[IC] Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.

[WilsonTurner]

Aulfr was discussing the possible setting up of a trade route to ship in more spiced cider and perhaps the tales of some new weapon in the distant seas when he heard the doors open and close again. Glancing up from his discussion between his father, two Jarls, and himself, he caught Aleksandra walk in. Immediately, he turned his attention back on their conversation- before what he just saw registered, and he looked up, staring.

The other three nobles glanced as well, and stared in the same way as he did. Unlike Aulfr, though, they were staring with more open admiration, and less honorable emotions, while the Oberjarl attempted some amount of professionalism. Aulfr stared with a deeper, more piercing gaze, eyebrows lowered into a more contemplative expression.

He was trying to figure out why the sudden change. Combat wear, if pleasing to the eye, for the past feasts, and then she suddenly decides to dress up? He couldn't tell if she was trying to impress him after the how they keep waking up (and neither of them trying to separate from the other very quickly, nor sleeping elsewhere), or maybe if she was trying to get people more focused on her and less off of him.

Either way, all his watchers, admirers, and stalkers turned towards what captured their target's interest so much, and so eventually, the majority of the room was admiring, leering, or glaring at Aulfr's escort, now standing at his elbow.

So with a smile that he didn't really need to force very much, he greeted her, flicking his eyes up and down her and her curves, and welcomed her to the feast. Pale skin combined with a dress that hugged the curves and left little to imagination, combined with her scars? It was, compared to what was offered in Noxus, exotic, since she was Ardanian and had such smooth pale skin, and tough, as shown by her scars, which would only make her more attractive to a Noxan, and her grace was that of an elegant warrior's.

No wonder the entire room was staring at her, if out of the corner of their eyes.

Conversations slowly started up again, though it could be noted that now, the majority of the people who originally had their back to the front now weren't, keeping very careful eyes watching Aulfr and his pretty. Aulfr was starting to feel like maybe, this little stunt that Aleksandra pulled would give a great, great boost to his and her reputation and political influence.

Then a group of three- three whom he had mentally dubbed, "The Big Three" due to their extensive power, wealth, and influence among other Jarls, mostly loyal to the Oberjarl- approached the table. Welcoming them, Aulfr asked what they wanted- and was cut off as the smartest, smallest of the three (still about as large as the bigger Xhangs) stepped forward, interrupting.

"With all due respect, Aulfr Volsung, I would like a demonstration of the control you have over your new pet. We have heard disturbing rumors, and wish nothing more than to... dispel them."

Aulfr readily replied, "Why of course, Jarl Ylred, it's your right to ensure the safety of you, yours, and your superiors."

The man's small smile suddenly got a whole lot colder.

"Yes... of course."

"Would you like me to beat her, publicly? I know that the last couple demonstrations against those who have spoken out against her must have been very frightening for those of you who might disagree with the new things I'm bringing in. I assure you, I am her better-"

"No, that would not be necessary, Aulfr Volsung. Rather, we want you to kiss her. If you've got her under as tight of a leash as you might think, surely it wouldn't be too hard?"

The man smiled at the suddenly-very-frozen Aulfr. Aulfr turned slowly to Aleksandra, smile frozen on place. He was like so both out of some amount of dread, and out of excitement and anticipation and nervousness. He couldn't say that he hadn't imagined kissing her before- he'd never admit to it, even though even the women in the room probably had.

He stared at her for a moment, before waving her over. Like an obedient servant, she did so, stepping well within reach, impassive as a snake. Or as impassive as a potato- they're both pretty damn intimidating anyhow, even when impassive.

And, because she was just so damned short, he had to lean down to reach her, face-to-face. His right hand came up to brush aside some of the hair falling over her face, hand coming to rest to cup her cheek, fingers splayed, thumb aligned with the edge of her jawbone.

And then he kissed her, those inexplicably soft lips, remaining just as impassive as she was, even so far as wiping out any glints in his eyes- he may have hated it, he may have loved it, for all his audience knew. But, since his right hand was hidden from the crowd because of his left shoulder and her right shoulder facing the crowd, he couldn't help but reach up a bit with his thumb, and brush against the side of her mouth an instant before he pulled away.

He'd never admit that he enjoyed it.

Dropping his right hand, and turning back to the crowd, he demanded, "And is there anything else you require, Jarl? Have I put your dear, dear mind at ease, yes?"

The man gave a slight head-bow, replying somewhat mutedly, "My fears have been soothed, m'Lord, of course."

