... nein

[Camulous Smithson]

He was embarrassed at his own inexperience when it came to intimate situations. Physical intimacy was one thing that was no problem, but emotional intimacy? That was something for other people... something so far in his past he forgot what it was like. He was afraid to trip up, say something wrong and ruin it.

For a moment he worried when she brought her hand up to her mouth and started smirking. All he could do was stare at her dumbly, wondering if she was going to tell him he was an idiot or become disenfranchised with him. He wasn't sure what she would do or think, or why he was anxious to know.

Then she looked at him with understanding in her eyes, not tainted by mockery or disdain that he feared, and a subtle, unwitting grin slowly showed itself on his face. He could laugh at himself as long as she still liked him.

"Yes, Metarie. Thank you, I'm glad to be here as well," he parroted in good humor. "The stew is delicious and I would love some more, please."

Perhaps if she held his hand, gave him some structure to work with, he would manage to get through the evening.

[Metarie]

She teased him and he smiled. Inside, Metarie felt relieved. She had worried a moment that he might take it the wrong way, but instead he quoted her almost verbatim. She chuckled and ladled more stew into the bowl.

"Oh, good. I'm glad." Metarie was pleased he seemed to be enjoying what she cooked, too. Unaware of the gesture, Metarie let herself look at him again. If the look was appreciative and a little lingering, she didn't notice. She always looked at him like that. The only difference now was that he probably noticed.

She had already begun to pour a little more tea into his cup. Truthfully, she was a little amazed he was sitting across from her, enjoying a meal, and talking casually... well, almost. They were both having some challenges; starts and stops that they couldn't seem to avoid. Current events with which they would both be familiar didn't lend themselves to dinner conversation, what could they talk about. Metarie took a sip of her tea.

"You know, I've never been outside of Marn? Not even to Shim. Have you?"

[Camulous Smithson]

Camulous smiled and maintained his good manners with no effort on his part while she refilled his stew and tea. Their exchange relaxed him somewhat. If he was allowed to fumble as he'd just done, and she understood him well enough to help him as she had, he no longer had reason to be quite so worried.

She wasn't there to judge him or compare him to something he was not - a perfect family man, a romantic white knight, or a weaver of words. Company was what she wanted. Company from the man she already knew.

That's something he could give her with confidence.

The smile and the look in her eyes did not pass over his head this time. In the silence of her kitchen, with nobody else around, her gaze came through crystal clear. Finally he saw what she wanted him to see, without doubt, without hesitation or distractions. The way she looked at him made his heart skip a beat.

And he looked back at her with the same eyes. All he needed from her was her company. She was giving it to him.

The steaming food before him went untouched until she started speaking, at which point he started to roll his spoon through the stew and smiled.

"Never been to Shim? In so many years? That's hard to believe." His eyes left her to look down at the stew. "I've never been outside of Thar Shaddin, but I know everything in our borders along the Ofriyu. You must visit the town. It's not as scary a place as people make it out to be."

[Metarie]

Something flickered. Something changed. His eyes seemed to take on a more dusky hue of blue and a flutter lit in her stomach. Heat seemed to prickle across her chest and cheeks as he looked at her; really looked at her.

"Never been to Shim? In so many years? That's hard to believe. I've never been outside of Thar Shaddin, but I know everything in our borders along the Ofriyu. You must visit the town. It's not as scary a place as people make it out to be."

Metarie smiled and shook her head. "Unbelievable, I know. I was ..." She paused, but continued, "kept quite sheltered when I was younger. Then, there was University, Medical School, work, the riots, and more work." Metarie took another sip of tea. "Really, I didn't notice until things became more settled." She thought for a moment. "I have all those books and I have read them all. Some of them talk of the lands within Thar Shaddin. I even have a book on Darleone Island, the fabled home of the Elves; yet, I have never experienced them."

Having said that aloud, Metarie realized just how sheltered she had been; how sheltered she allowed herself to be. She kept herself cut-off from so much...

"I should wear a sign," she joked. "Metarie Sehkhara: book smart, experience dumb." Metarie leaned forward a little, the light of an idea in her gaze.

"Would you take me to Shim? Since you've been there before? I don't think the town is scary. We could go on a market day. I have my own garden, but it's not a big one..." Her eyes shone with excitement at the idea and an infectious smile lit her features. "What do you say? Would you? Please?"

[Camulous Smithson]

Camulous began working on the stew again and listened to her speak. Of all the places on Pal Tahrenor he'd heard about, Darleone Island was the strangest. By all accounts it was a beautiful place - the elves were a good people - but it was about as flooded with magic as any place could be. The notion of a place like Darleone Island did not mesh with his understanding of the world.

Then, of course, she was fully elven, and this was a fact that was also difficult for him to fit into his worldview... Because he liked her. More with each passing moment.

All he did when she indulged in a bit of joking self derision was shake his head in disagreement.

