Imiel
As they walked, Imiel found himself becoming relaxed. It was a pleasant day, with pleasant people. He smiled as he strolled along beside Rhiannon, pushing a snoozing Mia in her stroller and watching Annie with Charis while Ewan walked the dog.
"Oh, no, I'm certainly not offended," he assured her. "Not at all. It was kind of you to invite us along. It's true that my people don't really keep pets, but..."
He thought about how quickly Annie had warmed up to the dog, and his smile broadened.
"But I think maybe that's something we should learn. I can certainly understand the appeal of it, now. And clearly Annie does too. He seems like an excellent animal."
He fumbled a little for words, not quite sure how to express himself but realizing that he shouldn't let the moment pass.
"I'll admit I was a little... surprised. Pleasantly so. That you wanted us to be part of your decision. I've been trying to make some decisions myself lately, and they're difficult. Especially as a single parent - I'm sure you understand that part. I love my daughters beyond words, but I know I won't always be enough for them. They need a support system beyond just their father. And yet, it's so hard to know the right way to go about that. Selfishly, it can be difficult for me here. Always an outsider. Hiding my true face. But... there are... there are good things too. Like meeting you and your children. This thing with the dog - does that mean you're planning to stick around for awhile? I don't mean to put you on the spot. But your sister said we were like family, and you didn't disagree, so I guess I'm just wondering... sorry if this is an awkward question, but how seriously should I take that? I'm not asking you to promise never to move out or anything, of course things may change, but for right now - can we count on each other as supports?"
Once the words were out, Imiel wondered if he should have waited. If that had been the wrong thing to say - if the 'family' thing was just some human pleasantry that he had overinterpreted - it might become a very long and awkward ride home.
The Golden City
Re: The Golden City
Cait McIvor
Watching Marshal with Aidan brought a strange feeling of pride on her. Strange because she felt pride for Marshal - a sort of "by proxy" pride. The way he met Aidan where he was, understood it from a deep visceral place that didn't overwhelm him to access, and then guided the young man through his place of confusion and fear...it was beautiful. She wondered if Marhsal had ever pictured himself in a therapist's role. He was doing a marvellous job of it.
After Jameson and Maureen left, it was just the three of them in their provided quarters. She leaned on the balcony railing, looking around at the city streets, taking note of the direction the couple had gone off in. They had gone right...
"What do you say we see a bit more of Wakanda while we're here?" She spun around from the railing and grinned at Marshal and Aidan in turn. She didn't mind having Aidan around - and perhaps if they got out of here and into the city it would make that fact more of a reality to him to keep his mind's monsters at bay.
Once outside, she'd pointed in the direction opposite from where Jameson and Maureen had gone, linked arms with Marshal and offered Aidan her other elbow. The path to the left had led into more of a residential area. Children ran in the street toward a park and they followed the heady scent of flowers and the sound of laughter. She pointed out architectural details she liked, commented when a tile reminded her of the mysterious 12-angled stone of Cusco, and kicked an errant football back toward a group of teens after juggling it on her knees to their cheers of encouragement.
Eventually they had passed small local restaurant. She'd bartered with the proprietor in isiXhosa for a steaming clay pot and a small basket of square-cut bread. Cait handled the hot dish with thickened fingerpads and nodded in the direction from which they'd come. "I promised we wouldn't eat it in the street like hobos - c'mon, let's go back. He said he'd send someone around for the dishes later."
It made sense that everyone would know that they weren't locals, though Cait was a bit surprised that even a local restaurant owner knew where they were staying. She supposed while Marshal wasn't the first super soldier to show up looking for help, that he was the second was still somewhat of a novelty.
The pot was filled with a rich lamb stew, tender from hours spent simmering away in an oven. The bread, a corn-based treat with a sandy texture to the the spaces between the airy pockets. In short - heavenly.
A boy came to pick up the clay pot and basket as promised. Cait sent him off feeling a bit bad for not having anything to tip him with, having bartered for the meal with whatever happened to be in Marshal's pockets. The boy hadn't seemed to expect anything, but she still hoped they hadn't made a bad impression.
She had turned back toward the room and her eye had caught on the British folklore book again. Picking it up, she indicated a long chaise by the balcony with her head while showing Marshal the book's cover in spite of the fact it was obvious which book she was holding.