He caught the hint of a glare on the man's impassive face, as himself and the Big Three stepped away, and went back to their conversations. The suddenly-quiet room just as suddenly burst into conversation again, eager to act as if the entire room hadn't just watched.

[Fennec]

Aleksandra stood beside and slightly behind Aulfr's chair, as she always did, eating what little bits of food he handed her so she could actually enjoy some of the dinner. She covertly loosened her daggers and scoped out escape routes and such, completely tuning out the dinner conversation. It was never anything she had to pay attention to, because foreign affairs and women whispering mean things about her height were nothing special. If she needed to know anything, it was whom to kill, and Aulfr would tell her that after the feast.

And it was this tuning out that became her disadvantage, because Aulfr motioned her closer. She realized most of the conversation had died down and three Jarls were standing there, the smallest with a crafty look on his face. Everyone was looking at her. She made sure her confusion was hidden away behind a mask of impassivity as she turned to Aulfr, gazing up at him expectantly. He looked a little nervous to her, which put her on edge. What was he about to ask her to—

And he was kissing her. Oh Saints, why on earth was he kissing her?! She was certain she made some sort of squeaking noise, and her face was on fire. She was probably red to the tips of her toes. His hands were on her face and she was about to break them, but then she realized how gentle they were. How soft. Like his mouth on hers, moving just a little, sending warm shivers down her back. I want him to kiss my neck, she thought.

And then she beat her traitorous thought to a pulp. There would be none of that! She despised this. She definitely felt vile as he lightly caressed the corner of her mouth. She'd rather break her own fingers than feel his warm breath on her cheek, and see the desire in his eyes that made her feel triumph rather than disgust. Yes, she absolutely hated kissing him. There could be no doubt.

And then it was over, and she was once again standing impassively behind Aulfr's chair as he carried on with the feast. All the color had drained from the room, and the two of them were the only bright spots. Her lips felt warm, and so did her face and chest and everything else. She was warm and shivery everywhere, which she was sure meant she was ill. Maybe he'd given her some disease. She knew there was a disease you could get from kissing, there had to be. Why else would she feel this way?

The rest of the feast was frustratingly slow, and the walk back to Aulfr's chambers took a million centuries. And then the door closed behind them with a click of the lock, and all was tensely silent. She was staring at the wall, unable to bring herself to look at Aulfr. And then, "You enjoyed kissing me." It was not a question. He'd been too gentle, and then he'd rubbed his thumb over her lips, with that look on his face... She paused, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. "You enjoyed kissing me. Just answer me yes or no." She turned to look at him, at once both determined and somewhat afraid. "Would you like to kiss me again?"

They woke up tangled together and neither of them ever wanted to move away. He wouldn't let anyone else talk to him or be near him the way he allowed her to do. She couldn't share a bed with or change clothes around any other man, and he made her want to embrace every passionate feeling she'd been shoving down since she was twelve. If she could feel safe enough kissing him, maybe it could lead to her living the life she dreamed of after she killed her brothers. She could fall in love, have sex, have children. It was all she'd ever wanted. She wanted to want it again.

[WilsonTurner]

Aulfr said little in the remaining conversations of the feast- for what reasons, no one could accurately say, not even Aulfr. He watched the room's going-ons, political alliances made and broken, trades struck, gossip and rumors discussed. There was not much left to say in this evening; the feast had done its purpose, and had run its course. The Oberjarl raised his hands, and called out for attention. Moments later, they were dismissed.

Aulfr waved minimally for Aleksandra to follow, pointedly avoiding to look at her. He was up and striding through the parting crowd almost immediately; whispers started, but were startled shut by a pointed, passive glance from Aulfr. He stalked out of the hall, his less-than-pleased vibes coming more from intuition than any sign of anything physical.

Five minutes later saw a maid scrubbing new bloodstains, another maid hurrying for a full meal, and Aulfr stepping into his room after letting Aleksandra in first. When she asked him that heart-flipping question, "Would you like to kiss me again?" plus those statements about him enjoying, he paused and looked down at her.

He waited long enough for the meal to be prepared and brought in; he took the tray directly from the maid, not bothering to let her set it down- the mere act sent her wide-eyed and running, because no upper status person had ever once done such a thing. He set the tray on the closest thing on the nearest thing- his nightstand- and then faced Aleksandra again.

He leaned down slightly, as if taunting or teasing her, put both hands on her shoulders, and pulled her a little closer.

Then he spoke, "Of course I enjoyed it... and I'd like to do it again."

He gave her a smile, and then gently pushed her away, before stepping around her and heading to his table. Arriving, he started taking off the ridiculous clothing.

