Temperance {Celvi}

[Chase Cantwell]

The sun was breaching the horizon, it warming rays of pale pinks and yellows grasping toward the night shadows, ushering them away into hiding until the nights rein was restored. Frost littered every object, coating all in a soft shimmer of glittering white, creating a wonderland of sculpted ice figurines.
Song birds began to wake after the chillingly damp night, fluffing their feathers and tuning their tunes for the morning chorus as light began to further its journey into lighting the storm cloud covered day.

A masculine figure, dressed in finery sat on a bench beneath a old, knarred wood tree. His clothing was damp as the frost began to melt at the sun’s touch, darkening his pale, loose fitting shirt and muting the silver embroidering on his collar. His clothing, though fine in make, appeared to be rumbled as if he had slept in them the night before, hinting that, he had been sitting there underneath the tree for a long while.
His head rested on his hands which perched on his knees, causing his dark locks to tumble forward masking his face from the peeping eye. His breathing was slow and smooth, barely causing his chest to shiver with each relaxed breath.

The Queen’s personal messenger had been sitting on that bench since midnight, after waking from a nightmare that frightened him senseless. He had woken with such fear in his heart he could of swore what had happened in his dream was occurring in reality. But was soothed slightly with the fact it was nothing but fiction created by his mind. Unable to return to sleep, Chase had ventured into the courtyard in hopes of clearing his cluttered mind with the crisp night air. It had worked well enough to stupor him into dozing on the place he had sat upon.

A sharp cry of a distant bird, startled Chase from his sleep causing him to jolt upright in slight confusion of his surroundings. Briefly forgetting that he had fallen asleep out in the night’s air, he panicked and grabbed for the blade that should have been at his hip, but was absent.
A humored chuckle rumbled silently in his chest as memories of his why he was where he sat came flooding back to him. The dream that had startled him severely crept back into his mind causing Chase to shiver slightly.

He had been with a familiar face in his thoughts, a gorgeous soul who had caught him off guard with her brilliant personality that made him wish for another encounter. She was a Noble woman that made his heart race with a giddy feeling, instead of his stomach churn with disgust. She was perfect in every way; looks of a goddess, a smile that could melt any man’s heart and a laugh that made his heart sing with joy.
It was odd to feel like this for someone, whom he had only had one lengthy conversation with, but there was something about Celvi Gray. Something wonderful….

In his nightmare, they had been in the market again, laughing freely and enjoying each others company. No one second glanced them or disapproved of a commoner talking with a Noble. He remembered leaning in to kiss his lips against hers… But that was quickly shattered in a mess of dark figures and blood curdling screams. She was torn away from him, his heart breaking before he woke.
It all confused him, was that the Goddess’s way of warning him not to be caught up in a relation he couldn’t handle, or just a silly dream that frightened a man into a boy.

'Im going insane' the messenger thought, sighing heavily as he looked around the empty courtyard. He ran a calloused hand through his locks: smoothing out the knots, calming his nerves and taming the mess so to look proper if he were to meet anyone at his early dawn hour. Which was highly unlikely, but one never knew…

[Celvi Gray]

Celvi had awoken with the peculiar feeling that something was wrong. Or was it someone? It was nothing but a hunch, a thing that would normally cause her to sigh and shrug it off. But not now, when she was so wide awake, unable to turn over once more and go back to sleep.
Frowning she sat up, racking her brains over what might be the cause of this sudden unease. She had slept well, without disturbing dreams or in fact any dreams at all, so that could not be the reason. A quick glance out of the window showed her that is was just about dawn, the sun only just sending faintly glowing rays over the horizon.

Whoever could be awake at this time of day? Even the servants waited for the cock crow to rise with! Unless… it was no human being needing her help…
Artano! The idea sent her jumping to her feet. She had read about these kinds of things, about a special bond between horse and rider, making the one feeling the distress of the other. It might be nothing but a tale, but Celvi knew if she didn't check on it now, she would never forgive herself, if anything really should be wrong.

Without further ado, she quickly dressed, combing her hair only with her fingers, not bothering about any fancy hairdo. No one would be awake except her horse and whoever had heard about horses complaining over their masters' appearance? The thought made her smile through her concern. She only took time to grab a horse rug from her chest of belongings, for who knew what Artano might need, and then she hurried through the empty floors and staircases towards the courtyard that would lead her towards the stables.

