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  1. #21
    Member
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    Sagequeen's Avatar

    Name
    Erissa Alanorah Tarsul-Caedron
    Age
    27
    Race
    High Elf
    Gender
    Female
    Hair Color
    Silver-tinged White
    Eye Color
    Green-blue
    Build
    5'5", 105
    Job
    Finery tailor, Ixian Knight

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    Just a kiss, just one little... she trailed in thought.

    One common belief among many of those with very long lives, specifically elves with their thousands of years, was that one should not do what he or she might live a very long time to regret. And this, this 'one little kiss,' could be the end of a friendship that had just begun, that she had worked so diligently to achieve.

    Erissa Caedron had thrown caution to the wind, goaded on by her companion's tendency to do just that. Not a drop of alcohol had passed her lips, and yet she was drunken in the moment, forgetting everything before and encapsulating that juncture where her lips met his for the very first time, and not giving a thought to the snowball of events that could possibly follow.

    It was fortunate that moment had come as he dipped her in their seemingly choreographed dance, for it was very likely her knees would not have supported her if she bore her own weight. Jensen's kiss penetrated her, parting her willing lips as the advent of dawn does the petals of a flower.

    As he slowly guided her back to standing, Jensen ran his hands along Erissa's sides to the small of her back, and she wrapped her arms around his midsection, first pulling away and staring earnestly into his eyes, then finally resting her head against his chest as they continued their dance, slow and close, to the beat of a new song the band had begun.

    “What are you thinking about?” she whispered, craning her neck upward, her breath tickling his neck. Jensen laughed as he took a step back, his eyes searching the tallest parts of the ferry.

    “Come on,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her as they snaked through the socialites on the dance floor. Erissa giggled, hiking her dress so she could jog behind him, the other hand clamped firmly on his.

    “Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly, her heart racing and stomach fluttering.

    “Remember that time at the Ixian Castle?” he asked, laughing, as he swept her into his arms and began up the outside stairs, two by two, that led up the side of the cabins to the roof of the multi-decked ferry. “It was one of those days where nothing went right. But, you grabbed me by the hand...” Erissa's eyes danced as she remembered leading him, without telling him what they were doing, to the very top of the highest tower, where she had hidden a pillow and blanket in a supply barrel.

    “How could I forget?” she said softly, her eyes sparkling as she relished in his retelling of the fond memory.

    “Erissa, I would have followed you anywhere that night. You led me there, and...” he sighed, smiling as he set her down and threw his head back, looking up at the stars.

    A steady breeze rushed as the ferry sliced through the water, and Jensen pulled her close, wrapping his jacket around the elf's bare arms. With a giggle and a flourish, he grabbed the open sides and yanked; as she crashed into him, he burrowed his face into her neck, kissing her urgently as his hands wandered downward along her back.

    “There is something I have not told you, Jensen,” she said softly, to which he gave a muffled response she could not understand as he continued kissing toward her ear. “This is... serious,” Erissa said, bringing her hand to the back of his head and hugging him tightly. The immortal backed away slightly, a curious smile on his lips.

    “Okay,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I guess, if you gotta kill the mood...”

    “Sit,” Erissa said, lowering herself to the floor and extending an arm in invitation. Jensen flopped down beside her, unabashed in the way he hoped the halter-top of her dress were just a little more loose as he teased it to the side in a caress. She giggled as she slapped his hand away, and cleared her throat. “You recall what I said about Troyas, that he will never die of old age?”

    “Yes,” Jensen said warily, giving his full attention. “Don't fucking tell me he's treating you like one of his horses, keeping you-” he growled, his temper instantly rising.

    “No!” Erissa said soothingly, her hand on his forehead, lightly moving to his jaw. “Nothing like that.” The elf took a deep breath, preparing to continue.

    “Hey!” an angry voice called from the stairwell where the two had entered. “You're not supposed to be up here!”

    “Says who?” Jensen challenged, rising to his feet.

    “Says the captain,” the man said with finality. Erissa caught the glimmer in Jensen's eye, one with which she was very familiar, and she was by his side in an instant.

    “We have a room, and more privacy there, you know,” she said softly, her lips brushing against his ear. Jensen smirked at the man who was approaching them menacingly.

    “If you'll excuse me,” the immortal said to him with great sarcasm, “I have something to... attend to.” He wrapped his arm around the beautiful elf who, in the moonlight, could have been a statue dedicated to a goddess of beauty, expertly carved of flawless marble, and upon which he had hung a too-large jacket.

    “I apologize for our intrusion,” Erissa said, smiling sweetly, “and I assure you we will not be of any further trouble to you.” The pot-bellied sailor nodded stupidly, cowed by Jensen's imposing physique and the elf's entrancing appearance, and the Knight made sure he firmly butted against the sailor's shoulder as they passed. With a laugh and wide gesture, Jensen guided Erissa to the stairs and followed her back down to their posh cabin.

