Selene Alexandra

Selene suspected what she'd scratched was merely the surface. The woman seemed too concerned with her and her status, red flag. Yes, more severe things were likely happening inside this organization and Selene was now involved—fuck. “Well, your books are being kept? Taxes paid? Employees compensated?” Playing niave was the way she would go.

“You pair up people who will put on a bloody good show, audience reaction and all that.” Selene laughed at the notion of fighting another dignitary in the ring, “in my days as a soldier I would have jumped at the chance. I do know what can happen in a fighting ring and am not interested in fighting my fellow dignitaries. It would not reflect well on my image. As being here now is not.” Selene’s smile didn't fade. She was aware of the reputation of it, if it were up to her, she wouldn't give a shit. But Crirtha wanted laws and control so there would likely need to be adjustments.

Evelyn had to resist the instinctual reaction of making her face sharp, fighting the muscles in her cheeks and lips at going tense, forcing herself to remain light. She desired to tell the woman it was none of her business but knew it would only draw unwanted attention, so instead she allowed a smile to pull onto her lips and gave a nod. "Wouldn't be very profitable if we didn't," was her answer.

Did fate have a twisted sense of humour or had Maeve simply lived long enough to begin experiencing the truly ridiculous? The feeling that they had somehow leapt back in time to the beginning was beginning to feel insanely surreal. Selene had barely changed physically in the past three decades, and she spoke as passionately about them as she had all those years ago... it seemed ludicrous, too good to be true. Maeve couldn't help but smile and lean closer, drunk on nostalgia, their fantastical luck, Selene's proximity, the smell of her, the sight of her!

The flirtatious remark brought a wolfish grin to Maeve's freckled chops and she released her low, warm chuckle. It was the kind of light laughter, only a lover could have recognised.

"Well, you would know" she acknowledged coquettishly ... well, as coquettishly as a woman in leather armour could pull off. It felt easier to speak now, to joke... so easy to slip into old ways.

It was only when Maeve's eyes fell to her hands, reluctantly withdrawing from Selene's vest, that she saw it... the lines on her hands, the feint scars from decades of hard manual labour and battle, the rough edges to her fingertips; the visual passage of time.

Like a cold shower of rain on a heady summer day, reality set in. Things had changed, time had moved on, and so had Maeve, hadn't she? Wasn't she supposed to have?

Maeve looked back at the siren, suddenly captured by a fear that made no sense to her, and that fear was palpable in her energy. She wanted to cling to Selene, sequester away inside their own time capsule, and she also suddenly needed to run. The urge to shift and hunt, and avoid all human emotions was strong.

The wolf wiped her brow, leaving a smear of dirt across her forehead. There was a tremble in her voice when she next spoke, but she straightened her back, placing her hands on her thighs, and not on Selene.

"When can I see you again?"

Selene instantly missed her touch and the proximity of her wolf as Mauve sat straighter and placed her hands on her thighs. The Siren noted the scars flecked across those hands—years apart and an unfamiliar series of wounds. Selene wanted to cover those wounds in kisses to make up for her absent years. She reached for her hand, gently caressing it as she examined the passage of time. "Your hands are different, changed, and flecked with scars. 300 years of scars. Where are they from?" Selene gently rubbed her thumbs over her hands.

"I have many scars you have not seen, but the one that nearly killed me is right here, the hole where you should have remained." Selene dropped one of Mauve's hands to point to her heart, "You can see me whenever you wish, wherever you want to, as many times as you wish. "

“The only reason I did not choose you 300 years ago was because of my mother and her lethal vengeance. I betrayed you out of fear. It was better to sacrifice happiness than to watch her remove you by force.” Selene plopped back down against a nearby tree, adjusting the buckles of her brace rather than meet Maeve’s gaze but she continued to speak, “Time doesn't heal shit. I'm still broken. Taking this position was supposed to get me out of Crirtha, serving my kingdom was my way to sink myself into anything to forget how much I missed…. I love my home and I want to make my father proud but if I had it to do over I would have told my mother to fuck off, it was naive to think I could do both. The older I get the more I regret walking away from you. No lover since has filled the void and I suspect none will, not that I would even let them try.”

