Just a drink

[Blood and Roses]

Gwydion was startled but greatful that his savior did not flee, and even more suprised that she continued to care for him. He marveled silently and gave thanks to his Goddess that she should send such a brave soul.

Gwydion accepted Arianwen's help in sitting up, and though he felt he could probably rise on his own, he was glad to conserve his strength. He realized that he was secretly enjoying the closeness of this woman, and silently admonished himself. With a groan and a sigh, he heaved himself upright.

The smell of the stew brought a ferocious rumble from Gwydion's midsection. He grinned sheepishly, and with a greatful sigh accepted a bowl of the bubbling stuff from Arianwen. He paused long enough to inhale its hearty scent, then set to shoveling it down like a man who hadn't eaten in a week. The stew burned all the way down to his gut, and warmed him from the inside out.

With a contented sigh, Gwydion lay back and gazed once more upon Arianwen, the barmaid that had saved him from shedding more blood. He considered how he might repay her, knowing that simple coin would not be worthy for such a gift as she had givin him. Instead, he retrieved his belt pouch and fished around inside of it until he found a small sunburst amulet. Drawing it out, he held it up to examine it, the firelight glinting down the golden edges and flashing in the depths of its ruby heart.

Gwydion hesitated; sealed within the jeweld depths of the sunburst was a fragment of his own lifeforce, a shard of his soul. To gift it to a stranger seemed foolish and impulsive, but somehow he knew it was right. He took Arianwen's hand in his and closed her fingers around the amulet, and gazed once more into her eyes, so much like his own, glowing in the light of the flames. "I cannot repay you, but please, take this token--," his voice quivered slightly at the last word, but he swallowed and pressed on. "Please. Keep it with you always."

[Arianwen Chandell]

*Relieved that he was able to support his own weight, Arianwen quickly wrapped the makeshift bandage around him, keeping the dressing firmly in place. As her fingers grazed his skin, she knew that a soft blush had risen to her cheeks but was incapable of stopping it. Being this close to a strange man was completely foreign to her, and the feelings that were threatening to consume her seemed almost alien.

After leaving his side only long enough to retrieve a bowl of stew from the bubbling pot, she returned with two pots of stew, one for him and one for herself. Though she ate in considerably a more dainty fashion, she was pleased to see him eat with such an appetite. A lack of appetite or fever would be indication of a infection, and the lack of both of these pleased her. Sitting beside him on the bed she had fashioned from nothing more than some blankets, Arianwen ate her stew quietly as she watched him. He ate the stew so quickly that she was prompted to ask if he wanted some more, but by the way that he lay back down, she guessed that he had had enough for now.

Remembering the bottle of whiskey, she rose from the bed, gathered both the empty bowls and spoons and carried them back over to the table. Picking up the two glasses, she returned to the bed, reaching down to grab the bottle of whiskey. Pouring two shot glasses full, she handed one to him and said ~Will .. warm.. you.. up..~ before she downed her own drink in a single gulp. Grimacing against the taste that she had never become accustomed to, Arianwen watched in surprise as Gwydion retrieved a small pouch and began to rummage around inside. Working in the tavern, she knew that people kept money in such pouches and she wondered if the man was going to try to pay her something for her trouble. Of course she would refuse such payment, as she had only been doing what she felt was right. The fact that she was inexplicitly drawn to this handsome stranger was pushed down deep inside as she let out a low ~ooooooooooooh ~ when the gem came into view. It was easily the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and for some reason Gwydion held it out to her. He took her hands in his, her skin seeming to explode upon his touch as he placed the gem in her hand, closing her fingers around it. She listened to his words, shaking her head vigourously as he spoke of repaying her.

~Please… Sir.. Gwydion.. no.. need…~ she tried to hand the gem back to him. ~Arianwen.. I.. no.. need …repay..~

She was interrupted by the sudden opening of the door of the shack. Thinking that the strong wind had blown it inward, Arianwen was shocked to see her brother standing in the doorway, watching them with hard silver eyes. Sniffing the air, he finally entered the shack and padded over to the fire where the bubbling stew still remained in one half full pot. The smell of the food had clearly been too much for him to resist, and she wondered just how close of an eye he had been keeping on her all this time. Worried that Gwydion might fear the sudden arrival of a wolf, Arianwen smiled down at him while still trying to give back the gem.

~This.. brother..~ she said quietly. ~He.. hungry..~*

[Blood and Roses]

Gwydion gently but firmly pushed Arianwen's hands away, leaving the amulet in her grasp. He shook his head, his mind set. This was as great a gift as he could give, and had no intention of being denied. He would remain forever connected to the piece of him trapped within the sunburst, and could use it to gain a limited sense of the goings-on around it. Through the amulet, he could, in a small sense, watch over the woman who had so selflessly risked herself to help him.

Somehow, it didn't suprise Gwydion at all to see a wolf burst into the small shack. After having chased one into the night while fleeing from Church-hired thugs, he had decided that perhaps they were far more interesting companions than he had first imagined. Arianwen held an obvious kinship with them, or this one in particular, and so he quietly observed as the beast lifted its nose to sniff in the direction of the stew pot.

~This.. brother..~ Arianwen said quietly. ~He.. hungry..~

Gwydion nodded, not suprised that the stew would draw the attention, and appetite, of woodland predators. "I've had my fill. It's all his."

The combination of whiskey and a full belly left Gwydion relaxed and at ease. The beautiful barmaid tending him had cleaned and wrapped his wound, which was almost painless. He again thanked his Goddess for sending him respite after weeks spent fleeing the Order's mercenaries. Tomorrow, if he were well enough, he would be on his way, hopefully taking his troubles with him and away from the Inn, and the woman who had helped keep his hands clean of innocent blood.

