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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Aug 31, 2011 15:00:56 GMT -5
It had scared him a little, how she had reacted, and Éamonn didn’t readily admit he was one to be scared. That was one of the reason he’d like to let the topic go. He could simply add that to the curious things she had already done, right, like defying him so openly, challenging him to kill her and so on. She was just of a weird type. Maybe that came with being an elemental witch? Relying on knowledge of his past was not something he liked to do either, mind you, so actually sifting through his mind comparing her behaviour to the people he had grown up with, the druids, was something done only hestitantly. But then she might simply be one of a kind, in all her challenging glory. He liked that, oh yes he did. Éamonn Goronwy had always been one for uniqueness, even more so when it came with such feline behaviour and beauty.
He nodded only to her remark, openly dismissing the topic and moving on to those he felt more on terra firma with.
Not that reckless? That sent him snort-chuckling again, and this time not even so much against his will. That had to simply be the understatement of the year! He had never met such a reckless person as herself in all his life, and that was a given! The nudge was something he enjoyed as well for a change. It showed just on what a different level their weird encounter had come by now. Like they had been friends for a while, which was an oddity in itself. The Shadow didn’t have friends, he didn’t need them and he sure as hell didn’t miss them… but now he could catch a glimpse on just what he MIGHT have missed. And that confused him.
He overplayed it though, given his next chuckle a suggestive undertone as he sized her up mocklingly.
”Need you, my dear? Now I can’t even begin to guess for what… to annoy them maybe? Or to… entertain them, in many ways…?” He brought his face close to hers, building up a temptation to resume what they had been doing before… would she be able to resist it? And more so… could he?
Given, she didn’t squeal. He had to almost admire her for that. With most girls if he had pulled such a stunt with them, his ears might as well be deaf from the sounds of protest they let go. Not so her. All he felt was the tensing of her body, until even that died down, which made him wonder. Did she actually feel SAFE in his arms? In the arms of an assassin who had killed more men and women than he possibly could count and didn’t think twice about it? She truly was a mystery!
“Warn you?” he shook his head and bit his lips to withhold a chuckle, but couldn’t help a devious smile lighting up his face. “Now where would have been the fun in that?”
He continued walking, as swift as he could, for he really liked to be out of Camelot’s boundaries soon enough. To her warning about the ‘surprise’ he only cocked his head and grinned down at her. “Oh, how I loooove surprises”, he crooned, giving his voice a suggesting tone again on purpose. What could possibly be there to scare him?
But then, when he had just entered the woods, he changed his mind rapidly about his own self-assurance. As if it had practically been waiting for them, some…THING broke out of the underbrush and jumped at them, teeth bared and growling. Its anger seemed mostly be directed towards Éamonn, but just in case, he swiftly let Kazira off his arms and moved a protective step in front of her, glaring at the beast. “All demons of hell”, he snarled, drawing his dagger, “what is THAT?!”
(SO SORRY it took that freaking long!!! I will be better in the future, promise!! <3 )
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Jun 28, 2011 10:24:00 GMT -5
Éamonn listened to her outburst with eyes growing wider and wider with every word that left her mouth. Kazira seemed to be far away, engrossed even, for even as her words were directed at him in the beginning, she had long since stopped looking at him. Her eyes were focused on something only she could see, memories perhaps, shadows from a past he could only so much as guess about. Wow. He sure as hell hadn’t wanted to trigger SUCH a stark reaction. He had only spoken the truth after all, his truth, and there she went turning it into something so very personal. It was confusing, very confusing indeed!
She now spoke about the deaths you caused haunting you, and of many more unpleasant things that seemed to be an issue for her. They had never been an issue for him, and if that made him less human, then there was nothing he could or was willing to do about it. Such repercussions he had chosen to ignore the minute a firm handshake had sealed his first order to kill. He was always swift enough to never have to look in pleading eyes, and he never played any cat and mouse game with his prey. They were dead before they knew it, and so that spared him and them much hassle. That’s why his nickname was “The Shadow” after all. Because he was invisible and intangible, and the only thing his victims might ever get to see was a dark shadow pouncing down on them. Or cold, fathomless eyes behind a black mask… he was not a person when he killed, he was nothing but a shadow himself. That might be what had saved him from being tormented like Kazira was.
Then she blinked and the spell was broken. She didn’t even seem to remember what she had said, and that spared him the trouble to find any excuses. For he couldn’t deny he had been moved by her enraged speech. Such concerns weren’t his own, but he could call himself lucky because of that! To have a strong conscience was never an easy thing.
“Nothing you should regret”, he appeased her with an almost loutish grin. He was nothing if not a good actor, after all. “You spoke your mind, as always, let’s just change subjects, alright?” He would be damned if he let himself being talked into a bad conscience – by anyone!
He chuckled lowly when she spoke about taking this secret to her grave. It was just such a dire and solemn thing to say, and yet it was about nothing else than keeping up pretenses about his reputation. The situation was quite a comical one, and Éamonn almost couldn’t think back when his life last had had such a comical relief. His entire life more or less consisted of waiting for new orders and carrying them out, sometimes a fun and drunk night in the tavern and a quick conquest here and there. This… this was quite different, and even if it might make him sound like a wimp, he even started to like it.
“Well, knowing you and your recklessness, that grave might not be far off”, he joked and gave her an almost affectionate nudge. “Then again, knowing you and your stubbornness and pain-in-the-neck qualities, I bet even a grave probably couldn’t hold you for long.”
Lord Astras? Had she mentioned before she was of noble blood? Hmm… well if she had it must have slipped his mind. An Irish Lord, then… Éamonn’s family and the whole druid community had never much taken part in the clan wars, but of course he knew a bit about them. On what side had Lord Astras been on? Any side at all? Hmm… maybe he would ask Kazira sometimes, but not now.
She looked almost cute when she stood before him like that, bashful almost, shy or at least awkward. In all his 25 years of wandering this earth and battling his way through life, he had never felt protective of anyone, not even his little siblings. But right now, he was coming dangerously close to this unknown concept of a sentiment.
“I couuuuld”, he dragged it out just to tease her a little and keep her in suspense for a moment longer, but inside his mind the decision was already made. Yes, he would carry her, simply because it felt so darn good to hold her. And it was not like she was any burden, right?
For a few heartbeats he kept smirking down at her, before he suddenly scooped her up into his arms without any further warning. His right thig gave a little protesting twinge and for a moment he wondered why. It wasn’t a rainy day after all… but then he remembered just why he was wet – SHE had made it rain. Interesting that his battle scar would protest even from that…
“What was the direction again?” he asked as he resumed his walking. “Straight into the woods, right?”
