Fantasy Children of Blood and Shadows - Devil's Walkway

[Ririn]

Ivorel had sunk in a feverish nightmare, her body and mind drained from withholding the void for so long, her soul drained from having been so openly exposed to her own enemy. It was like, every part of her was in pain, physically and emotionally. A burning pain that made her eyes move under closed eyelids, driving her body to experience tremors every now and then even though Conor had tried to keep her warm.

The nightmare wasn't one solid dream exactly. It was more like a constant rain of different images, vibrant images that felt so real it was hard for her mind to realise she wasn't experiencing reality. Every painful moment, every heart brake, every drop of blood she had shed, now came rushing at her taking her breath away! But what felt more real, what wounded her more was his voice. Vox kept saying the same thing over and over and over again, in his mother tongue, the one she couldn't understand but he had translated it to her anyway. And as his words have cut through her then, they still cut through her now, a prayer that spoke a painful truth and dressed every memory and image of her nightmare.

Ark orv grogrth kiro ma'kjaka hrt'orvkrom' .
Ark orv grogrth kiro ma'kjaka hrt'orvkrom' .
Ark orv grogrth kiro ma'kjaka hrt'orvkrom' .
Ark orv grogrth kiro ma'kjaka hrt'orvkrom' .

***
Conor looked at the chained up Demon with hatred written vividly in his eyes but when he bespoke of Ivorel, his eyes flew at her sleeping figure and if Vox could see his eyes then, he would know without a dubt how much the white haired elf ment to the man.

"It's both my duty and an honour to protect my Captain from an animal like yourself." Conor answered bluntly, almost indifferent about the Demon's words. Almost!
His eyes focused on him again and his heart got filled with what was a mixture of anger and guilt, as he now begun to realise what he had agreed to and what that would do to Ivorel as a result.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox's head tilted to one side, golden gaze scouring the male elf. He caught the look he gave Ivorel and wondered about its meaning, He tried to remember it he had picked up the elf's name. Conor, yes that was his name, he remembered Ivorel calling for him after he bit her.

"Your duty or your pleasure? I'm surprised the tent hasn't lit on fire with the amount of heat you were gazing at her with. Does Ivorel know you lust after her?" His voice was nonchalant, as if he didn't care about his answer either way. He twisted the cuffs around his wrists, dispersing the pressure on his hands.

 

[Ririn]

Conor narrowed his eyes, frowning even though moving his face like that caused him pain due to the cut the Demon's axe had left on his face.

"How dare you Demon?" He growled, as his muscles tensed. "I do not lust after her! I respect and care for her. Even a Demon like you can certainly understand it's common among people that fought next to eachother for a long time." Conor tried to make an excuse for himself. But why was he trying to justify himself to the Demon?

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox rolled his eyes at Conor's mumbling, amused that the elf had taken the bait. It seemed like this elf was a lot less self controlled than Ivorel. He wondered how much he would be able to rile him up

"I thump my battle companions on the back for a job well done, and we celebrate over a drink of strong mead. I don't long after their bodies, undressing them with my eyes whilst they sleep" Vox chuckled, laugh reverberating though his chains.

 

[Ririn]

Conor's eyes flew to the sleeping Ivorel again for just a moment but it was enough to make him swift around in his chair nervously.

"I do not undress her with my eyes you filthy animal!" Conor said in a low angry tone. "I'm here to make sure you don't kill someone else. Someone as innocent as that young boy you slaughtered!"

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox's grin widened. He was enjoying this. The discomfort in Conor's demeanor was obvious as he shifted in his chair.

"That's not what it looked like to me. It looked like you wanted to join her under those blankets" he shrugged his shoulder, licking his lips. "I wouldn't mind watching as well" he said, only because he knew it would make the elf uncomfortable.
"And I'm not so sure you're up for the job of making sure I don't kill anyone else. I mean, how's the wound on your face holding up? Hurts, doesn't it?"

 

[Ririn]

Conor jumped like he had been stung by a bee without expecting it! He couldn't just stand around listening to him speak the way he did about Ivorel!