Arianwen's closenes made him feel inexplicably warm... hot, even, despite falling rain and howling wind. The sensation baffled him, as he had never reacted to a woman in this way before. It was as though lightning passed between the two of them, fire burning through his vains each time their skin touched. Gwydion wondered if the feeling would pass once he was gone, or if the amulet would convey that same sense across the miles. Secretly, he hoped it would.

Gwydion watched Arianwen for a time, lost in thought, when finally he cleared his throat. "Miss, you should be going home. I'm sure your friends back at the Inn are worried sick about you." No sense dragging out goodbyes. Departing would be far easier without Arianwen there to capture his attention. "I believe I will be fine now, you've patched me up wonderfully. You have my sincerest gratitude for everything you've done."

[Arianwen Chandell]

*Despite her protests it soon became clear that no words or gestures made on her behalf would convince Gwydion to take back the amulet. He seemed determined for her to have this token of his appreciation and although she felt consumed by guilt to be accepting such a beautiful object, she finally accepted it with a soft smile and a murmur of ~thankyou..~

Surprised to hear that he had had his fill of the stew, Arianwen raised a slender blonde brow as if to ask if he were sure, before she rose and walked over to the fire, pocketing the beautiful amulet as she walked. Her brother watched her with solemn silver eyes, before glancing back at Gwydion. Although he kept an interested gaze on Arianwen and the promised meal, he never let Gwydion out of his sight for a second. Seemingly impatient, he padded back and forth between the fire and the bed, glaring at Gwydion as he did so before he would walk back to where Arianwen was spooning the bubbling mixture into the bowl she had just used. As she placed it on the floor behind him, the wolf finally turned its back on Gwydion and stuck his nose into the stew, despite her warning him ~hot..~.

Whimpering suddenly and softly, the wolf began to rub at his burnt snout with his right paw, causing Arianwen to laugh gently as she stroked his soft dark fur. Picking up the bowl, she blew on it for a few moments, cooling the stew with her breath before placing it back on the floor. Her brother approached more cautiously this time, but was soon lapping up the stew with his long pink tongue. Wondering how the rest of her brethren were faring in this storm, Arianwen wandered back over to Gwydion to find him staring at her.

Blushing under his scrutiny, she absently tucked a strand of long blonde hair that had finally begun to dry, behind one ear. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke, though his words brought her no joy. It appeared he had already grown tired of her presence and was asking her to leave. Confused by his sudden rejection of her, she stood awkwardly before him, unsure of how to proceed. He spoke of her going home, though in truth, she had no home. Yes, she had a bed in the Inn, but it was only part of her “pay and board” deal of her employment with the Dancing Devil Inn. The only home she had ever known was the den of her brethren, but even that had stopped being a home some moons ago. As soon as she had decided to reclaim her state of being “human”, the wolves had backed off to give her the space she needed. Though she missed their tight bond, the ever presence of her brother and other siblings in the clearing outside the Inn had comforted her during her many times of loneliness. While she had worked at the Inn for a while now, her inability to socialise amongst her own kind, compared with her limited speech, had failed to win her any friends. Of course, Gwydion could not know this and clearly thought she had friends or family waiting for her. Sadly, he was wrong.

Her sadness was clearly evident on her face as she shook her head slowly and whispered ~No home.. ~

With nothing else to do, she sat down beside him on the bed and looked into his green eyes, her own tinted with sadness. ~No.. one.. worried.. for Arianwen..~ Yawning, she covered her mouth with her hand as tiredness swept over her. If Gwydion truly wanted her to leave, she would do as he wished, though she had no desire to leave him or venture out into the storm raging outside. Thinking that she should stay, she looked around for where she should sleep for the night. ~I…~she asked softly ~stay?~ *

[Blood and Roses]

No home, she had said. No.. one.. worried.. for Arianwen. Gwydion was aghast, for surely this woman was loved, missed, by someone. It was unthinkable that such a brave, lovely, caring woman had no friends, no lovers, no family but the wolves.

Gwydion grimaced inwardly. He was all too aware of how it felt to have no home, no family, and no friends. Raiders had claimed the lives of his parents and brother when he was a child, . He had almost no recollection of the attack that had taken his family from him, but for fleeting images of flames and screaming. Gwydion had wandered through the woods for days, calling for his family, until he had stumbled onto a wide road that had led him into the city.

Gwydion had lived as an orphan, fighting, stealing, and begging for every scrap of food and clothing he could get his hands on. When he had tried to grift a Church Knight, the man caught him, cuffed him soundly across the head, and dragged Gwydion back to the abbey where his chapter was stationed.

From that day on, Gwydion had lived as page, and then squire, to Sir Tyvernus Barran, the knight who had apprehended him and taken him in. Barran had been stern but kind, and though he never admitted it, had been happy to have a protege. It was his guidance that had led Gwydion down the path of the paladin, a rising star in a an order of sun-worshipers.

And now? Now, the same holy order that had sheltered him, trained him, and initiated him into their ranks was sending mercenaries to apprehend him and bring him in for execution. They had renounced his title, excommunicated him, and now sought his life. His family, the Order of the Breaking Dawn, was now his greatest enemy. Indeed, Gwydion knew what it meant to be alone.

"I…" she asked softly, "stay?"

Bright light flashed through small chinks and knotholes in the walls of the shack, illuminating Arianwen for a heartbeat in a contrast of brilliance and shadow, making her hair flash like platinum and her eyes shine like polished jade disks. Thunder crashed, and the rain's intensity increased once more.

Gwydion felt like a heel. He had just told this woman, who despite his own problems felt his heart going out to, that she should leave the shelter of the shack and brave the driving rain and howling gale, so that his leave would be easier done. A pang of guilt made him cringe inwardly.

"Oh, my lady, of course you can stay! I, you, well... I only thought... well, that is, I assumed that you would WANT to leave. Not that you should go out into this downpour, the storm is far too intense..." Gwydion shut his mouth, to keep his tongue from tripping on his words any further. Instead, he shifted himself around to make room for Arianwen upon the makeshift bed, nearest to the firepit, coming to rest at the far edge, and patted the vacant space. "Please, my lady. Stay and wait out the storm with me."