"Wanna read this together? I kinda want to see if I'm anywhere else in here!" Cait laughed and bounced onto the chaise.
If Marshal sat back against the chaise with her, she'd prop herself against him, holding out the book so both of them could see the pages. She ended up reading the first tale aloud - Gogmagog was another favourite of hers - and she would continue to read out loud if Marshal didn't stop her. During the reading, she'd reach up and touch his chin, stroking it gently with the side of her finger as if she wasn't even aware she was doing so.
Watching Marshal with Aidan brought a strange feeling of pride on her. Strange because she felt pride for Marshal - a sort of "by proxy" pride. The way he met Aidan where he was, understood it from a deep visceral place that didn't overwhelm him to access, and then guided the young man through his place of confusion and fear...it was beautiful. She wondered if Marhsal had ever pictured himself in a therapist's role. He was doing a marvellous job of it.
After Jameson and Maureen left, it was just the three of them in their provided quarters. She leaned on the balcony railing, looking around at the city streets, taking note of the direction the couple had gone off in. They had gone right...
"What do you say we see a bit more of Wakanda while we're here?" She spun around from the railing and grinned at Marshal and Aidan in turn. She didn't mind having Aidan around - and perhaps if they got out of here and into the city it would make that fact more of a reality to him to keep his mind's monsters at bay.
Once outside, she'd pointed in the direction opposite from where Jameson and Maureen had gone, linked arms with Marshal and offered Aidan her other elbow. The path to the left had led into more of a residential area. Children ran in the street toward a park and they followed the heady scent of flowers and the sound of laughter. She pointed out architectural details she liked, commented when a tile reminded her of the mysterious 12-angled stone of Cusco, and kicked an errant football back toward a group of teens after juggling it on her knees to their cheers of encouragement.
Eventually they had passed small local restaurant. She'd bartered with the proprietor in isiXhosa for a steaming clay pot and a small basket of square-cut bread. Cait handled the hot dish with thickened fingerpads and nodded in the direction from which they'd come. "I promised we wouldn't eat it in the street like hobos - c'mon, let's go back. He said he'd send someone around for the dishes later."
It made sense that everyone would know that they weren't locals, though Cait was a bit surprised that even a local restaurant owner knew where they were staying. She supposed while Marshal wasn't the first super soldier to show up looking for help, that he was the second was still somewhat of a novelty.
The pot was filled with a rich lamb stew, tender from hours spent simmering away in an oven. The bread, a corn-based treat with a sandy texture to the the spaces between the airy pockets. In short - heavenly.
A boy came to pick up the clay pot and basket as promised. Cait sent him off feeling a bit bad for not having anything to tip him with, having bartered for the meal with whatever happened to be in Marshal's pockets. The boy hadn't seemed to expect anything, but she still hoped they hadn't made a bad impression.
She had turned back toward the room and her eye had caught on the British folklore book again. Picking it up, she indicated a long chaise by the balcony with her head while showing Marshal the book's cover in spite of the fact it was obvious which book she was holding.
"Wanna read this together? I kinda want to see if I'm anywhere else in here!" Cait laughed and bounced onto the chaise.
If Marshal sat back against the chaise with her, she'd prop herself against him, holding out the book so both of them could see the pages. She ended up reading the first tale aloud - Gogmagog was another favourite of hers - and she would continue to read out loud if Marshal didn't stop her. During the reading, she'd reach up and touch his chin, stroking it gently with the side of her finger as if she wasn't even aware she was doing so.
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 872
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: The Golden City
Marshal Knox and Aidan Millican
As they strolled through the city, Marshal thought the evening couldn't possibly get any better. Holding Cait's hand, marveling at her many talents... and he was glad she'd seen fit to bring Aidan along too. Though it made it less of a 'date,' perhaps, Aidan seemed pleased to be included. He clearly hadn't wanted to be alone, and he was drinking in the sights of the beautiful city, his head on a swivel as he took in each new marvel. Marshal smiled at them both.
Uncomplicated.
Things got... less... uncomplicated when they got back.