"How dare you even say those words? You would never be worthy to lay your eyes on her!" Conor yelled, stepping closer to the Demon but not close enough for him to get to him. Conor had learnt by Ivorel's mistake that closing in ment getting attacked! Of course the demon would think that Conor said he wasn't worthy because he had feelings for her but in reality, what most terrified Conor was the possibility of a demon looking upon her tattoo markings!

"You let me lead you in a trap and you seriously think mentioning a wound will get to me somehow?" Conor asked with a grin but he did sound honest about not minding.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox shugged again, dismissively.

"Seems to me that I have hit a softspot. From your words, it seems to me that you do desire her. So I will ask again, does she know? Or... perhaps she does and she has rejected you? Perhaps she doesn't deem you worthy" He laughed. "Oh, I can show her that I am worthy all night long" He said, lifting an eyebrow.

 

[Ririn]

Conor drew his sword from his belt, pointing it at the demon's heart, inches away from touching his already slushed skin.

"If you ever touch her animal I will kill you!" Conor said ignoring how Vox already had a death wish, as his face painted red from anger. "You won't even think about her!" The elf carried on with his meaningless threats, wanting nothing more but to pierce through his rotten heart right there and then for daring to even think of Ivorel in such a way but knowing he couldn't do it. Because killing him ment having to explain to Ivorel why he had done it before she could get answers but also explain it to... him.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox laughed, a full throated sound that shook the chains above him. His eyes gleamed with fervor as every jab found its mark. Oh, he was so easy.

Vox leaned forward in his chains, taking a shuffled step towards Conor as much as the ankle shackles allowed. The point of the sword grazed his skin and yet he still he leaned forward. The tip of the sword embedded itself in his chest. A rivulet of blood oozed from the wound and traced a pathway down his body, following the map-work of scars on his flesh.

"And what will you do about it if I were to claim her as my own? You don't have the balls to kill me" he provoked.

 

[Ririn]

Conor didn't bulge nor did he move the sword away. If the Demon wanted to die Conor certainly wouldn't mind at all.

"Claim her as your own?" Conor smirked, shaking his head. "You wouldn't deserve someone like her in a thousand years and she would die before letting you get your hands on her!"

Then a moan came from Ivorel, making Conor turn his head, eyes wide open.
She shifted around, trying to open her eyes and focus her gaze on something familiar around her but her mind was nothing but a heavy fog and though she had heard Conor speak, she couldn't yet process what his words ment. Putting one hand on the soft mattress underneath her, Ivorel tried to push her body up, managing to lift her torso a few inches before she fell back with another moan of pain.

That's all Conor needed to put his sword away, leaving the demon to hang from his chains rushing to her, kneeling down and protectively bring a hand behind her head to support her.
"Don't try to move yet!" He instructed, bringing his free hand on her cheek before touching her forehead, pulling back as she realised she was burning a fever.
"I feel sick!" Ivorel whispered as she felt her stomach turn. Conor lowered her head again, reaching for the bucket that waited under the table, bringing it close to her. "I feel sick!" She repeated, trying to lift her body up again but this time Conor helped her, bringing his arm under her shoulders as he brought the bucket on her lap. Ivorel leaned over it, as everything around her swirled violently making her shut her eyes. Even still, Ivorel threw up unable to convince her stomach it didn't have to though what came out of her wasn't food or some normal, gastric liquid. It was the same black material that had fallen from her eyes like tears.

Conor tensed up, unable to understand what was happening and in his arms, Ivorel had yet another tremor, gaged and threw up more of the black liquid that smelled like... nothing. In fact, it hadn't even made a sound when it fell in the bucket but it was certainly there.

"Ivorel? What is going on? What are you feeling?" He asked her worried but she only shook her head, too weak to answer and when she opened her mouth to try, more of the liquid just poured out, effortlessly, like her own body wanted it out so bad it actually made it easier for her. She fell backwards, shifting around and blindly finding Conor's hand, squeezing it as tight as she could.
"It's alright, I'm here!" He tried to comfort her even though he was feeling highly unsure he could do something to help her when he couldn't even understand what was wrong to begin with.

