From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Safrin is right - there is someone waiting outside for him. Ronin opens the door now unlocked, inhaling a shaky breath and clutching the frame for a moment, as if unsure he’ll be able to stay standing. But when his eyes open it’s to find Remi sitting on the flagstones, and Ronin swears it’s like the sun has just risen. Every part of him relaxes, and he straightens up to offer a hand out to his husband.
”Need a hand?” he asks, reaching out to grip calloused fingers, pulling the Alchemist on his feet and into Ronin’s waiting arms. He doesn’t lean in and kiss him - not yet, even though he desperately wants to - merely standing in his presence. Without trying to rush, without any hurry at all, in fact, he guides Remi’s touch beneath his shirt so he can feel the smooth skin, the lack of wounds or bruises. ”All better,” he says with a smile.
The shrine is utterly silent. It shouldn't be, but the Alchemist is under no illusion as to who has made it that way. There are plenty of reasons why Safrin should want her conversations with Ronin to go unheard; not all of which Remi would agree with. Hands folded between his bent knees, he fights to keep images of Safrin's fingers pressed between Ronin's lips (and his, between hers, if only lower down) from his mind. So as the door is opened Remi has to reach back with a hand to catch himself from falling at Ronin's feet.
Looking up into blue eyes and an offered hand, the Alchemist smiles instantly as his fingers coil through his husband's. Rising easily to stand abreast the Star with fingers still intertwined, Remi's gaze drops as if with hesitant surprise to where they are pressed against smooth and unmarked flesh. Or at least, not newly marked flesh. Wandering fingertips punctuated with the same callouses found on the Star's hand, Remi doesn't need to survey his husband's skin to know that Safrin was thorough, but he takes advantage just the same.
"I'd offer my thanks but I take it she didn't stick around to speak with me." Remi smirks lightly at this as his fingertips cascade down Ronin's side and lower back, eventually resting against his hip.
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Ronin smiles too, as Remi’s fingertips draw pictures against his skin, bringing it to life with warm touches and the sort of rough caresses that belie how gentle he knows the Alchemist can be. ”No, she didn’t,” he agrees, his amusement audible in his voice. He lets his hands roam over his husband in turn, ghosting along his upper arms, shoulders, so he can bury his fingers in soft curls. ”She was quite insistent, in fact, that I had someone waiting for me.” He sounds surprised about it too, though he’s hardly complaining.
”She’s going to do her best, with Ludo,” Ronin says quietly. ”It... isn’t a sure thing. It never was. But... I’m okay with it, I think. I was doing my best for Vanya, but she’s out there, whether it’s in the sky or with Mort. But you’re in here, with me.”
Closing his eyes, not needing to see and in fact relishing just the sensation of Ronin, the Alchemist shivers slightly as goosebumps spread like constellations out across his arms in the wake of the hunter's fingers. "I wonder if it was me, she meant." Remi replies, eyes opening just enough to look mischievous and distrusting.
Falling silent, eyes on Ronin's lips to ensure he heard every word, the Alchemist exhales. "Not a sure thing?" There's fire in his eyes then, his head jerking slightly beneath Ronin's hand as he stiffens. Biting the inside of his lip to ward off words better left unspoken, still, he can't help the subtle snarl that rises like a wave across his mouth.
"Mmm. Always." Remi agrees, but it's a distracted sort of sound. It takes a moment for his contempt of Safrin to fade before he can properly see Ronin again. "And you're here with me. Not bleeding, which is a marked improvement." He adds, rolling his eyes slightly at himself on the exhale.
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”You know, I think it just might have been,” Ronin says, his voice little more than a low rumble in the echoing tower of the lighthouse. He holds Remi through the roar of anger, a calm and steadying presence in the face of his fury, waiting for it to settle again, for the monster to step back into the shadows. He’s glowing, in fact, starlight softly pulsing out of him, and one of his hands drifts down to Remi’s cheek.