Only when she had reached the outside, Celvi did slow down, taking a deep breath of the chilly and damp morning air. Despite her worry she was momentarily overwhelmed by the simple beauty of the scenery laying out before her. How she loved the early mornings in winter! Everything, walls, pillars, occasional grasshalms and even the branches of her favourite old tree were like candied with white frost. Her breath visibly floated out of her mouth like mist, spinning and tumbling playfully in the air, before vanishing into oblivion.

Her cheeks were burning in the cold and she cupped her hands over her mouth to warm them with her breath, scolding herself mentally for not bringing gloves.
Then suddenly she caught a movement from the corner of her eye and looked towards the old gnarly tree again. She often sat on the bench in front of it, listening to the whisper of the leaves in summer, trying to memorize the course of the branches in winter.
But now the bench was already occupied, by a hunched figure, hugging its knees as if to keep warm. Curiously Celvi took a silent step forward. So she was not the only crazy person around here? Or was this man the reason for her unease? He looked unhappy…

Then the man moved again, this time trying to straighten out his hair, and this simple movement was so familiar it hit Celvi like a mace, sending a warm shiver down her spine: It was Chase! How could she have ben so blind?
Idecisively, she put one foor forward, something was clearly wrong with him and everything in the young lady ached to know why.
But no, this should not be her concern! The palace courtyard was not the market place, here she was known!

Or was this a sign from Runnori? Sending her out at this time of day to meet with Chase, urged on by a feeling that now seemed to draw her towards this young man?
Quickly checking her surroundings if anyone could see her, she closed the distance towards the bench and called out in a hushed voice: "Chase? What are you doing here?" As she moved closer she saw the the state of his clothes and added a concerned "Have you been out here all night??!!"

[Chase Cantwell]

Chase sighed heavily, his gaze unfocused onto any subject as he returned his hand from his hair to his lap. His breath came out in a faded cloud of moisture. Amused, he watched it twist in form before fading into the morning sky. The sky churned lazily, its clouds weaving and ducking into one another as they debated whether or not to break open and let the rain fall to the frozen earth.
A breeze played with his damp locks and pulled at his shirt, causing him to shiver slightly and his jaw quiver with a soft clattering of teeth. He immediately regretted not grabbing his cloak before he journeyed out and had a inner gut feeling that he would be catching a cold.

The messenger’s head snapped at the call of his voice. Who was that? The voice so familiar but it couldn’t be. Would Celvi honestly be up this early? Adjusting his tired gaze, he focused in on the woman striding towards him. Good Goddess! It was Celvi! He began to panic on the inside, but his face showed nothing but a hint of surprise. ‘What will she think of me out here, dressed like this? A fool or insane?’ God how he wished to meet her on any other day than the morning granted. He was in no condition to mindfully converse with the Noble woman who had in such a brief time, stolen his heart.

A soft, nonchalant chuckle escaped his chattering jaw as he nodded slightly. “Morning Lady Gray” he managed to start, “Not all but the better half of it, yes.” Bluntly answered, but the truth. He rubbed a hand against his arm trying to warm it with friction before offering up a friendly grin. “Now, enough about me, what brings you out at this hour?”
He straightened his hunched frame, clenching his muscles to stop the tremors caused by the cold. Teeth chattered a moment longer before he clamped down on his cheek, keeping himself occupied with the new found pain instead of the cold. Oh how he wished for spring to come quickly and bring the warmth of summer. And how he wished for this meeting, so gratefully welcomed to be occurring else where and vainly he wished to be better dressed. Pushing away his own thoughts of his own well being, he shifted his gaze back to Celvi’s with a playful expression, trying to erase the barely noticeable expression of concern on her face.

[Celvi Gray]

Celvi felt the all too familiar dizziness creeping onto her, as she tried in vain not to focus on the man before her. Only Chase could make her feel this way, as if the ground suddenly wasn't as steady a foundation to walk on as usual. Maybe that was due to her heart picking up a beating frequency of unknown height.
Either way, Celvi had great difficulties to remain unfazed on the outside, while she once more took in his familiar features.