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Jun 26, 2011 17:12:08 GMT -5
It was official. Éamonn was confused. And not so much because he had already had his fair share of drinks tonight, which could serve to make many a man confused, but he had been confused BEFORE he got here and if he was completely honest, this confusion all in all was the reason he WAS here tonight, in some tavern he couldn’t even remember the name of, trying to forget that he was confused. Alright, so far he was not making much progress.
What could have happened? What possibly could turn a hard boiled, self-reliant and borderline arrogant assassin into this self-conscious shadow of a man? How could he have come this far down. Of course… a woman, what else? Women truly were the bane of any men, and until now he had thought himself immune to their spell. Until she had happened, a woman unlike any other. Wasn’t it always like that? The pitcher goes often to the well but is broken at last. To every man there seemed to be his personal siren, his personal Delilah. The one woman only created to bring him down to his knees, and yet to make him feel like his doom was what he wanted most… It was confusing… very, VERY confusing.
He stared dully at his already half-empty tankard of strong ale, was it the sixth, the seventh? He had lost count. But drunk and confused as he might be, his senses were still more alert to their surroundings than it would be with a normal drunkards, though it did show in nothing. Just his ears were perked up to his surroundings and he occasionally listened into conversations or the snippets he could get of them. One never knew where his next order could come from after all. Someone might be in need of someone to get rid of another someone… discreetly and easy… just down Éamonn’s alley. Doing what he did best would get his mind off more… confusing things that didn’t belong in his life. The Shadow was a different man. His eyes held only the cold steel of death and determination, a dark tunnel were you never emerged from once you set a foot in it… they did know nothing of other feelings, let alone tender ones. That’s why the Shadow was a better man in Éamonn’s eyes, a perfect mask he could hide behind once his life got too… confusing, there it was again, stupid word!! He took another deep gulp out of his tankard that nearly drained it and then let his eyes wander over the tavern.
It was crowded with many people, men mostly, passerbys and locals alike, and also one party in particular that arose his interest. They looked wealthier than the most sort around here, sporting armor that surely was not cheap. In whole they looked much like knights, at least some of them did, and when he listened closer he could occasionally make out the word “Sir” in their talk.
There seemed to be some problem, as a few of them kept vanishing upstairs where the few rooms for overnight customers were and coming back, having a rather suspcious air about them. Éamonn, whose life often enough depended on reading facial expressions, easily deciphered that they had something to hide. Significantly, one of them, holding himself quite confidently, chose the exact moment where the landlord was absent to ask a very peculiar question.
"Anyone got a shovel?!" "Want to get rid of something."
Raising an eyebrow, Éamonn decided it was time to step in. Get rid of sometTHING? Or someONE? Well, if there was any man in this room suited for such a task it would be The Shadow. Though, of course, he could not announce himself so openly and stupidly like this man just had done…
All eyes were on the man now, so Éamonn actually could saunter up behind him rather unnoticed, leaning against a thick wooden pillar and playing with his now empty tankard. He arrived just in time to hear another fellow voice his own thoughts.
"It's not a body, is it?" "I wouldn't be so vocal about it if I were you."
“Or if you had thought of getting professional help earlier”, he chimed in unexpectedly with his low, velvety voice, “you wouldn’t have to ask all the world for a shovel now but sit down here with your friends having the perfect alibi. Just saying…”
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Jun 7, 2011 11:31:57 GMT -5
Hmm.. okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have voiced his thoughts like that, telling her what he thought she was and what not, that ought to make her react fiercely. He would have reacted the same way and they were so bloomingly similar in some aspects it was outright scary. But fact was he HAD said it and that was that. Éamonn just wasn’t someone to doubt and second-guess his actions and words for too long, it was part of who he was. So she thought he didn’t know her? Well, he knew a lot about killing and he also knew that it was an art rather than something done by the by. That’s why he and other fellow assassins he had come across always looked down a little on mercenaries. They should stick to fighting and not run around pretend that they were as good at killing as those were who earned their living with it!
But should he voice any of that? It would only lead to another endless argument undoubtedly. Could he handle that right now? He still was all but in enemy territory.
“You weren’t talking about me?” he inquired, raising his brows. “Well, you were talking about killing, and that means talking about me to some extent, as killing simply is what I do and what I am.” Why did he always emphasize this so much? Which part of him was it that didn’t want her to forget the creature he was? And why was he second-guessing himself yet again? That really got tiresome!
“Oh, and while we’re at it”, he commented and scoffed just a little bit, “if you knew so much about killing you would know better than to call this a mere ‘job’. It’s an art, a deadly art and one you might not be proud of in the eyes of the world. But someone who kills and brought himself to perfection in it, can well call himself artist in my eyes.”
There, he had said it! It really was gnawing on his honor, the way she talked. If there was something like an ‘assassin’s honor’… oh, there could as well be. The good thing about being your own man was that you could make your own rules and create your own cosmos.
He still was feeling very out of place while comforting her, and so when she told him he needn’t to, Éamonn felt a weird mix of indignation and relief. Here he was trying to act… human or normal or whatever you want to call it and she was amused by it, he could tell it from the tone of her voice! Then again… it MUST be a funny sight indeed. She seemed to get him well, apart from minor details maybe, so she had to realize how out of character that was for him, comforting, speaking words of condolence and such.
“Well…” he mused, “I don’t know if I should be offended or feel honored if someone can lean on me, but I think I’ll go with the latter for the time being. Just… swear to never tell anyone, right? I’ve got a reputation to lose after all!” Joking didn’t help overlooking the fact though that he would have liked to hold her for much longer, minus the condoling part of course. She really must have cast a spell over him somehow… he just couldn’t let go like he should!
It was sweet to see her blush, but it also made him react in a totally unexpected way. It evoked a certain desire in him that seemed to grow with every minute he stayed close to her. It was a desire to throw all hesitance overboard, to just accept what was happening here even if he couldn’t even name it yet. And yes, however sappy even that sheer thought was, he wanted to make her blush all over again, simply because it was so adorable, That maiden blush transformed the hissing wildcat into a purring kitten, and even if he wasn’t one for the cute normally, he had a certain feeling he could like that…
When she told him her ‘secret’ he chuckled breathlessly. That was just like her, filling him with expectations and then stating something so simple. Or… WAS it simple? She had… yes she had used “we” and unless she was a fan of the royal we, that meant…
“You sure you CAN walk there?” he asked to distract himself from those thoughts that had just entered his mind. “Or do you mean: me walking and carrying you?” He grinned loutishly. “Not that I would mind…”
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on May 16, 2011 11:49:55 GMT -5
She wasn’t offended. Good. Sometimes girls could be so very touchy, but he guessed Kazira just was not that kind of girl. She could take a good jibe on her behalf, without lashing out in indignation or – heaven prevent – burst into tears because she was not being taken seriously. He liked that. Even though she knew who and what he was, she still had decided to stay around him, bearing with his arrogance and deadly background. At first he had waved that aside as overdeveloped audaciousness and even stupidity, but slowly Éamonn started to realise that there was more to her behaviour. It simply was who she was, she wasn’t scared of him because she apparently knew what to deal with. Even though he still found that hard to believe sometimes…
“Your wish shall be my command”, he replied cheekily, returning the poke in her chest, but letting his finger linger there for a little while longer, turning the friendly poke into a far more… promising caress. As if wanting to remind her and himself alike that in his eyes they had worked past the friendly banter already. He was by no means sure where to go with this, but ther was no harm in playing with the possibilities, was there?
