[Of course he remembers: Yseult standing on a rock a little ways off the road, the wind pulling her hair out of her braid, she'd started talking to the ox while Darras was pushing on the cart with the man, and when Darras had kissed her on the beach she had tasted like the saltwater, and when he kissed her after the cart was free, she'd taste the same. And then the fire, in the night, painted bright against the sky. Everyone's faces pale under the soot, shining eyes, clasping his hands. The dawn then pink at the lining of the sky, Yseult wrapping his thigh in the cottage. She'd bit the other thigh, just a little, teeth grazed against skin. And Darras had laughed, they had both smelled of smoke and he was sore all over so she'd climbed on him once they were in bed, rubbed her fingers against his skin until he had to kiss her, ask her.]
We think of it different. [He winds another strand of her hair around his finger, gentle.] When I think about those times, I think about you. You're there.
Maybe I mix it up. Maybe I think of it all being about you 'cos I'm thinking of you.
Edited (srry its a new keyboard) 2020-07-14 03:21 (UTC)
I'm there, [ she agrees, the faintest prickle of her nails grazed over his skin. ] And maybe you wrestled that goat under your arm and carried it out because you thought I'd roll my eyes at you if you said you'd dropped it when it bit you. Or pushed the cart harder to impress me. But it can't all have been for me. That first instinct to help, to be kind and generous, that's just you. That was in you before you ever met me.
[He looks up at the ceiling as she talks, skin prickling under her fingers.]
I think of it differently. You think bigger than I do. I think of people. Helping people, people I care about. And it's hard, then, to make it bigger. You start adding in--things. It starts to feel less about people.
[ She follows the prickle with a soothing hand, fingers spread broad and flat, palm pressed firm. ]
As long as you think of helping people. I don't care if we disagree about how. [ A beat, and then, dry again, brisker and a little self-deprecating: ] Well. I do care, because I'll think you're wrong, but I can live with it. As long as you're not the kind of man who sees a house on fire and goes back to sleep, or only thinks of what he might pocket from the ashes.
[ Her smiles nips at his throat, and her nose drags against the underside of his jaw as she picks her head slowly up, to where he can glimpse the corner of her mouth curled up, and the warmth in her gaze before she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ]
[He laughs--not enough to disturb her, to interrupt that kiss--but he can't help it; it's entirely involuntary. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close, keeping her trapped against him.]
Hmmmmm, [ she replies, drawing it out so lips buzz against his own with the sound, ] well. You are decently handsome. Reasonably funny. Smarter than you look.
It all depends on how smart I think you look, [ Yseult points out, after accepting her punishment with good grace. ] It could just mean you look very smart, but in fact you're even smarter. [ She flashes him a teasingly serene smile,
which then twitches into a real grin, and she tips close again, an arm wrapped around his neck, a kiss pressed to his temple. ]
You're gorgeous, [ she says from there, spoken soft into his ear like a secret ] And brilliantly clever and creative, and you make me laugh more than I thought I could, and since the day we met I've never wanted any man but you. And best of all, [ she adds, tease returning to her tone ] you're an admiral.
[She'd belayed any protest with her kiss--at least temporarily--but the buzz of her voice in his ear had done the rest. Darras had started grinning again not even a quarter of the way through those compliments. She must have been able to feel it, so close to him--somewhere around her shoulder, maybe, since he's tucked against her as much as she's tucked against him.]
A man with twice the title. Admiral is better'n captain. I didn't know I was married to someone that cared about status.
That is awfully selfish of you. When here you've had a list of all my hiding places for years.
[ Not that he'd necessarily know it, tucked away as it is in an envelope between a few old sweaters in a trunk at the foot of their bed in Antiva, hidden against the likelihood of her untimely death. ]
Oh, aye? I didn't know I had a list of all of your hiding places.
[He winds a bit of her hair around his finger again, curling it up and then letting it go.]
How's this. We do a holiday. I make you a map. Clues, puzzles, all of it. And we sail around, the two of us, together, and see how well you can work it out.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
We think of it different. [He winds another strand of her hair around his finger, gentle.] When I think about those times, I think about you. You're there.
Maybe I mix it up. Maybe I think of it all being about you 'cos I'm thinking of you.
no subject
no subject
I think of it differently. You think bigger than I do. I think of people. Helping people, people I care about. And it's hard, then, to make it bigger. You start adding in--things. It starts to feel less about people.
no subject
As long as you think of helping people. I don't care if we disagree about how. [ A beat, and then, dry again, brisker and a little self-deprecating: ] Well. I do care, because I'll think you're wrong, but I can live with it. As long as you're not the kind of man who sees a house on fire and goes back to sleep, or only thinks of what he might pocket from the ashes.
no subject
Oh, well. As long as you can live with me being wrong. How're you going to stand it?
no subject
Thankfully, you have other redeeming qualities.
no subject
Do I, now. Such as?
no subject
no subject
[This he repeats with incredulity. For her crime, he kisses her again.]
That one's worse'n [--he puts on an imitation of her voice--]-- 'reasonably funny'. Humor, that's all subjective. Looking clever is less that.
no subject
which then twitches into a real grin, and she tips close again, an arm wrapped around his neck, a kiss pressed to his temple. ]
You're gorgeous, [ she says from there, spoken soft into his ear like a secret ] And brilliantly clever and creative, and you make me laugh more than I thought I could, and since the day we met I've never wanted any man but you. And best of all, [ she adds, tease returning to her tone ] you're an admiral.
no subject
A man with twice the title. Admiral is better'n captain. I didn't know I was married to someone that cared about status.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[ Not that he'd necessarily know it, tucked away as it is in an envelope between a few old sweaters in a trunk at the foot of their bed in Antiva, hidden against the likelihood of her untimely death. ]
no subject
[He winds a bit of her hair around his finger again, curling it up and then letting it go.]
How's this. We do a holiday. I make you a map. Clues, puzzles, all of it. And we sail around, the two of us, together, and see how well you can work it out.
no subject
Let's. That's a sort of pirating I would enjoy.
no subject
Ah, but we both have positions now. When will we find the time?