As Selene spoke her emerald eyes blazed with earnest and Maeve was met with a tidal wave of nostalgia for the other woman's passion and sincerity. Though individuals outside of Destarin found the wolf to be rather coarse and blunt, she considered herself to be of a much more mellow flavour of Destarin resident. She was not so forthcoming with the truth, preferring to store away her opinions and findings, only utilising them when she felt it would benefit her. Even with her family and friends, Maeve was a private person, preferring to keep her emotions to herself. And here was Selene, as bold as she ever was, as brave as Maeve could never be, simply laying it out on the line.

Several waves of shock and understanding began to course through Maeve as she listened to the siren. What had Selene's family done to ensure the siren's daily loyalty? What had Selene had to do to maintain the peace and keep her family from hunting Maeve's? Memories of her Selene's family were not ones she wanted to revisit. Not that she had actually interacted with Selene's family much. Beyond one heated threat delivered to her by Selene's mother, Maeve knew of them only through what Selene had told her. It was enough however, to make the wolf's stomach knot with anxiety.

Without thinking, simply feeling, Maeve instinctually moved forwards and dropped a knee to kneel beside her beloved siren. She didn't speak, she was still taking her time to process, as was typical of the blonde who chose her words carefully.

"Selene" she spoke the name as though the precious word tumbling from her lips required protection and reverence. Her natural husky, low tone was inviting and as both the women's scents converged, Maeve could feel a heady rush. Her lips began to tingle, her cheeks remained flushed, and she wasted no time in inhaling the signature scent of teakwood. An invisible bubble seemed to swallow the pair up and for a moment, Maeve let it. She lost herself when she was with Selene, she always had.

"You're not broken, how could you be?" she asked the question, as deft fingers reached for the brace buckles and made fast work of adjusting them to fit Selene as best as they could. Later that evening, Maeve's wandering mind would find itself drawn to the design of Selene's vest, it's main objective to be to assist the broken wing, and she would begin to mentally craft a new piece of apparel, one that she could not help but imagine leaving the print design of a wolf in... "Not the day you first crashed, not now. It sounds to me like you spent a lot of time fixing other people's problems. It also sounds exhausting?"

Maeve simply was not a woman of many words, though she felt and comprehended a great deal, enunciating those experiences outload or even internally was an oversight. As such, now, when she was trying to find the right words... to thank Selene, to admonish her, to lift her up, Maeve simply couldn't, frustratingly so.

The heady mixture of Selene's fresh, sandalwood scent, the vibrant green of her eyes, the plumpness of her lips, the mere sound of her breathing was beginning to overwhelm the wolf. She was still making fast work of adjusting the vest at every opportunity, if only to remain close to her childhood love. Maeve's skin was naturally a few degrees higher than a human for example, but while she revelled in the close proximity to Selene, she began to radiate more heat as she grew... excited.

Finally, when Maeve swallowed heart and forced herself to meet Selene's gaze, her hazel eyes were sparkling and her breathing was a little laboured. Her breath was hot, and smelled like the spearmint she had been chewing on throughout her hunt. Her golden skin was flushed, and the smell of crushed honeysuckle and sweat lingered in her wild blonde hair.

Selene's vulnerability made Maeve feel a little safer, which combined with close proximity apparently left the wolf a little dizzy with a reawakened lust.

"I want to -" she whispered, a little gruffness to her voice. "I don't want to not see you again either" the confession fell from Maeve's lips without resistance. She wasn't thinking straight, she was simply saying exactly the truth.

