#so is perfectly polite and accommodating if slightly confused because the personality he built for them in his head isn't accurate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emalynde · 7 years

Text

Dwin’orrel and the Dinner Date 2

As Emalynde’s skepticism manifests, a look of startled confusion glanced across Ethrend’s face before he was able to regain his composure, "I assume it has something to do with boring, political, ‘snooze-racing.’ I could never stand to be in there. Thalandril, however, is dealing with an issue the Queen needed him on; I'm sure nothing much is wrong." His concerned gaze travels over the figure laid bare before him, laying his hand within hers in a warm gesture. "Do you remember how you got here? Anything of the last couple days?" Ethrend was never cut out for face-to-face work, more suited for being the right-hand of Thalandril: there to do clerical, investigative, or communication-related tasks that needed to be done. It was easy to read that he was attempting to inquire about something specific.

*** Emalynde offers a small smile, idly moving her fingers within Ethrend's grasp, as if toying with his hand as she spoke. It was intended to keep his attention more on the caress of her touch than her words. "Dwin'orrel booked my companionship for the evening," she explained, suddenly looking rather quizzical. "It... must be the next day," she surmises, glancing about.

She watches her former lover's second-in-command, noting that he somewhat avoided her inquiry. "Ethrend, my dear, there are strange markings the entirety of my frame," she gesticulates with her free hand, running it the length of her unclothed figure. "There is a lovely drow woman -teaching- the others healers how to treat my wounds. Funny runes decorate the area in which I reside. Three other women are hurt." She holds his gaze, "What has happened?" It was less of a question this time ((24 persuasion)).

***

It was hard for Ethrend to hold Emalynde’s gaze as he seemed slightly distracted, studying the symbols and sigils across her form with the studious focus of a tenured professor. Perhaps as an excuse to view her figure or perhaps exhibiting genuine interest in the script. Eventually, the agent snapped back his eyes to the courtesan’s, looking confused as to the fact she did not remember much, if anything. "It is in fact the next day..." Ethrend stopped mid-sentence, knowing he should not divulge any information regarding what happened. "Dwin'orrel... " He paused, thinking through his words carefully as his face slowly colored red the more he glanced almost unintentionally at the priestess' figure. "He... how do I put this..." The older elf could not keep her gaze, his eyes darting around, looking for an out now. Ethrend was kind and gentle, slightly awkward and soft-spoken; he was awful at telling lies, especially in person and to someone he cared for. Ironically, he was masterful at tailoring information for the populace, covering for the intelligence agency’s actions. He continued with his brows furrowed and his head sunken back into his shoulders slightly, looking as though he were not so sure he should be speaking--and might be reprimanded for doing so--before blurting out quickly in one single breath. "Used you to cast a drow magic ritual, drain your blood, and turn you into a spider-zombie for some horrific, evil plot that Thalandril is currently trying to deal with at the Senate meeting and you didn't hear this from me." *** Emalynde smirked ever so subtly at the fact Ethrend could not--or would not--focus on her face as the pair conversed. It was not as if he had not been privy to the contours of her figure before--and intimately so. The poor thing. He must have been too busy to visit the temple as of late--or perhaps he missed her specifically. Off-handedly, the redhead considers sating the second-in-command's obvious need simply to be accommodating; such a rendezvous would be simple and quick and of little consequence to the redhead. It was one of the gracious rites of a priestess of Hanali, completely commonplace. But there were far too many people present for Ethrend’s comfort and she was thoroughly exhausted at the moment.

A single brow lofts at Ethrend's growing discomfort, Emalynde beginning to brush her thumb back and forth across his hand reassuringly, the response almost innate given both her compassionate nature and their previous relationship. The right brow rose to meet its other half at the blurted, hurried explanation. Fretfulness overtakes her feminine features after a second or two, realizing that it was likely miraculous that she even drew breath. Her breathing picked up slightly, a touch of panic at the predicament manifesting. The hand holding Ethrend's slips free, patting and grazing her fingers against her own body and face--as if making sure that everything was where it should be.

