[He looks so calm, so normal, and perhaps... that is something she should have expected. He claimed godhood, years of experience beyond her own, both in life and in... beds. (She certainly hadn't had any complaints for that experience last night.)
Whereas she... her flighty gaze flits between his face, his cloak thrown over the chair in the room, and her robe on the floor, shuddering slightly where he touches her bare hip, setting off a twitch in her knee and a press of her thighs she couldn't account for.]
[If anything his smile only grows fonder as she appears to not know what to do with herself. In contrast he remains still. He doesn't want to spook her out of his bed already.]
[He's glad. She's... glad, that he is, but there's still a small, welling panic in her chest she can't account for, a sense of lingering wrongness in the body she had come to him in, but she'd never have worked up the courage as a jinba, still too scarred by her experiences with relations between her kind and man, so she cannot do a thing for it, her wavering gaze falling her legs, and where they yet tangle with his.
But the change brings to mind a drunken memory, a story he had told her once, of his brother and a stallion, and he'd said it merely words, she thinks, but the recollection is enough to frighten her, blanching slightly.]
I am in season, what if-
[Why hadn't she thought of this earlier, how foolish, how stupid to give in to instinct and loneliness and not think of everything-]
What if I am stuck like this, like that tale you told me-
[Apparently the idea of being stuck in a human body scares her more than actually being pregnant, but???]
[The concern crossing her face has him worried a moment- until she reveals what's on her mind.
His shoulders relax and he pushes himself up to sit beside her, hand sliding further around her waist.] A child will only take off I wish it to. There's no danger of you getting stuck with half the number of legs you need.
[Only if he wishes? That sort of line would sound mad coming from anyone one else, but... if she accepts that he is as a god in his world... then it does not sound so far fetched, and it's enough to make her breath shudder out in relief, curling inward slightly as a way to minimize her nakedness, fiddling anxiously with the ring on her finger that had enabled the transformation in the first place. Of course- If she did the math... she still had time. That was all, it just hadn't been an entire day yet, she wasn't stuck, she needn't rip it off just to make sure, no matter how she wanted to-]
Good...
[She should go. She should leave- but his hand is around her waist, and she doesn't know what to do with that, unwilling to treat him poorly after how he had treated her... but afraid to truly examine his face, for fear of finding something different there than she had a day before.]
Hayame- [The way she curls in on herself and twists the ring on her finger keeps him from leaning in closer. She's not completely at her ease and Odinson isn't sure what he can do to help.]
You needn't stay. [He'd like her to stay, he can envision a morning spent pleasantly together... but.] You owe me nothing.
[She owed him much, she is quite sure. Yet beyond that, there is no denying that a part of her does want to flee, does want to pull that ring off her finger more than anything else- also, definitely wants her robe back on (or at least to wrap the sheet). But more than that, in... Asgardia, in... places that weren't her world-]
Staying is... done?
[Her tone betrays that she honestly had considered leaving the more proper thing to do, the more normal thing, less shameful thing- what a partner would prefer from a... whatever this was now. Clandestine lover? One night of passion? And he says it like it's normal to needn't, in a way that finally brings her eyes back to him, forces herself to confront another fear, to look at him and search his face for anything different, even as her fingers continue to tug anxiously at the ring.]
[He meets her eyes, and he smiles that she'd look at him again. If there's anything different there it's a softness, an ease in him that hasn't been there in all the months he's been with ALASTAIR. It turns out he'd missed being intimate; holding and being held.]
If we've nothing else to do, no other engagements to keep us. [Knowing a little about Japanese culture, he can understand why she'd ask.]
We might talk of battle, and strategy, or history... [His tone and look indicate that he actually means they could talk about none of those things. Indeed, the way he ghosts his fingers over her side is very deliberate, intended to tease.]