“If I exhaust myself it was to tire my mind out of remembering the love I sacrificed to keep peace.” She had been anything but at peace for the last 300 years, “I want to see you again and I don't give a fuck who sees me with you.” The relief that washed over her at the realization of Maeve wanting to see her again was palpable. She didn't deserve that mercy, but as the blonde worked over her buckles, she sighed and let the fear dissolve.

“I think you are better at taking it off rather than putting it on.” Selene’s mischief was evident when the stoic worry faded. She had room to spare for the awnry nature of her youth. She smiled at Maeve, eyes raking over her features to her hands fastening the buckles in various locations. Her body recalled the memories of her touch—skin-to-skin. Selene groaned out loud for the sake of that bliss. Why had she let her go? Why? The siren should have been selfish for once in her damned life, “I wanted to stay with you. I wanted it so badly, but my happiness was not worth the strife it would have caused your family, but the hardest part was knowing you'd learn to hate me.”

And Selene’s….

"They will face my wrath or meet hands with one of my men," she assured. For the most part, the place was almost self-regulated. Regulars could almost always be counted on to keep each other in line as well as errant strangers. It was all relative, of course, the place was still rowdy and loud. "No warrior shit necessary."

This tavern was bustling and all seemed in good spirits. The laws were not apparently being broken and Veda seemed ademant about keeping order within the bar. “I am not here as an emissary tonight, just wanting to drink and be merry until my work draws me back in.”

"Well, so you are," he said with a polite nod that he hoped counteracted the curious stare. Sir Phonix Ironfeathers clicked his beak in far more friendly of a way than he did with most. Like really did seem to recognize like.

Nolan's focus was quickly pulled to the matter of business, his eyes falling to look at the brace she held, quickly identifying the flaws by sight.

"May I?" He asked before reaching to carefully take the brace, looking it over for another moment before he looked back up. "This is excellent craftsmanship. I should not have a problem fixing this. It will take me a day or so, and you will also have to come back in for me to fit it properly once it is fixed."

"It would be smart to see a healer," he nodded in agreement. "I can ensure it is fixed and fits you comfortably, but a healer should be able to see if it needs any adjustment for proper support."

“I appreciate your commitment to a quick turnaround. Two days, you say? I will have to remain fully planted on the ground until then I suppose.” Selene smiled as she offered a piece of dried meat to the bird for a treat, “whats its name?”

Selene breathed deeply trying to steady the racing of her heart. It was Maeve’s love wrapped around her heart like a lead weight that made her cage. Like rusted, cast iron bars fixed in time as her heart grew around it and fused to the pain.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again outside of my dreams. Now that you are here, everything I dreamed I might say to you is lost.” It was then that Selene slipped her hand away gently from Maeve. She’d let the lingering contact cripple her restraint too much. If Maeve wanted to rekindle this, she’d have to make it damn well known that she wanted that. Selene would not bring herself to beg. Not because of pride, but the guilt that might spur Maeve to accept something she didn’t want.

The inclination to fall into a heap over Selene was not something the wolf had succumbed to in some time. No matter the shock, the slight tremble in her lips, Maeve did not fall apart. She did not snatch Selene's hand back when the dark beauty dropped it, though she stepped forward as though she might. She did not erupt with questions about Selene's life since their separation, her reasons for staying away all these years. Maeve refused to ask why the siren dropped her hand, because if Maeve could cling to anything during heartbreak, it was pride.

Instead, Maeve jutted her chin out and lifted damp, hazel eyes to the sky and tried to compose herself. She inhaled deeply, indulging in Selene's signature scent... and she took a step backwards. Physically placing more space between herself and the woman who inspired the burning tears Maeve could feel brewing in the back of her throat.

"You know... you are not obliged-" she faltered then. She could have sworn with regret, red tinging her cheeks but she shook her head and said in a hoarse, strained voice. "You don't need to say anything... you aren't obligated to make amends here."