[Fennec]

Aleksandra didn't know what she'd been expecting. Of course he wasn't going to kiss her just because she asked him such a thing. She just watched him for a moment, frustrated enough to want to tear her hair out, before shaking her head in defeat. It was a horrid idea to express any sort of romantic interest in him. She was an assassin hellbent on killing her brothers, and he was a warrior prince determined to conquer her homeland. He'd only ever use her for his own gain.

There were hundreds of perfectly nice men out there, all with mostly honorable intentions. She reassured herself of all this as she entered the washroom for a lukewarm bath. Plenty of kind, courageous, sweet men who'd dote on her every need if she asked. All perfectly honest. All perfectly... boring.

She sighed and let the water fill the basin as she pulled off her dress. She wanted to tear the thing to shreds for all the good it had done her. She didn't want to love someone who was nice and gentle and boring as the abyss. She needed someone who knew the thrill of the fight, who understood the scent of sweat and blood and the sound of someone dying. She needed someone with a heart very nearly made of stone, someone who knew when to show their feelings and when not to.

She needed Aulfr, and it killed her.

She spent an hour in the bathroom trying to hide from Aulfr, but the water began to freeze her. Which really only made her think of how warm she was each morning, tangled up with him. It was maddening how much she thought of him, and she needed it to stop. Maybe she had to kiss him. To convince herself she couldn't really have feelings for such a brute. Yes, that was it! One kiss and she'd put such thoughts out of her head.

She climbed out of the water and dried off quickly, pulling on her nearest set of clothes. She paused just before she opened the door, gathering her courage. Then she mentally slapped herself. Courage? She wasn't going to fight her brothers, she was going to kiss someone. She didn't need courage for that! So, before she could talk herself out of it, she exited the bathroom and strode over to Aulfr, a determined look on her face.

Saints, he probably thought she was coming to kill him, finally.

Before he could act, she grabbed his face in both hands and leaned in, kissing him in a way that made it very clear she hadn't ever tried to kiss anyone before. Too much spit, kissing too hard. She was scared. She had to stop and take a breath. She wiped off his lip, too hurried to say an apology, and kissed him properly. Gently, only brushing her lips over his. Her grip on his face loosened until she held him gently.

And then it was over. She pulled away, her face about three thousand shades of red. "You said you wanted to kiss me again. Well, if you don't mind my saying so, I think the reason you haven't died yet is because no one can crack that thick skull of yours. I wanted you to kiss me. Though I don't know why I expected you to realize that," she sighed.

[Fennec]

.

[WilsonTurner]

Aulfr watched her out of the corner of his eye as she stared after him, a mixture of emotions flashing across her face. Then, abruptly, she spun about and dove for the bathroom, shutting the door behind her as if hiding from what he had said. He himself felt a flicker of indecision, of conflict within. On the one hand, he vaguely wanted to go after her and set things right. Opposing that is his usual apathy slash patience- he enjoyed dropping something on someone, and then watching how they reacted to it.

He went with his usual route- watching the reactions. So he openly stared at the door to the washroom, half-expecting her to throw it open and charge back in, but nothing happened. After several seconds, he dismissed the notion; she was going to stay in there for some time, it seemed.

So he pulled out his very well sharpened sword, laid it on the table, and reached for his wardrobe for a small bottle of oil and a rag. Moments later, he was busying himself with oiling down the sword, scrubbing off any little specks of rust that had begun accumulating. He even took up a light humming, unintentionally happier, softer.

Then he snapped out of the humming, realizing what he was doing, and shut himself down again. It was work; he was not feeling pleasant, of course not. He just needed her to be on his side, and her falling for him is making him happy because that’s exactly what he needs- a lovesick loyal puppy. Yeah, that’s the entirety of it. Nothing more, nothing less- she’s a tool, who he’ll keep an eye on and get her to do what he wants. That’s all there is to it.

He had trouble keeping his thoughts straight, so he didn’t think at all, and focused on his sword.

He eventually finished it, maybe fifteen minutes later, and he switched to several of his other weapons. By the time Aleksandra re-emerged from her hidey hole, he had a dozen swords, over two dozen daggers, and three different bows laid out on his large table- it was now much more obvious why he had such a table in his room, especially so close to his wardrobe. All three bows were unstrung; he took care in placing them and wrapping their drawstrings up and stowing them away in a small leather pouch. Likewise, each scabbard was laid out next to its respective sword.

He turned at the sound of the door opening. As he always did, he took in details- and despite her determined step, she didn’t look too terribly confident, nor hostile. He set down the sword he was holding, halfway out of a scabbard, and wiped his hands with the rag, tossing it down on top of the sword.

