Into The Fade (Vinaein x cyrodilicbrandy)

[Vinaein]

@cyrodilicbrandy

The trees stretched so high, they could hide even the sun from view, Brendan thought after bringing his sword down upon the phylactery.

The fel energies still ran deep through the air, setting his teeth on edge, prickling flesh on the back of his neck breaking into tiny bumps as he attempted to relax with the blood of demons so fresh upon his sword. phylacteries, at least had been located and destroyed, which had eliminated the threat to a number of renegade mages. But there would be others, no matter how many were destroyed....there were always others from the Circles looking to enslave them anew. And with that brought other threats from the Fade, creatures summoned to enact their chaotic will. He had been fortunate these had only been lesser spirits this time.

The former Templar was dressed in simple mail, his shield over his back as he returned the sword to its sheath. Brendan was a tall man, well muscled with short black hair, smooth features and purple eyes, lean and muscled underneath the armor. His expression was caught in one of concern and trepidation, even after victory. "Not sure I like all this," he whispered calmly. There had been too many incursions later, too many attacks, too many demons and those seduced by their promises. The Mages had been defending themselves from the rapacious pursuits of the Templars, but that brought with it darkness of its own. Too many took the swift and vengeful path, opening gates to the Fade to allow the monsters through. In his pursuit of the phylacteries, he had been attacked more than once by them, as they'd threatened mage and innocent bystander alike. Still, his work was now complete. It was time to return to the village now, to safe lodgings from the forest, to gather their bearings before they attempted to find the next rift. Brendan set off through the woods, each step measured as he contemplated the path ahead for the rebellion.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Isobel shuddered as the Templar - former, now - brought his sword down on the phylactery, the glass shattering with the force of the blow. The blood inside spilled onto the ground, and she could feel the magic, that allowed Templars to chase down whomever the blood belonged to, dissipate. One down... Maker only knew how many more were left to find. But this was their duty now.

Turning away from the broken glass, Isobel glanced at Brendan as she tucked a few strands of runaway hair back behind her ears. Her own expression matched his, her dark eyes filled with wariness had they pretty much had been since leaving the Circle; though her lips twitched up into a small smile as she tried to put some subtle humour into the situation as she was wont to do. "No," she agreed, pulling up the hem of her blue robes away from the twigs and brush beneath her feet. "I think I'd be concerned if you said you were having the time of your life."

Following just a little behind him, keeping her robes raised from the ground somewhat, she couldn't help but make a soft grumbling sound. She, after all, was less suited to walking in the wilderness, or anything that required extended stamina, after being locked up within the Circle for the majority of her life. Brendan though, trained as a soldier, hadn't complained a single moment, and so Isobel usually kept her comments about the abundance of twigs that had practically destroyed the hem of her robes. The walking, combined with the increased need to use her magic, was definitely more exhausting than anything else she'd done before. Soon, however, they would reach the village again, and she'd have the opportunity to get off her feet.

 

[Vinaein]

Brendan privately thought he and the mage, despite what anyone might say, worked well together. They were certainly an unlikely pair, the mage and the Templar, apostate and renegade. A lifetime of training set Brendan to instinctive wondering if Isobel had heard the whispers of the demons, but he banished it, admonishing himself as he did so. Isobel had been nothing but honest with him, someone he could adjudge a comrade, someone he cared for. Perhaps it was easier, he reflected briefly, to think of mages as a concept in the past and not a reality. When one saw them as dangerous magic users, demon-conspirators, not people like Isobel before him.

He sometimes believed he could see a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes when Isobel gazed upon him, unable to blame her. Brendan had done all he could to have her blend in, though he still planned on helping her replace her mage robes with a civilian outfit to continue to remain inconspicuous. With tensions boiling over between Mages and Templars, it would be nothing less than all out war, which made it all the more important for the unlikely pair to remain away from prying eyes when appropriate. So they traveled, doing the good they could, destroying phylacteries where they found them. Trust, however, was something difficult to come by.

It was no surprise when she opted to make conversation during their journey. In fact, he even appreciated the gentle humor she used. Brendan was used to the outdoors, well used to the positions of the sun even through the trees. He judged it was closer to evening than midday by now. "Oh. Me?" He grinned at her. "I'm having a joy of a time, Andraste's grace....speaking of which, in the mood for a warm meal when we get back to the village?" He paused a moment, debating what else he might say before deciding on the obvious.

"You did very well. Thank you, Isobel."

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Through the length of their acquaintance, the pair had become rather close, and now with the recent, turbulent events, they were sort of complimentary; not just with their respective talents but in personality as well. There were times, though, that she couldn't help looking over at him with something that wasn't quite suspicious, but more like caution - he was a Templar, and years of living within the Circle had, unfortunately made her leery of them. Brendan had proved himself to be a decent man, so far, someone with mage sympathies; he had, after all, chosen to turn rogue and travel with an escaped apostate. So far, onlookers might have suspicions about her robes, though until she was able to get new ones, it remained to be seen whether anyone would recognise the subtle emblems on it. She hoped not - she wanted to feel safe at some point.

Isobel grinned back at the man as the two trudged through the outdoors. Despite the whole 'being-on-the-run' thing, Isobel was enjoying actually being free from within the Tower, away from grim stares and the threat of trouble at every turn. Well, now that she thought about it, she supposed that not much would have changed if people knew she was a mage, but rather that the setting itself was different. Still, being able to breath in fresh air deeply, feel the breeze against her face and the ability to actually go to different places took her breath away sometimes.