After their meal, Aidan scooted off to render the images he'd just filled his brain with in paint, and Cait - made Marshal an offer he had wanted so desperately, and he said yes without hesitation. How many times had he had sex he wasn't ready for, just in the hopes of manufacturing this kind of moment afterward? A moment she was offering freely. No price to pay first.
He smiled as she nestled against him. But he was scared. His brain trusted her, but his body was too accustomed to the pattern of how this went. Marshal stayed tense - though he tried not to be, tried to just release it and relax - as he expected her hand to go between his legs. He told himself he was going to let her. It wasn't as if he had virtue left to protect; that idea was laughable at this point. It's not worth losing her over this, just let her do whatever she wants...
But it turned out all she wanted to do was snuggle with him. Touch his face. No hands below the waist. Doing what she promised, boundaries carefully observed. Gradually, he relaxed. Smiled more. Touched her cheek in return. Wrapped his arm around her. Listened to the sound of her voice, nodding to her to continue.
He was happy.
The bliss made him stupid.
"I love you," he said softly. Instantly, his brain threw up panic alarms. Why was he such an idiot? He had ruined this. But his instinct to start a groveling apology, to beg her to stay, was forestalled by his memories of how things had gone with her before. He didn't have to do that. She wasn't going to leave him for one mistake, just for saying the wrong thing. This was Cait. She would give him another chance.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out. I mean, I do. Obviously. You're you. But that should have stayed inside. I don't need you to say it back. I don't need us to talk about it at all. What I was trying to say... what I meant to say... is thank you. Thank you for being so kind to me. I've never had a partner who treated me like this. It feels great. And I'm just... happy to be with you. That's all."
He loved her, and she liked him back, and that was a pretty amazing thing.
As they strolled through the city, Marshal thought the evening couldn't possibly get any better. Holding Cait's hand, marveling at her many talents... and he was glad she'd seen fit to bring Aidan along too. Though it made it less of a 'date,' perhaps, Aidan seemed pleased to be included. He clearly hadn't wanted to be alone, and he was drinking in the sights of the beautiful city, his head on a swivel as he took in each new marvel. Marshal smiled at them both.
Uncomplicated.
Things got... less... uncomplicated when they got back.
After their meal, Aidan scooted off to render the images he'd just filled his brain with in paint, and Cait - made Marshal an offer he had wanted so desperately, and he said yes without hesitation. How many times had he had sex he wasn't ready for, just in the hopes of manufacturing this kind of moment afterward? A moment she was offering freely. No price to pay first.
He smiled as she nestled against him. But he was scared. His brain trusted her, but his body was too accustomed to the pattern of how this went. Marshal stayed tense - though he tried not to be, tried to just release it and relax - as he expected her hand to go between his legs. He told himself he was going to let her. It wasn't as if he had virtue left to protect; that idea was laughable at this point. It's not worth losing her over this, just let her do whatever she wants...
But it turned out all she wanted to do was snuggle with him. Touch his face. No hands below the waist. Doing what she promised, boundaries carefully observed. Gradually, he relaxed. Smiled more. Touched her cheek in return. Wrapped his arm around her. Listened to the sound of her voice, nodding to her to continue.
He was happy.
The bliss made him stupid.
"I love you," he said softly. Instantly, his brain threw up panic alarms. Why was he such an idiot? He had ruined this. But his instinct to start a groveling apology, to beg her to stay, was forestalled by his memories of how things had gone with her before. He didn't have to do that. She wasn't going to leave him for one mistake, just for saying the wrong thing. This was Cait. She would give him another chance.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out. I mean, I do. Obviously. You're you. But that should have stayed inside. I don't need you to say it back. I don't need us to talk about it at all. What I was trying to say... what I meant to say... is thank you. Thank you for being so kind to me. I've never had a partner who treated me like this. It feels great. And I'm just... happy to be with you. That's all."
He loved her, and she liked him back, and that was a pretty amazing thing.
Re: The Golden City
Cait McIvor
His admission surprised her. Everything around her seemed to slow down, the noise outside the window faded to a buzz. Her finger paused mid-stroke on Marshal's chin.