Her comments about herself and killing still irked him. Of course he knew he was by no means the only assassin in the world, and he also knew a few female ones, though rare they were. But Kazira… she didn’t belong into this world in his eyes. Even though she surely was a tough girl, she still had this air of breathtaking innocence about her which he absolutely admired. Maybe he was not seeing her for who she really was, or he was closing his eyes to reality, but he just could not get the cold-hearted, brutal work of an assassin and her in one picture.
“It shouldn’t be”, he murmured stubbornly. “That’s not you…” Only then the second part of her comment really got through to him, and he instantly furrowed his brows. “You’re not implying that I kill for fun, Kazira, right? Because that is not true. I merely don’t care. There’s a difference.” Given, the difference was not much, and he couldn’t deny he liked the thrill of those final seconds and he also liked the fear in their eyes were they ever awake to know what was going on… but killing for FUN? No, that was pushing it!
Oh great… now he had done it. She was apparently turning to him for comfort, wanting to here some soothing words or something similar. Problem was, he couldn’t do that… that was not him. Even before turning into The Shadow he had been most awkward about commiseration. He technically knew how it felt, and he surely didn’t want Kazira unhappy… but thinking it and actually SHOWING it… there was a difference as wide as river valley… just great!
His arms awkwardly moved around her slender frame to hold her close for a moment, but he was unsure what to say, or if he should say anything at all. This was so not his field of action! He felt wooden, useless, out of place. And pressured on top of it – because for once in his life he DID care what someone would think of him.
“Eh… I see…” he muttered helplessly. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
For a moment he feared his outburst had ruined it all. It should have ruined it all. That’s how things usually went. If he ever got close to someone, sooner or later he pushed them away automatically. And normally he didn’t care. But Kazira… for once in his life he felt the secret wish of someone staying in his life for more than just a few hours.
But then salvation came in her completely unexpected apology. Clearly, he wouldn’t have thought it possible. It almost made him feel bad. Almost though was the key word. He doubted he could ever change THAT much.
Still cupping her head in his hands, he smiled down at her, brushing his lips against her forehead in the possibly most fond gesture he had ever chosen to show in his entire life.
“Well I guess, if we’re both out of words, we shouldn’t try to force them out. Maybe they’ll come to us… in time?” he suggested hestitantly, then grinned expectantly. “I love secrets and mysteries. Please do tell!”
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on May 2, 2011 20:00:11 GMT -5
Die out in caution of something you have no knowledge of… those words struck some chord in him, deep within. All his life he had struggled to be the one to be feared. People would shiver in front of him, gasping for mercy or not even knowing that their time was up because he was closing in on them, too fast for them all… but was he really the one setting aflame? Or was he the one burning? Wasn’t it true that every single time he set out to kill, her inched closer to the flame, dancing just out of reach of getting caught and immanently killed? Would he one day fall prey to these flames? But that didn’t bother him… he was thriving on that risk, every day, every night. Or were it some other flames she was talking about? Even the sheer thoughts of it were pure danger. There was nothing else to him… not anymore, and he liked it that way. But still, if he was honest for just a second, he could put a name to this flame. Being. Feeling, whatever you wanted to call it. Giving yourself. Letting go. And Kazira was this flame, because she symbolized all that for him. If he didn’t back away now, he would get burned and then he would be no more. But that’s what distinguished him from the moths. He was aware of the danger, he could stay away from it. Only that he didn’t.
Éamonn had to surpress a chuckle. Her again and her worldly wisdom. How old was she? One hundred? She surely talked like that! At the same time he knew he was only making fun of it because he didn’t want to really think about it. In his eyes, he wasn’t afraid of anything. He was always the one to analyze things, right? By now, no one had ever bested him and so he needn’t concern himself with the possibility. Once again, did he even know what she was referring to? More so, did she even know it herself?
“Thank you very much Kazira”, he replied in an exaggeratingly solemn tone. “Should any fear ever knock on my door, I will be sure to use that wonderful phrase to shoo it away – given I even recognize it as fear, cause I’m not so sure how it looks like.” He could probably carry on like this all day or rather night, and he could even fool himself. What was this girl doing to him that he doubted himself even for a second? That he really graced her comments with true consideration, however short? Maybe that was another of her magical tricks…
Raising an eyebrow at her bold statement, he wondered what might be on her mind to give her such confidence. Not that it was any of his concern of course, but he truly would hate to see her captured and burned at the stakes. It would cause one hell of a hubbub and mess to get her out of there safe and sound, and after that stunt he would have to leave Camelot just as he was settling down and forming another succesful informers network - - wait… was he really already that far into this affair he didn’t think twice about saving her, risking his own skin should she get in trouble? All demons of hell…
“If you say so”, he replied a little loftily, mostly to annoy her. It just was so much fun annoying her, as she got easily worked up when she thought he didn’t take her at face value. “But forgive me if I say one thing: Don’t get too involved into killing people if you can help otherwise. It’s not the most fun business in the world – for people who are not born to it.” Even though it was dark and he was ‘slightly’ occupied with other things, one of them being carrying a very attractive woman with very little clothes around the midsection, he couldn’t help but notice the same woman’s distress all of a sudden. And for once he found himself actually caring. “Cad é an t-ábhar, mo cat fiáin? What’s the matter, my wildcat”, he asked lowly.
Her constant questions were truly annoying! They chased away the slight feeling of comfort he had just experienced while kissing her, the very same feeling he had tried to cling to for just a little longer, as it was so unexpected and… almost nice. But of course her questions ruined it again! Why did she always have to do that? Wanting to know the reason behind everything he did – he couldn’t even say himself!! He had never felt so confused in all his life!
”Goodness Kazira, I don’t know!!!” That came out far harsher than he had wanted and he took a deep breath to calm down both mind and voice. “All I know is that you challenge everything I’ve lived for so far. No thoughts, no reflections, no feelings. And part of me, the part I know, is not wanting to let go of this way. Demons and devils, you should hear me speak…! I… ah, I can’t even word it!”