He opened his mouth to say something to the woman, but was cut off as she very sloppily pressed her lips against his. He was both, for a brief moment, stunned and pleased. And then she drew away. He took a moment to recollect his thoughts, and opened his mouth again, so he could say, “Well that was interesting.” Instead, she wiped off his lip and then kissed him again- proper-like, this time.

When she drew away, much slower and intimate this time, he stared down at her, unreadable for a moment. Then the edge of his mouth flicked up in a momentary half-smirk, and he questioned, “Done this time? Got quite the fever for Volsung, do ya?”

He gave a little snort, and continued.

“I knew what you wanted me to do. Don’t mean I’m gonna do it, of course, more likely that I’m just goin’ta walk right around you.”

[Fennec]

Aleksandra frowned and punched his arm, lightly so she didn't make him angry. "I do not have a fever for you." What an ass. She wasn't even going to tell him that that had been her first kiss. "That was my first kiss. Let me off easier, would you?" Her first willing kiss, anyways. Damn. What was wrong with her? She grit her teeth and grabbed her own weapons, then sat down across from him and started oiling the blades of her daggers.

She calmed down slowly, until all she cared about was the motion of the rag on her blades and the sound of Aulfr breathing across the table. They'd done this a few times, took care of their weapons in the quiet like this. It was peaceful, and she didn't have to stumble over her words with him like she usually did. She didn't like talking, not really. Words were fickle and easily misunderstood. Actions though? Clear as crystal.

Finally, she set to polishing her staff. It was thin and tall, a little larger than she was, and tipped with light metals at each end for cracking open skulls. She polished the wood twice a day in she could, with a mix of vinegar, lemon oil, and black tea. It didn't smell very pretty, but it made the wood gleam and strengthened it. There wasn't a single bloodstain on her staff, and she made sure it stayed that way. It was a work of art as well as a deadly weapon.

After taking care of most of her gear, she grabbed her mask and started wiping it down, cleaning off the bloodstains and, pricking her thumb with one of her daggers, she added her own. A drop here and there, like bloody tears running out of the eyes, and a little bit around the muzzle and teeth. When she was finished, it looked decently frightening. She grinned at the grinning wolf mask and turned it so Aulfr could look. She shook it at him and growled menacingly. Mostly she sounded like a puppy.

"Do you think I should start howling when I kill someone? Maybe growl before the kill?" She looked into the wolf's eyes, an amused expression on her face. "They really are like sheep, you know. Half the time, they piss themselves the moment they see my mask. I can't imagine what my prey would do if I growled like a wolf as I approached. Then there are the fools who know my reputation and fight me anyways. Just because I'm a small woman." She shook her head and smirked, setting her mask down.

[WilsonTurner]

Aulfr chuckled at her denial- he actually showed emotion!- and watched her with a bemused expression as she furiously set herself to a new task, ignoring him. He waited a minute for her to do something else other than her very motivated cleaning, but eventually he gave up on seeing if she'll do something else, and returned to his original spot.

Sitting down across from her, he picked up a sword he hadn't used in about a year, and began polishing it. It was a beauty- given to him by one of his now-loyal Jarls when he raided an unfamiliar ship- supposedly called a khopesh. Either way, it was a unique sword, one that he didn't have anyone to teach him to properly use. Hence the reason why he never used it- it could certainly be a formidable weapon, but he didn't have the experience to wield it as well as any of his other weapons.

Finishing with the khopesh, he went on to several of his throwing knives, and then on to his last bow.

Finally finishing up almost all the weapons he had laid out, he set down the bow, and stood up. All throughout his oiling and whetting, he had been thinking, real deep-like in ways that he normally didn't. It was then, maybe an hour or three later, he had come to a decision- hence why he was standing. Without a pause, he stepped out from his chair, walked around the table to the focused Aleskandra, and stood right next to her.

He waited for her to glance up at him, and when she did, he leaned down and kissed her right back- somewhat more experienced, but not by much. Either way, he made sure he was gentle and caring, and put as much happy-feeling into it as possible- which was, for him, one of the most foreign things in the world. Then he straightened a little, looking down at her, and asked, "You were saying?"

[Fennec]

Aleksandra had returned to maintaining her gear, having gotten very little response from Aulfr. She figured he either didn't find her antics funny or he was so entranced with cleaning his weapons that he didn't care. She'd been thinking about her horribly botched kiss and wondering what Aulfr might be thinking about it. Nothing, probably. The man could be swarmed by naked women begging for him to please them and all he'd think about would be his next mission or how he'd conquer his next country. He couldn't possibly be thinking about that stupid kiss. He'd hardly looked at her for almost two hours.

