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Post by Dustfinger on Feb 3, 2009 16:28:41 GMT -4
Dustfinger, leaning against Roxane's house, watched Gwin and Jink scamper away into the blackness of the woods and sighed. They were probably looking for Farid. It wasn't that he minded his apprentice, but Roxane had never much liked him. Speaking of which, you should be in bed, Dustfinger, he reminded himself. His eyes scanned the dark trees again and then wandered up to the sky and the twinkling stars. He'd always liked night best, in this world and the other. The cool night breeze blew across his face, throwing his hair into his eyes. He brushed it back and turned to the small farmhouse, slipping quietly through the door.
"How can I sleep tonight?" he muttered to himself. The answer was simple: he couldn't. A bit too much energy, perhaps? He wasn't sure. But there was certainly something keeping the Fire-Dancer awake, so he sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at Roxane. Beautiful Roxane. Dust gently tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead.
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Post by ``roxane on Feb 3, 2009 16:56:50 GMT -4
Roxane lay awake in the bed, her eyes closed, breathing deeply. She could not remember when she had started pretending to sleep when she was restless, instead of getting up and doing something. Probably when the children got old enough to climb into her bed when they had bad dreams. If they saw their mother sleeping, they would sleep to. It had a calming effect. She had yet to feel the presure of Dustfinger in the bed next to her. Did he think she was asleep, and so was going about his own business? She had always felt sure that he could tell when she was faking sleep. Maybe she was wrong. She listened to the night anyways. crickets could be heard not to far off. She had missed thier music during the winter months, without even realising it. She hardly even realized that she had ever appreciated them.
Finally, Roxane heard dustfinger enter the room. She tried not to move, not to give any sign of her conciousness. They corners of her lips twitched slightly, but she doubted he could see that in the dark. She felt the presure of him sitting on the bed, but on her side. He moved her hair, he kissed her skin. He knew she was awake, didn't he? She opened one eye, slightly, and looking up into his face. So different without he scars. So young. The man she had first laid eyes on, once again.
"Where have you been?" She asked, trying to sound sleepy, and not needing much work. Her voice sounded tired, despite how awake she was, from not being used for so many hours since she had retired herself to bed.
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Post by Dustfinger on Feb 3, 2009 17:19:43 GMT -4
Dustfinger wasn't surprised to see Roxane open one of her eyes. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, his voice a whisper, kissing her forehead again. "I've just been outside." He shifted so he was lying on his side and ran his hand down her arm, then slipped it around her waist, propped up on his other elbow. He looked at Roxane's beautiful face. No wonder I hated the other world so much, he thought. Roxane wasn't there. Of course, he already knew this was part of his hatred for Silvertongue's home world, but every time he saw Roxane again, he was reminded of the pain of those ten years.
The Fire-Dancer listened to the crickets and the beating of his own heart. "Farid should be here later today. God knows he only left because I told him to send Silvertongue a message. Is Jehan sleeping?" The boy was young, and Dustfinger had never gotten to know him very well. He was Roxane's son from another man, born in Dusty's years in the other world. Dustfinger pressed his hot lips to Roxane's neck, right below her ear. He sometimes wondered if fire flowed in his veins, not blood.
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Post by ``roxane on Feb 3, 2009 19:52:33 GMT -4
Roxane turned her head to look at him as he lay down beside her, his hand running down her arm, making her skin feel cold once the heat of his skin was gone, his arm around her waist. She could only see him from her peripheral now, but seeing him at all was a blessing of sorts. She couldn't help but to think of the times she had thought that she had lost him forever. Too many time's when he had left her side. She felt sure now, that should he ever leave again, he would come back to her. They would see each other again.
"How did you know?" She asked him. She had become very good at faking sleep, at least while in the comfort of her own home. "You know I can sleep without you now." She smiled at her joke, remembering the times he had gone away before he disappeared the first time. How she would lay awake the first night after he left, and have to find something to occupy her mind. Those days were gone now, pushed out from her knowledge that he would always return. There was no room for nights sleepless with worry now. "You still love the outdoors, don't you? The free life we used to have, outside of these walls." She had been the one to always want a home. He had always seemed to prefer calling wherever their tent could be set a home. She could not blame him for that. She had loved it at first too, but a home was needed when raising a family.