[... he looks at her mostly the same. Even though she'd not quite thought him the type, the fear had been there despite- after a lifetime of shunning males for what they represented to her and the fate she would do anything to avoid, there had been a part of her that was sure that sex would change everything. Her entire life. How whatever partner she took saw her, made lesser in their eyes.
But here she is, and here he is, and the only thing that has changed seems to be her body.
There is an inexplicable moment, looking at him, where she feels like she might cry. But she swallows it harshly, bites her lip and forces herself to let go of the ring on her finger, to remember her two legs, and why she'd come here that way. (Admittedly, hard to forget, when she aches so- but not unpleasantly.) To try and not ruin this, with her words and stumbles.
To look to the door, and the world awaiting outside of it that she would much rather forget for as long as possible. So-]
[She slowly, carefully, sinks back down to the mattress from her anxious half-flee curl, back to the circle of warmth that had lulled her to sleep despite her original intent to be gone before he woke. If he were offering what she had craved, if he still wanted it himself, and they were the only ones who knew...
She can still blush for such insinuations as that, despite what they've done, frowning almost comically.]
[She looks as though she might flee, and Odinson does not know what to do except wait for her to come to a decision. His hand stills, to be less of an influence on her.
But she chooses to stay.
He draws her to him as she settles on the mattress, wholly unconcerned about their nudity.] If you would deign to tell me, I'd be glad to hear.
[...he may be attempting to distract her by kissing her neck again.]
[If he is not concerned, she is able to attempt to be- and it is easier, like this, than to be upright and half gone, focusing instead on running her fingers over his arms, to shoulders she had gripped so tightly the night before, to back she was afraid she may have mar-
Ah, yes, there they were.
Her fingers hesitantly brush over scratch marks left in her want for an anchor, huffing softly and all too easily falling for that distraction in this sensitive, weak shape, (she was going to blame the human shape for a lot, for a while), swallowing beneath the brush of his lips and that frustratingly hip shifting ticklish beard-]
Y- you do not care at all about Okehazama.
[A strong accusation from a woman who also... couldn't find herself to care about it, either.]
[Oh... no, that wasn't what she'd meant- she was so awful at teasing, she feels her face redden even further, embarrassed by failing in her attempt (but... slightly charmed that he was apparently willing to listen anyway, maybe? That's pretty impressive for a naked... male...)]
[She blinks almost comically a moment, lips pursed as she reflects on her utter failing in the arena of words, made quite the little fool, and quite sure he may be attempting to get her to actually put such a shameful thing into words.
Odinson... she will not be falling for that one, no. No, no.
Instead, Hayame summons up the courage to reach for him, to tangle her fingers in his hair, and to pull none too gently, attempting to capture a kiss. If she was going to remain here, in this bed... it wouldn't be embarrassing herself by attempting words in the wake of what she had done. ... They had done.
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[He looks so calm, so normal, and perhaps... that is something she should have expected. He claimed godhood, years of experience beyond her own, both in life and in... beds. (She certainly hadn't had any complaints for that experience last night.)
Whereas she... her flighty gaze flits between his face, his cloak thrown over the chair in the room, and her robe on the floor, shuddering slightly where he touches her bare hip, setting off a twitch in her knee and a press of her thighs she couldn't account for.]
I did not mean to intrude this long-
[Too well. She had never slept so soundly.]
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I'm glad you did.
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[He's glad. She's... glad, that he is, but there's still a small, welling panic in her chest she can't account for, a sense of lingering wrongness in the body she had come to him in, but she'd never have worked up the courage as a jinba, still too scarred by her experiences with relations between her kind and man, so she cannot do a thing for it, her wavering gaze falling her legs, and where they yet tangle with his.
But the change brings to mind a drunken memory, a story he had told her once, of his brother and a stallion, and he'd said it merely words, she thinks, but the recollection is enough to frighten her, blanching slightly.]
I am in season, what if-
[Why hadn't she thought of this earlier, how foolish, how stupid to give in to instinct and loneliness and not think of everything-]
What if I am stuck like this, like that tale you told me-
[Apparently the idea of being stuck in a human body scares her more than actually being pregnant, but???]