"Food." Ivorel whispered so low Conor had lean close to her, resting his ear just above her lips. Luckily, Ivorel understood. "Food." She said again and as he pulled away ready to stand up and bring her something to eat, Ivorel dug her nails in his hand, forcing him to look back at her, meeting with her open eyes. "For him!" Ivorel said managing to keep her gaze pinned on Conor's eyes long enough to make sure, he knew it was an order.
"Yes Captain." Conor agreed wondering why on earth was she thinking of the demon in her state.

He left her to sleep a bit more, tucking her under the blankets again, avoiding to look at the prisoner. Instead he just stepped out of the tent, ordering a guard to bring food for both Ivorel, in a tray, and the demon, in a cloth so he wouldn't have the chance to get his hands on something that could be used as a weapon, taking the guard's place by the entrance, still trying to figure out what had happened with Ivorel.

Twenty minutes later, Conor left a cloth infront of the demon with a piece of bread, two baked potatoes and a thick piece of ham, while he took the tray to Ivorel, waking her up again.

This time, it wasn't so hard for her to focus her eyes on her companion, managing even, to smirk at him.
"Is it soup?" She asked, her voice still a whisper.
The question made Conor smile. "Yes it is!"
"Is it any good?"
"I didn't tried it Captain."
"Help me stand up." She asked him with pleading eyes and Conor couldn't say no to that.

He left the tray on the table, bringing one of the chairs next to it before he pulled Ivorel up with him, wrapping one of the blankets around her slim body that was still burning up.
"You sure you feel up to the task?" He teased her earning another valuable smile from her. He led her to the table, one small uncertain step at a time, helping her sit down. "Can I bring you anything else?"

"A bowl of water with vinegar. For the fever." She explained, picking up the spoon, making it look easier than it was. Ivorel had yet to look at the demon but she could feel his presence in the tent. "Let his chains lower Conor, he can't eat like that. And don't worry, he can't reach me. Go, eat something too." She encouraged him, mainly because there was nothing she craved more than to be alone right now.

Conor stood there, thinking of different scenarios, each one worst than the others. He hated the though of her being alone in the tent but he knew, even in this state, Ivorel wasn't somebody he wanted to go up against!
"I'll be back very soon." He promised with a nod, squeezing her shoulder for comfort before walking behind Vox, starting with the left chain, then moving to the right one, giving him enough room to kneel down and eat. Conor shot a deadly look at him but kept his mouth shut before leaving them alone.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox watched their interaction silently. He stared at Ivorel as she puked her guts up, a black inky substance that sent a cold shiver down Vox's spine. He watched their casual touches and gentle banter and wondered if in fact, they both had feelings towards each other. Yet he remained mute, allowing Conor to take care of Ivorel in her fevered state. He was surprised she was still in the tent and not in the infirmary. Surprised even more that they both were willing to show this sickly side of her to their prisoner. Yet from what he had gathered from the female elf, he bet that she would not trust anyone else in the tent with him, regardless of her current state.

Conor left briefly, only to return with a bundle wrapped in cloth. The smell of food filled the tent making his mouth water. His stomach spasmed, reminding him for the first time how ravishingly hungry he was. Yet the elf placed the bundle on the floor, out of reach as if to spite the demon. Vox kept his face carefully neutral, as if the action didn't affect him in the slightest. His gaze wandered over to the table as he continued to observe them. They were speaking in hushed tones, but his sensitive hearing could pick up their muted words.

As Conor came over, Vox's eyes followed him. As the chains went slack, he resisted the urge to rub his wrists where they touched the cuffs to relieve the discomfort. When the male elf left the tent, Vox shot him a suggestive smile, sure to irritate him even further. He waited until the elf was out of sight before he reached for the food. He sniffed and tasted a small amount first, checking for any known poisons. He didn't detect any yet he doubted that the elves would try and kill him now after they had just recaptured him. He ate like a starved man, shoving great fistfuls of food into his gullet as if he expected it to be his last meal. He slowed down on the ham, really savoring the rich flavors of the meat. He even licked the juices off his fingers.

As he finished, he sat back, satiated, a sigh escaping his lips. "My race can say what they want about you elves, but you do know how to make a good honey-roasted ham! I have spend far too long eating overcooked game over campfires. If that was to be my last meal, you can now do what you will with me" he said, attempting to make a joke. He didn't look her in the eyes whilst doing so, uncertain of what he might see in them after their vulnerable moment in the dark void.