"A warm meal?" Isobel's grin widened, eyes lighting up. At the mere thought of some warm grub, she could feel her stomach rumble a touch in anticipation, and she wondered if Brendan heard it. "Yes! Some mutton stew and hard crusts of bread, Fereldan's speciality!" she cried, laughing along with the words. When the former Templar then paused, the mage's eyebrows raised a little, though his next words made her flush slightly at the praise.

"Oh," she started, her face wearing a trace of polite confusion. Isobel's magic skills weren't exactly polished, especially those she used in combat - after all, she'd had no way or reason to learn how to fight, unlike him. So hearing praise made her feel kind of accomplished, and a little fuzzy inside, as well. "Oh, thank you!" she said, the smile returning, the flush in the apples of her cheeks still extant. "Well... I haven't set you on fire yet, so I think I'm doing okay!"

 

[Vinaein]

Brendan had spent a great deal of time with the land itself. Training had included foraging, mapping out locations, familiarizing himself with terrain and direction, most unlike the stifling existence of the Circle. He knew Isobel had gone through so much, would not blame her if she did not fully trust him yet, if she did not consider that she yet had a true reason to. He could not fault her; men who had worn the armor of Templars had done great harm to mages, even those he had once called his own friends. More than that, Isobel seemed rather devoted to her playful sarcasm with them, something that made him grin all the more.

"Well, not to be competitive...but I think your happiness at not immolating me pales before my happiness at that" Brendan said gently. "Speaking of fire, I could go for a good roasted goat.... We've saved enough on rations and it's not like either of us eat a lot. Salted beef and hard biscuits go a long way towards reducing one's appetite," he added with a wry smile. He was friendly, even warm with her, genuinely enjoying her company. He'd heard dark rumors of how some Templars treated mages, like the unlamented Ser Alrik, rumors he had never believed until tensions had spiraled from control.

Helping Isobel, though, had been one of the best decisions he'd ever made. She was a kind, woman, resolute and steadfast in a desire to help her oppressed brethren, challenging all he had been taught about Apostates. And Andraste's grace, it's the right damn thing to do. If the Maker has a problem with it, he can tell me himself."

"And now you're speaking my language with mentions of mutton stew, Isoebel!" He said, with a broad grin. "Good sheets tonight, fresh water, a hot meal...maybe even a good sleep, before we see about tracking the next phylacteries..." he hesitated a moment before he beckoned her close while they walked. "That way is north, the village is half an hour's brisk walk. South behind us is the last town, a day's journey away...east is the road to who knows where..." he began to do his best to impart the necessary information for her. "...I don't think we're both followed right now, but one never knows. Just remember to hide your powers when we're with the townsfolk..." But damned if he couldn't go for a Ferelden specialty right now..."

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

The faint grumbling in her stomach only got somewhat louder as Brendan mentioned roasted goat; she could imagine the crispy skin and grease dripping down her chin as she bit into it, and her mouth watered. That actually sounded much better than the mutton stew, which was filling, she had to admit. But very... samey, after a while. Isobel obviously never lived a life of luxury, and usually the food in the Circle was mass-cooked without any special care or attention, and it was the same for the Templars too. The rations they'd brought with them definitely gave one a real appreciation for properly cooked food.

It was the same with the idea of fresh water and actual sheets; after days of fitful, uncomfortable sleep Isobel was definitely looking forward to having a roof over her head again. She knew Brendan was more used to the outdoorsy stuff that the mage had no experience with, and she tried not to complain about it too much; so far, a life on the run was preferable living under Templar rule. Templars who also happened to be decent men were few and far between, and the mentally and physically oppressive power that the bad ones held over the mages was stifling. Through the years, Isobel had seen and experienced terrible things, things that could entirely change a person. There was a part of her, though small, that was not entirely surprised that beaten down mages pursued the enthralling power of blood magic and carousing with spirits and demons. She understood it, yet all those mages had done was wrest the power away from the hands of the Templars and place themselves firmly within the power of demons.

She shook her head lightly, to herself, though she followed his lead as he beckoned her closer, and she closed the distance between them as they continued upon their path, nodding her head as she listened to him. She trusted Brendan, more than any other Templar - though that wasn't really a high bar - so she was always appreciative of his expertise and opinions when it came to travelling and other certain kinds of knowledge, just as he would listen to her advice if they ever had need of herbalism. Isobel flashed him a smile. "I don't plan on casting any spells, you don't need to worry," she said, chuckling. "I can't tell you how strangely excited I am to actually sleep in a bed, in a village." Her voice was filled with a kind of wonder - as stressful as their time had been since leaving the Circle, she could still take pleasure in the freedom she'd experience so far, such as it was. Ripped away from her parents when she was no more than six, she'd spent most of her life within those imposing stone walls.

 

[Vinaein]

The Templar tried to pretend he didn't hear the low snarling from her stomach. He tried not to draw any attention to that, merely smiling to himself as he thought of the food ahead. Maker's breath, he was hungry, he realized. So long on the road, sleeping under trees and in tents, with the only luxury being game or fish he could catch and fires when it was safe...Brendan kept a hand to his sword, even as he allowed himself to relax just a bit. He drew his shoulders back, marching ahead with one purpose on his mind: damn good food.