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His shoulders relax and he pushes himself up to sit beside her, hand sliding further around her waist.] A child will only take off I wish it to. There's no danger of you getting stuck with half the number of legs you need.
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[Only if he wishes? That sort of line would sound mad coming from anyone one else, but... if she accepts that he is as a god in his world... then it does not sound so far fetched, and it's enough to make her breath shudder out in relief, curling inward slightly as a way to minimize her nakedness, fiddling anxiously with the ring on her finger that had enabled the transformation in the first place. Of course- If she did the math... she still had time. That was all, it just hadn't been an entire day yet, she wasn't stuck, she needn't rip it off just to make sure, no matter how she wanted to-]
Good...
[She should go. She should leave- but his hand is around her waist, and she doesn't know what to do with that, unwilling to treat him poorly after how he had treated her... but afraid to truly examine his face, for fear of finding something different there than she had a day before.]
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You needn't stay. [He'd like her to stay, he can envision a morning spent pleasantly together... but.] You owe me nothing.
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Staying is... done?
[Her tone betrays that she honestly had considered leaving the more proper thing to do, the more normal thing, less shameful thing- what a partner would prefer from a... whatever this was now. Clandestine lover? One night of passion? And he says it like it's normal to needn't, in a way that finally brings her eyes back to him, forces herself to confront another fear, to look at him and search his face for anything different, even as her fingers continue to tug anxiously at the ring.]
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If we've nothing else to do, no other engagements to keep us. [Knowing a little about Japanese culture, he can understand why she'd ask.]
We might talk of battle, and strategy, or history... [His tone and look indicate that he actually means they could talk about none of those things. Indeed, the way he ghosts his fingers over her side is very deliberate, intended to tease.]
1/2
But here she is, and here he is, and the only thing that has changed seems to be her body.
There is an inexplicable moment, looking at him, where she feels like she might cry. But she swallows it harshly, bites her lip and forces herself to let go of the ring on her finger, to remember her two legs, and why she'd come here that way. (Admittedly, hard to forget, when she aches so- but not unpleasantly.) To try and not ruin this, with her words and stumbles.
To look to the door, and the world awaiting outside of it that she would much rather forget for as long as possible. So-]
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She can still blush for such insinuations as that, despite what they've done, frowning almost comically.]
Shall I begin with the Battle of Okehazama... ?
[Was that... an attempt... at teasing back?]
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But she chooses to stay.
He draws her to him as she settles on the mattress, wholly unconcerned about their nudity.] If you would deign to tell me, I'd be glad to hear.
[...he may be attempting to distract her by kissing her neck again.]
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Ah, yes, there they were.
Her fingers hesitantly brush over scratch marks left in her want for an anchor, huffing softly and all too easily falling for that distraction in this sensitive, weak shape, (she was going to blame the human shape for a lot, for a while), swallowing beneath the brush of his lips and that frustratingly hip shifting ticklish beard-]
Y- you do not care at all about Okehazama.
[A strong accusation from a woman who also... couldn't find herself to care about it, either.]
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But then he sits back, hands sitting at her hips as he looks at her.] Very well. I'll listen.
[Isn't he respectful, choosing to listen to her instead of just going for his needs? So respectful.]
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No, I do not-
[Quick, fix it-]
I do not care about it either-
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Oh, I see. [His finger rubs back and forth at her hip.] What would you like to do instead?
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Odinson... she will not be falling for that one, no. No, no.
Instead, Hayame summons up the courage to reach for him, to tangle her fingers in his hair, and to pull none too gently, attempting to capture a kiss. If she was going to remain here, in this bed... it wouldn't be embarrassing herself by attempting words in the wake of what she had done. ... They had done.
How was that for strategy?]
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He'll get her to say it one day, but for now this will do nicely.]