She turned on her other side, and buried her face in his neck, closing her eyes again. She still didn't like that boy. She still blamed him for her husbands death. She could understand though, why Dustfinger felt differently. The boy was far away from home, where ever home had been before he had shown up here. Dustfinger had once been far from home too. It was their connection. She had tried many times to get her husband to tell her where he had been for all that time. He never would. Either way, it didn't matter. He was at her side now.
"Jehan well sleep for days if I don't wake him." She sighed, and kissed his neck. His skin was hot on her lips. "He works to hard. Tires himself out."
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Post by Dustfinger on Feb 3, 2009 20:23:43 GMT -4
"I guess I just know you too well," Dustfinger whispered, his hot breath touching her ear, her hair, her neck. His fingers stroked her soft, black hair, and he slid his other hand under Roxane's body, laying his head down. Roxane's face felt cool on his neck and he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. "Aw, I don't have that sleepless effect on you anymore?" he teased. He lifted her head and kissed her before she could answer.
"If a house makes you happy, a house makes me happy." It was true, even if Dusty did prefer the outdoors- always had, always will. Even now, he often slept outside- when he slept at all, that is- instead of inside on a bed. He remembered his time at the Castle in the Lake when he did- and Silvertongue. The night the so-called immortal Adderhead had arrived, the two men had been outside on one of the towers. It was Dustfinger who had seen the Adderhead in the forest, over the battlements. Soon after, they had found the Piper.
Dustfinger shut those thoughts out. Not a pleasant night for anyone, except the Adder and the Piper. Certainly not something Dust cared to think about nowadays. And thinking about Silvertongue brought back memories of that other world, the one he detested so. The one Capricorn had like so much, Basta as well, and the one that had kept Dustfinger from his wife and daughters for ten years too long. Returning to find that one daughter had died and the other hated him for leaving was no pleasant experience. Not to mention, of course, the fact that Roxane had married again, though it was pleasant, in it's own way, to know that the man had died- in a fire, no less, as ironic as that was.
Isn't it strange - that you can love two men and fire protects one but kills the other? They were Roxane's words, from his first night back- his first night home again. He remembered them well, like he remembered so many other things from that night. The fresh bread, smelling the scent of the bitter orange Roxane mixed in the water she washed her hair in, seeing Jehan, who burned his fingers on the fiery flowers Dustfinger grew. So many small details, but none as sweet as the big picture. None as sweet as being home again.
"Maybe you should work a bit harder yourself then, and get some sleep," Dustfinger said gently, surfacing from his thoughts. "Sleep isn't a bad thing, you know." A smile played on his lips, which he pressed to hers again. "I suppose I'm not helping, though. It's a bit distracting, having someone with fire in their veins lying in bed next to you." Not to mention pulling you on top of then, kissing you, and just in general touching you. With skin much warmer than a normal human's, that could get uncomfortable.
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Post by ``roxane on Feb 6, 2009 8:04:17 GMT -4
Roxane relaxed after being pulled on top of Dustfinger in one swift movement. She knew he could handle her full weight, and allowed herself to just lay there, with her head still buried in his neck, until her lifted it, and kissed her. She let him. She kissed him back. In more youthful years she would have wished to stay like this forever. She still would have liked to, but she was foolish enough to wish it now. "You sound disappointed," She teased back at him, staring down into his face. In truth, she could sleep without him, but it was a restless sleep. She never felt like she slept at all, the whole time he was dead. She didn't like to think of him that way, and turned to focusing on the fact that he was here now. She tried to forget it ever happened more often than not, and each time failed in doing so, because she would only think of it again the next time she saw his face without the scars. The scars that death had taken away, a reminder of that time.