Brendan sighed in relief as they exited the forest, able to take a touch of an edge off when that was completed. He enjoyed how intently he and Isobel listened to one another, both, bright, eager and intelligent, always happy to learn more of one another. "Good," he said when they were out of the woods. "We'll need to practice how to get from point A to point B quick...and hopefully we'll hear word of others...like you. I'll stick by you as long as you need or until we get you to the others." he didn't say 'mages', always worried who might be listening. He didn't much like putting them in different categories like this, but he didn't seem to have much a choice.

She was good at appearing inconspicuous: mage robes aside, the two of them had perfected the art of blending in. And the roads were largely clear, the towns grateful to just continue on without conflict, to Brendan's gratitude. The Templar ranks were large enough he was sure he wouldn't be recognized and now he appeared as a common mercenary and his companion. He looked to Isobeland offered a comforting smile. "Inn," he said simply, thrilled he could direct them to the nearby walls.

"We have enough coin for it..." he stepped closer to her. "We'll be able to indulge a bit of joy for this..." He let a moment elapse as he struggled to find what was on his mind...until he realized his interest was what lay in hers.

"What are you thinking, Isobel?" He tried to deflect with humor in case he caused offense. "How we'll both need new clothes soon?"

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Now that the duo had reached the edge of the forest, towards actual civilisation - such as it was, being a small village, Isobel wasn't aware that her body language began to lightly oppose Brendan's. Where his shoulders sagged with an air of relaxation, hers lifted somewhat, her neck stiff, a little bit on edge again. The moment passed quickly; she was bright enough to imagine that her looking tense or worried would only raise suspicions, and to say that would not be good would be a massive understatement. Still, it was the unknown elements of the village ahead that caused that moment.

The village seemed nice and quiet, untouched so far by the chaos raging elsewhere, though she could hear faintly the sound of children's playful laughter, something that sounded large and wooden, creaking steadily, perhaps a mill or something. It was peaceful and pastoral, and made Isobel feel a little sad that she had missed out on so many normal things about how normal people lived. Even now, she wouldn't simply be able to find somewhere to settle down - the risks were too great. So when Brendan noted the location of the inn, closing the distance between their figures, she brushed that train of thought aside and grinned up at him. "Some roasted goat, at the very least."

There was a pause between them, the silence hanging in the air for just a moment. Isobel blinked, the brief thought of food having overtaken her thoughts very briefly. Brendan, though, had likely picked up on the undercurrent of feelings that had started to fill her mind since they had began to head towards the village. if she didn't trust him, she would have maybe said it was because Templars were trained to pick up on minute changes in mages, emotionally or magically. However, she'd known him long enough, so she hoped, that it meant he was just that perceptive; and caring, to boot. After all, he hadn't left her to fend for herself, when in fact that would no doubt have been easier. Protecting a young mage who had been inside stone walls since barely out of toddlerhood, who struggled to keep up through rough-ish terrain; so what that she could set hostile targets on fire and also practised some healing spells? To some people she would have been more trouble than she was worth.

"Oh," she started, shaking her head to herself. "I was just thinking about.. the world." Now that they had reached someplace where people were likely to listen in, she used heavy emphasis on certain words. The world, to her, was outside of the Tower. "But yes, a new change of apparel is also needed. I don't think these robes are in fashion anywhere in Thedas, not for the last thirty years." And there she went again, injecting casual humor into her words. Maybe once they were safe - safer - instead the inn's room, where they could talk in tones that the fire would cover, she would be able to explain her thoughts a little better.

 

[Vinaein]

"The world?" He lifted an eyebrow at that for a moment. He liked seeing Isobel smile, one of the joys that had taken place over the last period of time. The Templar was indeed good at reading the mage, not simply because he had been trained tor ead people but because he knew Isobel. He knew that she was ill at ease out of the walls of the chantries, but he was dedicated to seeing her through it now. "Well, at any rate, we've a while to go yet...as for me, whatever the mages decide..."

He was a Templar, after all. There was little doubt they might not greet him in a friendly manner. Brendan's face turned solemn. There had been too many mages he had failed to save in the past, far too much he had been complicit in via his inaction. He weighed that as they made their way tot he inn. "Whatever the mages; judgement is what I'm willing to accept," he admitted softly. "I have no intent on leaving your side until I am certain you are safe...All this is for you, for your own good, in case what they decide..." his voice trailed away momentarily. "In case it means I'm not with you anymore, Isobel," Brendan said. "I'm hoping it won't come to that," he finished as they reached the doors of the inn.

Brendan ensured they were not bothered, choosing them an inconspicuous corner before their food soon arrived once he had told the barkeep and flipped him a coin. Silence dragged on, Brendan having a mouthful of stew. "Damn, this is good...better than the last town I can recall," he added, almost lustily as he enjoyed the meal.

"We'll get to our room after. You take the bed, I don't mind sleeping on the floor," he added to her. "There may be other phylacteries stowed near enough when we work out the location. We'll take care of them, I'lllook into payment for any mercenary work, or guarding someone for a few days.... It won't be much longer," he added....as long as nobody reported them, but they had gotten fortunate so far, by Andraste's grace.