”Not bleeding. Not bruised, not punctured, not bitten or cut or burned. Just here, with you,” he confirms, brushing a thumb over the strong line of his husband’s jaw, seeming utterly not bothered by the maybe aspects of Safrin’s quest. ”The most important thing I learned from LongNight was how important the here and now is. How I was throwing away my present to try and fix my past.”
"You tend to glow when you're being cocky, did you know that?" Remi's head turns slightly into Ronin's palm, his smirk crooked as he exhales away the remaining ripples of his anger. It's probably for the best Safrin hasn't stuck around. The things he might have said, or demanded of her..
"Who is this wise man and what has he done with my husband?" Remi wonders with a slow smile, his fingers pulsing softly on Ronin's hip as if still subconsciously trying to avoid bruises or small cuts which were there only minutes ago. "And more importantly, what does he intend to do with his present, now that he's not throwing it away?"
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”I did,” Ronin’s laughter is quiet, intimate, and and he does little to stop the glow - in fact, it seems to get a little brighter. ”I also tend to glow whenever I am around you. So that doesn’t really tell us anything, does it?” He raises his eyebrows at his husband, smile crooked and knowing, and he lets the fingers buried in Remi’s curls tease through them, savouring every touch.
”Oh, there’s your regular idiot husband hiding under here,” he assures him. ”He just opened his eyes, that’s all. About time, I’d say.” As for what he’s going to do with his present? Ronin leans in, his lips brushing feather light against the corner of Remi’s jaw where it meets his ear. ”I was going to start by reminding you why you put up with me,” he whispers. ”Unless you’ve got better ideas.”
"Maybe I just make you feel cocky." Remi whispers in response, words happily laced with innuendo as his smile grows along with Ronin's brightness. These moments are so rare between them nowadays, genuine joy amidst the trauma, that noticing they are in one, Remi lets everything else fall away that he might submerge himself completely. On days where things are difficult or Ronin feels far away, it's to moments like these the Alchemist runs, and so he's careful to savour and lock away every detail of it to recreate later.
Inhaling a rather shaky breath of surprise—it has been quite a while since the pair have been properly intimate, Remi's body reminds him—he lets his eyes slip shut to heighten the feeling of Ronin's unshaven cheek against his own. On Ronin's finger, Remi's heart shudders out a faster rhythm, as he shakes his head ever so slightly. "You're the one with the newfound revelations." He whispers, the hand on Ronin's hip tightening that he might pull the Star ever nearer. "By all means. I am getting old you know, so a reminder would be helpful." Much as he tries to keep the anticipation out of his voice, it's a hard thing to accomplish with Ronin so close. But this is Safrin's shrine after all and for as heedless as the Star has proven himself to be, a voyeur he's never been.
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”Cocky is one word for it,” Ronin murmurs against the shell of Remi’s ear, the hand on his cheek drifting down the side of his neck to slip beneath the collar of his shirt, just about. He closes his eyes, needing to stand in it for just a second, to enjoy every breath of his husband, the heat of the fingers against his skin, the heartbeat fluttering through his wedding band. Already he can feel heat beginning to stir low in his belly, wanting to pull Remi more firmly against him, wanting to taste him, wanting to explore his body like he’s never seen it before.
But they are in Safrin’s shrine, and so it’s with an audible grumble of reluctance that Ronin draws back enough to brush his nose against Remi’s, blue eyes smouldering in the pulse of starlight between them. ”Your memory is terrible,” he agrees, the words a playful growl as he parts from the other man and begins to descend the steps. ”I’ll have to make sure this reminder is a good one.”
"Is there another you have in mind?" Remi wonders as his shoulders seem to stretch down and his chin up, inviting desperately the affection Ronin's fingertips taunt. Not alone in the slow broil of heat in his stomach, the Alchemist all but holds his breath as his own fingers wander towards Ronin's spine, palm curving against his back. Their bodies are close enough now that even the brush of fabric between them threatens to make Remi's knees grow weak. However as Ronin pulls away, all mischief and blue eyes, Remi finds himself in a pool of disappointment. Back against the stone wall of the lighthouse, the Alchemist pulls in a long breath through his nose, before exhaling it in a slow stream. Home is no doubt where Ronin intends to lead them, but with Felix and Vai and of course Seren, Remi wonders if privacy is what they'll find or instead some well-meant family lunch. But it isn't the first time the Alchemist has wanted the Star only to have to put other obligations first.