Éamonn gave up with a frustrated unarticulated sound, half between a snarl, a yell and a groan. There was just no use! Why did he even try to work it out? Wasn’t it just easier to let it go? Yes, indeed, why did he even try? The answer was a tiny voice inside his head, timid, almost unhearable, but there. Because she might be worth it…
With an almost mad chuckle, Éamonn raised both his hands to cup Kazira’s face in them, looking down on her with burning eyes. “You, silly.” He stated simply. “I can’t seem to let YOU go.”
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Apr 10, 2011 13:38:09 GMT -5
Like a moth to a flame… a very fitting comparison indeed. Éamonn had often watched this phenomenon when sitting at a fire at night, when it was already warm enough for moths to come out and dance. Even as a little boy he had been fascinated by this inevitable fact, and no one had ever been able to explain to him why they risked to die just to be close to the flickering flames. Was it the warmth that drew them near? Well, whatever it was, it wasn’t of much use to them. One tiny flap too far and they burst into flames as well, just a quick moment of wonderful brightness where they resembled beautiful sparks, but then… extinction. Was that really to be desired?
“Then make sure you don’t come too close”, he murmured, a bitter smile playing around his lips. “It’s no lasting ecstasy and beauty to go up in flames. To be a bright spark, but only for a second… is that worth it, I may ask you?”
Éamonn bit back a grin. So she had noticed – so what?! She didn’t seem very offended and he was thankful for that. Despite her nosiness and stubbornness on certain accounts Kazira was truly a very togh woman, not whiny in the slightest, even though she was injured and probably didn’t encounter the best night of her life. A relief to not having to deel with whimpering and whining tonight, as Éamonn couldn’t care less about such blatant show of weakness. It just strained his nerves and him with strained nerves was never a good opponent to encounter.
“Not to miss as soon as I enter the woods?” he mildly scowled down on her. “Girl, I think you have a LOT to learn when it comes to setting up camps…what if some guard drops by for dinner and spots one of your… wet abilities?”
This kiss was possibly the sweetest he had had in all his life and its sweetness nearly killed him. This was not like anything he had ever felt before. There were so many questions and uncertaincies involved in all of this weird game, hardly one single certainty to be found. That made both of them hestitant and with the hestitance came the sweetness.
That would have been Éamonn’s conclusion had his mind be calm and collected, seperated and above all that was happening right now. But of course it wasn’t. He was right into it, and had no idea where he was going. For the first time in maybe all his life, Éamonn was tempted to let go. To succumb completely, throw all reason and distance over board and just live and feel this very instant, kissing Kazira.
He was so very close to it, when she moved her hands over his cheeks, caressing them. Caress… this was a distant memory. He had been caressed as a child, but had quickly grown out of it. Wanting to be a man didn’t go well with tender touch. And all his previous encounters with women had been about satisfying needs. Passionate, yes, wild and corybantic, but never tender. But somehow this tenderness did not make him feel degrated, it made him feel gentled.
However, she pulled away and the moment passed, leaving only the mild echo of some things behind that could have been. Was he sad or relieved it had not come to him losing himself? Either way, it was still clear things had changed irrevocably between him and this unique girl, though where they would be going from here, they both didn’t see.
“I wish I knew”, he whispered back, leaning his forehead against hers, content for the moment to just drown in the fathomless gaze of her eyes, hoping to find there what he espired: Hope for the hopeless. Some new beginning where there had just been ends.
“I don’t know why, Kazira, but I do know I did not speak the truth earlier… do not seek reason within me though, as there is none. But I also know I cannot let this go.”
This answer wouldn’t satisfy her, as it didn’t even satisfy himself. Feeling anything but either contempt or detached respect for others was as new an emotion as it was confusing.
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Apr 6, 2011 10:47:27 GMT -5
To say Éamonn was not in a good mood would probably win the award of understatement of the year. He was fuming, cursing inwardly about everything that came his way. Stupid moonless night (normally he loved such nights), stupid cowardice of his ‘employers’, stupid thoughtfulness of his victims to spoil his carefully laid out plans in the last minute, stupid life he led anyway, stupid, stupid, stupid!
The reason why he was so angry? Oh that could be easily guessed. It was a moonless night, perfect to wallow in shadows, perfect in many ways, perfect to kill – just that he had no one to kill, not anymore that was. Not that anyone had bothered to tell him, he had nearly walked in on a most delicate scene, and only his remarkable talents had saved him from being spotted as an intruder with ill intentions.
That was why The Shadow was now on his way back from the manor his supposed victim lived in, through the dark woods at night, fitting into his dark mood. A man with a less fearsome reputation might have felt the slightest inkling of unease concerning his surroundings. Walking the woods at night was not the best of ideas, it could easily get you killed. But Éamonn of course had no such fears. He was the one doing the killing, not receiving its curse, and the man to sneak up on him and then even besting him in a very unfair fight had yet to be born. And who was afraid of a fetus?! Certainly not him! But his confidence didn’t do the trick in raising his mood tonight, he needed an outlet for all the tension that always built up inside him before a killing. He could lash out at tree trunks of course, but where would be the fun in that? No… he needed to see the fear in someone’s eyes to cool off!
As if his wishes had been answered he suddenly spotted a figure moving through the woods in front of him. No… two figures it was… one smaller and more bouncy… a dog. Huh… that was unfortunate. Dogs were known for not taking it well if their masters were attacked, but then again The Shadow was positive he could outwit any mutt when it came to that, he had come past many in his life after all. As he crept closer, melting into the trees, the brushes and the shadows, he found his newest victim to be a young woman. Now a wolfish grin spread over his face, things finally started to look up. He would scare her a bit, and then maybe demand a little prize to let her live… not bad… not bad at all.
But he also realised he needed to be more cautious than usual, as this woman had the air of knowing what she was doing in the woods. He admired her lissom movements, and she had a bow ready to shoot on sight.
Only that she wouldn’t see him until it was too late. Weapons and dogs, those were obstacles, challenges even, but no hindrances for The Shadow.
She seemed alarmed now, maybe she was sensing something, and so he stopped and melted into his surroundings even more, waiting for her to start walking again. Her dog was now barging through the trees into the wrong direction, it was clear he had not found out the whereabouts of the man who would come down on his mistress yet.
Careful not to make even she slightest sound, he slipped a curved knife out of his sleeve where he had it hidden away and came up behind her, a ghostly, anticipating grin on his masked face.
Before she could start to realise the presence behind her, his arms darted forward, the one holding the knife pressing against her throat, the other wrapping around her slim waist.
“Good evening, fair maiden, can I borrow a few minutes of your time?” he whispered in his favourite low, menacing tone.