I love you
Those were words she'd heard spoken to her a handful of times in all the years she'd been alive. She thought she remembered her mother saying it once, but she doubted that memory. Cait was the extra child - the disposable royal. Familial love wasn't really a thing for someone in her state. There was the time she'd been a spy...another when she was marooned in a Mongolian outpost...but neither of those had been said and meant. Neither of them had been words she found herself currently struck by.
I love you
Marshal seemed to have sensed her world shaking and began an explanation - several explanations. She propped herself up and turned toward him to see his face, letting the book fall to the side behind her. For a long time she just...looked. Searched his face. Saw the fear - and the truth - in his eyes. The bit of sweat forming on his brow.
She should say something.
She felt a little clammy too, and realized she was experiencing some sort of crisis of emotion of her own. How did she feel? Cait knew she wanted to be around Marshal. Knew she trusted him. Knew she cared deeply for his health and well being. Was that love?
I love you
It was then she remembered the strange feeling - the sudden warm, heady, painful stroke to her heart that she'd felt when he'd told her he'd bought a book to help him communicate with her as a child. That feeling. That feeling she had set aside to analyze later. Stupidly set aside, she realized, but now she grabbed at it. Forced, no, willed her mind to pay attention. To connect the dots.
I don't need you to have clean hands
That was what he had said. Last night when they held hands under the stars. When she'd told him why he shouldn't love her. When she'd ignored her own feelings to focus on what she thought was the right thing and the right time. But that was the past, and now was now. Connect the dots, Cait.
And I could easily love you. So easily. If you'll let me.
Here he was, fulfilling that vow. So genuinely. Without reservation. This man who had a whole new life ahead of him had chosen her. And she realized...that she did know how to answer him. She'd known for a while now, just hadn't allowed the idea to take root - or blossom.
"I love you too." she whispered back, her face serious as she leaned forward and kissed him.
His admission surprised her. Everything around her seemed to slow down, the noise outside the window faded to a buzz. Her finger paused mid-stroke on Marshal's chin.
I love you
Those were words she'd heard spoken to her a handful of times in all the years she'd been alive. She thought she remembered her mother saying it once, but she doubted that memory. Cait was the extra child - the disposable royal. Familial love wasn't really a thing for someone in her state. There was the time she'd been a spy...another when she was marooned in a Mongolian outpost...but neither of those had been said and meant. Neither of them had been words she found herself currently struck by.
I love you
Marshal seemed to have sensed her world shaking and began an explanation - several explanations. She propped herself up and turned toward him to see his face, letting the book fall to the side behind her. For a long time she just...looked. Searched his face. Saw the fear - and the truth - in his eyes. The bit of sweat forming on his brow.
She should say something.
She felt a little clammy too, and realized she was experiencing some sort of crisis of emotion of her own. How did she feel? Cait knew she wanted to be around Marshal. Knew she trusted him. Knew she cared deeply for his health and well being. Was that love?
I love you
It was then she remembered the strange feeling - the sudden warm, heady, painful stroke to her heart that she'd felt when he'd told her he'd bought a book to help him communicate with her as a child. That feeling. That feeling she had set aside to analyze later. Stupidly set aside, she realized, but now she grabbed at it. Forced, no, willed her mind to pay attention. To connect the dots.
I don't need you to have clean hands
That was what he had said. Last night when they held hands under the stars. When she'd told him why he shouldn't love her. When she'd ignored her own feelings to focus on what she thought was the right thing and the right time. But that was the past, and now was now. Connect the dots, Cait.
And I could easily love you. So easily. If you'll let me.
Here he was, fulfilling that vow. So genuinely. Without reservation. This man who had a whole new life ahead of him had chosen her. And she realized...that she did know how to answer him. She'd known for a while now, just hadn't allowed the idea to take root - or blossom.
"I love you too." she whispered back, her face serious as she leaned forward and kissed him.
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 872
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: The Golden City
Marshal Knox
Sometimes it took time to form your thoughts into words. Marshal understood that. It was the same for him sometimes.
He tried to just be in the moment. To wait without fear or expectation. But his brain couldn't quite stop leaping between scenarios, strategizing to handle whatever might happen next.
(If she tells me to go away, how fast can I make it to my room and get the door closed? Hopefully Aidan will understand.)
He certainly didn't mind her looking at him, even under the circumstances...