[Arianwen Chandell]

*Arianwen jumped slightly as a sudden loud clap of thunder seemed to shake the walls of the shack in answer to the lightning that had just illuminated everything in such a way she felt that her eyeballs would be permanently singed. She heard her brother offer a soft snort as he finished his meal, and she glanced back at him to see him licking the bowl completely clean. Turning her attention back to Gwydion she smiled shyly at him as he explained his thoughts and offered her half of his bed. Noticing that she was offered the side closest to the fire, she thought to herself that this must be one of the “gentlemen” that Roxy had always told her about. The female owner of the Dancing Devil Inn had taken Arianwen under her wing and had enjoyed teaching her the ways of the human heart. She had told her that one day a man would come to sweep her off her feet, but that she must not settle for any old swine. Only a true gentleman would do. Of course, Arianwen had had no idea what a gentleman was so Roxy had explained that he would open doors for her, pull her seat out for her to sit, always rise from his own when she entered the room, and give up his own comfort to make her more comfortable. Realising that this was one of those men, Arianwen wondered if he was the man that Roxy had warned her would “sweep her off her feet”. Looking around though, she saw no broom by which he could sweep her off her feet, so with a disappointed sigh she nodded softly at his words, echoing them in a way she hoped sounded like she agreed with him and was not just repeating him.

~Storm.. intense..~ she was not sure what “intense” meant, but guessed that it was some reference to the thunder and lightning. She was interrupted by her thoughts by the soft warm snout of her brother as he approached and pushed her hand with his nose. Smiling down at him, she laughed as she saw he was wearing some of the stew on his thick dark fur. Obviously aware of this plight, his long pink tongue sought to remedy the situation as he stood gazing up at her adoringly. Finally his gaze turned to Gwydion, whom he studied solemnly for several moments. Suddenly, raising up to his full height, the wolf stood on his hind legs placing his two front paws on the bed beside Gwydion. Barking once, softly yet firmly, he seemed to be saying ~Look after her.~ before he turned his head and licked Arianwens cheek. Giggling, she wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling his fur while the wolf still stared at Gwydion. Then, in what was a complete surprise to Arianwen and surely to Gwydion, he leant down and licked Gwydions arm with his warm tongue. Seemingly taking a few minutes to savour the taste of this stranger, the wolf then sneezed and jumped down from the bed. With one last look at Arianwen, he turned and padded silently towards the door where he stood, waiting for her to open it. She rose and followed him quickly, whispered something in his ear and hugged him once more before she opened the door and watched him disappear into the dark, stormy night. Shivering against the rain soaked gale that chilled her to the bone, Arianwen struggled to close the door again against the rain and wind. Finally winning the battle, she closed the door and rubbed her lithe arms with her hands in an attempt to get warm.

Walking past Gwydion, she murmered ~Arianwen cold~ as she approached the fire and put several more logs on it. Once it was burning more brightly, she stood in front of it for a few moments warming herself, before she walked back over the bed. Suddenly overcome with shyness, she blushed as she sat down on the side of the bed that Gwydion had cleared for her. Picking up her long pale blonde hair, she brushed it over her right shoulder as she lay down gently beside this handsome stranger. Although she was tired, the electricity that crackled all over her body threatened to keep sleep at bay, as she watched Gwydion out of the corner of her eye. Desperate for something to say, she referred back to her brothers’ impromptu kiss.

~Brother.. likes.. Gwydion. He.. good .. choice.. of people..~ *

[Blood and Roses]

The steady pounding of the rain outside served to create a white noise that made it impossible to hear if anyone or anything were to approach the shack. Despite the unease he felt at this lack of awareness, Gwydion found that the food, the heat of the fire, and the almost giddy feeling linked with blood-loss were dragging his eyelids toward his chin. Thoughts of enemy ambush and treacherous mercenaries floated near the waking facet of his mind, but could not gain purchase long enough for him to focus on it. The maiden that had helped him so much this night spoke, but the words were lost to him, grasp for them though he may. Gwydion felt himself losing the battle for conciousness...

Gwydion's eyes snapped open with a start, and found himself staring into the predatory gaze of a woodland hunter, a lupine king of the forest. Gwydion had never learned the animal empathy that some members of his former order prized so highly, but he had seen enough in his time to understand the beast's intent was not hostile. There seemed to be a warning in its eyes, telling Gwydion that he should mind his manners around the woman this creature adored so obviously. And then, after a few moments, the wolf leaned down to taste the flesh of his arm.

Gwydion quashed his first alarmed reaction, for the beast did not bare its teeth or growl. It simply licked him, and Gwydion wondered if he had not spilled some of the stew upon himself; the wolf had obviously enjoyed it, and still had scent of the repast on its breath. He hesitated, then slowly reached out to scratch the wolf between the ears. A tense smile briefly crossed Gwydion's face. Wolves are creatures of the Moon, and he a follower of Sun, but the beasts were regarded highly in his order as creatures of nobility and loyalty. Such behavior seemed to him a positive omen.

As Arianwen moved to release her predatory brother into the night, Gwydion could not help but watch her through half-lidded eyes. The dying firelight made her for a silhouette against the deeper darkness in the shadowy corners of the small room; on her pale hair made it seem fiery in the dim haze of fatigue and woodsmoke; her feminine qualities were cast in shadow, a dark outline hinting at the womanly curves beneath; her jade eyes standing out brilliantly, perhaps only in Gwydion's own perception, from a form bathed in darkness. Finally he tore his gaze away, feeling awkward and off-balance, as Arianwen moved to raise the fire back to life.