He always looked glorious to her, with his curly hair and his face, as delicately and nobly carved as any masterpiece she might have seen – and if you lived at the palace, the intersection of all arts, you were used to see perfection – but this time she nearly couldn't bear to look at him, even as or maybe because he looked rather imperfect concerning his clothes. Once more he proved he didn't need this finery to shine, and that made him even more desirable in her eyes…
Wait, what was she thinking?! It was not possible, never, even if the world stopped turning in this very hour!

Chase was one of the few people she hadn't learned to read, and this little fact made it very difficult right now to judge his state of mind. Was he annoyed that she crossed his path? Would he rather be alone? But why was he smiling then? And what was wrong with him that he deliberately spent a night out in the cold?
"Why, what happened?" she asked and sat down beside him. It might not be the most seemly thing to do, but at the moment Celvi couldn't care less. Chase was troubled or even sad, and she wanted to know why.

That was also why she waved his question all but aside, just stating: "I felt something was wrong and I guessed it to be my horse, but… well, I don't know anymore."
The truth was she began to believe she had felt his unease, but of course she couldn't voice that in front of him. The matter was already embarrassing enough as it was.
To distract herself from her disturbing thoughts she took another look at him and found him shivering. Impulsively she unfolded the horse rug and offered it to him.
"Good Goddess, you must be freezing!"

[Chase Cantwell]

Chase’s body fought against the contracted muscles, causing him to sporadically quiver with cold. He fought harder, trying in a childish way to impress this Lady before him that he was not a soft skinned, spoiled, prized toy of the Queen by, but a thick skinned man who didn’t let a little cold get to him. He tried to uphold the image of being a man who wasn’t fazed by anything: he had seen the black horror of war first hand when delivering messages, he had witnessed the killing of many a man. He was supposed to be unflappable, steel coated, a goddess blessed man! But he, was failing miserably and was embarrassed by the fact. And if there was any warmth left in his cheeks, he would be blushing. Thank the goddess for that much pity.Through the lopsided grin he had attempted to offer her, his teeth chattered slightly causing him to clamp harder on the bit of cheek flesh he had already been biting. In the process, he drew blood and found another bit of discomfort beside being cold to concentrate on. The thought of concentrating on the being that had been the center of his nightmare briefly crossed his mind but was dismissed. How ridiculous that idea was! To even fancy it a moment made his frozen cheeks attempt a blush again, but failed to his relief.

‘What Happened?’ She cares! About Me! He couldn’t believe that she would even bother asking why he had been outside for the majority of the night. The more sensible side of him pushed the thought of it was common courteously for her to do so. But then again, it could be genuine for she had been a gold heart character in the Market Place when she promised not to tell a soul where he had been and why.
He inwardly sighed a brief moment, debating whether to tell a wild tale or the truth. The truth sounded by far the better idea, for deep down he felt he could trust this girl who haunted his dreams.

With the offer of the horse rug she held in her hands, he further leaned in the direction of telling Celvi the reason behind his sitting on a bench outside, all night. “T-thank you.” His words came out with a slight stutter from his shaking jaw which embarrassed him greatly. But putting his embarrassment aside, he gratefully accepted her offering, his hand briefly brushing her’s as he lightly took the rug from her grasp.

He stood briefly, and in a stiff motion wrapped the clothing meant for a horse around his shoulders. He sat back down on the bench next to the noble woman, a grateful expression plastered clearly on his face. Shrugging deeper into the warmth of the rug, he licked his lips and let his gaze drift downward to the frozen grown where he gathered his thoughts briefly. Raising his gaze, he matched them with hers and started out slowly, “Well, it’s a bit of a childish reason why I am out here.” Chase’s gaze dropped back to the ground, “I had a horrific nightmare where someone I hold dear to my heart was taken from me and after I woke from it, I needed a bit of fresh air to clear my mind and ended up falling asleep on this bench.” His last few words came out in a chuckle, trying to bring out the humor in the situation.

[Celvi Gray]

It was disturbing but also a bit funny to see Chase fighting to hard to appear unfazed by the cold. What did he want to prove? The morning was chilly and if she hadn't brought her cloak she would sit here with clattering teeth, too!
Or did he want to impress her? What a silly thought! She was nothing to him – at best!! At worst, he was pondering in this very moment how to get rid of her nicely and politely, but nevertheless definitely.