(If she doesn't say anything about... about *that* part... at all, we can just forget it, right? Pretend it never happened? Change the subject? Watch my mouth better in the future so this doesn't happen again?)
He wished he had some inkling what she was thinking. Her mystery was part of her charm, of course. But right now, her inscrutability was terrifying.
(If she says she could never love me, I'll just tell her I don't need to be loved back. Because I don't. I went thirty-nine years without ever being loved back. I'm fine. I'll be fine. If I can just keep what I have, I'll be happy. I've never been happy before like I am now. This is enough.)
But then...
Then she said...
"Oh."
He couldn't think of anything more coherent to say. Fortunately, he didn't have to, because she was kissing him, and he was kissing her right back.
This was the one scenario he hadn't prepared himself for. It just seemed too impossible. His brain was too marinated in his mother telling him she would love him back when he was worthy of love... and he never managed to be worthy. In Ginny telling him over and over that no one would ever love him. In romantic partners who had ignored his 'I love you' because all that mattered was the sex. The possibility of Cait loving him back had never remotely crossed his mind, in all his self-accusation and frantic planning.
She did, though. She said she did, and he believed her. She had seen his cracked, broken, taped-back-together heart and seen something of worth there.
He didn't know what to say, but he reflexively held her closer. He was trembling, just a little. But Marshal wasn't scared anymore. It was joy. It was a release of tension he didn't even know he'd felt.
"I understand now why plants fight so hard to reach for the sun," Marshal finally said. Hastily, he clarified, "Weird thought, I know. But you're like the sun. You are warmth and light. You're... radiant. In every way. I get it now. That fierce instinct to reach for the sun. I'm so glad we found each other."
He kissed her again, on the forehead this time, and then rested his cheek against hers. Marshal felt safe, and happy, and alive.
***
Later, when Jameson asked him how his evening was, Marshal would just smile beatifically and say, "Good. Very good."
Sometimes it took time to form your thoughts into words. Marshal understood that. It was the same for him sometimes.
He tried to just be in the moment. To wait without fear or expectation. But his brain couldn't quite stop leaping between scenarios, strategizing to handle whatever might happen next.
(If she tells me to go away, how fast can I make it to my room and get the door closed? Hopefully Aidan will understand.)
He certainly didn't mind her looking at him, even under the circumstances...
(If she doesn't say anything about... about *that* part... at all, we can just forget it, right? Pretend it never happened? Change the subject? Watch my mouth better in the future so this doesn't happen again?)
He wished he had some inkling what she was thinking. Her mystery was part of her charm, of course. But right now, her inscrutability was terrifying.
(If she says she could never love me, I'll just tell her I don't need to be loved back. Because I don't. I went thirty-nine years without ever being loved back. I'm fine. I'll be fine. If I can just keep what I have, I'll be happy. I've never been happy before like I am now. This is enough.)
But then...
Then she said...
"Oh."
He couldn't think of anything more coherent to say. Fortunately, he didn't have to, because she was kissing him, and he was kissing her right back.
This was the one scenario he hadn't prepared himself for. It just seemed too impossible. His brain was too marinated in his mother telling him she would love him back when he was worthy of love... and he never managed to be worthy. In Ginny telling him over and over that no one would ever love him. In romantic partners who had ignored his 'I love you' because all that mattered was the sex. The possibility of Cait loving him back had never remotely crossed his mind, in all his self-accusation and frantic planning.
She did, though. She said she did, and he believed her. She had seen his cracked, broken, taped-back-together heart and seen something of worth there.
He didn't know what to say, but he reflexively held her closer. He was trembling, just a little. But Marshal wasn't scared anymore. It was joy. It was a release of tension he didn't even know he'd felt.
"I understand now why plants fight so hard to reach for the sun," Marshal finally said. Hastily, he clarified, "Weird thought, I know. But you're like the sun. You are warmth and light. You're... radiant. In every way. I get it now. That fierce instinct to reach for the sun. I'm so glad we found each other."
He kissed her again, on the forehead this time, and then rested his cheek against hers. Marshal felt safe, and happy, and alive.
***
Later, when Jameson asked him how his evening was, Marshal would just smile beatifically and say, "Good. Very good."