"Am I... all right?" A slight undercurrent of fear might be noticeable--something quite rare indeed to hear within Emalynde's silken tones. She was terrified that somehow her loveliness had been impacted, which could spell an end to both careers and potentially affect her entirety livelihood. ***

Ethrends gaze would show Emalynde that he thought she appeared more than alright, shyness coloring the expression. He spoke with a curt, quick tone indicative of him being flustered, however. "Yes. Yes... you are all right, a little pale and without a couple liters of blood, but you will be back to normal in no time." The desk jockey continued to struggle with her nakedness as he spoke, attempting his version of a straight face, which was more a soured puckering than anything. This was not his specialty. Ethrend was rather unique in his sensitivity to sexuality, since the vast remainder of their race was perfectly casual and normative about such things.

"Thalandril will be by to see you once he is out of his meeting. He personally saw to the escape and rescue of all whom you see here, along with the capture of Dwin'orrel." He looked as though he had not slept the previous night, sporting marks and smudges indicative to hard work, as though he had been there with Thalandril at some point. "He was searching for you, you know. He brought down the entire agency just to find you and make sure you were ok..." Ethrend looked demurely at Emalynde for a moment before continuing. "You personally. There was no informant, no leads, nothing at all to let us know anything was awry. He came for you, and because of that, stumbled upon what was happening." He took her hand and gave her a knowing look, one that she would obviously read. It was not like Thalandril to take personal attention to any one person. ***

Relief washed over Emalynde's freckled features in a wave. She sank back into her pillow, exhaling in a gentle, drawn out manner--as if making an effort to calm herself now that her worries were assuaged. "Thank Hanali," she murmurs in soft tones, reaching a hand up to rub at her brow a moment, smoothing the stress that had built up there. It took the courtier a moment to return to her glib, coy demeanor, but her natural state resurfaced with the reassurance of Ethrend's wandering eye. She could not be that bad off if he was behaving so. She chuckles lightly, lifting her hand to flick dismissively in his direction, "My dear Ethrend, there is little need for such pomp. If you wish to look, then do so. If I was to take offense, I would have done so." She winks at him playfully, calling Thalandril's second out for his almost innocently lecherous gaze. Emalynde was well-familiar with Ethrend’s mannerisms and still nurtured a great affection for him; besides, as an elf--and especially a priestess of the goddess of romance and love--baring one’s figure was hardly something of consequence. But at the anecdote surrounding the discovery of both her person and the treasonous undertaking, Emalynde's grin melts from her curled lips. A pensive expression overtook her features, listening with a thoughtful heart. The redhead remains silent, averting her gaze for a few moments as Ethrend squeezed her hand. Because they had once been lovers and the freckled elf knew the caliber of individual Ethrend was, she entrusts him with personal knowledge. "I know not what to think. Perhaps he would be far too inconvenienced should I go missing. He would get much less work done." Her voice was soft and ever so subtly scorned. She had seen the chess board within her tidied home and found the key left to her, but was too unsure of what it foretold. ((CONTEXT: Emalynde and Thalandril always spend their weekends at Emalynde’s home--never at Thalandril’s. She’s never even been there despite their 100 years of shared company. They occasionally play chess together, Thalandril teaching her the subtle tactics of the game, and he refuses to let her win. He always knew exactly where she would move and would counter her. When Thalandril broke their physical relations off, she left a king piece on his desk before she disappeared, intimating a checkmate once she realized she was in love with him. After Chelyse left him, Thalandril re-evaluated his relationships and began to understand that he’d fallen for Chelyse because of a single night’s outing where the gentle paladin’s conduct reminded him of Emalynde. Realizing his error with the courtesan, he tried to come apologize but found her not at home--choosing to leave a chess board set up and ready for another game, a key to his apartment tucked beneath the knight he knew she would move first. At this point, she found the key--coming back to her place before heading off to Dwin’orrel’s--but knows nothing of Thalandril’s encounter with Chelyse and that the pair are effectively no more.)) A somewhat self-deprecating laugh parts lips like velvet, Emalynde reaching back to tuck a lock of crimson behind her ear--one of her nervous habits. "He loves Chelyse. And he should." The redhead's words spoke one notion, while her body language and eyes held quite another story. Very, very few saw her so.

#Dwin'orrel and the Dinner Date #Emalynde Ilayne Inara #Thalandril Van'drys #Ethrend Lath'aenir #rp #Ema writes stuff #elf #dungeonsanddragons #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and dating #writing #because I really only write about elves #short story #story #storytelling

3 notes · View notes