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel smiled above her plate, listening to him eat behind her back. A tired smile yet it was still there, curving her lips, a sight she preferred the demon couldn't see.

With slow movements, Ivorel ate the pumpkin soup infront of her, spoonful after spoonful, gulping down at the hot thick liquid that managed to completely set her stomach at peace, now that all the darkness was out of her body.

And just as she licked her lips, the demon spoke, making her turn on the chair fast enough to make her dizzy. Was that... A joke? Ivorel could feel a smile ready to be born on her lips.
"You should really try the roasted chicken then." She answered, returning the joke. Looking at the table again, she reached for a plum and an apple. Holding onto the back of her chair, she pushed her self to stand up, taking a moment to find her balance. Holding the fruits in one hand, she used the other to secure the blanket around her shoulders.

Taking small steps, like a baby deer that was too afraid to run after it's mother, Ivorel managed to reach him eventually, laughing at her own weakness. Did she care about him seeing her like that? She normally would, but even though her mind wasn't completely clear yet she knew damn well what had happened between them in the void. And this physical weakness, was nothing compared to the part of her soul she usually kept so well hidden, even she forgot about it!

"The plum or the apple?" She asked extending her hand, the thought of him hurting her crossing her mind as fast as an arrow traveled towards it's target, but missing it by far in the end. And just as she slightly leaned over him, to make sure he could take whatever fruit he preferred, Ivorel's knees gave her away. Another tremor traveled through her body, making her lose her balance, falling forward, the fruits escaping her hand, rolling away.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox watched her like a hawk as she made her way towards him, slow step at a time. The blanket over her shoulders looked like a big fluffy cocoon and Vox blinked away some kind of unknown emotion. Step by step, she came closer, until with his loosened chains, he could have easily lunged at her and snapped her neck in her vulnerable state. Yet he didn't, instead just starring at this baffling woman in front of him as she inched closer.

He saw her lose her balance and stumble forward. His body reacted and without thinking, Ivorel was in his arms, fluffy cocoon and everything. He blinked at her, his mind numb. Her feverish body was flushed against the cool muscles of his chest and her breath came in small pants. A voice screamed inside his mind, 'What are you doing? Just kill her!' Yet he continued to stare unable to bring himself to do so in her feeble state. 'How is she different than the innocent elf you killed earlier today? In fact, she whipped you half to death earlier!' the voice continued. He didn't have an answer for it.

"Is this how you treat all your prisoners? By falling into their lap?" He muttered. He forced his mind into stillness as he placed her on the floor beside him, fighting the urge to wipe his hand on what was left of the fabric of his trousers. He could still feel her flushed skin on his palms. He looked away, looking anywhere but her. His eyes fell on the apple and he plucked it off the floor.

"I'll go for the apple. I've never had one before"

 

[Ririn]

Her heart stopped for a second, body tensing up from the sudden rise of the adrenaline, as a warning thought screamed in her mind, getting her ready to fight for her life but to her surprise, it wasn't necessary. The demon was just holding her between his arms and Ivorel couldn't help but feel small, extremely small in comparison to him as her face rested on his wounded chest. Astonished, Ivorel realised there was another feeling other than fear inside her, other than sickness. It wasn't easy to figure what exactly it was though, but being small and fragile in the lap of her own enemy, didn't feel quite as she thought it would and she felt thankful for the fever that already made her skin hot painting her face red.

Accepting his touch, he allowed him to move her away from him, placing her on the ground next to him as she reached over, pulling the blanket tighter infront of her body, almost feeling it like a shield. But a shield for what, the elf couldn't figure out.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, a bit too fast, looking away, focusing her eyes on the metallic stracture, a solid point in place and time with a very specific meaning behind it. That was good, it provided at least something familiar and known. Something that made sense.

Reaching over, she grasped the closer to her pipe with both hands, pulling her weak body off the ground, putting some space between them. Only then, did she turn around to face him, as he ate the apple.