Satisfied that the flame should last the night, the maiden sat herself upon the rough bed she had made for Gwydion, seeming to be uncomfortable and tense. After a moment, though, she lay down beside him, and the fugitive thought that perhaps she had deemed him safe. Gwydion hoped so. He would die before harming this innocent girl who had helped him so much already.

"Brother.. likes.. Gwydion. He.. good .. choice.. of people." Arianwen's labored words brought a smile to Gwydion's lips. "Aye, at least he liked the taste of me, though I'm not sure how glad I am about that." Gwydion rolled a bit to see her better, his face thoughtful. "I was told once that wolves can sense what lies in the hearts of men, almost as if they smell the good and evil within a person. If that is true, than surely your soul is as pure as the driven snow." Gwydion smiled again. "Or perhaps he likes your stew."

Gwydion wondered how much of his words Arianwen truly grasped, for though he did not think her simple, he understood that her grasp of Common tongue was partially limited. In consideration of this, he ceased his idle banter, and fell silent for a time.

He found himself staring once more, but rather than avert his gaze, Gwydion spoke, "I'm sorry, miss, if I seem rude. It's a rare occasion for me to be in the company of a woman of such beauty as yours." His eyes met Arianwen's, her emerald eyes mirroring his own, flickering in the dancing light of the fire. He reached up to gently touch her face, and felt the hairs on his arms and neck rise as the strange sensation of electricity passed between he and her. Unthinking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Fire raced through his body, his heart quickening...

With a shock, Gwydion pulled away. He was aghast that he should be so bold, his mind reeling with his own foolishness. A look of contrition upon his face, his words tumbled out in a rush. "Oh! F-forgive me, m-miss, please! I-I know n-not what came over m-me. I am a scoundrel and a fool!" As a man who spent most of his life in cathedrals or on battlefields, Gwydion had little experience with women. His own actions astounded him.

Gwydion sat up and turned to rise, the quick move bringing a grimace of pain and a quiet oath as his shoulder firmly reminded him that he was in no shape to move quickly. Ashamed, abashed, he said over his shoulder, "I think I should let you have the bed to yourself. I am accustomed to the floor."
[/size]

[[Things were getting slow. I figured, whether Arianwen storms out in a huff or beats Gwydion with a stick, this should get things moving along ;-) ]]

[Arianwen Chandell]

*Arianwen laughed softly as Gwydion spoke of her brother liking the taste of his flesh. Though she normally struggled to understand what people said to her in everyday conversations, she was finding it surprisingly easy to understand what this handsome man in the bed beside her was saying. She grew serious however as he spoke about wolves having the ability to sense what lies in the heart of men. She blushed as he spoke of her own soul being as pure as the driven snow. Laughing again as he spoke of the chance her brother had merely liked the taste of her stew, Arianwen shifted slightly to make herself more comfortable and so that she could turn her head to have a better view of Gwydion.

~Brother.. no see.. Arianwen.. pure.. Arianwen.. tease.. brother..~

As he fell silent, Arianwens jade green eyes could not help but roam over his handsome features, highlighted so beautifully in the glowing light of the fire. Her heart beat more quickly in her chest as he shifted his own weight so that he could look upon her. She felt his gaze upon her, and this time when she met his eyes, he did not look away but continued to stare at her. Blushing more furiously, Arianwen was tempted to bury her face into her soft long pale blonde hair but was halted by his words.

"I'm sorry, miss, if I seem rude. It's a rare occasion for me to be in the company of a woman of such beauty as yours." Their eyes met once more, and this time she was the one incapable of looking away as his hand found her cheek. She almost jumped back as a bolt of electricity passed between them, and her heart threatened to leap out of her chest as he leant towards her, his lips finding hers in a quick but at the same time, lingering kiss.

Instantly he pulled away from her, stammering in embarrassment. Her pale brows furrowed in confusion, Arianwen echoed his movements as she sat upright, though her actions failed to cause her half as much pain as he still clearly felt. He turned away from her, his bare back to her as he said over his shoulder that she should have the bed to herself. Confused and bewildered, both by his sudden kiss and then dramatic turnaround of actions, Arianwen reached out with a slightly trembling hand to touch his shoulder. Her fingers tingled where they met his skin, before they tightened around his shoulder as she gently tried to turn him back around to face her. Struggling to find the words to say how she felt, Arianwen opened and closed her mouth several times before she shifted her weight and crawled forward enough so that she was kneeling beside him, looking at him side on.

~Please.. sir.. Gwydion..~ still, his name felt like that of an expensive jewel upon her tongue. ~Gwydion no.. fool..~ she did not know what a scoundrel was, but she was guessing that he was not one of those either. ~Gwydion.. hurt.. Please.. must.. rest..~ Gently, she tried to pull him back down onto the bed with her, her fingers soft but firm upon his flesh. Leaning close to him, her hair fell down his back in soft golden waves as her breath caressed his ear. She had never been this close to a man before, had never been kissed, and had certainly never shared her bed with another living soul. All of these emotions and experiences were new to her, but still, as she continued to lean closer to him, Arianwen never took her gaze from his lips. As soon as he turned to look at her, she planned to return the kiss he had been so ashamed of giving her only moments before.

~Why.. Gwydion .. kiss.. Arianwen... ~ her voice dropped to a whisper, begging him to look at her. ~And.. why Gwydion.. stop?~ *

((Doesnt look like shes hitting him with a stick anytime soon eh? *grins*))

[Blood and Roses]

Gwydion's heart was pounding like a frenzied smith's hammer upon the anvil of his sternum. His mouth felt afire from kissing the maiden Arianwen. As her hand closed upon his shoulder, Gwydion braced himself for the coming rebuke, but it never came. Instead, her words were still full of concern for his well-being. Arianwen pulled gently upon his shoulder, trying to push him back into bed. The girl is good to the core, Gwydion thought to himself, once again mentally railing at himself.