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 30, 2011 13:16:40 GMT -5
It was a dangerous affair for her to be touching Éamonn when he was in this kind of state, not very well knowing where to put his emotions. It could have easily have resulted in him lashing out and hurting Kazira, but once again, she stroke lucky and he didn’t. Maybe it was because what she said puzzled him greatly. She really did want to know him? Both the Shadow and the man behind? Why in hell’s bloody name? What was there about him worthy to know? He was dangerous, she already knew that. He killed for a living, she already knew that as well. What more was there to find out? Strangely enough, Éamonn found he was intrigued as well. He had been burying everything else for so long, he was by no means sure this ‘everything else’ was even still there, alive, breathing. It could be she digged too deep and found nothing but emptiness. Dangerous emptiness. Could he really dare to let her?
“You’re mad, Kazira”, he sighed and lightly brushed her cheek. “I warned you countless times and still you persist. Why? Can you tell me that?”
A challenge? Oh, he quite liked the sound of that! He was always up for challenges, they made life far more exciting. The actual content of the challenge was another matter. “Kiss me once more and then resist me.”… He knew himself well enough to realize that if he kissed her now, they wouldn’t be going anywhere for quite a while. Did she know that as well and was even speculating on it? Did she know that with one kiss, she would be his for the taking? That he might unleash something inside him that was far more dangerous than all the cunning and stealth of The Shadow combined? No, she didn’t know, as she still didn’t know him. But he knew, and that was why he could not accept this challenge. His own challenge he had burdened himself with, resist her entirely, was enough of a load.
“I don’t think I will be doing this, no, no my sweet Kazira!” he teased. “That would be far too much down your lane, right? By the way, where AM I walking anyway?” he tried to change subjects with a lighthearted tone. Even the first kiss had been one too many. He couldn’t risk it. Not because he didn’t want to… but a kiss never stayed a kiss. Not in his world anyway.
He knew he had hurt her now, and even though he thought it was for the best, it still hurt him too. Yes, hurt him. He grinded his teeth as he watched her limping away, not saying a word to counter her blows, not saying a word to call her back. Rain started to souse him all of a sudden, heavy rain, falling on him as if heaven cried. That puzzled him. Just a moment before the sky had been clear, starry. Was this another one of her witch tricks? He had witnessed water dripping from her hands before. Elemental control then… interesting. Perhaps that was her last blow aimed at him, getting him all wet and cold, as a punishment for rejecting her. That would figure. Only that she seemed to have not much control over it… every time she had been nervous or agitated, water had been dripping from her fingers, he had observed that very well. Agitated… why was she agitated? Alright, he had not been the nicest of counterparts, but she should be happy to have escaped with her life, not sad! But she was…
And if he was honest for even a minute, so was he. He should have long since been on his way, and yet he stood there, motionless and watched her limp away. That was not right. It was not like him. What had she done to him? It felt wrong… but not because of him… because of her… her distress, it made him uncomfortable.
His right foot took a step forward before he could stop himself. She made him feel. That was not right… and yet it was. The Shadow had no feelings, no friends. He needed none. He needed nobody but himself, and someone to kill. Now his left foot followed suit. She made him feel…
Suddenly he found himself breaking into a run, rain clashing into his face, up his trousers, soaking the light shoes he was wearing to be soundless. He came up behind her in mere seconds, swift and soundless like only he could, reaching out for her shoulders and turning her around. To face him, wet like a drowned rat, not much looking a threat anymore.
“My name is Éamonn”, he whispered, and then bent down to kiss her.
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 29, 2011 10:32:36 GMT -5
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 29, 2011 10:14:28 GMT -5
Now what was that? Quite an interesting outcome of things, Éamonn had to admit. He saw the heat in Kazira’s eyes and he couldn’t help his body respond to it. Was she out to SHOW him simply that she was by no means a little girl? Interesting, like he had said before. It’s been too long since any representative of the female sex, be it girl or woman, had touched him in such a way. She might just be proving her point there quite exquisitively. Should he give her the satisfaction of admitting that he could not very well see her as ‘exeedingly young, like a child’ when she was working her wiles like that? His pride never would allow that of course, but there was a time for pride and there was a time for accepting a point… Éamonn still was pondering on which way to go about this when he felt her foot collide with his. This time he hadn’t been expecting it at all, and so there had been no time to draw back, even with the swiftness he liked to praise about himself. But he was still man enough to not hiss with pain. The flicker of an eyelid was the only indication showing it hurt.
“And here you go again, ACTING like a child… stomping your foot, not the way a ‘woman’”, he grinned down at her, “would react. You might consider working on that, sweet Kazira!”
He had no answer to her next question and so he didn’t give any. How should he know why he hadn’t killed her? This question was floating around in his own head ever since he had chosen to let the knife drop to the floor and kiss her instead. Heaven and hell, sticking to the other option surely would have spared him a LOT of trouble!
Feeling a weird mix of letdown and relief, he listened to her short, emotionless explanation. Letdown? Was he really a little bit annoyed she apparently didn’t find him worthy of saving? He really had to get away from this woman, she was beginning to have strange effects on his way of thinking. “Good we agree on that, then” he replied with an equally deadpan voice. She was right, after all. Trying to save him would be stupid and futile at that.
Éamonn had to admit, her giggle irritated him and not just a little! It was a painful jibe to his pride and his self-confidence, a stab into everything he was made of, apparently. He could feel a certain temper boil up inside him, and he had a right mind to just drop his giggling load onto the street, give her a few kicks and then be done with this impudent broad for all time to come. Had the load been anyone else but Kazira, he would have done it, and no mistake. He might be sparing her the kicking, but she still was treading on very thin ice – and should know that!
“Why are you laughing?!” he growled and shook her a little in his arms, all gaiety gone from his eyes. The Shadow might have many weaknesses, but his greatest surely was he couldn’t bear being mocked – by anyone. “Who ever said you’d be part of the team then? When I have dumped you successfully where you want to go, I hope to never have to deal with you again!” But even as the words left his mouth, he knew they were not true.
Argh, what was she doing to him?! Both Éamonn and the Shadow had to admit, she might be right in what she said. That had been a lot of admitting lately… what was happening to him? He felt her kisses and pecks like the stinging of wasps, moving all over his sensitive skin, providing him with a sick pleasure. His self-control, the one thing he was proud of beyond compare, was waning. Everything in him ached to pay her back in kind, right here and there, but of course it could not be – not yet. He could not lose this battle of will and wiles. He could not lose anything, not now, not ever!
“Well, look at it that way”, he suggested, every muscle rigid, only his ragged breath giving away his inner fight. “It’s either stopping now or being dumped into the dirt with the prospect of crawling all the way you want to go. Your choice!”
His mask of sheer indifference and willpower was razor-blade thin. He knew that, and she probably knew that as well. It was all a matter of how audacious she really was, signing to trigger a black thunderstorm...