When the wolf dragged her gaze back to the eyes that used to mesmerise her, Maeve's heart seemed to give one, heavy, dramatic thud. Despite the creeping humiliation, the age old wounds that still bled, Maeve straightened her shoulders and continued.

“The only reason I did not choose you 300 years ago was because of my mother and her lethal vengeance. I betrayed you out of fear. It was better to sacrifice happiness than to watch her remove you by force.” Selene plopped back down against a nearby tree, adjusting the buckles of her brace rather than meet Maeve’s gaze but she continued to speak, “Time doesn't heal shit. I'm still broken. Taking this position was supposed to get me out of Crirtha, serving my kingdom was my way to sink myself into anything to forget how much I missed…. I love my home and I want to make my father proud but if I had it to do over I would have told my mother to fuck off, it was naive to think I could do both. The older I get the more I regret walking away from you. No lover since has filled the void and I suspect none will, not that I would even let them try.”

“I do have questions of monetary nature, but the seedy shit; fighting, pleasure house, gambling. I truthfully do not give a fuck. A fool looks at the world in shades of pink and velvet happiness, I know what people can and will do. Outlets are a necessity. What happens in this establishment happens under a capable staff.” Selene smiled, “I’m not going to snitch, better they root and rut under careful watch spending coin that helps the economy than spreading violence and filth to those who don’t ask for it, eh?”

The vulgarity of the language used by the emissary who had apparently once been a soldier did not cause much of a reaction from Evelyn externally, more foul and idiot language was used by imps but it did feel curious. "You've been enjoying the peformances how long exactly?" Evelyn asked since the woman spoke as if she knew the place through and through. Evelyn didn't believe she did because it certainly wasn't true. Deaths within the ring just a starter, blackmailing people who came in to cheat on their partners romantically or financially, the guild breaking the bones of those who did not pay what they owed the house, selling substances that were deadly when overused. Which is what made it curious, how assured she was in her assessment, oddly confident that it was an upstanding location. She was either naive to what the place was, or she was trying to lull her into a sense of security. The comment she wouldn't 'snitch' lead to the latter. She'd had rats within her organisation before but none had even worked this hard.

"The economy, yes, it is important that Destarin's wealth as a town flourishes," she responded with a slow nod, how the conclusion was made any of the money disseminated so was not something Evelyn could understand but it was the easiest thing the woman said not to audibly laugh at the falsehood of since she did spend her money around the town, she just typically found a way to make sure it ended up back in her pocket.

Selene suspected what she'd scratched was merely the surface. The woman seemed too concerned with her and her status, red flag. Yes, more severe things were likely happening inside this organization and Selene was now involved—fuck. “Well, your books are being kept? Taxes paid? Employees compensated?” Playing niave was the way she would go.

“You pair up people who will put on a bloody good show, audience reaction and all that.” Selene laughed at the notion of fighting another dignitary in the ring, “in my days as a soldier I would have jumped at the chance. I do know what can happen in a fighting ring and am not interested in fighting my fellow dignitaries. It would not reflect well on my image. As being here now is not.” Selene’s smile didn't fade. She was aware of the reputation of it, if it were up to her, she wouldn't give a shit. But Crirtha wanted laws and control so there would likely need to be adjustments.

And Selene’s….

The hushed whispered about an emissary lurking were not abnormal when she entered the seedier areas of town. Selene knew there would soon be someone of importance seeking an audience. It was how these things worked. When the woman came it was obvious she was an invested party to the establishment.

So, based on the crude response of the emissary, just as quickly as Eve had taken her seat the woman stood. It was just as well since it seemed the woman did not intend to interact with her, the question she had asked on the fight ignored.

“I do have questions of monetary nature, but the seedy shit; fighting, pleasure house, gambling. I truthfully do not give a fuck. A fool looks at the world in shades of pink and velvet happiness, I know what people can and will do. Outlets are a necessity. What happens in this establishment happens under a capable staff.” Selene smiled, “I’m not going to snitch, better they root and rut under careful watch spending coin that helps the economy than spreading violence and filth to those who don’t ask for it, eh?”