"You've never had an apple before?" She asked puzzled, frowning. "It was... A very good year, for apples." She said, feeling utterly ludicrous right after. Bending over, she picked up the plum, bitting into it, as she returned to the table, now moving faster than before, not because all of a sudden she was less ill than before, but because he was making her nervous.

Leaving the half eaten plum on the table, she pulled the blanket from her shoulders, leaving it on the back of the chair. With shaking hands, Ivorel untied the corset vest she wore over the button up shirt, letting it fall on the ground as she took a deep breath. With the shirt falling freely on her body, Ivorel looked even slimmer and sick than she did before, like a child that wore the clothes of an adult, unfit for them, unable to fill out the space the clothes provided. And as the shirt hang from her shoulders, it's neck moved just a bit to the right, exposing pale, naked skin covered in light blue tattoos. And that's when Conor, stepped inside the tent, carrying a large wooden bowl of water that smelled like vinegar.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox shrugged, clearing his throat.

"There you go with your apologies again" he murmured, almost out of hearing range. He had expected a jab at his comment, not a gentle apology. He palmed the apple, staring intently at it, feeling the smooth skin under his callused hands. He took a bite, and raised an eyebrow at the crisp taste.

"I am a creature of the Scorched Wastes. Apples grow in the colder forests of Elyria or Omega. So no, I have never had an apple before." He shrugged, as if it didn't matter either way. He almost didn't realize that he was giving her information about his past. Almost. The voice in his head screamed at him; throwing curses at him and belittling him. He ignored it.

His eyes followed her sickly form shuffled towards the chair, like an anchor on a sinking ship. He blinked at her as she removed her corset, unsure of how to feel. If she was her old self, he would have leered at her or made a rude remark. He might even have insinuated that she was trying to seduce him. Yet her trembling hands bespoke of a very different person and he couldn't bring himself to do so. His eyes went to the smooth skin on her neck, immediately drawn by an unusual colour, He leaned in his chains, almost as if he was trying to take a closer look at them.

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel's eyes were drawn to him faster than a bee was drawn to pollen a nice spring morning! Had he just told her something private? Her mind assured her he had indeed done so, but as Conor walked in, Ivorel forced the words coming out of her mouth, back in, forcing herself to smile at her companion's reappearance, but the smile stood still on her lips as she watched Conor's face change colour, turning to red, eyebrows arching in wonderment and perhaps even anger, before he nervously pinned his eyes on the ground.

"You should cover up!" Conor said strictly and for a moment Ivorel just stood, wondering what was he talking about. She had only taken her vest off, nothing wrong with that but when she looked down at herself, she immediately realised exactly what he ment!

Her hand jumped up to the neck of her shirt, pulling it, covering that little blue line and a single tattooed dot that picked through. "It's alright. It's nothing!" She tried to justify it, knowing damn well there was nothing she could say to make it right, and Conor knew that as well.

The Demon's previous, burning words came back at him, making the man even more furious, not with her, but with his own mind for craving to see more of what was forbidden. Yet, like a true man, Conor took it out on Ivorel instead.

"Ifharat de nos numolus!" He spoke in a language Vox couldn't understand, walking up to Ivorel in such a way that you didn't need to understand the exact words to make out his aggressive attitude.
"Ather Conor!" She answered, refusing to back away but reaching over to the blanket, wrapping it around her again.
"Mortig' nos maëdros. Haval nos!" He insisted, raising his tone, slamming the wooden bowl down on the table.
"Belgon!" Ivorel yelled, pointing at the entrance with sparks of rage in her grey eyes, making Conor finally turn around leaving, letting her stand there breathing heavily, clasping the blanket so hard her knuckles had lost all colour, turning white.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox watched the scene unfold, lips in a tight line. He could feel Conor's irritation and anger towards Ivorel and he couldn't help but feel like he was to blame. He didn't know how that made him feel. He watched the exchange with impassive eyes as the male jabbed at Ivorel, furious at something Vox couldn't quite understand. He pointed a finger at her exposed shoulder as she covered it up. Vox raised an eyebrow. Was lover-boy... embarrassed? He stormed out, and Ivorel looked worse for wear.

He was silent for a while, eyes on her pale form, words whirling in his head. He shifted his position on the ground uncomfortably.