The thought made her want to cry out with pain, but she mentally squared her shoulders and told herself to grow up. Why was it so hard for her to get a grip on this matter? How could this man influence her very state of mind simply by being there or not? It would be so easy to abandon all reason and live in this kind of dream world just for this moment. She knew though that the awakening in the end would hurt her even more and so she didn't dare to neglect the reasonable part of her mind, always trying to pull herself to the ground again the moment her dreams made her float some inches off the ground.

There were moments, however, when reason lost its grip on Celvi, and such a moment was when Chase accidently brushed her hand while taking the rug. The simple movement struck her like a lightning bolt, making her skin tingle where he had touched her and causing her heart to falter. Her head began to swim as she tried to work through this confusing heap of simultaneous emotions. Chase had never touched her before! He had attempted to in this confusing encounter at the market, but that was it! She snuck a glance at him from under lowered eyelids, hoping he had not realized her confusion.
"You're …You're welcome!"

His explanation was reasonable and Celvi could really relate to it. But the last part hit her like a fist in the stomach. 'Someone I hold dear to my heart'… so his heart was already taken. And just why not? It maybe was some pretty and nice commoner girl, maybe even the donee of his 'phony hero acts'. She shouldn't entertain the high hope he might mean his mother or some other relative with that. Did he even have relatives left?
The noble woman secretly moved her left hand behind her back and balled the fist until her nails dug deep into her palm, to not give in to the sudden wave of desperation flooding her mind.

"No…" she managed to say, proud of her abilities to hide any feelings, "I don't think it childish at all. I often dream to see the guard of honor guiding my father's coffin through the palace gates. One night it was so real I woke up screaming his name. But I don't have to worry about that anymore!" she added to lighten the mood.
"Just two days ago I got a letter saying he will return home soon. You can't imagine how relieved I am!"

[Chase Cantwell]

Chase sighed inwardly, wondering how much of an idiot he resembled and how much she was disliking him at this moment. Had he blown what little chance of winning her favor with his choice of words when explaining why he was outside, sleeping on a bench? He hoped to the goddess that somehow in some twisted and out of perspective way, Celvi would gather enough of his subtle hint she was the one dear to his heart. But that was a far fetched idea, nearly so as Chase being able to catch a star with a piece of string.

Her enthusiasm with the subject of her father being able to come home from the war, made a genuinely happy smile place its self on his lips. He was excited for her, knowing what it was like to be separated from family members and only being able to see them one in a brief while. As his mother always used to tell him as a boy when he first received his job at the palace, ‘The time spent with family was always one to be cherished, no matter how brief it may be.’

She offered a bit of comfort to what he feared was a childish reason. She had shared a similar subject of bad dreams, and that made his growing like or even possibly love on the girl grow more. She was a splendid soul, who had caught Chase’s heart without even trying.

“That’s absolutely wonderful, Lady Gray! I can only imagine how excited you are” he mused, his smile turning into a lopsided grin, sharing in the lightened mood she had started. His mind briefly touched on the idea of who her father was. His mind raced over the different faces and names he had come to known in his many expeditions to the warfront when delivering urgent letters to the commanding officers. No certain face came to his mind, but a kind personality kept popping into his mind. Sir Grey was kind, extremely honorable man and that was the only detail he could scrounge about the man.

Feeling put down on not being able to remember anything about this Lady’s father, he chewed on the inner layer of his skin, but this time not our of trying to occupy his mind of the cold but trying to find another fragment to start a conversation. “uh…erm” he shifted slightly, his gaze studying her face brief moment before turning to study a song bird that had decided to perch on a nearby tree before screeching a off-key song. “So what a week the Princess birthday falls on, with your father’s homecoming an all….”
He wondered if that was the right path of conversation to take or if he had just taken a wrong turn.

[Celvi Gray]

Celvi could almost feel her heart melt away as she watched Chase put on her favourite lopsided smile. At the same time though she felt it being squeezed together by pain. Why did life have to be so unfair? Why did she have to fall in love with a man she could never be with? Why were the Godess' ways so twisted and hurtful?
She could have lived with staying apart from him, only seeing him once in a while, but fate seemed to play cruel games, bringing them together over and over again, only deepening the already cut wounds.