He gave a happy sigh, eager to enjoy some good roasted goat in the stew, before the ale also arrived, letting him quaff a good mouthful. "...Might seem odd if I'm shopping for dresses on my own. You have any to your taste? There's bound to be a local seamstress..."

He was awkward enough trying to make casual conversation, he thought with a sigh.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Her smiling expression turned as solemn as his, lips twisting in dissatisfaction, the idea of the pair of them being split up somehow souring the humour she'd just felt. For most of her life, she hadn't been able to spend very much time with other mages and the constant presence of Templars was by turns comforting and oppressing. Many times, she'd wanted to simply be alone; and the rebellion within the Circle could maybe have been seen as a blessing. But the danger she was in by default of having the gift of magic, not to even mention her complete lack of experience with...well, anything.

"Well," she began, her voice quiet. "Let's hope that doesn't happen." And she had to admit to herself that she was quite fond of Brendan, and the contrast between his black hair and purple eyes could be somewhat mesmerising; she was sure he'd caught her looking at him more than once a little more intently than normal. She would definitely miss his quiet remarks and solid presence.

As they entered the inn, Isobel gazed across the room with her amber eyes, taking in as many details as she could about the size of the room, the people, their clothes, the smells - and the smell was the most exciting thing; stew and fresh bread, amidst the common smell of ale. Not long after they sat down in a quiet corner, though the wait felt like it was long, their food arrived, and Isobel's happy, hungry grin was radiant. Sinking her teeth into the hot meal, greedily and decidedly un-ladylike, she nodded along with him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Isobel picked up a heel of bread and bit into it eagerly, chewing as she listened to Brendan's next words. Right, she thought; this place was pretty small, the rooms unlikely to be big enough for two beds. After all, it seemed like a 'pass through' town, unlikely to have the need to have much spare sleeping space. "I can see you working as a guard," she says, finishing off her mouthful of bread, before blinking. Of course she could; some of the mages in the Circle called Templars little more than glorified prison guards, after all, and she looked over at Brendan, hoping she hadn't offended him. Swiftly, she moved onto the subject of her change of clothes, busying herself with stirring a large spoon in her bowl of stew.

"Anything that is a little less conspicuous - I'm not that fashion-conscious!" she said, a chuckle slipping from her lips as she sipped her ale. "I like some of the bodices some of these women are wearing."

 

[Vinaein]

"Not that fashion conscious, eh..?" His voice took on a teasing edge to her. One thing he had tried to impart was the Templar capacity for skilled investigation; how to pierce your surroundings with your eyes, how to read people around you, what to look for in others and the surrounding environment...it had served them well so far. Quaffing the ale, he set it down with a sigh...seeing Isobel enjoy herself, he laughed shortly at it, grinning fondly at her all the way through.

"Guard work, eh? Not so different from once before," he added quietly...he had been kind to the Mages, warm and never mistreating them. They'd grown to trust him, at least. "As for me...I'll take the floor if need be, Isobel.." The former Templar was watching Isobel close as she set into her meal. "No reason for any of this to be awkward," he said quietly. "Please don't put that on your mind. You've got enough burdens to worry about." He ate largely in silence after, considering the woman before him, his companion. They had been together for some time now and he knew for her lack of experience with the outside world, Isobel was stronger than she appeared. He had seen her fight, many times, knew the steel beneath the silk in her. On could underestimate her at her peril.

"I'm used to the floor, too....I've slept in rougher, honest," he added. "Under trees, on hard stone. We're trained for it, we get used to it. It would hardly do for me to make you take floor when I'm doing fine," he said. "Just see to yourself, know that I'm here, Isobel."

But...beyond that?" He continued quickly, wanting to turn them off sleeping arrangements. "I was thinking we should head more east...put distance between you and the Circle, stay off the main roads to avoid Templars....we might even track down the next set of phylacteries that've been stowed away, destroy them as well." he cut himself a hunk of mutton and chewed it, more food arriving soon; roast capon, well spiced. "Try this," he added, his smile suddenly fond as his eyes lingered on her. "Isobel... I mean...it's been...nice with you these last few...well, you know. Getting to know you, I mean...I just want you to know I have your back on everything...just to the east, then we can go up north, there may be rumored of your kind gathered there....you'll be safe then."

He suddenly realized what he had missed and laughed shortly. "Erm...bodices, yes. Very nice. Wasn't noticing! We should have coin if you...ahem...want one?"

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Brendan's awkwardness in conversation with her was endearing, to say the least. For all that he was trained to be a stoic, perceptive soldier, with something of a grim task in keeping mages in line and out of trouble in the Circle, his social skills were not as honed. Though, she could pretty much say the same for herself - her friends in the Circle were fellow mages, under the same stresses and from any and all walks of life. It wasn't an environment conducive to learning the fundamentals of communication. And, sometimes, she flattered herself that maybe sometimes he was awkward because of her. Isobel's lips curved into a light smile, though it was edged with a little bit of wryness. "Well... I won't lie that I'd prefer the bed to the floor," she said, a slender shoulder lifting as she lifted her ale to her mouth once again. "And... I trust you enough to not.. anyway-" she quickly moved on from the subject, listening to his suggestions about their future direction, taking another, larger gulp of ale.