Which was why she was very surprised when Aulfr stopped beside her. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating from him. She turned, raising an eyebrow. She was about to ask him something snarky, but she found that her lips were very suddenly occupied. She made some high-pitched and embarrassing noise, then reached up to grab a fistful of his shirt. She didn't know whether to headbutt him or pull him closer. She chose option two.

She gave a soft sigh as he pulled away, feeling like those sickly sweet, swooning women in books and fairy tales. She couldn't help herself. There were no 'sparks' and there was no passionate fire in her heart, but kissing him felt good. It was warm and felt comfortable, like putting on her well-worn boots or strapping on her daggers. Something she could do a thousand times and it would always make her feel right, and safe. It was all she'd ever wanted, really. To be with someone and feel safe with them.

She blinked up at Aulfr for a moment, then stood up and gathered her weapons. She was nodding, trying to come up with something to say. "That was, well. It was pleasant. I enjoyed that. Very nice," she rambled, hanging her weapons up beside the bed like always. "Are you going to be doing that a lot? I might need some warning if you are, because I'm not always comfortable with being touched like that unless I know beforehand and-" She stopped, her eyes coming to rest on the khopesh laying on the table. "Is that a khopesh?"

[WilsonTurner]

Aulfr felt a flutter when she grabbed him, and he ruthlessly shoved it down, not knowing what it was or why it was making him feel weird. But she let go of his hair, which let him calm down and not feel so damned odd. Didn't stop him from smirking down at her, though, as she stumbled for things to say.

He very carefully took note, though, on just how flustered she was, whatwith sighing and rambling.

He glanced at the rare sword, and then back to Aleksandra. Smirking even more, he leaned past Aleksandra [intentionally leaning a little closer to her than he needed to] to grasp the grip of the sword. Standing straight and tall again, he swung the sword off to the side, before pointing it straight up between them, allowing its shape to be seen.

"Oh, so it's called a khopesh? Interesting design, excellent craftsmanship. I'd use it more if I had a teacher knowing the proper technique, and I'm too busy to train myself in a completely new weapon."

He turned it, examining the blade, and then refocused his eyes on Aleksandra's, standing just beyond the blade.

"Why do you ask?"

[Fennec]

Aleksandra smiled and reached up, tracing the shape of the odd, snake-like blade. She was glad to have this distraction from the kiss, even though she could still feel the tension hovering between them. "I'm asking because I want it," she dared to say. "I'm not very skilled at swordplay, not unless I have a khopesh in my hands. It requires more finesse than a normal sword, and much more style. This one is beautiful, a masterpiece. Almost better than your own sword. The steel isn't of the same quality, but it's tough." Feeling bold, she took the sword from him, ignoring the warmth of his hand as she did.

She took a few steps away and played with the sword for a few moments, getting used to the way it way balanced and the way it had to be held. Then she fell into a crouch, her eyes closed and the khopesh drawn back behind her. She began fighting imaginary enemies, swinging and twisting the sword with all the grace and precision of a striking snake. Oh, how she wished she had a long dagger in her other hand. The combination was nearly unstoppable. Draw this enemy close with the curve of the sword, plunge the dagger into his throat and swing away to cut around the knee of another. What a lovely, powerful dance it was.

She realized she'd been more waltzing than fighting, and that there was no grin on her face but a peaceful smile. She faltered to a stop, her eyes flying open. She was embarrassed by how she'd let herself go like that, and turned to look at Aulfr. "I'd like to have this sword. Unless you'd rather I teach you how to use it. But you'd need to put a lot of effort into it. The khopesh is a difficult weapon to use, not for simple stabbing and cutting like normal swords, and you'd need to learn how to move faster and tighter than you do now."

[WilsonTurner]

His mouth twitched downward, into a frown, mirroring his scowling eyebrows. A glint in his eyes shown for a moment- the kind that he got when he felt he was being disrespected. But he controlled himself; he moved away from the thunderous expression he was donning, back to a more passive interest. He still didn't like the fact that she just took one of his prized weapons right out from his hand, but he would give her the benefit of the doubt. For the moment. Regardless of the kiss.

He tried to let himself be amused by the increasingly distant Aleksandra, going so far as to get a little half-smirk. Stepping back, Aulfr gave her more room to do her thing, and he took careful note of her movements, of how she moved to the sword, with the sword. Purely for future reference, of course. Nothing more or less; certainly not. Their kiss hadn't changed anything.