Then she was beside him, her words soft and soothing, heedless of his thoughtless and unbidden advance. Arianwen leaned in close to him, her arm around his shoulders, and he felt himself begin to tremble as her platinum tresses slid down the taut flesh of his back. Her breath was hot upon Gwydion's ear, and he closed his eyes, fighting a passion that rose within him. He was unused to the company of women, let alone their attention. To have Arianwen so close, close enough to inhale her scent, to feel the heat of her body radiating against his own, brought foreign desires and emotions. He nearly begged her to leave him be, to let him nurse his own wounds, lest he be overwhelmed by the sensations she brought out, when the words she whispered next shook him senseless.

"Why.. Gwydion .. kiss.. Arianwen?" Gwydion's heart dropped into his stomach as his mind raced to find an answer--

"And.. why Gwydion.. stop?" --then leaped into his throat as his mind went empty.

He bit his lip, unsure of how to answer either question, and slowly turned his head toward Arianwen. His cheek touched hers, her breath whispering along his neck, and the tingling, static feeling raced down his spine. Once again their lips met, only this time he did not pull away. He let go of his misgivings, his shame, and released himself into it, this meeting of flesh and soul. He turned toward Arianwen, and his arms moved, unbidden, around her waist and shoulders, encircling her in his strong embrace.

Outside, the rain continued its steady beating upon the land. Thunder crashed in the distance as blades of electric light danced among the clouds...


Gwydion's eyes opened in the hour before dawn, as they had every day since devoting his life to Solanasia, Goddess of the Sun. He turned to look upon the beautiful woman sleeping beside him, and a gentle smile touched his lips. He lay still, watching her breathe by the dying light of the embers in the fireplace. This woman is a blessing sent to me in my darkest hour, the rogue paladin thought to himself. She is a symbol of hope when there is none to be found.

Slowly, quietly, Gwydion rose from the bed, careful not to wake Arianwen, and crept into the grey light of the breaking dawn to make his daily devotions.

[Arianwen Chandell]

*Finally Gwydion turned to look at her, and she felt a bolt of lightning race down her spine as her own jade green eyes locked with his. She felt his breath on her cheek, heard the rain and wind outside, but still, it felt as though time stood still when his lips found hers once more. This time, he did not pull away and either did she. Though she had never pressed her lips to anything other than the soft fur of her brethren before, Arianwen had seen many people kissing in the tavern and had secretly practiced kissing her hand in front of the small mirror in her room on the third floor.

Gwydions lips felt a lot different than her hand however, and her own lips felt hot and moist as they kissed him with a soft tentative pressure. Her lips parted slightly, and she used the tip of her tongue to taste the salty goodness of his lips, shivering in delight while blushing furiously at the shock of being so bold. Soon, she felt his hands upon her as his arms encircled her, pulling her into his strong warm embrace. Melting into the kiss, Arianwen found her own hands reaching up to explore the silky tangles of his hair and the strong line of his jaw….

She woke a few hours later to find herself laying with her head resting on the crook of his arm. His body felt warm beside her and she smiled secretly to herself in the darkness, her delight at being so close to such a handsome man making her tingle all over. It was still dark outside, and inside the fire provided the only light by which to see by. She turned her head slightly and studied his features for a few moments, memorising each and every detail. For a few precious moments, her gaze lingered on his lips and she shivered as she remembered how his lips had felt upon hers.

Moving away from him slightly so that she would not disturb him, she shifted her body to the edge of the bed and sat up. Allowing her eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness inside the shack, Arianwen yawned and rubbed her eyes before she rose. Padding silently to the door, she pulled it open and walked outside into the night. The rain still fell, though softer now, and with less wind. Walking quickly to the nearest tree, Arianwen spent a few moments relieving herself before she began to look around for some berries for Gwydions breakfast. She found her brother fast asleep not far from the shack, curled up in such a tight little ball of fur that his nose appeared permanently glued to his rear end. Smiling, Arianwen nudged him with her toe, startling him to wake up with a growl. When he saw it was her, he merely stared at her as he yawned and then went back to sleep. Laughing softly, Arianwen picked a few berries from a bush that she knew was safe, before she ran quickly back into the shack.

Shaking her long pale tresses to dispel any raindrops, Arianwen placed the handful of berries on the makeshift table before she brushed off any rain from her arms and back. Crawling back into bed, she made sure that she didn’t disturb Gwydion while she checked his bandages and dressing. Seeing the wound had stopped weeping, and pleased with his recovery, Arianwen soon fell fast asleep with a contented smile upon her pale pink lips. ..


She woke a couple of hours later, smiling happily as she reached over in the bed beside her for the comforting warmth of Gwydion. Finding him gone, she sat up in alarm, her eyes wildly searching the shack. Seeing that she was alone, Arianwen hugged her lithe frame and began to weep silently. She should have known that he would not stay with her. Arianwen felt doomed for a life of loneliness, and even though their tryst had been bittersweet, she should have known it could never last. *

[Blood and Roses]

The air was damp and chill, and mist hung low to the ground. The bracing air brought fresh vigor to Gwydion's limbs. He'd left his clothing in a heap beside the bed he'd shared with Arianwen, and his armor was left where it'd been placed to dry beside the fireplace. And so Gwydion hiked through the wood, naked but for the bandages that Arianwen had so lovingly applied to his injured shoulder, and his sword, whose sheath and belt were slung across his muscled and scarred torso. He searched for a high place, a hillock, a large crop of rocks, or even a large clearing, some place where he could see the horizon. It had been been too long since he could commune with Solanasia, as he'd been pursued by mercenary manhunters all the way from the cathedral at Chaynos, fighting running battles and hiding when he could. Now, after weeks of being chased, he had finally caught a break, a brief reprieve from the Hunters. Now, he would perform his devotions to the Sun, and attempt to commune with Her. If his prayers reached her, he would know she had not forsaken him, as he had feared. If Solanasia still favored him, then that would mean that the Elders of the Order... No, he could not think about that now. Gwydion's first concern was to seek his Goddess, and then to return to the woman he had left sleeping in the huntsman's shack.