"I agree. The more distance been us and that place, the better. Maker, I'd rather live my life as a swamp witch than go back." The idea of tracking down more phylacteries and destroying them, giving those faceless mages at least some time to get to safe places before settling down without the constant fear of being hunted - it felt right, it felt like duty, something kind of new to Isobel. As new food arrived at the table, Isobel's eyes lit up and Brendan had barely finished his suggestion than she eagerly started to help herself to the hot, crispy dish. So preoccupied was she on the capon that at first she didn't notice the way his eyes lingered on her - the prospect of trying some completely new food took first place in her mind. It was only after she'd heaped a decent amount of the capon onto her own plate that she noticed the pauses between his words and looked up at him, her expression at first inquisitive.

Meeting his eyes, though, she felt her face flush somewhat under his lingering gaze and she felt her lips move into a flustered smile. "Oh..." she started, the apples of her cheeks warm. "Um, it's been nice, travelling with you, too. Even if I slow you down, sometimes," she continued with a light self-deprecating chuckle. She paused for a moment, wondering if the next words would sound a little too intense, or weird, but internally shrugged and continued again. "I appreciate you staying with me - you didn't have to, after all. I guess... well, I already feel safe with you, Brendan."

Isobel turned back to the food at hand, hoping the flush on her cheeks would fade soon enough, or else she'd blame it on the ale. "And yes, maybe... a blue bodice. If it costs more, then I can go without and just wear the same grey and cream that everyone else seems to be wearing." They'd likely blend in a little better that way, actually.

 

[Vinaein]

Brendan couldn't help but be a touch awkward at times. Being with Isobel, with all their history...and after he had been involved so much with the Templars that his social skills had considerably suffered. He had a hard time discussing basic things with others, regarding attraction and more. But at her smile, he was able to relax. Damnation, he enjoyed being with her, traveling with her and more. "...If you don't mind, I'll...behave then!" he said, going a bit red. Damnation! Of course it went without saying he would, who was he fooling by galavanting about like that? He was doing this to protect Isobel, not to make a total fool out of himself where she was concerned.

But she understood the gravity here. "...Swamp witch," he said, with a soft laugh. "Aye, you'd do well there, wouldn't you, Isobel...?" He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll hope to avoid that as well," he remarked. "Get you some place good and safe, let them do what they will with me..." he didnt add they might need to be separated, though. Thinking of that was a firmly depressing thought. He'd grown to savor time with her, he'd realized. To enjoy her company much more than he ever thought he might. How much he grew to look forward to their talks, to her warmth and kindness and selflessness...

And seeing her enjoy the food without a care in the world was incredible, he thought. He smiled at her enthusiasm, eating his own ravenously. "Damned good," he muttered with appreciation, his eyes turning to her...seeing her lovely face, her own joy at this. He grinned to himself before her gaze turned questioning upon him. "Maker, this's good. Just what we needed. Better than...than...hells, I don't know....

"Thank you. I hope I've been good company- slow me down?" He raised his hands. "Don't be absurd at all. I'd not have gotten this far without you, Isobel!" He smiled. "Without your knowledge of magic, your skills...I have no idea what would've become of me by now." He was being truthful, he truly didn't. She made traveling worth it, he doubted he ould have lasted upon his own. And hearing her say she felt safe... "You do me too much credit, Isobel..." She had no reason to trust him, but...even so.

"...Want me to give you the money, let you buy it? I can accompany you...though might be best to rest soon," he realized he was talking aimlessly. "Rather, whatever you wish!"

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Brendan started to heap praise after praise upon her, and Isobel's cheeks burned red again as she turned her face away. She was so unused to having even the slightest good word sent her way, especially from men. Usually the attention she had gotten from men in the Circle was annoying at best, unspeakable at worst. And even though the former Templar confirmed his intent on 'behaving' in sort of comedic, endearing way, he'd given her no reason to think he was anything like his brothers in any cruel regard. So she'd hidden a small smile as she saw his cheeks redden like hers had.

"Don't worry," she started, light humour seeping into her words. "I'll put in a good word for you." She had to put the humour back into that subject - the implication of mages 'doing what they wanted' to Brendan was vaguely terrifying; she hoped that her fellow mages would not be so brutal and vengeful that every Templar would have to face their wrath in some manner. It wouldn't just mean an innocent man would be punished, but it meant that they would then be apart; the way that thought entered her mind, she realised it sounded like their companionship was more than it was. ...and that wasn't an unwelcome though, really...

The praise he heaped upon her was a strange thing to hear, but it didn't make her uncomfortable, even if she began shaking her head as she cut her portion of capon up into little slices. There was some truth to his words, though; the two of them, with their differing and yet somehow complimentary skills and abilities, might not have been able to get far. Isobel certainly wouldn't have survived this long; Maker, she would have likely gotten lost in the woods and starved. Isobel, pausing in her meal for a moment, laid her small hand against his toned forearm and gave a soft squeeze that was both thankful and reassuring.

"Ah... I think we should finish eating up and then rest, before going on a spending spree," Isobel said, picking up her cup and draining the last of the ale in it. "My dainty mage feet are aching from the walking, and... well, we're probably not being followed closely enough, or at all, to warrant a speedy change of clothes? So... happy to do it later." Isobel's dark eyes looked up at his, her voice subconsciously seeking approval, as she so often had to do throughout her life. "If...If that's okay?"