He found his lips tugging downward slightly as he repeatedly lost focus on his original purpose of studying her, caught up in... other thoughts.

He stepped closer again when she finished, looking down at the shorter figure with his arms crossed. He waited several moments, before replying.

"You'll have to convince me later if you want me to give up my rarest sword." Moving in a firm, confident way- yet oddly gentle- he took back his sword, silently filing away her advice about how to use it. He already had several ideas on how to adapt his skills with a particular weapon to suit the khopesh; adaptivity was a man's best friend. Or in Aleksandra's case, a woman's.

[Fennec]

The rest of the night passed, mostly uneventful. They sparred, had a proper dinner, and went to bed. Something drove her to lay a bit closer to him instead of futilely perching herself at the very edge as she did each night. He'd proven himself to be honorable and they'd just end up clinging to each other anyways. She knew it would keep happening unless they slept in separate beds, which didn't look to be a possibility.

She was proven right the next morning when she woke to find Aulfr cuddling her like a child's stuffed toy. She was almost that small compared to him, something she only just then realized she sort of liked. Not that she was short and slender, but that he was tall and broad, like a big tree. It made for a fun contrast when they sparred. And if she were ever honest with herself, she might have admitted that she liked that he was so big and strong, because she wanted someone to be strong for her sometimes.

But of course, that was absurd. She didn't need another person's strength. She was plenty strong.

Still, it seemed she was stuck being snuggled to death until Aulfr woke up, so she settled in and brought a hand up, running very gentle fingers through his too-soft hair. She leaned her cheek on top of his head, which was a warm and heavy weight just above her heart. It was sort of unsettling to have his face so close to her breasts, but it was comforting at the same time. She wondered if his dreams were moving to the beat of her heart, a peaceful and steady rhythm.

A lock of her wild black hair slipped into her vision and she blew it out of her face. It came to settle on her shoulder... and then past it. Oh Saints. Had her hair really gotten that long? It was a beast to tame each morning, and normally she would sheer it close to her head, but still long enough to be feminine. Now it fell past the tops of her shoulders, longer than she'd let it grow in years. She'd been sailing with pirates last time it was so long.

She glanced at her fingers, still buried in Aulfr's hair, and smiled. She hardly even gave thought to what she was doing as she leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing the hair from his sleeping face. "I'll need to coerce you into letting me cut your hair," she murmured softly to herself, her voice barely a whisper.

[WilsonTurner]

A moment after the words left her lips, Aulfr jerked. He detected sounds that didn't belong; didn't match his environment, and so training and instinct kicked in and woke him up. Almost as quickly as his mind snapped awake, did it relax again, as he interpreted what he heard, somewhat, and identified it as something much less sinister and deadly as an assassin aiming to kill him would be.

His eyes had snapped open, but now they drooped again, finding Aleksandra's. He didn't realize where he was holding her; a moment later, his eyes really did widen a bit, and he let go of her, pushing her away somewhat, as if apologizing for pulling her so close- again. It was something they both were used to- but he was groggy, and he suddenly admitted to himself that he liked Aleksandra. Before she could react, he reached forward again, and pulled her closer again- this time, his face to hers.

Right off the bat, sleepy-eyed and with fingers that he just now realized were buried in his hair, he pulled her soft, though scarred, skin closer. He gave her a long, purely instinctual kiss, lightly pressing against his lips against hers.

Somewhere in the back of Aulfr's mind, he counted off the seconds- and on the fifth one, he withdrew. He stared at her for a moment, blinked, and realized what he just did. He continued to stare at her curiously for a moment, oddly open, vulnerable, maybe even innocent. But then his face shut down again, regaining a little bit of the hardness that his turned his somewhat rough face more into the appearance of stone- closer to how he usually is.

He rolled out of bed, and wordlessly strode back to his window- his usual spot in the mornings. And try as he might, he couldn't help but the elevated heart rate that persisted his efforts to cast aside his action.

[Fennec]

Aleksandra, as usual, had the urge to push him away when he kissed her. His weight on her and the look on his face made her think of that morning the week prior. Having him kiss her in his bed felt almost wrong. But her own body betrayed her, her fingers burrowing deeper in his hair. Just feeling the soft strands fall forward to brush her face was enough to lessen her unease.

It was over quickly. Or it felt quick. She didn't know how long kissing was supposed to last. She was still sort of dazed as Aulfr climbed out of bed to perform his morning warm-up. She sighed and closed her eyes, tempted to burrow beneath the blankets and sleep for the rest of the day. No feasts and no missions, so there was hardly anything to do. But she did have to cut her hair, and she was hoping Aulfr would let her trim his.