There was nothing she could do about it, though. She wanted to be by his side as often as possible and to be nice to him, so that she could see his smile. The temptation of make-believe was just too strong.
Celvi slowly tilted her head back until the upper part of her face was bathed in the slowly upcreeping sunrays. Not long and her whole body would be reached by them, but just now, she savoured their little warmth only on her closed eyelids.

She didn't want to end the conversation or give the intention she'd rather be alone, she just needed this short period of time for herself, to regain composure and strength – and maybe believing for the tiniest moment everything was as it should be: Her sitting next to the man she loved, watching the sunrise in loving idleness.

Chase's comment about her father brought something back to her mind she'd pondered over earlier. Now that she actually could ask him, she didn't hestitate a second.
"I don't know who delivered the letter, but if it was you I want to thank you dearly for the joy it brought me. Your job is risky, I realise that, and I don't know if you always see what it's worth. But I know, and thank you again!"

With this, she might have crossed the line of distant politeness and friendliness by far. Would he get it wrong? What was he thinking of her now? Was she behaving pathetic in his eyes? What should she do, stand up and walk away?

She was pleased to see he didn't want to put an end to the conversation so soon, but the turn of the said conversation didn't please her at all. Why was it everytime they started to talk, the princess sooner or later found her way into it? The sheer presence of her name seemed to draw a hard line between them, clearly seperating the messenger from the princess' lady-in-waiting. Was he doing this on purpose, to keep her from thinking too far?

Annoyed as she was, she couldn't help but blurt out: "I'd rather have him coming home without all the fuss over Christabel, it's not doing him any justice."
Realising what she just had said, she gasped in shock, feeling her face pale and blush in turn. Between her fingers clasped over her mouth she whispered: "Forgive me, I shouldn't have said that. Oh Godess, I'm sorry!"

[Chase Cantwell]

Chase tucked his gaze into the safety of the surface of a small pebble on the frozen surface of soil. It was smooth and a glossy, pale gold color, almost if it was trying to imitate its wealthy cousin Agate. His gaze momentarily checked the tiny stone for blemishes before side glancing at Celvi from the corner of his eye.
Her face was tilted toward the sunlight as it bathed her face in an almost unearthly glow.

If he, in another time, at another place were to stumble upon her in this same position, he would swear he gazing upon the goddess herself the beauty was that great. His eyes lingered a moment past what was considered polite, noticing the delicate details that formed her face. The gentle curve of her jaw and slope of her nose. There was no denying in any way possible, how Chase admired her in ways indecent.
Putting moral and social standards aside, Chase in a heart beat would snap up the chance to be this Noble woman’s admirer. To be her protector, lover or if she wished, a simple friend. But the class of commoners he came from, stood in his path like a menacing stone wall.

As Celvi moved from her statuesque position, Chase hurriedly snapped his gaze back to the lone pebble on the ground. He silently prayed that she hadn’t noticed him staring at her façade or notice the slight color in his cheeks that had appeared after her comment. He was speechless. She complimented him! He was certain no other high class society member had even thought twice about what the messenger boy had to go through to bring them a letter from their father, son or brother. “Ah,…well your welcome” he mumbled, occupying his nervousness with fiddling with his blanket.

At the sudden outburst of her dislike over the week upon her father’s arrival. Chase’s pleasant expression melted into a pale sheet of slight unease. His posture stiffened, fearing he had lost what little informality he had with Celvi from his stupid comment. But as she clasped her hand over her mouth in regret of her words he had to offer up a comforting upturn of the corner of his lips. With little consult of his mind, he started to reach out a comforting hand but simple turned the inappropriate action into a fidget with his makeshift cloak.

A lopsided grin took form over his expression as he nonchalantly leaned toward her and softly mused, “They really do over fuss on a simple event,” his gaze shifted from Celvi’s to the surrounding area to check for any unwanted visitors, “if I had any say in the matter, her birthday would be treated like a servants, unacknowledged.” He threw in soft chuckle, as her straightened his posture away from his companion on the bench.