"Just a stall, of course." Selene marked down a few notes as she spoke. Unfortunately, my wing has never ceased giving me problems." The last they had met, Selen was carrying wounded and meeting up with the healers led by this good-hearted woman.

"My father was an emissary before his death. I thought I would better serve as a soldier, but I have been politically groomed since birth. I may visit your stall and have you look into my future. I am looking forward to the festival. The preparations are quite tedious, though. "

Tajhana nodded, quiet as the woman wrote down a few notes. "I will be excited to see what comes from the donations of the kingdoms, I know at least some townsfolk will use the funds accordingly," she mused.

With slow nods she listened, not originally from the northern court she did not know all of it's dignitaries, especially those from when she was merely a child. "Everyone has a prosperous direction they are able to find their way to," she assured her of her future. "This is true, I have seen people working almost since the announcement to get everything made, especially the strawberry field, but it will be beautiful." Until the wolves and other species with the moon as their master tore through it all the very evening of the event. "I suspect it is not what you intended to walk into?"

She hadn’t cared if the citizens who asked for money were cons. Surely the money would still find its way into the economic pool of Destarin. Wasn’t that the point? Funding and developing a hub for keeping peace? Selene reckoned that Crirtha would let her know what the plans were to benefit her home.

Selene tilted her head as she contemplated how willing she was to be a server for the night. Though, it could give her face and an edge in her duties. “I can help you maintain the crowd and keep the drinks flowing. Throw in a few free drinks and we can be even. I come highly recommended.”

Vee turned to pour the emissary a tankard of ale as she considered the offer. One corner of her mouth pulled up into a half-grin, she pushed the cup towards the siren. "Does it look like I need help with crowd control?" she teased, resting her chin in her palm as she continued to deliberate on the offer. In truth, sometimes she did need help with crowd control when things went from rowdy to riotous - but that was when her regulars stepped in to keep the violence to a minimum. That wouldn't protect Selene from potentially being groped, however. "Any experience in being a wench?" Veda wanted to know if the woman knew what she was potentially getting into with her offer.

“Did your family fear Crirtha’s retaliation?” Selene gathered that Maeve still hadn’t understood why. The Siren wasn’t sure if she wanted her to know the sacrifice was always for her and her family. If she stayed in Crirtha, in the grace of her family, she’d know if plans arose to target them. She could deter them, “You’re mother had nothing to fear. I…” No, she wouldn’t say why. Maeve wouldn’t believe or trust it now. She’d shared enough of her secrets. If she hadn’t put it together yet, she wouldn’t believe it from the lips of the lover who betrayed her. “I would not have let it happen.” There was more to it, yes, their relationship infuriated the Siren’s mother, “Or was the fear from war in general and your father….” Selene knew her father’s perceived sins—betrayal. Selene’s father had known him, “ Did you fight?”

Selene lifted her hand, reached out toward her, but thought better of it. She should not press. Her eyes would betray the restraint. They bore into Maeve’s with the an unspoken language full of love—fuck.

“They made me emissary after the war. I have been looking for reasons to be away from Crirtha ever since.”

Maeve grimaced, instantly conscious that she no doubt inspired guilt in Selene, thrusting the responsibility of Maeve's mothers complex post traumatic stress entirely on the Sirens shoulders. This was neither fair nor accurate and the blonde wanted to say as much, but when she opened her mouth, her lips merely hung suspended in silence. Her mind whirled as slowly, she pressed her full lips together. Maeve knew she was staring at Selene and that she should stop, but she simply was powerless. She had lived several lifetimes with only the memory of the woman, and now, finally Selene was there, before her eyes, the real deal, and she looked... just as lovely as Maeve remembered her.