So she dragged herself from bed and padded to the door to call for breakfast- along with some coffee. She loved the bitter, energy-rich drink and was often in a foul mood if she didn't get some in the morning. Even better, it wasn't all that hard to come by. Banti sold ships full of the beans at low costs, so she had as much coffee as she wanted. Especially here in the castle.

While she waited for breakfast, she joined Aulfr in his daily warm-up. She'd watched him do it several times, so she mimicked some of his movements and threw in a few of her own. She didn't speak. She felt peaceful, at ease with the man beside her. She listened to their combined movements and their breathing, and enjoyed the warmth of the morning sun streaming in to caress her face.

Once they finished, she took his hand before he could move away and turned toward him. It was terribly stupid of her to keep touching him and acting sweet on him like this, but she was stuck here for at least a year. Even if he was just using her for politics, he was reciprocating her actions and he was doing it in a way that felt safe to her. She'd keep on with it until he asked her to stop.

She reached up and grabbed his collar to pull him closer to her. She was still on her tiptoes when she kissed him, her fingers burrowed in his hair once more to keep him there. She lightly scratched her nails over his scalp, kissing him longer than he'd kissed her. She was getting better at it. After a few long moments, she pulled away just enough to speak. "It's going to be a lazy day," she murmured against his lips. "We could both use a trim. Would you let me?" she asked, brushing his hair from his eyes.

[WilsonTurner]

Aulfr, turned to her, surprised that she'd lay a hand on him. He did relax as he noted a non-threatening stance, expression, and gesture. He eyed her as she approached, unsure if he wanted to stop her or let her or go farther. He actually felt a brief moment of panic- before he relaxed again when she kissed him. Silently, he screamed at himself- emotion will get in the way, she's technically the enemy who he is now using. But-

She was making demands of him! His sleep-addled brain took a moment longer than normal to recognize what she was asking about, before squinting at her, confused and wondering why exactly she wanted to mess with his hair. He absently reached up and felt his hair; brushing his hand against hers as he felt his own hair, he realized that, oh, so it really was long.

He frowned slightly at her, unused at someone caring. It wasn't really a Noxan thing to do, cut hair- even the Oberjarl sported a decently-lengthy hair for a man.

Her second kiss decided it for him, though he made a show of not deciding at first. The stared into her eyes, and finally replied, "Fine, you get to 'trim' my hair." The mere act of speaking when she was so close brushed the edges of his lips against hers. She was playing a dangerous game; they both were.

He heard movement outside the door, a moment before the latch turned and it started opening. His head whipped over to stare at the entering, now wide-eyed maid, and he immediately pointed and gestured at his bed. Obediently, the maid ducked her head and set the tray of a meal for two on his former sleeping place, and Aulfr ordered, "You saw nothing. Begone."

[Fennec]

Aleksandra had already jumped away, embarrassed to be seen so close to Aulfr like that. Aulfr seemed concerned about it as well. She cleared her throat and brushed hair hair from her eyes. She wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind. She also wanted to kiss him again. And again. It was somewhat disconcerting how she could go from fearing advances from any man to wanting to kiss one all day. It was something she'd been starved for. So rarely did she touch anyone kindly, she realized. And so rarely did anyone touch her. Not unless she was fighting or being healed.

She moved around Aulfr as she contemplated all of this, and set the breakfast tray on the table. She took a seat in her sewing chair and snatched up her mug of coffee first. She drowned it in cream and sugar as she always did, until it hardly tasted like coffee at all. Then she settled in to eat, staring at Aulfr unabashedly throughout the meal. She was trying to figure out exactly why she felt the way she did about him.

Was it his looks? It couldn't just be that, though he was quite... pretty. For a man. His hair was brown and wavy and soft like rabbit fur. His eyes were dark and usually void of emotion, but she loved the way they lit up when they sparred, and the confusion in them each morning when he woke up wrapped around her. His lips... They were surprisingly soft for such a hard man. And warm. And not something she would linger on, not at all. He had nice hands. Long-fingered, strong, callused. She wanted to hold his hand for awhile. Maybe she'd try that later.

Soon, their meal was over and she was fetching a pair of scissors from her satchel. She found she was sort of excited to trim his hair for him. She wasn't always keen on acting like a woman, but some hidden maternal instinct in her wanted to care for him, to keep him safe and help him succeed. He needed a woman's touch, she believed. And trimming his hair was a wonderful place to start.