"Something tells me that your friend-" He emphasized the word "-is excessively anal." He glanced at her shoulder again, now covered "What's the deal with that ink?"

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel could feel his eyes on her but refused to look back at him. He had already seen too much, why things like that kept happening, providing the demon with more ground to step on in order to provoke her? He hadn't done it yet but he would eventually, right? He seemed to enjoy finding out where it hurt and poking the wound afterwards!

She shook her head, ashamed that Conor was right, ashamed that he had in fact seen the tattoos.

"What the deal with your ink?" She answered back, defensively but not no anger could be traced in her tone. She was too exhausted for that! In fact, too exhausted for any of it!
She turned her back on him, momentarily, to fill up a cup with water she brought to him, just leaving it on the ground for him to take or not take.

"Our rules are strict, so he is strict!" She went on saying, though that wasn't really explaining anything, rather it sounded exactly as it was. A very poor excuse on behalf of Conor for his reaction. Ivorel dumped a cloth in the vinegar water, taking it with her as she returned to the mattress on the floor, laying down, covering her forehead with the soaked cloth.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox's lips quirked at her attempt at throwing back the question at him. Unconsciously, he ran his chained hand over the intricate symbols and patterns on his forearm. The glyphs had meaning yes, but not ones he was ashamed of.

"Tell you what, tell me about your ink and I will tell you about mine. Sounds fair, no?" He said teasingly. Then he continued, distaste in his tone. "I don't think strictness is his problem"

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel let her grey eyes wonder on the roof of the tent, taking in every small detail of the fabric, watching where the light from outside pierced through, dust swirling around, slowly reaching the ground, like a lonesome feather in the wind, as if that was the most important thing she could be doing right now, as she layed in a feverish state, contemplating the demon's offer.
Honesty for honesty!

It could possibly work, but did she trust him to keep his word? Or would she end up having said more than she should, again, while he laughed at her trust? Speaking of the ink on her body wasn't the same as showing it to him, right? There was no reason to go on explaining her own markings, she could just talk about why it was important for them to stay hidden under clothes.

"Some of us have ink markings that go on telling stories of our past, our present and future." She begun saying softly, like it was of no importance to her, eyes still wondering on the roof of the red tent. "They speak of one's powers, describing the abilities that come with those powers. Where I am from, they are a map to read somebody's soul. For my tribe specifically, they are also a part of worshiping our Goddess. We permanently mark our bodies in her honour trying to win over her favour, starting from a young age, painting further as we grow old, with each milestone or achievement we accomplish." She concluded, slipping into silence until she realised, the demon had made a comment about Conor she didn't fully understand which only reminded her of the bits of conversation she had heard between the two men as she was sleeping.

"Like I said, the rules for those markings are strict, not only in my tribe. It's forbidden to show them to just... Anybody. That's why we keep our bodies covered up at all times. He knows the rules, that's all. Why would you say it's anything more than that?" She asked in honest wonder.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox listened silently as she explained the sacred meaning of her tattoos. He tilted his head slightly to one side, curious. He had asked her not fully expecting an answer and he was surprised at her openness. He wondered if she was that desperate for information, or if it was just the fever talking. Still, a deal was a deal. He didn't really mind her knowing anyway, it was not as if she would be able to decipher their meaning once he explained them to her and be able to derive further information.

"I guess then we are not that different then. Yet my tribe don't hide their markings, but display them for all to see, a testament to our life and achievements. The ink tells of our history, both of who we were and what we have done. There are glyphs and symbols for most things in our language and every person has their own unique glyph, though it can change throughout one's life." Vox traced a symbol on his collarbone, inked black and red. It was a pattern that swirled like a demon horn yet who's edges were dipped in crimson blood. The Old Blood. The glyph represented Vox himself.

"Even the people we meet are inked on our skin, to remind us of that encounter and our relationship with them" He absentmindedly traced glyphs of the people in his past. "My tribe doesn't keep history books. Our skins are the living breathing history of ourselves." his hand went to his forearm, where it depicted his mighty victory of the Sand Wyrm as it intertwined with Uzuk's defeat.