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 24, 2011 16:24:53 GMT -5
Oh no, he had said the G-word again! How could he even! Éamonn had to hide a mischievous grin as he thought about the possible consequences. Would he outlive the day? Would she lash out at him with her claws now, or would he get off cheaply just this once. “Which term are you objecting most to?” he asked with fake interest, cocking his head. “Girl or little? If it’s girl, I could also call you little woman, if you like that better. But fact IS, you’re smaller than me”, he finished with another grin, raising even on his toes a little to state his point.
“And for your information, Kazira”, he continued, giving his best image of a blasé look. “If it wasn’t for you and your nosy questions, I would long since be gone.” Truth be told, he was long since past the point of being angry about her interruption. This woman was intriguing beyond compare. If this was another place and another time, he would have settled down to banter with her more already.
Éamonn was instantly annoyed again. If anything, he didn’t like anyone going all psychological on him, telling him what he was feeling inside. He knew that very well himself, thank you very much! If he said he wasn’t missing his home, why couldn’t she take that at face value? She didn’t know anything about him, despite all her nosy questions, and probably she never would. He didn’t even know himself most of the time, and why should he? All he needed to know was what he needed for his tasks as an assassin. Of course, he wasn’t the Shadow every hour of the day, but he still refused to think too much about his past. What was the benefit of that anyway?
“Kazira… cut it out!” he sighed with a resigned voice, hunching his shoulders. “There is no need for this. I am who I am, don’t try to change me, spare yourself the trouble, cause it won’t work. It’s for the best”, he added, trying to sound irenic for good measure.
He wouldn’t show it, of course, but deep down Éamonn was truly impressed. He had seen before she was no wimpy girl, guiding his hand to kill her and all that, but being so indifferent about someone’s death, watching it, even commanding it – that needed some bones! He found himself imagining her being his partner in crime – for now she already had been… Foolish guy! He chided himself. You just seek some excuse to see her again, and how pathetic is that!
“Well, there is always a next time”, he murmured in a very dark, menacing ‘Shadow’ voice, grinning down at her. “I’ve marked their faces now and I even have a name. Maybe the Shadow will prowl down on them in some dark corner?”
Feeling her twitch under his touch, Éamonn couldn’t help but grin maliciously. “Someone’s ticklish, eh?” he asked, moving his fingers even further upward. He enjoyed this very much. It sent him tingling all over, for whatever reason. Well, the reason was quickly found. He was a man, this was a woman. A very pretty woman, lying very thinly clad in his arms. And yet, if he was completely honest with himself, there was something else to this. He felt protective of her in some strange way, even if she didn’t seem to need his protection…
To distract himself from tehse confusing thoughts, he settled on teasing her a little more. His index finger traced a direct line from her navel up her body, the side of her neck into her hair. Slowly, teasingly. “You know you are at my mercy now, right?”
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 24, 2011 15:13:42 GMT -5
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 21, 2011 15:47:20 GMT -5
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her odd pantomime of holding her tongue. It had taken him a few moments to figure out what it all meant, but when he finally figured it out, he had to admit it was quite funny. Oh my, what a child was there hidden behind the feisty wildcat he had come to know. It made him wonder how many sides he still had to discover. Kazira was a true wonder of nature. He had never come across someone quite so interesting before. Would he be able to figure her out completely one day. Huh… how odd he would be thinking that. He should probably never see her again, and now he was making plans? Hadn’t he known better Éamonn would suspected he had hit his head somewhere. Hard.
“Hmm”, he stroked his chin, looking down at her, almost… teasing? Odd how a mood could change so quickly. “I could be mean and say ‘because I’m not a nosy little girl’, but really… I’m just biding my time. The questions will come, no worries. Right now, I’m on business!”
Despite how much she had showed she would not ask any more questions, they kept coming. Typical. But Èamonn had long since stopped being angry or annoyed. He was sort of resigned to his fate of being pestered with questions until he looked holey like a sifter. Oh how that would so not benefit his good lucks, but he reckoned he still could pull it off somehow.
“I was nineteen, so no need for pity there. I was a grown man and knew what I was doing. And I don’t even miss it.”
That might be a bit exaggerating, but he wouldn’t admit that even to himself. The Shadow had no feelings, least of all for his own petty past.
He chuckled, relieved that them soldiers were finally gone. He might have been able to take them out alright, it was just two against one, that was only considered fair in his case. The first one he could have taken down even before he noticed a threat was afoot, but what would be the use of that? And where to put the bodies? No, that all would be more trouble than it was worth.
“One moment more and I would have spilled their guts, annoying lot”, he growled though. “There is nothing worse in this world than guards!”
Was it an odd thing to not even think twice about committing murder in front of a woman? Hmm, well, maybe, but this was not any woman… this was Kazira. If she wanted to keep this up, she might as well know what he was made of. “But you have my full permission to throw something first should there be a next time!”
Not for a moment did Éamonn fall for her innocent act. Oh no, she knew very well what she had been doing, that was only too clear by the way she continued to trace her fingers on his back. Well, two could play at this game! And unlike usually, this was a game he thought he would rather enjoy!
“Suure you aren’t”, he whispered while steadily walking towards the outskirts of Camelot. “And I guess I’m not playing you either when”, he let one finger trace the bare skin of her belly, slowly moving upward, “… I’m doing this…?”
It only occurred to him now after the heat of the previous moments of danger were gone that she really was not wearing much at all… How very interesting…
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 6, 2011 14:54:38 GMT -5
He really didn’t want to be bared to the soul in front of her. What right did Kazira have to demand answers to things he didn’t even want to answer to himself? She had no right, that was it! Why he still kept up with it was truly beyond Éamonn. He didn’t want any part of this expedition into his soul, it was far too annoying and dangerous a road to venture on. He had no desire to feel bad about things he did or refused to do. Why couldn’t she leave him in peace? What was the reason she asked so many questions? If she did want to know him, she should be content with what he was willing to show. Otherwise he might get fed up with her very soon.
Living in regret? Who said he regretted anything he did? He had never regretted in all his life, that’s just how he was! But arguing with her would just result in more questions, so he blatantly ignored her talking – until she once again pointed the finger straight on his weak spot. It left him almost agape. How did she do that? Could she read his mind? It was scary!
“I pray for you you’ll never find out”, he stated coldly. “Because I might just as well do it, Kazira. It’s who I am.”
He shrugged at her next comment, clearly not wanting to dwell on the subject of home either. There were many subjects he didn’t want to dwell upon, and even less in circumstances such as these.
“That’s why I left after all. Had it been a place for me I would still be there.” Back then, when his father had sent him away, it had felt like banishment more than anything else. But he had learned soon enough how right his father had been. He might have been born a druid, but he was not born TO it, his interests lay somewhere completely else.