[Celvi Gray]

The very instant Celvi slowly opened her eyes again, she could have sworn she saw a frantic movement from the corner of her eye. As she checked on Chase, his face beared his usual nonchalant expression. Hadn't he just turned his head from her? And if yes, had he been looking at her then? Why for the Goddess sake?
Maybe he had just been surprised she was relaxing like that. A lady wasn't supposed to let her guard down at any time!
Another tiny thought nagged at her consciousness, trying very hard to get through to her in form of a little voice. What if he looked at you because he likes you? Aunt Dagmara said it herself, you've got the looks.
Angrily she pushed that thought back were it belonged. As if! With this plain dress and her hair all but messy, she wasn't going to get a second glance from any men, let alone Chase!

His visible discomfort at her praise made her uncomfortable, too. She had definitely crossed a line! In a weird urge to copy his motions she fiddled with a strand of her hair, looking everywhere but into his face. She didn't need that kind of distraction now, too!
Instead her gaze settled upon the horse rug over Chase's shoulder, and suddenly mischief broke through her unease, and she couldn't resist but say:
"Suits you, you know. Give it a week and horse rugs will be 'le dernier cri' at court!"
Her eyes sparkled mockingly, ensuring she did not say this to insult him or linger on his common background.

Still upset about her slip, Celvi almost didn't notice what Chase was about to do, until he hastily removed his hand again. Her heartbeat faltered again and she could hear its pulse inside her head. What was going on here? This had to be inside her head, only her imagination!
His words though she knew she couldn't have imagined and they convinced her to finally face him.
"You think so?" she asked, her lips a little parted in surprise. "You don't say this just to comfort me?" Or to gather enough information to backstab me afterwards…

Then an almost hysterical giggle broke through her lips. "Good Runnori, if Christabel knew what we were talking about, she'd gut and quarter us for High Treason!"
Don't lean away! everthing in her screamed as he did so again. At this moment she nearly lost it and she might have flung herself at him, hadn't the possibility of him rejecting her scared her senseless. She could feel a tension eradiate from her body with no clue how to conceal it. This wasn't something Dagmara could have taught her!

[Chase Cantwell]

Chase’s inner emotions were frantic, ricocheting against his ribs and lungs as if his internal organs were playing a vicious game of table tennis. His heart pounded sporadically as he reined in his nerves that had taken a wild escapade all the while trying to keep his nonchalant expression believable. If a crack of any other feeling he felt at the current moment where to appear on his perfected mask, he was certain what little informality in a budding friendship he had with Celvi would be smothered.

And if to add to the already uncomfortable air of the situation he had found himself in, Chase noticed that she now held a bit of unease in her expression as her gaze flickered around. Goddess he was an idiot! Had she noticed him overlooking her features in a way that was indecent and scornful coming from a servant. He wanted to slam his face in a wall over and over again, until all feelings he had for Celvi were gone. It would make life much simpler wouldn’t it? If he didn’t care for the Noblewoman, then he could continue on with his life with out falter, right?

He was brought from his thoughts as Celvi cracked a joke about how wearing horse rugs would become the next major fashion statement. He felt what tension he had in his body slowly slip as he chuckled and gave a humored nod in response. “Now, I would give my left hand in payment to see that day” he laughed mutely, shifting the rug on his shoulders into a more comfortable position.

At her next words he nodded again, letting any remnants of tensions leave his frame adding the genuine thought he had in his words. “I speak with honesty Lady Gray,” he spoke, a soft smile playing at his features ‘though if you found comfort in my words I’m glad of it’ he thought softly, not daring to vocalize the indecent sentence.

Her giggle was like a siren’s call. It caused his heart to pick up a faster beat, thumping surely he thought audibly to everyone in the country. He joined in with her laughter, his deep chuckle echoing her lighter tone. ‘perfectly matched’ he thought with a jovial grin, momentarily fancying the idea of what a joyous duet their tones created. “she would, wouldn’t she” he laughed, his gaze turned back toward Celvi briefly admiring how her eyes twinkled with her laughter. “Then have our corpses fed to the dogs as a snack on her birthday.”

Chase was enjoying this situation more than what he should have been. It was an oddity in its self, this meeting. How unplanned and unintentional it was but thoroughly enjoyed, at least from his point of view. With all his heart, he wanted this morning to never lead into day when the hustle and bustle of court life would cause them to go their separate ways. He wished to the goddess, it would last for ever! Or at least long enough to fill his aching heart of the need of her company.