"Good doctor Sekhara, it would be my honor to escort you through Shim. It would be a good chance for me to see how things are going there myself."

[Metarie]

(joint post between Metarie & Camulous)

Metarie smiled. "I look forward to it." The rest of the meal passed in companionable silences interrupted by conversation. When Camulous finished eating, Metarie began moving dishes to the sink in order to wash them. "I have wine or ale, if you want some." She said as she began to do the washing up.

Camulous stood up from his chair and helped her bring the dishes to the sink, implicitly offering his help in the process. He felt the need to help her out, to do something with himself after the hospitality she was showing him. He never got waited on or cared for by anyone who wasn't being paid. It didn't feel right.

Metarie gave him a grateful smile and handed him a towel with which to dry the dishes.

"I don't think I'll be going back on duty tonight, so I might as well indulge in some wine. I will not drink alone, mind you."

Metarie chuckled. "Of course, not."

Together they washed and dried the dishes. Camulous looked over at her occasionally, towel in hand, drying the dishes after she washed them. Of course, no words came forth that he could think of saying. He could not describe the full impact that this simple encounter was having on him. He put the last of the dishes away, and then snapped the soggy towel at her arm playfully before tossing it onto the counter.

Metarie gave a small "eep!" of noise when Camulous flicked the towel at her, then laughed flicking water from her fingers at his face. Drying her hands, she drew out two wine glasses. Moving across the kitchen, she pulled a bottle of white wine from the cold pantry. "Why don't we sit on the sofa?"

"You're the boss, good doctor," Camulous said and followed her into the living room. The way he kept calling her 'good doctor' amused her and it showed. 'Good' was an honorific used by most everyone in Marn, but in context of the evening it was tongue-in-cheek. Glasses and wine were placed on the low table sitting in front of the sofa. A bottle opener was handed over to Camulous.

"Will you do the honors, good Captain?"

"As you wish." He held the bottle by its base and leveled it over a table as if to smash it at the neck. Metarie started, looking at him wide-eyed, imagining shards of glass on her table and floor... and in their wine. A moment before doing so, he appeared to reconsider, and grinned at her wide-eyed reaction. "Oh, you don't open them that way here. I'm sorry.. The men always do." With some vague familiarity with how to perform the feat, he uncorked it properly and then poured wine into their glasses.

"Ah, well that explains why I get so many guardsmen with glass in their stomachs at the hospital," she replied dead-pan. Raising her glass, she held it out to him. "To ..." Metarie paused, wondering to what they should toast. Deepening understandings and friendships? Eyebrows raised, she looked to Camulous in the hopes he might have an idea.

Lifting his glass with hers, the words came to him without a thought. It was an opportunity to express to her everything he wanted to say but couldn't. Only now did he have a chance to hint at what he felt with more than the look in his eyes. "To deepening friendships."

The expression on her face softened in a wholly feminine way as she nodded in agreement, meeting his gaze with her own. That fluttering feeling leapt around in her stomach again and the soft flush brushed her cheeks once more. "To deepening friendships." Metarie touched her glass to his as she replied. Then, she took a long sip.

[Camulous Smithson]

The wine was delicate and fruity. Just enough sweetness to taste after a seconds, but not enough to be obvious or overpowering. It was in a crystal glass that barely weighed a thing in his hand. All of this suited her better than she probably knew, but was not lost on Camulous. He did notice these things, and smiled to himself while looking into the glass.

Camulous' old acquaintance, silence, remained comfortable and familiar even as she settled between them, teasing one of them to speak. The allure to speak to push her away held little sway with him until he had something he wanted to say. Things were not awkward, and he wouldn't speak without a reason. Eventually something came to mind, and he looked at her again, lowering his glass.

"How long have we known each other?"

Metarie lowered the glass, eyes focusing nowhere in particular while they sat in companionable silence. She curled up comfortably on the couch, feet tucked beneath her. When Camulous spoke, she looked at him. Tilting her head she thought for a moment. "Thirteen years, I think. Why?" She smiled, curious as to his reason for asking.

"I wonder how it is, in thirteen years, that we've never shared a drink. Never really sat together..." His voice was soft when the side of him that remained beneath the surface, the side that thought too deeply about everything that happened in his life, surfaced. That side of him knew more than the rest usually let on. "I'm afraid it's my fault. You should know that, whatever happened here the other night is not important to me. I'm not like... Like Everett."

He paused again, this time as much to let her digest what he was saying as to find the nerve to say what he wanted to ask next. It didn't come easily. He had to look away out of fear that his words might yet be damaging. "But I hope that it was magic that was responsible, and not true feelings you had."

Camulous spoke softly. When he claimed fault, she shook her head. But, then... the rest of his thoughts came out. Metarie stilled and a cold chill feeling crept all through her guts and chest while a prickle crawled across her cheeks. Where she had gained a hint of color before heat tinted her cheeks noticeably. She wasn't sure what to say at first, so instead took another sip of wine and waited for the warmth of it to settle her nerves. "Well, that's good to hear. His comments were ... horrible."