"It wasn't like that," she finally managed to say. "Mother was afraid of everything. I... I trusted you to do everything you could to keep my family safe. You always did, but for my mother - I think it was the straw that broke the camels back, our... relationship being discovered. If it hadn't been us it would have been something else, i promise you"

Maeve had averted her gaze while she spoke, but again, she returned it. Selene simply looked unchanged. Wiser in the eyes, sure, but the youthful plumpness in her cheeks was still there, no lines beneath her eyes, her lips were full and truly devour able. Maeve remembered tasting those lips, caressing that soft skin, knotting her fingers in Selene's hair. The wolf was torn between awe and insecurity.

Maeve was not a vain woman, she was level headed and fairly matter of fact. As such, she considered herself to be conventionally attractive but did not think beyond that. However, when she looked at Selene, she couldn't help but marvel. Maeve felt like a teenager again, transfixed by Selenes beauty. With that came an out of character self consciousness.

Suddenly the scars on Maeve's skin, the untamed golden hair that scattered her legs and arms, the tangled head of hair, all aspects she usually did not notice... seemed suddenly to stand out in the ugliest ways.

The wolfs ageing was slow, depreciated by frequent transformations, and as such the 316 year old only looked to be in her mid thirties. However, she did bare scars from battle and frequent scraps and tumbles. She took care of her body in terms of diet, exercise and various hazardous self stitch jobs, but the daily comb torn through her hair seemed the most frivolous to the wolf. Something she did purely out of habit and to appease her father. Maeve's hands were also calloused from work and she knew her feet bore the marks of living life near constantly barefoot.

It was not like Maeve to compare herself to others, but she did wish that she looked better. Of course, Maeve had anticipated bumping into her ex at some point. The world was only so large, and it had an appetite for coincidences. She had imagined it a thousand times. Barefoot and covered in dirt was not the ideal first re impression. Still, as the blonde appraised the brunette, it of course occurred to her that Selene was no doubt feeling similarly vulnerable, given tgag she had literally crashed to the ground and was injured. So, with that, Maeve gave herself a mental scolding and tried to focus on what was important and ignore the over excited mix of emotions.

"Yes" Maeve answered, not going into detail, because she had come to terms with the hell that was war in her own way. If Maeve was honest with herself, truly honest... she was afraid that she was made for war. The fear of being more suited to violence and death, than love and beauty weighed deeply on the armourer.

"So.. you did it?" Maeve asked, a casual tone poorly disguising the burning curiosity "Are you free now?". As a young girl, Maeve had almost believed the idea that if Selene could just do what was required for long enough she would earn her freedom. Stories from other ex royals suggested otherwise, but for a moment Maeve allowed herself to hope.

Selene breathed deeply trying to steady the racing of her heart. It was Maeve’s love wrapped around her heart like a lead weight that made her cage. Like rusted, cast iron bars fixed in time as her heart grew around it and fused to the pain.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again outside of my dreams. Now that you are here, everything I dreamed I might say to you is lost.” It was then that Selene slipped her hand away gently from Maeve. She’d let the lingering contact cripple her restraint too much. If Maeve wanted to rekindle this, she’d have to make it damn well known that she wanted that. Selene would not bring herself to beg. Not because of pride, but the guilt that might spur Maeve to accept something she didn’t want.

So caught up in his work, Nolan likely wouldn't have heard the bell above the door jingling to notify him that a customer had entered. The loud squawk that rang through the shop, however, was plenty to pull his focus, leaving him with a scowl.

"Do not touch the bird, he bites," Nolan called out as he shoved his stool back as he stood. The shop wasn't terribly big, but over the years Nolan had managed to collect many things that left it cluttered and full. Parts and old objects filled boxes and shelves because he never really knew when something could come in handy in his line of work, and fixed objects for sale filled the rest of the spaces.

Nolan wiped his hands on an old rag as he stepped out from the back area where he did the majority of his work, offering a nod in greeting to the woman who'd entered his store.