[Celvi Gray]

At first Celvi feared Chase would think this kind of joke inapropriate, insolent or simply bad, and so she was highly relieved when he finally chuckled and therefore gave her some credit for it. Inwardly she shook her head at herself. She knew she was overly self-conscious with what people could be thinking of her – a clear side effect of being the niece of the Manner's Witch – but how could her affection for Chase turn this trait into something close to a neurosis? Though, thinking twice she knew the answer. She could stand if anyone, even Dagmara or the Princess were mad at her. But if Chase was ever going to be mad at her, as pathetic as it sounded, she felt she wouldn't outlive that day.

Seeing those beautiful eyes look at her with scorn, anger or even hatred – no! She would not think of such stupid things now! She wouldn't ruin this moment for herself, however much she should do it if she were sensible.
So, instead of doing the right thing in anybody else's eyes, meaning: apologizing to having bothered Chase, getting up and walking away, she choose to keep the joking going.
"Your left hand? Well, I'm sure this is not gonna make it to dernier-cri. Imagine… Lamora, land of the single-handed. Surely the Mar'volians would love it…"

His reassurance of being honest and his laugh that followed slowly afterwards let a warm shiver run down her spine. Truly, his laughter was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard. It was soft, warm and unbelievably enchanting. Her own laugh fit nicely into it and it felt good to laugh freely. A lady wasn't supposed to laugh. Chuckling was acceptable, but even that should be stiffled.
His remark though made her wrinkle her nose in slight disgust. "Ugh, you're in one bloody mood today, have you noticed? First your hand, now we two being fed to the dogs… gross!"
Then, realising something she held out a hand in defeat. "Alright, I'm one to talk, I started with the gutting and quartering. Good Goddess, that's so not how I see myself in the future, however inglorious it might be anyway."

She turned her head and watched him for a few idle seconds, thanking the Goddess for this little gift and praying she would not ask something horrible in return. Runnori was said to be volatile. She could grant your dearest wish but then take it away the next second. Celvi remembered the feeling she had woken up to. It was gone now, as if Chase really had been the one being hurt.
If that peculiar feeling had been heavensent, she might as well push her luck as long as it lasted, Celvi decided in a mood of sheer bravado.
"Chase… can I ask you a favour? I know it's unseemly, but…", she hestitated, much of her courage already gone, but once started she had to finish. "Could you please stop calling me 'Lady Gray'? I feel like being centuries old when you do that, you know", she finished with a nervous little laugh. Oh Runnori, what had she done!

((OOC: Sorry for that, if you don't like that particular ending I'll be happy to edit...))

[Chase Cantwell]

Chase laughed softly, “those Mar’volian dogs would surely get a grand kick out of fighting an army of one handed opponents, thinking they had the advantage point for having two.” That would be a site for the record books and surely the base of many more jokes if it was to happen. But doubtfully it would, just as the horse rug fashion, They were funny thoughts but far fetched reality just like how he even bothered to entertain the idea of maybe in the future to be more than just an acquaintance of Celvi’s.

There was that biting sense of reality, knowing he could never have his Celvi. No matter how hard or desperately he tried, he could never shake the thought of maybe having the noble woman like him in more than the way of an entertaining companion. And now he was claiming her! As if a commoner born boy could ever have any claims on some one of higher rank without being scoffed at or punished severely for stepping over boundaries.

The wrinkle of her nose, made him immediately regret even speaking in the example he had. Goddess strike him down, how stupid could he be! She wasn’t one of his old friends that could easily brush off his sometimes black humor, but a Lady of the Court. They were on complete opposite sides of the spectrum and he kept forgetting where boundaries lied between the two. He started to fidget with an apology when she spoke, admitting to starting the grotesque subject matter.

He was speechless, everything about her simply awed him to the point of being a living dummy. She wasn’t in his opinion, the typical lady of the court, but something much better in some many aspects of the definition. Celvi was something spectacular, invaluable, precious and deadly, like the apple that doomed Snow White into the death like slumber.