She wanted to talk about it. To share her thoughts and feelings on what happened.

"I... in the light of a new day, it seems I was swayed by something beyond me. But I did it, too, because ... because someone almost took what I think is mine to give." Metarie focused her gaze on him. "Does that make sense at all?"

Confusion filled her gaze. She still felt some turmoil over what had happened. "There was magic involved, most definitely. But, there was also ... I needed to be desired and wanted for me. Not because ... because of what I am, but for who I am." Her left hand fidgeted nervously with the fabric of one of the couch's pillows. She sighed and looked away as she took another sip. How could she explain the need to assert herself? How Idonir looked through her while Lucian saw nothing but her? How she had waited so long and been overlooked so often that what she felt for Camulous seemed like foolishness? Did he even realize that Lucian was the first one? the only one? Probably not. Metarie looked down into her glass. She'd almost drained it without realizing it.

Camulous saw her hand fidget nervously from the corner of his eye and knew that this was even more difficult for her that it was for him. He reached out to her instinctively, wanting to comfort her and reassure her that even the worst answer - even if she did nothing but praise Lucian as a lover - was not going to take away their new friendship. His hand was warm and held hers still, and their gazes met again.

He said, "I understand."

Metarie looked up when he spoke. She felt as if all the tension left her body and searched his gaze with her own. She wanted to make this very clear. "He was the first, Cam... which is why Everett's comments were so hard to take." She looked away as a soft, defensive laugh left her. "You'd have thought I was a licensed worker at the Brothel... but I... I don't. I'd never..." Her hand turned and she held his hand tightly." I... was waiting. But, I didn't want it to be taken away. I... was so tired and ... and..." I lost hope. He worshipped me like a goddess. Was she making empty excuses? Couldn't she have waited just a little longer? But then there was the magic... "...confused."

Feeling exposed and a little less than brave, Metarie met his gaze. At this point he brought her hand away from its place on the hem of the pillow and closer to him so that he could hold it more tightly. His glass was set aside so that he could hold it with both hands. He held them so that she would know how serious he was.

"I know who you are. You are no brothel whore." His blue eyes lost themselves in hers as he spoke with words that came to him on their own. "You deserve better." You deserved his worship and I want to give you mine.

Metarie shifted and placed her glass down as well so she could put her hand over his. Her heart skipped a beat and seemed to pound in her chest. Did he understand when she said she had been waiting, she had meant for him? God, his eyes were so... blue, and for once, he was looking at her openly, without the shutters he normally needed to keep his thoughts to himself while he worked. Metarie found herself amazed by the depth in them. She licked her lips, arrested by the look he was giving her. How had she ever lost hope? She deserved better? She was not so good at hiding behind shutters and again, it was probably earnestly obvious what she felt. "So do you..."

She was beautiful. Her beauty had always been there before him as something to be overlooked, perhaps protected, but never touched and never thought about on romantic terms. Staring at her though, with the soft light playing off her newly reddened hair, matching the soft blush that came to her cheeks, he could no longer deny everything that she was.

There were no more words to be spoken. She knew what he thought, and they both knew what the other felt. The pace of his heart matched hers. The urge came over Camulous to do something that should have been done years ago, an urge to touch her that needed, finally, to be fulfilled. Slowly, driven by impulses, he leaned closer to her and brought his lips to hers in a kiss.

Camulous leaned toward her, pausing for a moment as if to give her the opportunity to change her mind, but then... oh... his lips touched hers. Metarie inhaled a breath breathing him in as they kissed. His lips were softer than she expected them to be, but were couched in the prickly-tickle of a day's worth of beard. Her heart beat seemed to slow, to steady in the moment of their kiss. When he finally drew away from her she remained with her chin tilted and eyes closed for the briefest of moments. Her eyes fluttered open. He was still there, close to her. This time, she moved to kiss him.

It was too much, too soon, too quickly. The thought that he was taking advantage of her, no matter how drawn he was to feel her touch, turned Camulous away. He stopped her from kissing him again by pulling back slightly and touching her arm just enough to let her know he needed her to stop.

With a squeeze of her hand, he said, "This isn't wise. Not so soon. I should go."

Though a little startled, she understood. "Oh... yes."

Their night would end there, capping the best evening Camulous could remember having in years. Quietly she led him to the door, neither one of them in any hurry to get on with what could easily become a long goodbye. Once he was outside, she stood leaning against the frame and watched him walk away. His hat was still in her kitchen, long forgotten.

"I look forward to market day", she said.

By this point Camulous had regained control of his wits, and jokingly returned to the much easier routine of playing the obedient underling. "Yes, good doctor. As do I."

That night he left a changed man. He stayed up late, but for once it was not nightmares keeping him awake.

(OOC: Continued here http://www.tharshaddin.com/rp/viewtopic.php?f=9&t=1902)