What was this minx doing to him?! Éamonn had almost felt bad for somehow exploiting the situation by carrying her so close, but now look what she did! He wasn’t made of stone, she could not really imagine him to stay cool through her constant teasing caressing! Starting from where her lips pecked the delicate skin of his neck it sent a tingling sensation all over him and he had a hard time controlling his breathing. Oh he would make her pay for that the minute those soldiers were out of sight and earshot! He would repay her double time!
At least the soldiers seemed to buy their act, and even though it made him edgy he had to admit Kazira was very convincing in all she did. They really must appear like a slightly drunk couple on their way home, maybe out late but totally harmless – and that was all that counted.
Blinking dumbly at the two men he shifted her weight to one arm so he could tip an imaginary hat to them, and said: “Nooo offensh shentlemen… buut, I really mussht be goin’ now. Wee musht be… going, hehe!”
He saw them exchange amused glances and then the one who had asked Kazira about her shoes nodded and grinned. “Yeah, and who are we to deny you your fun, lad! The sooner we finish our round the sooner we can go home to our own ladies, right Steve?”
The man called Steve laughed and agreed. Both now finally turned into another street, still chuckling and calling a cheery “Good luck!” over their shoulders. Éamonn took a few more staggering steps forward in case they would look back, then as their steps had died down in the distance, he set out in his usual brisk and swift pace, not caring about still carrying Kazira. She was no burden after all.
“Alright that was good work”, he stated in a hushed voice. “So, now, dear lass, what do you think shall I do with you for playing me like that?” A wolfish grin spread over his face as he waited for her answer.
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 6, 2011 10:56:40 GMT -5
Saying words of comfort and being thanked for them, that was quite the novelty for Éamonn. Yes, he had demanded it in his thoughts just a moment earlier, but without really expecting to get it. That was not how things usually worked with him. He didn’t do good, so he didn’t expect good in return. Keeping out of other people’s affairs was his usual policy, and he lived well with it. But now he had meddled and found that it most likely was a one way road: once in a conversation such as this, you couldn’t find a way out of it without being overly rude. Normally Éamonn didn’t mind being rude, he wasn’t walking this earth to be liked – he had long since given up on that matter, probably ever since he had been a child – he merely tried to push his way through as well as he could. With the life he led he also could not afford any friends, because they would get dragged into things they could not handle.
Then she spoke of repaying him. Had he been a man like this rogue inside, he might have very specific ideas on how that payment should look like, but he was not like that. Of course Éamonn didn’t think himself any more virtuous or morally consolidated than him. The thought had entered his mind briefly after all, he was only a man. But blowing the same trumpet now would not only be lame, it would be foolish. And foolish was never Éamonn’s style. What else could he want from her? His latest commission had filled his pockets well enough, and the girl didn’t look like she had recently found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
“Don’t mention it”, he heard himself say before his mind had even reached a proper conclusion. That was very unlike him! Since ever when did he let such an opportunity slip through his fingers? Given a little more time to think he would have surely settled on something. But the words were out and all he could do now was make sure she didn’t think him a do-gooder by nature, now that would be unsettling. “And I mean that, you know. Don’t mention it, some people got a reputation to lose.”
Éamonn realized the subject of magic seemed not be an easy one with her, so he chose not to pursue it further. See, he could be a gentleman – if you indeed had to use such a word – if he wanted to, it was just very rare he felt this desire. But why shouldn’t he be generous tonight? He had another job completed and it looked like he would walk away from it unsuspected again. His life was like he wanted it to be, free of commitments, morally as well as in everything else. He was his own man, and who could say that for himself?
“I’m Éamonn”, he replied as she offered her name rather unexpectedly. “Éamonn Goronwy. And I take it you are not from here?” It felt odd to tower over her in such a way still, and so, without a second thought he lowered himself beside her on the ground, while still keeping a respectable distance. No need to scare her after all.
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 4, 2011 20:46:36 GMT -5
Gladly the drunkard forgot his accusation and backed off quickly. Éamonn liked to think it was because of his impeccable show of calm superiority, but maybe the man was just easily impressed. He left the girl alone though he did do it rather roughly. Éamonn shrugged it off inwardly, he was none to start a riot about violated rules of chivalry. Most of the time it was just not worth the effort. This girl was neither his love interest nor his sister, he just had no claim to pursue on her and now the imminent danger of her being turned in for the use of magic – whether she was guilty of it or not – had been averted, this matter was no longer his concern. In theory.
A nice thank you or show of gratitude wouldn’t go amiss, and what Éamonn got presented with was rather meager. Why was she fleeing the scene so quickly? Did she fear the rogue would change his mind? Or maybe she didn’t want to change one mess for the other… then again, no one could possibly compare him to that drunken, filthy, reeking peasant. He hadn’t forced himself on the girl in any way, he never ventured where he wasn’t invited. The amount of invitations usually didn’t leave anything to be desired anyway…
After a few moments of brooding the assassin realized the peculiar girl wasn’t to be wiped off his mind that easily. Maybe he should make sure she was alright? It was none of his business but, so he told himself, where one might forge ahead others would follow. The accusation of sorcery was easily made but hard to get rid of. Irrevocable damage was often enough done before the denouncers realized their mistake.
Finally, Éamonn got up and walked out of the tavern as well, not needing to look long for the girl. The sight of her, cowering low and hugging her knees, was enough to make any feeling heart melt. Too bad he wasn’t the owner of such a heart. It was still touching though, in a way. The whole encounter must have shaken her to the bone. Éamonn wasn’t the man for comforting words or gestures, but even he could not stand by and watch this. And any moment she might look up and see him anyway, so he would be the awkward one, not announcing his presence first. She might get the wrong impression.
“Quite the adventure, huh?” he commented nonchalantly, treading closer. "That was not what you had in mind when you came in there. Some folks are just too stupid for their own good. Everything they cannot grasp with their narrow minds just has to be magic, right?”
It was unusual for Éamonn to talk so much in a row, but he was in no mood for questioning himself. Next time he would not talk at all, and so the balance would be restored. He had other pressing matters on his mind than if he was seen as a blabbermouth. Maybe it was even better to act a little out of character. The less trails pointing to him the better, there was still a corpse turning stiff in this neighborhood.
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 4, 2011 19:39:52 GMT -5
The word coward was like a slap right into his face, though he had expected it. Of course she would say that, anyone would say that and maybe Éamonn would even say it himself. But did he care? He surely had never cared before, but her voice spitting out this very word was something completely else. It made ‘coward’ sound really shameful all of a sudden. But wasn’t it a really easy thing to say, considering he simply had no friends? He couldn’t feel anything by turning them in if they not existed, simple as!
