Shiver
Summary: The course of love never runs smoothly… However, isn't that what makes it so addictive? /Historical - flavoured - SpaBel/
Warning(s): May contain dark themes and sexual content in the following chapter(s).
Author's Note(s): This story is heavily inspired by the beautifully eloquent writings of my good friend, Immer wenn es dunkel wird. Above that, there can just never be enough SpaBel.
Extra: I was listening to both 'Gregorian – Maid of Orléans' and 'Vangelis – Conquest of Paradise' when I wrote this. I recommend playing them in the background whilst reading.
I hereby disclaim any rights.
~ x ~
Ever since the first moment they laid eyes upon each other, an illuminate spark crackled in the air. No one in the room present at that time could've denied such simple a fact. The olive green of his eyes darkened with a lustfulness that surpassed every passionate sensation possible whilst the teal of her eyes seemed to sparkle in willing anticipation.
Yet the course of love never runs smooth and with them, that predicate was an immensely cruel and vast understatement.
~ x ~
"Bella…"
The sound of her name rolls off of his native tongue like velvet and she cannot help but feel her maxillas grazing themselves with a faint pink blush as she recognizes his lilting baritone-like voice.
She takes note of his nearing footsteps in the grass and leaves the woven reed basket she had been filling with ripe tomatoes on the ground and turns around to see him walking steadily towards her. But when her eyes fall on his attire the color leaves her face and the corners of her lips turn down in sadness.
He was dressed to leave on another voyage beyond the great sea. An immaculate white camisa made from a very loose and air-permeable fabric covered up his strong arms whilst a sleeveless dark leather doublet was buttoned tightly around his broad chest. It had the same color as his untamed curly hair, a dark brown that reminded her of the moist earth after a cooling shower of rain. A long jacket dyed in the color of blood hung loosely around his shoulders and in his hand he held a large feathered hat in a proportional color palette. His black breeches, which were tight fitted and showed off his strong muscled legs, were stuffed into heavy brown leather boots that made the ground vibrate as he took each arduous footstep closer to her.
He stops right in front of her and lifts his hands to her face, caressing his thumb over the light freckles on her cheekbones which would've stayed invisible to him if not for the radiance of the morning sun.
She arches her head into the touch and places her own hands on top of his while she longingly breathes in the warm smile he presents her with at the act of love-filled non-words.
"Antonio…"
She hums and her hot breath caresses the palms of his hands as she takes them to her lush red lips and presses a soft kiss to them.
He lowers his hands to her bare upper arms and she shivers as his fingers outdistance a trail of goosebumps on her milky-white skin. With a slight urge he guides her towards the trunk of a large poplar tree so that it may serve as a support for her back. Her small frame shivers in delight as he steps even closer, closing the distance between them and leans down to press his burning lips on her soft welcoming ones in the most gentlest of kisses.
"I will return, cariño." He whispers against her lips and smiles.
She raises her head and meets his eyes, her own green-blue peridots filling with dreariness as she nods confirmatory, believing it to be true. A tear slips past the boundaries that are her dark long lashes and she tilts her head back downward to discretely wipe the little intruder away, trying to stay strong for his sake and keep on smiling.
But he observes and understands, and lays her golden head on his broad chest to comfort and soothe in a way she had never uncovered before. Before him. Before them.
"Stay safe." She says breathlessly as she wraps her arms around him and inhales his scent, a mixture of woodlands after rain, sweet citruses and musk.
And as he parts, she stays behind to tend after the house and it's other inhabitants. But it is only she who silently cries, fortunately hidden in the tomato fields, as she fills the woven reed basket to the brim with the dainty and savory fruit.
~ x ~
After months of seemingly endless waiting she hears the church bells echoing their joyous song as white-sail ships appear on the horizon; the Conquistadores are home. It is spread across the nation that the Spanish Empire has successfully sailed to the New World and has bravely conquered vast colonies filled with never-ending riches. Lands that, if she would believe it, for he speaks the truth and nothing but the truth, spread farther than the heavens itself and are engulfed in wild primeval forests, massive rings of snowbound mountains and waterfalls more higher than any cathedral in the homeland.
She stands in the sunlit kitchen and watches him as he narrates his tales of wonder to her brother and Romano, the little headstrong Italian. But neither of them pay his stories any attention so it is mostly she who hears him and smiles and nods at his childlike candor. His eyes shine joyously and his smile never fades as he recites to her his quest for El Dorado, the City of Gold, and how he found it and how he brought all if its jewels, adornments and trinkets back with him.
As if to prove to her that he tells the truth, he searches into his coat pockets and pulls out something that makes the sun reflect on its gold surface and showers the kitchen in a rainbow of colors.
"For you, mi amada."
He offers her the trinket, a necklace, as he holds onto her gaze and he ignores the cold calculating stare from her brother and the questioning look from his little henchman, until their fingers lightly brush as she reaches for the gift and her cheeks become dotted with a rosy-red.
She holds it up in front of her and gasps slightly in wonder of its beauty. The chain is made of the purest gold and every few inches another chain links itself in a bow to the next where a pearl and a red ruby dangle from its ends, creating a spidery web of gold, ivory and burgundy.
"It's beautiful." She gazes in wonder at the craftsmanship. "Thank you."
His eyes sparkle with joy and he gets up from the chair he previously occupied to walk over to her. As he gestures for her to give him the necklace, he asks her to turn around so he can place the golden ornament around her slender neck. And as he leans in closer to the nape of her neck in order to close the lock, a sigh of his hot breath grazes her ear as he whispers only for herself to hear.
"Pero no es tan bonita como tú, mi pequeño petirrojo."
The sound of his passionate voice makes her cheekbones resemble strawberries and she cautiously turns around to graze his sun kissed cheek with her moist plump lips. And to make sure the other two non-humans present saw this gesture as a mere sign of gratitude, she repeats herself in thanking him thoroughly and by telling that he really shouldn't have gotten her such an expensive gift.
As her brother snorts in non-appreciation, she knows with certainty that she has successfully fooled the Dutchman yet again.
~ x ~
Translations:
Cariño (Sp.) = darling
Mi amada (Sp.) = my heart/my love
Pero no es tan bonita como tú, mi pequeño petirrojo (Sp.) = But not as beautiful as you, my little robin
Author's Note: Will be continued... Reviews are much appreciated.
~ x ~
21/07 - Happy independence day, Belgium