Pushing himself away from the wall and following Ronin down the stairs, the Alchemist clears his throat (how this is meant to cool his belly and clear his thoughts he doesn't know, but he does it anyway).
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
It already feels cold and wrong to leave Remi at the top of the steps, but they couldn’t very well stay there - Ronin has visions of some other poor worshipper wandering up to make an offering only to find more than they bargained for. None of this, of course, helps with anything, and so the hunter moves quickly towards the lighthouse entrance. When he opens the door, however, it’s to be greeted with the pitch black night and pouring rain, the hiss of it bouncing off the stones filling his ears.
A wicked sort of smile spreads across his lips, and he steps back to stand with his husband, close enough to feel the heat off him. ”Now would you look at that,” he murmurs, voice nearly lost in the sound of the rain. ”Wouldn’t it be a shame if we got soaking wet and just... headed straight up to bed? I could fly us in through the window.”
The lighthouse is so well insulted that as the door opens, Remi is almost shoved back by the bright chill of air that instantly seeps in. Almost boyish in the anguish he feels as Ronin steps back to him (the feeling of wanting so badly something—someone—he couldn't have, as was often the case when he was younger), colouring his cheeks ever so slightly.
"Well if you're going to fly us in any way, what use is there in getting wet?" The Alchemist wonders. Every nerve in his hands has within it the command to press Ronin against the wall; to demand he be checked for residual wounds before leaving Safrin's shrine. What if she missed something? Wouldn't it be better to check here? Remi can almost hear the sound of the Star's clothes dropping to the ground as he turns his head only just towards his husband. It's almost as if catching sight of Ronin would count as the green light his mind is fervently keeping on red.
"Just so long as it isn't a thundercloud you call down." Remi says, his throat as tight as his pants are becoming.
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Ronin glances sidelong at Remi as well, just about catching his husband’s gaze. He adores everything about him in that moment (as in all moments, but right now especially so); flushed and impatient, trying for easygoing, attempting disinterest. Ronin drinks it all in, feeling his own pulse hasten, and as he turns to put his back to the open door into the night, he reaches out a hand to snag Remi closer.
His arm curling around the Alchemist’s waist, his breath catches as he leans in close, already able to feel the pressing arousal between them. Then, his voice a breathy whisper, Ronin throws down the gauntlet. ”I like the rain.”
He steps back, drawing his husband with him out into the heavy downpour, the chill a delicious counter to the hot rush of heat going straight south. At last Ronin presses his lips against Remi’s, his kisses slow, savouring every taste of the other man that he can get.
The Alchemist blinks into the rain, knowing he is being noticed but too flustered to do much about it. Besides, it isn't like Ronin doesn't know the effect he is having. The effect he's always had. Jaw tense against air he dares not breathe, the Alchemist watches the Star turn his back to the storm, only to snatch Remi closer. Exhaling his surprise and dismay (once, so very long ago, he felt something quite similar when Ronin forced his hand against the guard's bleeding stomach to staunch the flow), Remi shivers in Ronin's grasp as the Star leans close.
Perhaps with the intention of the storm serving as the cold shower Remi needs, the Alchemist is led outside. However the bright juxtaposition of rain and heat has the opposite effect, instead making the Alchemist want to indulge himself the warmth that the storm is trying to deny. Lips already parted in a hasty inhale thanks to the cold, he finds himself defenceless against his husband's kiss. The moan that buzzes from Remi's lips against Ronin's is one of exquisite distress. Rather than tangling around the Star, Remi's hands are fists at his sides lest he grab hold of Ronin and refuse to let go. In his mouth his tongue is hesitant but desperate. His lips are soft and careful and will soon prove to be a terrible barrier against the moan building in the back of his throat.
"Ronin—" A warning with the voice of a whine.
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