“Last time I looked, cowards lived longer than heroes”, he shrugged, but was not very convinced of his own words as another thought entered his mind. How would it feel like turning HER in? He didn’t want to say he considered her a friend, they had only just met after all, but she still was special. If, say, someone burst right through this very door, would he have the guts and the will to turn the tables on her, claiming HE had been the one catching her red-handed and not the other way round? A part of his mind knew the answer, but it was hard to admit it even to himself.
Her question puzzled him. Did she really mean to ask him what was nice about his home? Once again they were toeing a line, a dangerous line he didn’t dare to cross. As the Shadow, he had no past and maybe not even a future, just the present, his work and his reputation that was made of his work and his work alone. Kazira didn’t know his real name and for now he intended to keep it that way. For Éamonn, the man behind the Shadow, was a totally different story. This guy had a past that was rather dull, not glorious, he didn’t even have a purpose in life. The Shadow had become the real man, Éamonn Goronwy only served as the alibi, the back-up. And he liked it that way. Being the Shadow was so very much more fulfilling. Should he really question that now just because she was that nosy?
“I liked the camp we were living in” he said finally, avoiding the real topic. “It was a quaint and calm place” But no place for him.
Alright, he could have done things differently. He might have found another solution than carrying her. But then, he wanted to know how that felt and it was also the best way to keep both of them moving, considering how she had limped even the few steps he had seen her taking after the leap down.
And it felt good having her in his arms. She was not heavy at all, and her breath on the crook of his neck sent a tingling sensation down his spine. He would not have to be a great actor for what he wanted to depict. “Even if it was – too late now”, he murmured, then started humming off key as the patrol came closer. Like he had expected they called out to him, asking about his business.
Éamonn slowly turned, Kazira still in his arms and gave his best impression of a slurred speech. “Suuusshh t-takinn my girliee hooome ish aaalll. Sheesshh tii’eed. B-but shdiiill god plans foa t’nighht”, he chuckled like a featherbrained fool, staggering even more, but inwardly tense if the soldiers would swallowe the bait.
[OOC left it open for you, you can godmod the patrol if you like  ]
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Mar 2, 2011 19:59:38 GMT -5
Had it been a good idea to come here? Éamonn thought about that many times over as he watched the tavern from over the brim of his tankard. He was drinking moderately, as always, there was never anything good in getting drunk. You might say things you will regret later, reveal secrets, brag with things you did and no one should know, especially not with the respective person being an assassin. That didn’t make him the favourite of the barmaids of course, but Éamonn was sure he quite made up for it with his good looks. Sooner or later one of them might cherish the company of a man who actually could still formulate a whole sentence without slurring and didn’t run the risk of losing his evening meal all over her.
Then again, coming here bore some high risks, even more so as he just had completed another of his jobs in a nearby manor. Now the mask that made him the shadow was tugged away safely in his bag, as was the black shirt, now replaced by a white one. Wearing black trousers and boots was not too uncommon for a man with a little more money than a peasant and at least the slightest hint of a fashion sense. If he striked lucky, the corpse wouldn’t be found before the night was through, and even if it was found, would they really think the murderer would show his face in the next tavern? His cheek could be as dangerous as it could be his safety.
He didn’t look for anything more than a quaint evening, some entertainment maybe, but that should not be of the troublemaking sort. After you got your hands bloody you appreciate a moment of peace. Sadly enough, there were always enough drunkards around in a tavern, and drunk men liked to pick on someone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a new quarrel arising. There was an obvious drunk men, a big fleshy fellow, and a young girl. Éamonn was not a hero and he didn’t meddle with other people’s affairs lightly. He might think that a guy messing with a girl – not a local by her looks and also somehow exotic, outstanding – was not right, but he was in no mood to point that out. Wasn’t his concern. Not tonight. Some other man feeling heroic would be delighted to take his place, that’s how it always was. And then he could have fun, leaning back and just watching the entertainment.
But the seconds passed by and no one so much as lifted a finger, and somehow the rogues accusations had turned serious. Had the girl used magic?! Éamonn hadn’t been there to watch her dance or whatever it was she did by the looks of her, the show had just been a good cover for his own ventures, everybody being occupied. There was not much that could bring the young assassin to really bother, but somebody being accused of magic was one of them. Being raised in a druid community did not leave him unaffected. He might have forwent his clan’s teachings often enough, but he still felt a hint of sympathy towards the girl. In this realm magic was a very sensitive topic, it could easily get you killed.
So he stood up and sauntered over, leaving his tankard neglectfully on the table. “Come on, man, you’re drunk, you don’t speak with your right mind. Look at her… skin and bones, already flinching from your hands. Is that how a witch looks like? Come on!”
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Offline
Sept 13, 2011 2:26:40 GMT -5
Tag me @eamonn
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Post by Éamonn Goronwy on Feb 28, 2011 17:43:19 GMT -5
Éamonn blinked and cocked his head. Was she serious? Did she really mean herself when she said someone might like to know his heart, or was he just jumping to conclusions? Was tearing at the very foundations of his codex yet again, delving where no one should delve did he still want to enjoy his life. His life style was set to poison anyone else’s life, as they would either have to live with the knowledge of covering for an assassin, or they would be hanged along as accomplices should he ever get busted. He didn’t feel guilty for anything he did, but he was well aware of the danger.
“Well, if so”, he replied, locking her gaze for a few moments, “then I cannot stop this someone, but I would not recommend it to him. I have to look out for myself, if it was to save my own hide, I would betray my closest friends had I any. I know I would.”
Would he, would he really? Now the least thing Kazira had managed was him doubting himself. And that was not healthy. Every tiny bit of doubt could be his undoing in a precarious situation. He could not afford it, not ever, that’s why he simply ignored the feeling most of the time.
And yet, there were things he could not deny when it came to this girl. The way it felt when she touched him for one. Yes, he was only human, it ought to feel nice when a pretty girl touched you. But there was something else to it, but Éamonn didn’t dare to think further on this. Instead he let go a little chuckle. “It was nice. But it got too crowded there for me.” He let that statement out without any further comment. He might like Kazira, might feel different towards her alright, but he had never been one to spill his life story.
Of course she would not admit she was hurt, Éamonn thought with an inward grin. Goodness, she was stubborn! He was about to oblige and let her have her way, when he heard footsteps approaching them, doubled footsteps and the low clinging of metal. Éamonn cursed under his breath, he would know that sound anywhere! A patrol! Probably coming their way merely by chance as no one inside that house had shown any sign of alarm. Now time was wasting.
Moving closer to Kazira, he hissed: “Get that mask off my face and hide it, quick. And then, please don’t work against me now, I have a plan!”
With that, he scooped her up in his arms, staggering a little on purpose.
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