The ground began to rise ahead of Gwydion, and he turned to follow the slope to higher ground. He made a fist with his left hand and curled his arm. The muscles of his chest pulled painfully, and Gwydion felt the wound begin to bleed again. He grimaced, but pressed on, too concerned with reaching a place to watch the sun rise to stop and examine the wound. He knew it was serious, and that it might grow septic if he were not careful. His fervor, his devotion, drove him on.

He climbed higher, bare feet churning the moist earth, hands grasping at brush and saplings that scraped against his bare arms and flanks. At last Gwydion reached a break in the trees, high on the side of a steep hill, with a stone outcropping that jutted out over the slope he had just ascended. Gwydion climbed up onto the stone table, and from here he could see out over the top of the forest. The mist hung thickly among the pine and elder, and looked like a roiling white sea with deep green wave caps. On the horizon, far to the east, the first rays of dawn's light were beginning to pierce the morning gloom. Gwydion faced east, to the place where his Goddess would breach the far plane and bring Her glory to the land.

Gwydion began the ritual, Greeting the Mother, by clearing his mind of all earthly distractions and allowing his limbs to hang relaxed at his sides. Head bowed, feet at shoulder width, he opened himself to the slumbering world around him. He then brought his hands to the hight of his shoulders, left palm facing the earth, right palm to the sky. He stepped back with his right foot, and as he did, pushed his palms slowly in the direction they faced. When his arms reached extension, he threw back head and held the pose, The Celestial Cycle, until the first rays of the sun's light fell upon him.

Gwydion raised his left arm to reach his right, above his head, and placed the thumb and forefinger of each hand together, hands spread flat, fingers spread wide. Then, he brought his hands down in front of him, and the opening between his hands centered where the sun would crest the horizon. He brought his feet together, then back to shoulder width, and once more bowed his head, eyes closed. As the sun rose above the far plane, is hands moved of their own accord to follow Her progress, a part of the Greeting his body knew from many years of daily devotions.

The sun made its steady climb, and as it did, Gwydion's hair began to blow in a wind that did not stir the treetops below him. The bandage covering the spear wound in his breast began to glow as though light shone from beneath. So, too, did his eyes begin to shed golden light from the slits at the bottom of his eyelids. As the sun climbed higher, the light from within Gwydion shined brighter, as though matching the light of the Goddess he prayed to.

As the lowest edge of the sun came above the horizon, having completed its ascension from the darkness, Gwydion threw back his head released a cry as the light within him burst forth. The bandage on his chest ignited and blew away on the invisible wind as a gout of yellow flame erupted from the wound, his blood burning gold as it fell to the earth, and his eyes opened wide, twin shafts of brilliant sunlight lancing toward the heavens. Behind him, golden brilliance exploded outward from his shoulders, expanding and unfurling into great wings of pure solar energy, each twice as long as Gwydion was tall, flowing and flapping in the same wind that whipped his hair. Gwydion's back arched, and the wings filled and curved, and his body lifted a foot from the stone table on which he perched. The great golden wings gave one mighty beat, and the light from the paladin's body was released into the sky with the brilliance of a star gone nova, a second, smaller sun rising to match the first.

As the light faded, Gwydion became visible once more, crumpled upon the stone table from which he had performed his devotion to Solanasia. He stirred, then pushed himself up onto all fours. The wound left by the Hunter's spear had completely sealed, leaving and angry-looking red scar on his breast, one of many such scars upon his battle-torn body. As he watched, it faded from red to pink, appearing as a scar he had carried for years, rather than one freshly received. Gwydion attempted to rise, but did not have the strength. He collapsed onto his face, spread eagle, upon the stone. As consciousness fled, a small smile came to his lips.

[Arianwen Chandell]

*Arianwen sat there for a few moments, hugging her knees to her chest as she cried, her face buried in her knees, her legs moist with her tears. This was why she had closed herself off from her own kind for as long as she had, she had known she would get hurt. Roxy had told her that in order to feel the joy of love, she must first open herself up to the possibility. Arianwen had done that with Gwydion, despite only knowing him for a short time. The connection she had felt with this stranger had terrified and electrified her and had caused her to lower the walls she had spent so long building up.

Now, she was alone, as she always seemed to be apart from the loving and watchful gaze of her brethren. She longed to be with them now, running barefooted and free through the forest, and as she took a deep breath to steady herself she decided to do exactly that. Using the thin blanket to wipe her eyes, Arianwen moved over to the side of the bed, her bare feet soon touching down upon the cold floor. Shivering, she looked around for her clothes that had been rather hastily discarded the night before. Finding her pants and tunic at the foot of the bed, Arianwen quickly dressed, pulling her long blonde hair out from her tunic so that it fell in shimmering silver waves down her back.

Still sniffling back the tears that threatened to consume her, Arianwen sat on the edge of the bed as she strapped her left sandal on. Once finished, she looked for her right one, but failed to find it. Rising, she walked around the bed over to the side where Gwydion had laid. Here, while searching for her sandal, she found his pile of clothes and armour. The discovery shocked her, and she sat on the bed staring down at it in wonder for several moments.

What did this mean? She wondered where he could be, naked and without his armour. She noticed his sword was gone though, and this only deepened the mystery. Why would anyone, and a solider no less, go out into the world minus his clothes and armour? Perhaps he had heard a noise during the night, and had gone outside to investigate it, taking his sword with him? Something must of happened to him though, for him not to return to her. Her heart filling with dread, Arianwen flew off the bed and ran outside, but soon skidded to a halt. She had no idea what direction he had gone in. After circling the shack, she soon found herself back inside. Sitting on the bed, facing the door, she chewed her bottom lip anxiously as she waited for him to return. If he wasn’t back by night fall, she would find her brother and seek his help in tracking Gwydion. *[/color][/i][/b]

[Plot Puppets]

Wendil, first class soldier and second in command of the small band called The Hunters, raised his fist to signal a halt to the score of mercenaries creeping along stealthily behind him. Up ahead, Larn, knelt at the edge of the rain-soaked forest path and was closely examining something in the gray light of pre-dawn. "Anything?" the gruff veteran asked quietly.