Wherever they would go, as long as her was with her, she would be happy. House or no house. That did not mean that she would readily give up the life she had now to return to the one they had had before, but she would have been equally as happy if she hadn't had a house in the first place, and he hadn't left her for those ten long years. Years that seemed short now, but were long then. They seemed forever ago, although he had returned after that time not even a year ago.
She leaned her head foreword, and pressed her forehead against his, eyes closed once more, out of thought now rather than feigning sleep. She often tried to keep herself from trying to decide whether she would have been happier to have spent the last ten years with him, living in tents and caves. It was cruel to think in such a way, even if she was happier now than she had ever been in those years. She had wanted a home all along, and through losing him, she got one. Was it a necessary sacrifice? Would she have found a home if he had stayed? She had been miserable the first of those years, and had never gotten over his disappearance, merely grown past it, despite herself. Would she have ended up miserable in the end had he stayed?
When he had interrupted her train of thought, she couldn't help but smile, and couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease him back, for all the teasing he was giving her. "Perhaps you should do the work," she said to him, opening her eyes to stare into his, though they were only blurs from so close. "Then I can rest all through the day, and distract you while you should be sleeping."
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Post by Dustfinger on Feb 8, 2009 21:40:03 GMT -4
"Well, I'm glad you can sleep, but it's nice to know that someone can't sleep without you. It shows that you mean a lot to them. I lost a lot of sleep... those years." Dustfinger wondered what Roxane was thinking about. He couldn't help it, he always did. But at the same time, he tried not to read her thoughts from her face and her eyes, like he did others- with Roxane, Dusty always felt like he was intruding. Thoughts are personal, and only to be shared if you want them to be. While with people like Silvertongue, Dustfinger would read his thoughts right off his face, but he never would with Roxane.
If he was being honest, Dusty would have to admit that he read her thoughts often enough when she looked at him. He couldn't really help it, he just did it without thinking. He ran his fingers through her hair, playing with it. He couldn't read her face right now, it was to close to his- just a blur. He was happy about that.
That wasn't all he was glad about, of course. Naturally he enjoyed simply being back with Roxane, even if he was distracting her from much needed sleep. It was this that had him flip over, so Roxane was suddenly flat on her back, and he was supporting himself over her with his forearms on either side of her head. He kissed her once, then slid off the bed to kneel beside it.
"My work is with fire," Dustfinger whispered, blowing across his palm and holding the fire in front of him. "Not fields. Besides, I don't sleep- or eat- much these days. And if it makes you happier, I'll be putting on a show in Ombra soon, at the Black Prince's request. So you won't be the only one working."
Smiling, Dustfinger closed his fingers over the fire, killing it, and then kissed Roxane's forehead again. "I'll let you rest- hopefully, sleep. But all the same I assume you would rather I stay here than head back outside, to practice my fiery tricks in the moonlight?"
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Post by ``roxane on Feb 11, 2009 3:05:30 GMT -4
"I lost a lot of sleep in those years too," Roxane told him, admitting defeat in a way. He would probably have never believed her if she kept up making him think he didn't effect her sleep. "And.. last time you left too." She would not admit he was ever dead in conversation with him. She couldn't handle that yet. "But now I know you're not ever going to leave me for good, so I can sleep fine without you here." She paused, and lifted her head away from his a little, to see his face clearly. "It is always is nice to have you here though." She leaned her head back down, pressing her lips to his, before pressing her forehead against his again, as though she was trying to hear what he was thinking. She sometimes imagined that when they were close like this, he could tell what she was thinking. She felt embarrassed by herself every time she thought this, but didn't allow her embarrassment to show. She was good at hiding that.
She was surprised to suddenly find herself on her back, with him leaning over her now. He leaned foreword to kiss her, but before Roxane had the chance to kiss him back this time, he slid off the bed, onto the floor. She heard Jehan make a noise in his sleep, but thought nothing over it, hardly registering it. It was usual. Roxane rolled onto her side to face Dustfinger, a small smile playing on her lips as he talked about his work. "It still wouldn't hurt you to do some heavy lifting once in a while," she joked, keeping her eye on the flame the whole while she talked. There wasn't much of that to do, working with herbs like she did, but there was some. "Jehan can't handle all that on his own, and I'm hardly any help." She made a flimsy movement with her arm, as if to make herself appear weaker than they both knew she was.