 

[Vinaein]

Isobel had a tendency to turn crimson from praise. It was a habit that brought a song to Brendan's heart. After all she had been through, she could still smile as she did. she could flush like a schoolgirl as well. Didn't they make such an unlikely and absurd pair at any glance at first? From the reluctant, renegade Templar to the kind Apostate...traveling together, with him reassuring her of any code of chivalry. Wasn't it just...absurd?

Yet strangely comforting? Oddly compelling and enjoyable all at once? Was that unusual, he wondered as he remained so close to her, even as he took breath after breath. The two had something of a history now, traveling as they did and more besides, but he was attempting to keep 'professional' as it was. even as pleasant a thought that anything else might have been...

Either way, he fully intended to get her to the mages and accept their judgment. So be it, whatever they had in mind for him. He would accept and continue from that point on. "I'm glad you find things amusing." His words bore the touch of chastisement, but he offered a playful grin to go along with it, showing that he was playing along by her.

He chewed on the capon's tender meat, cutting slices as he considered through all of it...and became aware of Isobel's gentle hand upon his arm, the squeeze that made him stare and offer warmth in his gaze toward her. "A rest," he echoed her, before sipping his drink, chuckling again. "We can give those delicate feet a rest..." he agreed, setting down the coins. "...I have the room booked, at least. And we have cover. Shall we retire for a bit?" He flicked a thumb towards the stairs, an invitation for them to take a goodr est away from the world, with just one another as witness.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Brendan could playfully chastise all he wanted, but the humour she had was what had pretty much kept her going, all throughout her life in the Circle, and even now. She was, though, grateful he could take a joke, be on the receiving end of a teasing remark, without Isobel feeling like she'd made a mistake or something. It really was odd, whenever she thought about it, just how well the two got on, and worked together. Isobel didn't think she could have asked for a better companion.

The mage finished up the last of her plate, feeling full for the first time in a very long time. The meals at the Circle were fair, but not meant to fill a person up, and after their dried rations over the course of their travels, she thought her taste buds would never be able to enjoy something so simple as a cup of ale again. Speaking of the ale, it wasn't like any of the watered down stuff one could find, and she was glad that she hadn't had much more - she thought it was making her feel a little warm... except that when the former Templar's purple eyes rested on her, she felt even more flushed, and she was sure that wasn't the alcohol.

Either way, she was eager to head up the room they had rented; the ache in her feet was making her legs feel heavy, and the sooner she laid down and took pressure off of them, the better. Brendan teased her about her 'delicate feet', and she scrunched up her nose at him playfully, as if she highly resented his words. "We're not all strong soldier types, Brendan," she retorted, pushing the chair back and standing. A soft grunt slipped past her lips as the ache in her legs began again, but at least she only had to get up the stairs before she could rest. And at least he was chivalrous enough to allow her the bed, even though in return for his protection she would have been willing to sleep elsewhere - but her body would not have been impressed with her. She brushed down her robes of any stray crumbs of bread, stepping somewhat gingerly towards the stairs, before turning back and tilting her head a little. "Well?" she said, her voice playful.

 

[Vinaein]

On reason Brendan found himself getting along with Iseobel so well was a mutually shared sense of humor. Every joke, every playful barb between them, every smile and jibe helped to keep them going together. The teamwork between them, the compatability, was more than he had ever known with a fellow Templar. The indoctrination within him still rebelled at it, reminding him she was a Mage. The rest of him told himself that it was Isobel, first and foremost.

His own plate was clear. With so long on the road, he'd eaten ravenously without even meaning to. He chuckled to himself, just a touch embarrassed by it. But Isobel didn't seem to mind. In fact, she didn't even seem to mind it at all...Brendan had never known luxury food growing up, and he was a decent enough cook albeit limited. Isobel was probably sick of his amateurish attempts to make stew for them with roots and meat...especially when it was dried.

His violet eyes turned back to Isobel, his smile still so warm and friendly as he beheld her smooth, beautiful skin. And there was the playful little scowl she was flashing at him. "Oh, you think I'm a strong soldier?" He asked as he rose....he was eager to get out of the eyes of the public. Stretching, he followed her. "Yes, yes, I'm coming!" He said as they went up the stairs, Brendan rolling his eyes.

"Insolent," he said, with a gentle nudge, albeit showing a teasing edge still. Behind the door was a simple room with a bed and desk, little else....but it was comfortable enough.

"And here we are," the Templar pulled his boots off. "You know, I can probably arrange a bath for us in the morning....uh, by which I mean...not TOGETHER!"

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Isobel's dark eyes rolled up in mild exasperation, simply heading up the creaky, slightly wonky stairs. The room they were going to spend the night in was a small one, though had a cost, quaint air to it. It was nothing like the rooms in the Circle, sparse and unforgiving. No, there was character in this room, as small as it was. The carpet might have been thread-bare and the bedcovers somewhat ragged and worn, the paper upon the walls peeling in some places, but it still felt good, and safe - though after sleeping on dirt and grass for so long, most things probably would have been better

Isobel stood by the bed for a moment, looking around as Brendan started to remove his boots. Her own feet cried out for a similar freedom and she plopped onto the bed with a comforted sigh and unlaced her shoes eagerly. As Brendan mentioned a bath, Isobel's ears perked up and she looked at him in time to see the way his face changed into one of chagrin, worried his words might be taken out of context. She couldn't help herself - her body rocked with giggles as she managed to undo both of her shoes, where they dropped to the floor haphazardly.