"We ink ourselves throughout our life as we achieve and fail, layering on stories as we age. Then, when we join our ancestors in The Great Desert Hunt, we can remember who we were and keep our mind as we hunt along our ancestors for eternity." He fell silent then, somber. Was there any point in them now, when he was the last person alive to be able to decipher them? Would the ancestors even accept him in The Hunt when he died?

Vox blinked away those thoughts as she spoke again about Conor. He forced a teasing smile back onto his face, trying to bring back his old self.
"I don't think it is the rules he cares about. I think he cares that a demon saw the markings of his lover." He tossed the comment at her, like a fisherman casting his line, he poked to see what her opinion of his words would be.

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel didn't move as he spoke. She remained tucked under the warm blankets, eyes still open, still looking for something that she wouldn't find in the tent.

No, they weren't so different, were they? Products of the same war, two people that have suffered, two people that took joy in shedding the enemy's blood, two people with symbols on their bodies that marked who they were in life and what they have been through. Ivorel closed her eyes, the demon's markings floating phantom images before her eyelids. What did they mean exactly? Who were those he had met and what had he been through that were worthy of an eternal place upon his skin?

"We hide because such symbols should only be seen by those closest to us. By those that are something more than friends or companions, as a way to show respect and trust." Ivorel paused again, opening her eyes licking her dry lips. The fever was making it hard for her to focus yet the words fell from her mouth as naturally as the waters followed the stream towards a waterfall.
"I know mates that haven't see each other with no clothes." She admitted, wondering silently about why that was. What was it they were hiding from each other? Was it a failure or a victory that brought more shame?

His next words though made her swift around, pushing her body and head up to look at him, supporting her weight on her elbow, catching the cloth before it fell down. Ivorel laughed, almost as full heartily she had laugh back in the void.

"You think we are lovers?" She asked still smiling, shaking her head. "He was angry about you potentially seeing something we don't show even among our own, but it wasn't that kind of anger! We are not lovers" she repeated "so he isn't jealous!" She concluded, keeping her gaze upon him, taking in more of the patterns on his skin she could make out.

 

[Roaring_Dragon]

Vox's eyes lingered on her covered shoulder, as if he could see the traces of the blue traced ink on her smooth skin. He was even more curious now.

"That is something I cannot understand. Why must one be ashamed of themselves enough to not even share it with the ones closest to them?" Yet his voice sounded hollow even to him.

The notion of hiding one's tattoos and scars was so foreign to him, it wasn't something his tribe did. In the tribe, you could read a person's skin as soon as you met them, and you understand them as well as yourself. Their life stories, relationships and emotions were there for all to see. But he also knew how hard that was. One could never hide from their own self either, when their whole being was out in the open. His hand went to his side unconsciously as he traced a scene on the right of his rib-cage, almost like he was hugging himself.. A glyph was tattooed over an over in the flowing script as it intertwined with images and and landscapes. The glyph for dishonor and shame. He remembered the hot prick of the needle as he rented himself on his flesh, like a sinner looking for atonement.

He returned his attention to her words. "From the way he looked at you when you were sleeping, I could have bet money on the fact that you two were lovers. And when I asked him about it, he got very touchy." He shrugged again, but a smile played on his lips.

 

[Ririn]

Ivorel followed the motion of his hand in silence, wondering what that symbols on his ribcage ment for him to want to feel it under his fingers between their talk. Something that ment a lot or something that he wanted to forget?

"I don't know why hide it from someone as important as a mate." She admitted, shrugging her shoulders. She always believed that a mate was someone you held very close to your heart, somebody who was family and showing every part of yourself to them was a sign of your love towards them.

But then the demon spoke again, making her eyebrows arch in wonderment. That's what they were talking about as she was sleeping? If Conor and she were lovers?

"Is that why he held his sword to your heart? Because you were trying to provoke him about me?" She asked amused "I think you might misjudged his protective stand but even if he did look at me... Like that" Ivorel said refusing to use any word that would imply Conor was lusting after her while she was volnurable, sick and asleep "I'm sure you made sure he wouldn't do anything." She teased with a fade smile, implying that was why the demon had asked about their relationship making Conor focus on him instead of her.