She had him sit in the wooden chair at the desk next to the wardrobe. "I won't cut much. Just enough that it won't always be in your face," she assured him. Then she began snipping, combing through his hair with gentle fingers. She was fighting the urge to hum, but she felt so light, so bubbly. She gave in and started humming a quiet Noxan lullaby that, as a storyteller, she liked to sing in taverns at the end of the night. It was a very old song, something she didn't remember learning, since it was about wandering the earth and learning about fantastic creatures. Most Noxan songs in recent memory were about war.

[WilsonTurner]

Aulfr knew there would now be a great many rumors circulating- but it could not be helped. People wouldn't dare speak out against him, anyways, except for the more powerful Jarls. Especially now, whatwith every Jarl that said something against him being dead, now. Either way, Aulfr Volsung was going to be a well-discussed person, and regardless of whether or not the rumors are good or bad, it's apparent that he's not to be messed with.

And with such a good political standing, and suddenly this... he felt as if the next year or so would be a good one. Not as he'd tell anyone that, of course. Especially not Aleksandra... because of reasons.

He watched her carry the tray to his- or their, since the room is just as much hers, now- table, and serve both of them. Taking a seat, he acted perfectly normal- he dug into his food, occasionally glancing up and meeting her stare for several seconds, before looking down to eat again. It looked that he was entirely normal, as if he wasn't having a romance.

But he was placid, and just as silent as she was. He was, despite not appearing to be so, hyperalert and listening to any possible sound she might make, watching her out of the corners of his eyes. So he took a seat where she designated, and said nothing, absently wondering why he was like so. But for now, he was content with going along with it. He could figure it out later.

He only gave a small nod in response to her; otherwise, he just sat still as she started running her fingers through his hair, snipping at it. He vaguely realized that he had closed his eyes, and grown oddly relaxed. For a moment, he wondered why, and then dismissed it- and very reluctantly admitted to himself that this was the most contented he had felt in a long time.

Even when sleeping, when he was very unconsciously using her as a pillow and as comfort, he wasn't this relaxed. It was even more pronounced when she started humming- muscle that has been long knotted slowly unwound, hearing the distantly familiar tune of the songs his mother once taught him.

He let out a small sigh as he slumped slightly, in the seat, no longer tensed at all. He could do with this more often, he thought.

[Fennec]

Aleksandra hummed quietly for awhile, content to trim his hair without conversation. She felt some sort of pride as he relaxed further and further. He melted like a candle, something she never thought could be done. She brushed some hair from his shoulders, surprised by how loose the muscles felt there. He really was content to sit here and let her do what she wanted.

It continued this way for a time, her humming and snipping and thinking deeper about Aulfr. Where was his mother? Had she ever been around to do these things for him? It seemed to her that the only times he relaxed and felt more comfortable with her were when she was caring for him. He had the same response as most men did to her appearance and any playful advances she made, but they didn't seem to attract him as much as the softer, sweeter side of her did. Maybe he craved it in the absence of affection from his mother.

She smiled and, feeling bold but hesitant, snipped the last bit of hair and stepped closer. She let his head lean back against her stomach as she shook out the remaining hairs, then just ran her fingers through it. "Aulfr, I was wondering something," she murmured, keeping her voice quiet and honey-sweet. "I've never seen your mother around, and I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries by asking. But where is she? Do you know?"

[WilsonTurner]

Her humming was the first thing that he noticed to affect him; within a minute, his shoulders were slowly uncoiling from their endless tension. Aulfr found himself feeling vulnerable, weak, and very much unlike himself- but he was comfortable, and there was something about Aleksandra's presence and sudden maternal attitude that softened him.

He held back his thoughts, comments, ideas, memories, pushing them back and savoring the sudden, profound peace that had pervaded his mind and his presence, using her humming of vague songs of Noxan adventure as his sword and shield against the tension-calling attitude of his. He would have loathed to admit it, if someone asked, about whether or not he was enjoying having his hair cut, having Aleksandra mess with it and run her fingers through his hair.

He immediately stiffened, however, when she asked about his mother. And for a moment, he stayed stiff, but that finally gave way to a sudden fall of his shoulders, a slump uncommon to the proud, self-assured Noxan prince.

"My mother is gone. I... suspect that the only person that knows where she is, or if she's even alive, is my father. And he refuses to tell me anything. She first disappeared when I was six; since then, my father, the servants, or the warriors have raised me."

He shrugged, suddenly, continuing, "My father refuses to tell me anything about the one that cared. And I will move mountains to find her."