"You don't need to go." She told him, "I actually think I'd prefer you to stay." She rolled back onto her stomach, her head turned to keep him in her sight. "But if you do want to go 'practice'," she exaggerated the word, knowing he didn't need practice, "that's up to you. Like I said, I sleep fine knowing you'll be here when I wake up."
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Post by Dustfinger on Feb 13, 2009 17:46:52 GMT -4
"It's nice to be here," Dustfinger agreed, kissing Roxane's forehead yet again. His arms were crossed in front of him, resting on the bed, and he was leaning forward slightly. A thousand thoughts were racing through his mind, half of them from long ago, in this world, and half from not so long ago, in Silvertongue's.
There was Brianna, only a child then, and his other daughter, Rosanna, dead now. There were the fairies, healing the cuts left by Basta, and Roxane, staying with him until he could be seen in public again. There was the Barn Owl, and the Black Prince, his companions of his youngest days.
Then there was Silvertongue, holding a sword and running Capricorn and Basta out of his house, not yet realizing that his wife was gone. The lights of that world, and the cars. Dustfinger had never liked the cars. He didn't like the lights, either- they spoiled his dark nights, and he had grown too accustomed to being able to turn lights on and off. The rainy night when he stood outside the old farmhouse that Meggie and Silvertongue lived in at the time marked the beginning of the end of his time in that world. He regretted, now, ever betraying them to Capricorn and Basta. He'd only done it on the promise of going home. An empty promise, as it turned out.
Dustfinger wrenched himself back to the present. "Oh, there's so much heavy lifting on this farm," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Have you ever tried to juggle torches? Not flaming torches, just torches. It's harder than you might think." He smiled at her. "Then light them on fire. It takes talent, bravery, and some idiocy, too. Think about it- that's my life, how I earn my living. You kneel in dirt and pull out weeds, plant things, and water them, letting them grow to the point where they can be used for healing. Quiet a bit different, and both hard in their own ways, but neither has much heavy lifting."
He stood up and walked to the door, leaning against the door frame and looking out over the darkened yard. Jink and Gwin darted past him into the house, but he imitated their chatter and they turned, approaching him. He stroked both their heads, then put one on each shoulder- Jink on his left, Gwin on his right. He knew Roxane didn't like them much, particularly Gwin, the elder, but he brought them both inside with him.
"I'll stay, but first I think I should do something about these two rats," Dustfinger said, reaching up to stroke each marten's horned head. Then he bent down again, putting Gwin and Jink on the bed next to Roxane. He sat against the bed, leaning his head back against it with his legs stretched in front of him and his eyes closed. "Go to sleep, Roxane," he said, half-teasing.
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Post by ``roxane on Feb 26, 2009 11:54:48 GMT -4
Roxane resisted making a face at hime when he brought the animals of his inside. She still didn't like them too much, but over the years she had adjusted. They were getting old too. The younger still had some youthfull energy left in him, but the elder mostly only moved because the other bothered him into it. Or because Farid was on the way.
"When did you say the boy was coming?" She asked him, closing her eyes, readying herself for the possibility of sleep overtaking her. She doubted it would any time soon. She was too worked up now.
[[Rediculously short. T-T]]
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Post by Dustfinger on Feb 26, 2009 12:56:28 GMT -4
Dustfinger's eyes slid closed. He was a bit tired, but not much. Even if he went to sleep, he wouldn't be for long. Death had given him quite some interesting tricks and traits, such as the sparks all around him and not needing sleep. "Farid? He'll be here later today, and Silvertongue might be with him." He'd sent the boy to tell Silvertongue about the show he was planning on performing in Ombra. He had done his shows regularly since his return from the dead, but about a year ago he had started doing less and less, until he eventually stopped altogether. The Black Prince had been on the verge of blackmailing him when he had finally agreed to perform once more, though somewhat unwillingly. {{Mine's no better But I did try... and then ran out of things to say.}}
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