    Jensen quickly unlocked the door and confirmed their travel-worn satchels were in the place he had left them. Erissa shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to him, kissing his cheek; she retreated to the restroom to change. Her courage to tell him her secret was gone with the moment. Jensen kicked off his boots and flopped down one of the two beds, his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. With a second thought, the man rose from the bed, stripped his shirt and pants off, and followed after her.

    “Oh!” Erissa said, shocked as he burst through the door. She grabbed the towel she had used earlier to cover herself and tossed the gown on the porcelain counter, blushing and giggling at him. Jensen stalked across the tile toward her, drinking in her barely obscured body with the voracity of a man dying of thirst. Her eyes greedily took in his near-nudity with an abandonment of prudence. “When was the last time you bathed?” Erissa asked pertly. “I can still smell blood on you.” Inwardly, she cringed, expecting a snark reply, though she could not quite remember why.

    “You gonna bathe me?” Jensen asked suggestively, his chuckle rumbling like the muted crash of waves against the ferry. The elf regarded him for a moment, weighing what few apprehensions she had remaining against... well, the gorgeous man standing before her.

    The elf turned away from him, carefully wrapping the fluffy towel around her and securing it so it would not fall. With a coy glance over her shoulder, Erissa padded to the bathtub and began filling it with comfortably warm water. Without hesitation, Jensen slipped out of his undergarment before her, a picture of masculinity. Erissa cleared her throat, blinking several times through the haze of desire that clouded her mind.

    Jensen sauntered to her, cocky in his self-assurance, knowing she was overcome with him. The blush in Erissa's cheeks deepened as his physical longing was on display, then pressed against her stomach as he held her close and kissed her deeply. The immortal carefully removed the clip from her hair, and the silver bundle cascaded down around her shoulders; he buried his hand in it, against the back of her head. She pressed herself, as closely as the physical body she possessed could manage, against him.

    They stayed in that embrace, oblivious to the world around them, until a warm sensation on their feet demanded their immediate attention; the bathtub's water was spilling out onto the fine, wooden flooring. Laughing, Jensen turned the faucet off and Erissa retrieved several towels to sop up the mess.

    “You missed a little, over here,” Jensen asserted, using his prowess against her as he snatched away her covering towel to soak up an imaginary puddle.

    Erissa was beside herself as she hunched over, trying to cover herself with her arms before him. Jensen frowned with confusion as he stood without inhibition before her.

    “What's wrong?” he asked.

    “I – no one – I have never...” she stammered, her eyes full of apprehension.

    “Erissa,” he said, remembering that though she was an elf, she was young, and he embraced her and kissed the top of her head. Jensen could not, for the lives of him, recall why he had ever hated her for her heritage. “Go on,” he said, swatting her backside. “I'll be out in a minute.” He returned the towel he had snatched away from her back to its place, but not without a poorly masked glace at her as she adjusted it. Erissa smiled, her eyes filled with emotion, before grabbing her nightclothes and stepping through the door. Jensen sighed and giggled as he shook his head, then plopped himself into the water, the mass of his body sending another wave to the ground as he bathed.

    Outside, Erissa snuggled into her bed, a short nightgown replacing the towel. She glanced at the closed bathroom door, hearing Jensen's sloshing and wishing she had more nerve.

    However, she thought, he is a gentleman, more than I ever thought he was...

    Erissa stuttered in her thought, wondering why she had ever thought him ungentlemanly in the first place. He had always protected her, and his actions in the Red Forest spoke loudly.

    He said that a Knight would never let go of his weapon, no matter what. For me, he dropped his in the forest... Of course, he had several others hidden, but that was beside the point.

    Moments later, Jensen emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist and a playful grin on his face. Erissa smiled warmly at him and pulled back the edge of the covers.

    “Lay with me?” she asked softly, her inviting green-blue eyes locked onto his. With a ravishing smile, he tossed the towel at her and pulled on his shorts.

    “Told you, didn't I? You can't get enough of this,” he said, laughing as he joined her, leaving the second bed empty. Erissa sighed contentedly as she snuggled into the crook of his arm, her head resting gently on Jensen's chest.

    “Eventually,” she said, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his torso, “we will have to visit my parents again.”

    “Can't wait,” he said with a yawn.

    “What was the first part of that dwarf joke anyway? I cannot remember for the life of me,” she said, giggling.

    “Fuck if I remember. How long ago was that?” he asked, and she simply shrugged and nuzzled against him, more comfortable than she had ever felt in her life.

    “I love you, Jensen Ambrose,” Erissa said in the last, fleeting moment of hazy awareness before slumber. “Just as you are...” She was asleep as the last word left her lips.
    Last edited by Sagequeen; 09-26-12 at 04:23 PM.
    Le onen guil hen, le velt farn a chuinad han - You were given this life because you are strong enough to live it.


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