and she was confusing his respect for a horsewoman that had strength and a similar taste in revenge with special attentions.

But at the same time, she seemed nervous, and she was a horsewoman that he knew. He could not just laugh at how she had taken his actions so very wrongly. For her to come and ask him...it probably had taken a lot for that. For that, and their friendship if that was what they had, she deserved some tact. Not that he had much of it.

And for the first time since the fall of the isles, he was being forced to consider, albeit briefly, the very idea of a relationship. After Astridr...he still felt hollow from that loss. He refused to let it effect his work, his duties. He had mourned openly for her, but even now small things would remind him of her and set him off again. He was not over her, he did not want to be over her, and the idea of being with another mare yet was not one he had contemplated.

He did choose his words, though to someone from Conquest, trained in the art of speaking correctly or whatever it was that they did, it may have been overly blunt. "A Death Guardian has no special intentions for a Conquest filly of your rank, who at her age doubtlessly has duties toward her Clan." There were barriers in those words. Division of clans, the referring to her as a filly rather than a noble, bringing up her age yet again, duties.

If she looked at him again one hand had drifted to his chest, toying with a ring on a simple chain around his neck. It was an unmistakable sort of ring, the way that there were two types of metal, twining around each other, masculine but still with a soft edge...the sort of ring that a stallion would only have because of a mare. Something that he was refusing to set aside. If she wanted a personal reason for his response, she could find it in that.  

[ramenli]

He was not entirely unsurprised at her reaction. He was surprised that she felt it necessary to elaborate, and as her words went on and on, about how by just being himself, being nice to someone he genuinely liked, he was an absolutely terrible person. He felt his body stiffen, jaw setting. What did she expect of him? Of course he was not from Conquest, anyone who could have mistaken him for someone that was was a fool. To be critiqued by her for that when she was the one looking in to every insignificant action that he took.

Her apology was well timed. It took away the edge of the anger, though he was still not pleased with what she had said. He listened to her, the words of a Conquest mare far above and beyond what he might use in a full conversation normally. She was young, inexperienced. He had seen fillies like this before, though not normally directed at him. How she had managed to take his actions for attentions, to work her own emotions into the mix and throw herself into confusion was beyond him. He knew what she was like under normal circumstances. Strong, fully of vengeance, desiring to make others fall before her. For her to admit shame, dishonor...it must have been hard for her.

He let himself think about it, knowing he would be keeping her waiting, but she could suffer in silence for a moment after springing all of this on him. Before he spoke he studied her face, noting the actual pain there. This was the folly of youth here. He would not be cruel in that light. "I'm myself, not Conquest." State the obvious. Make it clear she had misunderstood. She would not leave thinking she could read him like one of those prissy stallions her clan had.

"Nor do I gossip." There, he would put that to rest to. Her secret was safe with him, he wouldn't know how to bring it up to someone if he wanted to. He then let out a heavy sigh. "Misunderstandings aren't shameful. They happen. But accusing the other of doing it purposefully to avoid blame is what a foal would do. I won't apologize for something I didn't do, but I respect you and accept your apology." He was pretty sure he was getting the start of a headache. Mares and their complexities.  

[ramenli]

He had not expected that chastising her would open up all of this. At first denial, but then...more. Things from before the isles fell, as the isles fell. He had not known all of this about her, and there was nothing he could have done if she had. Emotions...there was a reason he had not avoided his. He had not wanted the brunt of them to lurk beneath the surface, to spring out at him at an inconvenient time. Now, watching as she began to confess to feelings that she had doomed those that looked up to her, been responsible for the lives that were lost, he was reminded of why.

He did not move when she hit him, an attack of release, but nothing that put him in danger, and he could more than take the blow. Simply watching in silence as her emotions swept her along, accusing him and praising him in almost the same breath. She ranted about her clan, what it meant, betraying more about herself than maybe she meant.

He stayed seated, looking up at her, realizing that in the state she was in perhaps the feeling of being above someone would help her, and make him seem like less of a threat. She was too young for all of this really, for the weight that had been put on her shoulders and what they had had to survive through. "Only one person here is upset by your tears," he pointed out, his deep voice carrying easily as he looked at her. "We have spoke before of tears," he reminded her gently "at that time I recommended Trance. Did you never use it?"  

[ramenli]

Soren's eyes hardened slightly. "You say you are of Conquest?" He watched her, clinging to her bow, giving him excuses.

"Conquest hides in fear of what they might see? Too afraid to even try to move forward?" She would probably not like his words, but while he could put up with tears, grief, he would not put up with this sort of crying.