"Oh, Brendan," she said, through the gales of giggles. Her first thought when he'd mentioned a bath hadn't been for them to take a bath together, not in the least because the bathtub was unlikely to fit both of them regardless. So she had to laugh at him, though it wasn't done meanly. It was endearing, and even further cemented the trust she'd had in him so far. She had been no stranger to unwanted suggestive remarks back in the Circle, so this was kind of refreshing. Soon, the giggles died away, though the grin was still on her face. "I didn't think that's what you were suggesting!" She desperately wanted to tease him further, make some eyebrow-wagging joke about how he only needed to ask if he wanted to see her disrobe, but she thought the man might have actually exploded; so she pressed her lips together in a smirk and kept it to herself.

 

[Vinaein]

The exasperation made him scowl, before he grinned. Each footfall upon the staircase produced a whining groan from the old inn He would have liked a better place, for all the faults of their old home it had at least provided comfort even if a gilded cage was still a cage for both. With all that matter considered, at least they had a place that was better than the dangerous woods in the dirt, the Templar reminded himself. "Hope this is sufficient," he could help but remark as the door creaked open to reveal their luxurious accommodations for the night. "Here we are."

He gave it a moment. "Last chance to get the bed alone," he added. "I'm not going to hold a grudge if that's what you want, Isobel." He tapped his feet down upon the floor, savoring the freedom from the liberating confines now, sighing out in rapture. After mentioning the bath and her set of giggles, he rolled his eyes, sounding almost playfully gruff. "Something you're finding funny, my fair lady?" He asked, folding his arms in an almost sullen gesture.

But seeing Isobel laugh was wonderful. He liked it, a reminder of the closeness they had. More than that, in fact, a reminder of optimism, of a potential for better days ahead of them. He did not grow angry, not at all. He only grinned at her amusement, shaking his head when his mock irritation quickly faded, replaced by a grin of his own. It was endearing, the way she laughed and there was almost too little reason for them to find mirth in anything thee days.

"Well...good! Because it wasn't!" He protested, before glancing over her. "Are you comfortable? Your feet aren't sore?" He tested the bed, finding it soft enough before he began to at least undo his shirt to reveal a muscular and scarred torso. "...You need me to close my eyes, if you want to...? I can...keep them closed through the night if you require, Isobel!"

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

From where she was perched on the edge of the bed, boots in disarray on the floor, she looked back up at him, her face alight with mischief. Had the bed been just a little bigger, she definitely would have offered for them to share it - Isobel didn't take up much space, and she was almost entirely confident Brendan wasn't the type to let his hands wander across her whilst she slept. But alas, the bed was just enough for one person, and would only allow two if they were cuddling very close. She couldn't imagine Brendan's reaction to that idea.

"Ah, yeah..." she said, tilting her head. "I'd like to sleep on the bed, it's decently comfy. If you really want to, though, there's worst places for me to sleep than on the wooden floor." And she wouldn't have outwardly complained if Brendan chose to sleep there; arguably she felt he needed to better rest of the two of them, as her protector. She liked the way he pretended to be irritated or annoyed by her humour and giggles, and when that facade slipped away to show his own amusement at her antics. His awkwardness was kind of just the icing on the cake.

Isobel blinked at Brendan, trying very hard to hold back the laughter, lest he thought it was entirely at his expense - the idea of Brendan being so chivalrous that he would keep his eyes closed, at night, when he should be sleeping; she stifled the laughter, saying: "You can keep your eyes closed while you sleep, like people usually do, if you like!" - until a little distracted by the emergence of his toned torso. She wasn't staring, exactly, at least she didn't think she was. She leaned across the bed, finger outstretched without thinking as her curiosity got the better of her, running her finger across a thick, jagged scar. "This one looks nasty. How'd you get it?"

 

[Vinaein]

Brendan was pulling off his tunic to join the boots, though he folded the tunic nearby neatly. Good clothes were something they didn't exactly have in abundance for the moment, the former Templar thought. He did not have, and couldn't even take, his extensive set of beautiful, resplendent armor of course...hell, after so long, he even felt slightly exposed without it. He wore a more moderate and plain set of leathers with a good tunic. Nothing much otherwise, he thought.

He kept his sword off to the side. That was one of the most important possessions yet remaining to him. "If you want the- " he stopped. "You are NOT sleeping on a wooden floor as I take the bed!" He sounded almost aghast at that. "I'll take the floor if anyone or we can both take the damn bed, we're both adults!" He realized what he had said. "....By which I mean..." he stopped sharply, trying to catch himself. "....I am simply not doing this properly, am I...?" He smiled weakly, even helplessly as he ran a against against his short hair. Hell, he liked her silliness, her gentleness, everything about her. He liked being close to her, speaking with her...he liked her and she knew that so well.

"...I've been known to...sleep with my eyes open, you know! Training!" he protested, before he sighed with a slap to his own forehead as he shrugged out of the tunic. She was suddenly near to him, feeling his body. He went a bit still and grinned at her. "Would you believe...training accident...?" He asked, before he chuckled softly.