At her words, Chase nearly slapped himself with regret of every ‘Lady Grey’ he had ever muttered. He wanted to rewind the whole of the past conversation and delete every title that left his mouth. Anything that caused her discomfort or dislike he would alienate from using or saying. “Oh Yes” he almost to excitedly replied, sounding alittle forced even to himself, “Of course, Celvi” he uneasily chuckled, liking the way her name rolled off his tongue a bit more than what should be considered appropriate.

{{ooc:: Love the new vid!!}}

[Celvi Gray]

Celvi laughed again, as Chase agreed on her joke. His soft laughter seemed to trigger a variety of happy emotions that swelled inside her like a buckskin filling with water, and she felt she might burst if she didn't laugh herself. It was only comparable to an excited race on Artano's back, when she would stand up in the stirrups and yell her joy into the whipping wind. But how could she feel that way now? How could Chase make her feel this way? It was confusing!
In answer to his remark she balled her right fist over her heart in a mocking salute and bowed her head, like she had seen her father do many times, replying:
"And won't we outclass them even single-handed? Well… maybe not… after that last bashing the troops got, the odds seem fairly even."

She stopped herself and blushed again. What madness had taken over her? Now she was talking about war and battle tactics like she was a man! A lady shouldn't even think about such things, let alone form her own view!
It seemed like being with Chase brought forth more and more of her unseemliest thoughts and actions, but also the ones most true to her heart. After her father had went to war, she had never stopped to ask him all kinds of questions, and Gordon, seeing as he had no son of his own, had gladly obliged in passing on his knowledge – all the way unbeknown to his sister.
Still, she knew what Aunt Dagmara would say to this slip and it made her stomach churn with shame: Mingle with pigs and you'll adopt their habits…

As Chase didn't reply to her little scolding Celvi was sure she had offended him even so and she felt her heart sink. This had not been her intention at all, she wanted to keep the conversation going! And what was that incredulous look in his eyes? Did it mean anything at all? This time instead of feeling closer to Chase by ever second like in their last encounter, she was more and more confused by his behaviour.

Chase did accept to call her by first name though, and the first time she heard him say it sent an excited tingle all through her body. How she wished he would call her name with that particular look in his eyes she had noticed he saved for his flute. With these adoring and caring gazes like their was nothing as fragile, lovable and incomparable in the world as his instrument. But who was she to wish for someone as wonderful and at the same time as untouchable as Chase? Even if he was a noble – and sometimes she thought he deserved to be called noble even more than the most courtly gentlemen she knew – she would not deserve him.
"Remember, should we ever meet in public, you still must call me 'Lady Gray'", she reminded him with a mischievous smile, accentuating her title as if it were something nasty, "but just between us, I don't want to keep up appearances. It's far too exhausting sometimes."
And far easier to keep the dream alive…

((OOC: Thank yoouu, I had great fun doing it!))

[Chase Cantwell]

Chase’s deep chuckle rumbled in his throat at the site of what he saw, beautiful and graceful Lady Celvi saluting like an old war veteran. She surprised and delighted him with every word that left her mouth and every action her body took. She was a splendid creature of addicting substance, and she kept him craving for more. “Can you imagine that? A army of one handed men charging down the Mar’volians? I think I would die laughing if I ever saw that.”

Chase inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of sun bathed earth that was wafting on the breezes as the sun continued it daily trek upward into the sky to claim its reign. The night’s dark hold on the sky was receding with the last twinkle of the stars’ fading glory. With each passing moment, their time together was coming closer to a bittersweet end. He was overjoyed that Celvi had chanced an encounter this morning before the dawn’s light, but as this blessed meeting came to a foreseen end his euphoric emotions were dwindling. He feared the end of their conversation for the dark remnants of his nightmare lingered behind his happy mask. He wanted to believe that it was simply just a dream, but in the same sense he never wanted Celvi to leave his sight in fear of what the future may hold.

He nodded eagerly to what she reminded him. Of course, only an idiot with a death wish would call a noblewoman by her first name in public. And he wished to keep living so if another encounter like this was ever to reappear he would be sure to fully enjoy it like he was now. He wouldn’t dream of shattering their relationship even if his life was laid on the line for not letting the word slip. This small bond between them was precious to him. “Yes, La-erm Celvi” he laughed softly and shrugged, “old habits die hard I guess, so there no need to worry about me calling you Celvi in public.” He grinned foolishly, a bit embarrassed by his slip up.