Larn glanced up. "Spoor," he said. "Large. Probably a wolf." Wendil's mouth tightened into a severe line beneath his bristling gray beard. The four Hunter officers, including Captain Rugan, Wendil, Larn, and young Gerd, had witnessed the vimpiress' lupine servant rush into the Dancing Devil hours before, seizing some bit of metal from the fire and fleeing into the night. The cur was likely collecting something for its vile mistress to ensorcel some hapless and innocent soul. Wendil nodded gravely. Larn returned his attention to the trail, and continued following, with Wendil and the mercenaries hired by the Hunters close behind.

Two of their fellows were not present: Captain Rugan had vanished when he and Larn had returned to the Inn to seek the vampiress that had attempted its witchery on the Hunter captain earlier the night before. Larn could not account for his disappearance. He and Rugan had returned to the Dancing Devil Inn in hopes of finding the vampire they had met before, only she was not there. The two had waited to see if she would return. One moment, they'd been sipping tankards before the fire and listening to the tales of some ancient sailor that hadn't seen the ocean in a generation or more; the next, he was alone at the table, his ale turned warm and Captain Rugan gone. When he turned to inquire of the sailor, the fellow looked at him as though he were mad. He cautiously explained that a beautiful woman had sat beside them, made polite conversation for a few minutes, and then left again. Rugan followed, dumbstruck, and Larn had sat nodding and agreeing to a speaker that was no longer there, laughing at jokes no one told. When he heard this, Larn ran as fast as he could back to the Hunters camp, making his breathless report to Wendil while still blowing hard from the run.

Gerd, the youngest Hunter officer, had remained at the Inn in case the vampiress, or Captain Rugan, should return. He was angry and being left behind, but understood the importance of his duty. Wendil grinned. The foolishness of youth. What soldier doesn't WANT to be ordered to sit at an inn, drinking and carousing by a warm fire? To Wendil, it seemed a dream assignment, instead of tracking blood-thirsty monsters in the rain through dark woods.

The rain let off, and Wendil called the company to a halt as the first rays of dawn began to burn away the fog that filled the wood. Lookouts were assigned, and the mercenary company sank gratefully onto the sodden earth, glad to have a moment to relax after a cold, wet night spent creeping through unfamiliar terrain. The men talked quietly among themselves, each of them eager to be home in bed, but the Hunter Wendil had hired them and paid good money for their services, and they would stay until he found his Captain.

Shortly after the sun had crested the horizon, a cry went up from one of the lookouts. A small siren went off in the back of Wendil's head, the one that sounded any time mystical activity occurred nearby. He looked about to see what the alarm had been sounded for, and quickly it became obvious. The Hunters and mercenaries both could see that while the sun brightened the mist to their east, something to the west of them lit the woods in a similar fashion. The veteran Wendil glanced at Larn the tracker, who nodded his head quickly. He, too, had felt it.

Ordering the mercenary company to stay put, Wendil and Larn crept along a steep incline. Whatever strange magic was lighting the forest, it was coming from above them, and it was growing brighter by the minute. The two hurried on, their pace frantic, until all at once they found themselves blinded, surrounded on all sides by an overwhelming, all-encompassing brilliance. The two Hunters fell to the ground, arms thrown across their faces.

Finally the light subsided, as did their panic. The two looked around, unsure as to what had just occurred. The light had gone, leaving them blinking and shaking their heads. They looked to one another, then looked themselves over to be sure they were still in one piece. Up ahead and above them, a large stone slab projected from the face of the hill. They continued their climb, attempting to find the source of the mystical energy that had been released in such spectacular fashion.

As they came over the rim of the stone slab, the two could only stand in disbelief at what they had found laying upon the table: Gwydion Shadowbane, the man they had pursued into this country, naked and unconscious, as though the gods had dropped him there for the Hunters to find. They stood, dumbfounded, for a full minute before Wendil regained wits enough to utter, "Larn, fetch the lads. Bring rope." The Hunter's eyes narrowed. "Tell them to build a fire, and start heating some blades in it. Bounty be damned," Wendil said, a cold fury building in his voice, "this demon-loving bastard is gonna tell us what his blood-sucking harlot bitch did with our Captain."

[Arianwen Chandell]

*The popping of a log in the fire woke Arianwen from a fitful slumber. Bolting upright, she gazed around at the empty hunters shack, once again consumed by shadows as the sun had finally found her resting place once more. The formerly raging fire was now nothing but dying embers and popping logs as Arianwen ran a hand shakily through her long blonde mane.

She had not meant to fall asleep, in fact, she could not even remember laying down. Although it was clearly evident that she had done so, she was so consumed with worry for Gwydion, that she was surprised she had managed to find a moments rest, albeit a tortured one. Moving quickly, she rose from the bed, checking to make sure that Gwydions belongings were still where she had left them. Finding them in the same place, she picked up one of his gauntlets, and took a deep breath as she realised that something terrible must have happened to him. Checking the straps of her sandals, Arianwen then pulled on her tunic, tucking the gauntlet into her sleeve as she moved towards the door of the shack before she stopped and made her way over to the table where she had placed the red berries earlier. She had intended them for Gwydions’ breakfast, and although they would do little to quell the roaring beast within her hungry belly, Arianwen popped all the berries into her mouth before she left the shack.