"Nah...no great story...caught a blade from a Darkspawn with that one. Nasty, jagged sort of blades. I was lucky i wasn't poison...others have been done for with...just that..." he reached to put his hand upon hers, feeling the delicate skin.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Isobel watched the former Templar with a vaguely cheeky expression as he reacted to her words, essentially digging himself into a hole. For someone who'd clearly had extensive Templar training, he could be very awkward. But it was incredibly endearing, and definitely a plus compared to many of the other Templars she'd ever known. "I know what you meant," she said, not unkindly - teasing him was all well and good, but she couldn't keep making the poor man flustered over their sleeping arrangements.

Isobel's face wrinkled slightly as Brendan told the story of the scar her fingers were running over; she was thinking of Darkspawn, and how the blade must have felt as it pierced his skin. She repressed a shudder, though her lips curved into a grin. "I see. Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad it wasn't a poisoned blade. Who would be my knight in shining armour?" Her words were teasing, though there was definitely a truth to her words; as glad as she was that he was still alive and able to see her safe on their travels, it was more that she was glad he still existed, regardless of him keeping her safe. When he lifted his hand to cover hers, where it rested upon that scar, she inhaled quickly, her fingers stiffening as her eyes met his. At first, she was worried maybe she'd annoyed him by asking, by touching him, but she couldn't sense that from him. "Um..." she said into the silence, for want of anything better to say, the apples of her cheeks flushing red.

 

[Vinaein]

Isobel had an unparalleled way of getting underneath someone's skin. Nobody else was quite so adept as working her way beneath his nerves. For all she had been through, though, there was a joyfulness in the simple act of living beneath it; a passion and zeal for the undiscovered, to go on and remain living through it all. He meant to see her to safety before, and...damn it, her in such proximity. She was beautiful, warm, and he could not help but notice how her robes clung to that body of hers. He forced himself to dignified relaxation with her hands there... "I...I thought you'd know..." he added while her fingers brushed his skin...

"It didn't hurt...doesn't hurt..." he added delicately while he brought her hand up. "I was just careless for a moment...it still healed," he whispered as he gazed into her eyes. Beauty, warmth, the shimmer of those eyes. "Shining armor, huh...?" he whispered as his hand squeezed upon hers delicately. He could feel the freezing of her hand, his eyes upon her even more as he instinctively brought a hand up to her cheek, brushing the fingers against soft skin.

"Where would I be without my lady, then...? Every knight needs one..."

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Isobel's teeth nipped at her lower lip as her face continued to feel flush, skin burning red. Her heart beat a skipping rhythm through her veins, her amber eyes almost sparkling as she stared back at Brendan. Only moments ago, the two were teasing and chuckling with one another, in much the same way as they had always done, and now the moment had changed; as Brendan brought his hand to her face, cupping her face, she closed her eyes with a quiet sigh, relishing the moment. Isobel was certainly not complaining about the change in atmosphere, and she'd spent most of her life locked away and subject to all sorts of cruel words and touches that, even if it was just the ale talking, she didn't want him to pull away too soon.

Still, it was sort of a new territory for her, and she felt herself fall back on her sense of humour, though her words were quietly spoken. "I'm not sure I'm much of a lady," she said, leaning into the distance between them across the small bed. Her free hand, trembling almost unnoticeably, mirrored Brendan's own, where it curled against his cheek. The beating of her heart drummed, and she thought she could hear the sound of it in her head. Isobel, eyes still on him, dithered, uncertain - she was aware of her desire to lean forwards, to press her lips against his, to tangle her fingers in his hair. She was, however, inexperienced, and couldn't get go of a foolish, almost child-like worry that Brendan wouldn't like the way her lips felt on his.

There was, though, only one way to find out, and Isobel was typically good-humoured enough to be able to bounce back from things like rejection, using laughter and jokes to deflect. So, with a sharp exhale of breath, she made up her mind, and moved forwards. Her lips were smooth and warm, and covered his with a softness, a shyness, that was so unlike Isobel's normal confidence and aplomb. Her fingers trembled against his face, in his grasp.

 

[Vinaein]

The image of Isobel with her fine little teeth set against her lower lip just made him smile. His gaze ran upon her face and he could almost hear her heart beating in perfect sync with the racing of his own. The way they could laugh together, despite everything...but it had always been that way, had it not? Even with the differences between them, Isobel had such a beautiful sense of humor and human warmth under it. She was an eternal reminder of the lies the Circle had told, of the human dignity of Mages...while right here and now, he wanted....

What? He wanted what? The confusion welled up within as he tried to work through it. He stared into those eyes, seeing the woman he had been traveling with. "If you're not a lady, I've no idea who is," he returned. Suddenly Isobel moved, cat-quick in swiftness to end up so near to him. He stared at her, able to hear that heart in his mind, his hands to her. Her skin was so warm, flushed beneath the fingertips. And then she was closer still. He felt something, silken soft to brush against his lips, realizing it was the velvet caress of her mouth. Her fingers combed into his hair. He was rooted to the spot in surprise, processing it.

Isobel had kissed- was kissing- him. Before he could process it, his body reacted. His arms went around her and he pulled her in. He kissed her with a deep, warm and heated passion, closing his eyes as he pressed himself to hers. He kissed her full and deep, drinking in her for a long moment before he released her, pulling back to look into her eyes.

He didn't apologize. He simply said her name. "Isobel...that was...wonderful."