"Quiet you." He snapped at the bird who was still clicking his beak and ruffling his feathers at the woman. "Do not mind him, he just likes attention. Is there something I can help repair for you today, ma'am?"

Evelyn's gaze had been on the fights, eager to observe each spill of blood dripping down the lips of those within the tall cages, designed to accommodate wings and those creatures that might be able to climb the cage itself. Of course, this fight was not so extrodinary, two werewolves going at one another, half shifted they clawed and bit at one another. Presently one starting to bleed heavily from a bite upon his bicep, much to Evelyn's pleasure.

She was smirking over this when the whispers of one of her guild member's came to her ear. An emissary had stepped into the establishment earlier and had made their way to the cages. There was no hiding it now, not when Evelyn's eyes sought the audience and caught the dignitary quickly. She had already seen the bloodshed, seen the vulgarities of the fight and had likely passed other's on her way in. Nothing lacked consent, all who came to the club were doing things of desire, but that didn't mean that they'd have been allowed in most of the kingdoms.

Evelyn stood from her own chair, in her own booth and made her way through the crowd, a series of guild members following her, staying close by, while other's watched from a distance. She would not be left unseen but she couldn't very well speak with the woman with a guard on either side.

"May I sit with you?" Evelyn asked, to be polite but not waiting for the response as she took her place beside the emissary, close to the viewing of the fight that had, in the few moments it had taken for her to walk over, been concluded, the werewolf who had been bleeding out getting carried off to have someone attend to his wounds. "Did you enjoy the fight?" she asked, hoping the gauge the woman's opinion before choosing how she would interact with her.

The hushed whispered about an emissary lurking were not abnormal when she entered the seedier areas of town. Selene knew there would soon be someone of importance seeking an audience. It was how these things worked. When the woman came it was obvious she was an invested party to the establishment.

It had been three hundred years since they parted ways. Thousands of days had been spent, copious hours exhausted and in that time Maeve had had to move with the times. She had had to change from a warrior to an armourer, and a girl to a woman. Maeve adapted as people became more preoccupied with a philanderers and bar brawls than Gods and old stories. Or, so Maeve thought she had adapted and grown, but then a winged angel crashed through the trees and shone a light on the very real, and unattended puncture to her heart, her sense of trust and hope.

From the healthy glow in her cheeks and the capable brace Selene wore, Maeve could surmise the brunette had thrived, at least in the majority. She looked barely changed, and yet unrecognisable. She looked grown, a long way away from the teen heart throb Maeve had melted for. Having said that, she felt like a time capsule, dropped in the wolf's lap. The pain of their separation looked as fresh in her anguish, as it was the day it occurred.

Maeve did not answer Selene's questions about their thriving. What could she possibly say? In truth Maeve had had a good life, stable and consistent, well as much as one could hope for given the general chaos of being a resident of Destarin. She had had lovers, over the years, she had sampled various species, races, sexes. Each lover, each kiss had been wonderful, satisfying and a thrilling excursion to remember, but Maeve knew that she had never found the depth of connection, she had felt with Selene. They had moved in synchronisation when they fought and danced, each kiss had been perfectly sweet and every conversation brought with them a fresh perspective or a wry entertainment.

In the height of heartbreak, Maeve clung to to suspicion that everyone's first love is remembered only through rose coloured spectacles. It was only the exuberance and theatricality of youth that kept her up at night aching for the siren's embrace. Surely?!

Unable to keep her eyes from the siren, Maeve watched her lips form the words, for she was reluctant to look back into Selene's striking eyes.

"No" Maeve said hoarsely, shaking her head slowly "Not at all". A reunion after all these lifetimes should have merited some truth from Maeve, instead however she doubled down on her lies. "Destarin is a big enough town for the two of us" it was a fairly standard response. It could read as humourful, perhaps a little sardonic, but the look if disbelief on Maeve's face was telling. There was not a town in the world, big enough for the two women.