Pulling the door behind her, Arianwen looked up at the night sky above. The sun had only just set, judging by the purple and dark pink streaks in the sky that was only just beginning to show a smattering of silver stars. Glancing about her helplessly, Arianwen looked to the right, then the left, before her eyes came to rest on the dense forest directly before her. She had no idea which way to go and wished that her brother was here to help her detect Gwydion’s scent. Almost as if he appeared by her wish alone, Arianwen was soon aware of her brothers’ presence by his warm tongue licking her hand. Smiling gratefully down at him, Arianwen held out the gauntlet for her brother to sniff so that he could get Gwydion’s scent. The wolf sniffed the gauntlet and then raised his head, nose in the air. Sniffing the air around him, the wolf soon took off to the left, with Arianwen running close behind him. It took her several moments to realise, but her brother was heading in the direction that would lead them back to the township. Arianwen was confused as to why Gwydion would head towards people wearing no clothes, but she trusted her brother was leading her there for a reason. All too soon though, the reason became evident. Thick, dark grey acrid smoke soon threatened to choke her as they neared the township of Bendelsain. Reaching the edge of the forest, Arianwen gasped in dismay to see flames licking what remained of the Dancing Devil Inn and Tavern, the only home she had ever known apart from her brethrens den. Gwydion temporarily forgotten, Arianwen followed her brother into the throes of confusion as she ran to see if she could help. *

((Arianwens adventures can now be played out in the following thread:

morthika.proboards34.com/index.cgi?board=seedy&action=display&thread=707&page=3

Hopefully Gwydion will join her soon.))

[Gwydion Shadowbane]

Gwydion's eyes snapped open, and he realized immediately that the Sun's bottom edge had touched the horizon; one of Solanasia's many blessings was a constant awareness of her celestial avatar's position within the heavens. He glanced around, unsure of his surroundings or how he had come to be there. The last thing Gwydion remembered was performing his devotion at dawn, and receiving the words of his Goddess.

The fallen paladin had sought communion with his patron, Solanasia, Origin of All Things Good and Mother to Us All. Gwydion had been excommunicated for sure, his most-powerful enemies would see to that. However, if his Goddess continued to favor him, his soul did not need the approval of Her church. And so he had begged Her for guidance, for strength, for acceptance. Solanasia had answered his prayers, in spectacular fashion.

As Gwydion stood upon the rock table, he could feel the might of the Goddess flowing into his flesh as Her divine light touched him. She had spoken to him, Her voice not audible, but felt between each beat of his heart as She made Her will known to him.

"It is not your fate to serve the will of wicked men. The ones who claim to act on My will are false, while you are true. I cast aside your titles: Gwydion Shadowbane, Knight of the Breaking Dawn, Defender of the Church, Servant of the Endless Light."

"From this day forth, you will carry no titles but this: Gwydion Shadowbane, Champion of Solanasia."

With that, his Goddess had flooded his being with her power, bestowing a measure of Her divinity upon his mortal coil, and Gwydion was transformed. He did not know the specifics, but could feel the difference just the same. It felt as if his skin had shrunken, or perhaps his insides had expanded, as though at any moment the might of his Goddess might burst forth, erupting from his flesh and spirit in a glorious golden explosion.

Gwydion shook himself to clear his mind, and cracked open his eyes. His idle vision was half-focused upon the face of a young man, eyes wide and staring, heedless of the blood spattering his face. Gwydion’s vision sharpened, and the face snapped into clarity, along with the rest of the body attached to it. The man before him was a soldier, before the long arrow had pierced his throat, nearly cleaving it in twain. A quick glance around showed a dozen men in similar situations around a shabby campsite. A circle of stones bore the remains of what once had been a large fire, and several swords and daggers lay among the coals and embers. Arrows stood protruding from the soil about the campsite, each as long as a sword blade.

He himself sat leaning against the bole of a massive oak, still naked. A hemp rope wound around him and the tree a dozen times, as though someone had bound them together. The rope lay slack, as though the rope that held him to the tree had been cut by some rescuers hand. Gwydion pulled himself free of the rope and pushed himself to his feet. He cast about for his sword., and gritted his teeth when he spotted the hilt clutched in the lifeless hand of a soldier. The blade had been broken, and fully two feet of sharpened steel was absent from the end of it. A quick scan of the campsite revealed the other half of the sword had been cast into the fire pit.

Gwydion realized that whoever had slain these men may be nearby, but a quick search of the area revealed nothing -- his rescuer was long gone. He pulled one of the long arrows from the dirt where it stuck, and immediately decided that the bow that fired it had been massive; each arrow was as long as his leg. His mind drifted back to the giant man at the Inn, but discarded the idea out of hand. That man had owed him nothing, and was not likely to have done this from the depths of his heart.

With no reason to remain, Gwydion raced back to the shack where he had left Arianwen

*****************************************************************************

The shack was empty, the fire in the fireplace long gone cold. There was no sign of Arianwen, neither in or around the shack. Gwydion found his clothes where he’d left them, and quickly began to dress, sliding into his trousers and boots. As he strapped on his greaves, he examined his breastplate with a sigh. It was useless, as he’d sawed through the bindings the night before. It would have to be remade, and Gwydion was no armorer. He moved next to his pauldrons and gauntlets, only to discover the left gauntlet was missing. He searched the shack for it, but to no avail.

Gwydion hefted the ruined breastplate, and moved out to retrieve his cloak where he’d hidden it before. As he knelt to move the large stone from atop the bundle, a sensation gripped his heart like an icy fist. Panic flooded his mind, and his body felt awash in flame. His eyes stung as though filled with smoke, and Gwydion blinked tears from his eyes. The strange sensory input subsided slowly but did not fade, and he immediately knew what the feelings meant.

A surge of power swept through his being in response to his desires, and Gwydion leapt into the air. A blinding flash of sunlight lit the woods, and he was away, a fiery, golden-tailed comet streaking through the night, racing towards the city of Bendelsain…