The blonde wolf was swift to stand alongside Selene, keeping her body close enough to catch the siren should she fall, but careful not to brush against one another. The flush in her cheeks were a subtle indication of the desire she felt, but Maeve maintained a stoic expression, something she usually did with strangers she did not trust.

"I live here Selene" Maeve explained, taking her time to enjoy the feeling of Selene's name on her tongue. It felt good, after all this time. "My mother let us settle down in one spot" Maeve's mother had become a very paranoid wolf, hardly surprising giving she had been raised by the fires of battle. The mother of four had kept her pack of sirens and wolves safe and secluded by keeping them on a continual "camping tour" which bluntly translated to make shift homes out of tents, and endless weeks and months walking, hunting, staying close to nature and far from "civilised" society. "My family finally settled on a home in Destarin. It was the only place my mother felt safe raising a family. Many former royals and noblemen and women settle here, it is something akin to hiding in plain sight" as the blonde explained, she glanced from her filthy feet, to the brunette's side profile. She couldn't help staring, and was not self conscious enough to try to hide it.

“Did your family fear Crirtha’s retaliation?” Selene gathered that Maeve still hadn’t understood why. The Siren wasn’t sure if she wanted her to know the sacrifice was always for her and her family. If she stayed in Crirtha, in the grace of her family, she’d know if plans arose to target them. She could deter them, “You’re mother had nothing to fear. I…” No, she wouldn’t say why. Maeve wouldn’t believe or trust it now. She’d shared enough of her secrets. If she hadn’t put it together yet, she wouldn’t believe it from the lips of the lover who betrayed her. “I would not have let it happen.” There was more to it, yes, their relationship infuriated the Siren’s mother, “Or was the fear from war in general and your father….” Selene knew her father’s perceived sins—betrayal. Selene’s father had known him, “ Did you fight?”

Selene lifted her hand, reached out toward her, but thought better of it. She should not press. Her eyes would betray the restraint. They bore into Maeve’s with the an unspoken language full of love—fuck.

“They made me emissary after the war. I have been looking for reasons to be away from Crirtha ever since.”

@windbeneathmywings:

The Tavern in the Withermore District was quite an establishment. On this night, it reminded Selene of a war camp after a victory: loud, rowdy, and sweaty. She’d been drenched in beer thrice by the time the server had rounded the tables, but the server didn’t stop to take her order. The poor thing looked to be doing the duties of three people. Selene admired the drive and determination. The sudden shout as she rounded a table startled the Siren initially. She quickly began to call out her patron's destructive behaviors with authority. Selene smiled more broadly as she finally approached her at the bar. “What look? It is already reminiscent of a victorious war camp here.” Selene smirked. The comment was playfully followed: "You may certainly tell me what to do anytime you like. I noticed I am more hungry than thirsty. Perhaps you have steak!”

.

"With a lot less raping and pillaging and a lot more coin changing hands," the owner offered with something of a smirk. The bar was rowdy, barely on the edge of her control. Veda would have it no other way. She might not have had any proper security, but she did have a few regulars she could count on to keep the energy from growing foul.

"No steak, I'm afraid," Vee replied to the stranger with one brow cocked along with one side of her mouth. Even as she spoke she remained busy, pouring a few more mugs of ale. Once she realized the aroma of alcohol was more potent around Selene, she even went so far as to toss her a towel. "We've got stew, meat pies, and I know Cookie is working on some bread. So long as you have the coin, I'll be happy to tell you to eat as much as you'd like." A playful little wink followed her words. While the human's interest was in men, she had no issues with flirting with the fairer sex. Duarte used to bemoan his looks and inability to utilize them in the same way Veda did.

Selene tilted her head as she contemplated how willing she was to be a server for the night. Though, it could give her face and an edge in her duties. “I can help you maintain the crowd and keep the drinks flowing. Throw in a few free drinks and we can be even. I come highly recommended.”