When Meira opened her eyes, she felt a momentary flash of panic, but it was instantly quashed by a tremendously warm and safe feeling. She buried her face back into the pillow, though the noon-day light was too bright for her to fall asleep easily. Yet Meira was unwilling to move after the exhausting efforts of the night before and the warm protective arm covering her body and pulling her close.

Yet she was eventually driven to move by the light and the noise around her. She turned her head to see her partner from the night before, sleeping soundly and snoring lightly. The city of Daggerford was moving about the middle of their day, not knowing the monumental effort the pair had exerted to rid the shores of one of its deadliest scourges.

Meira eventually shifted out of bed as slowly as possible so as not to wake her companion and moved calmly and quietly towards her possessions. As she sat down to take stock of her things, she pulled out the Scroll that she had spent months searching for. While her curiosity bade her to open it now, she resisted the impulse and laid it down.

The two of them had stumbled into the room a scant hour before dawn the night before. The skiff they had commandeered had taken them out to one of the landings outside Daggerford, and there they had made their way back into town. Malark covered himself with the tattered cloak and they found that upon mooring, they had barely enough energy to make it to the room. Luckily the battle hadn't worn away their sense completely and Malark had set his wards before passing out. Meira couldn't place what made her stay the night, but she honestly couldn't remember any other impulse pulling her away from the wizard. She had just made herself comfortable and curled up without a care in the world.

What stuck her next was a sense of comfort and peace, immediately followed once again by shock and panic. She moved as she was prone to do when she was deep in thought, putting away some of the loose items around the room that they had dropped upon entry. What was she thinking? She had accomplished her goal in one mess of a mission and should now be on her way to a safe house to examine the goods and plot her next move. Yet her temptation lay in the exact opposite direction.

She barely had any interest in her main pursuit for the last month, instead she wanted to crawl back in bed and spend at least the next few days there with the man who made her feel safe. Her training and her history should have naturally repelled her to this option, yet here she was feeling protective and relaxed. As she finished putting Malark's boots near his bags, she realized she was even being domestic!

Before her thoughts could take her too far down the rabbit hole, she noticed her companion start to stir. Meira froze and found her attention was drawn to the way Malark had reached out to her side and pulled back empty air. She knew instinctively that he was stirred by the fact that she wasn't there. The wizard had started up from the bed, seemingly worried before catching sight of her and relaxing.

"Morning…. Or is it? How long have I been passed out? Did I wake you?" Half-asleep Malark seemed prone to rambling soft questions, but Meira found she didn't mind. Instead of answering immediately though she just returned to the bed and laid a comforting hand on his arm.

"You're fine, I just couldn't sleep with all the hubbub. You think after killing some sort of evil legend, the city would be grateful and keep it down a bit."

Malark chuckled, a low throaty sound that sent a thrill through Meira and immediately made her realize how little they both were wearing. Malark had discarded most of his burned clothes as soon as they had gotten back to the room and passed out immediately. She had similarly discarded her armor and breeches for a drier tunic and hadn't bothered with leggings over her smallclothes.

"Damn inconsiderate of them! I've half a mind to level the whole place! I don't suppose you managed to keep any of that dragon's breath eh?" Malark kept his eyes closed with a playful smile, leaning into her touch as she moved her hand gradually up and down, her eyes tracing over marks and old scars, looking for wounds from the night before.

"Yes, I like to keep my pouch full of things that almost kill me. That's called living dangerously, let me reach into my pockets and show you?" Though as soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them as he opened her eyes to look at her "pockets," they were immediately drawn to her bare legs. The way he was looking her up and down without any subtlety made her shiver up her spine.

Though his blood was clearly flowing now, he seemed to remain closer to sleep than wakefulness due to the exhausting battle. Rather than…. Pounce, Malark got out of bed, slowly walking past Meira and giving her an eyeful before bending down to his pack and grabbing his spell book. After rubbing his eyes once more Malark flipped through pages before he settled on a specific spell.

Meira but saw his hands trace a sort of sphere before pulling it outward but couldn't hear the incantation. In fact, many of the bustling city sounds seemed fainter as well and she realized that he had cast a sort of privacy charm. Malark then returned to bed just as slowly commenting. "Now that I've dulled the roar of those rude fellows, perhaps we could get some more rest."

As he motioned for her to return, Meira was torn between continuing teasing him or just settling down to relax. She ended up combining both and making a show of a slow, swaying walk to her side of the bed before copying his motion from before and bending down slowly towards her pack to grab a hairbrush. Sitting down on the bed facing away from her companion she slowly brushed out her hair before laying back down to without acknowledging him. Immediately she giggled playfully as she felt his arm reach out and pull her back against him, and then gasped when he copied her motion and starting to run his hands through her hair.

Immediately she felt all the tension and confusion and doubt give way and she knew exactly what she wanted next. After a few minutes of enjoying his hand in her hair Meira reached back suddenly and pulled his head in for a kiss. The first peck was short and playful, but it eliminated any sort of hesitation and rolled over on top of Malark and started kissing him with abandon. Meira felt her body on fire as hands roamed; his move from her hair down her sides and her legs while hers traced the lines of his shoulders and cupped his face.

But the playful mood hadn't quite left her yet and as he started to shift the position, she put a hand on his chest to stop him (though she let it linger there). "Hmmm that was fun, but…" She rolled over facing away from him again, putting her hand back to her hair. "keep spoiling me, I liked what you were doing before."

Malark grumbled a bit from behind her at being interrupted but had a smile on his face as he turned to play with her hair and was rewarded with several happy sounds of contentment and a delightful grinding motion under the sheets. As Meira relaxed more, her tunic started to slide over her shoulders and Malark was stroking her hair with both hands before his attention was drawn to her exposed back as a beam of sunlight shone on her shoulders.

"Huh, what's this?" Malark said as he touched a design between her shoulder blades.

The wizard had never seen Meira move quicker and sheets were scattered as she darted to her feet, leaning against the furniture pressed against the wall with her back turned to him completely. Fright and realization played on her face and she looked like she could flee out of the room at any moment.

Malark was not the most adept at interpersonal skills but he suspected he may have struck upon a sensitive subject. He sat up slowly, and sat in silence for some time, letting her catch her breath and not making any moves to stop her. He didn't want to show her pity or drive her away, and he spent some time thinking about what would be best to say. Malark looked at her and tried his best to use telepathy without magic….

"When I was younger, I knew my father, but I was never part of his family." She seemed surprise by the sudden topic change but welcomed it. "I was raised for one purpose and that was to be of use to the king he served. It wasn't much but it made me feel like I belonged to something bigger when I succeeded. I earned their trust and I was given a crew but…."

He didn't consciously break eye contact but found himself looking down at his hands. "There was a storm, and I didn't stop it. It was my job to stop it and I didn't. Looking back at that night, all I can feel is shame. I knew and served with those men, and the ones that survived called me a savior, but….. I could only see myself as a failure to my family. When they cast me out… it felt deserved."

Meira listened to his story and felt the tight grip she had on her fear and self-preservation start to slip away again. She knew without him saying it that he had opened up old wounds for her to feel less vulnerable. Somehow, he saw her shame and her doubt and understood it without judgement. Before she talked herself out of it, she turned around and stripped off her tunic, tossing it aside and pulling her hair out of the way. She was exposing herself in a way she avoided at all costs and it felt… terrible and cathartic at the same time.

"I was born in the Fay'ai….." the clan of assassins needed no further introduction. "I got out without finishing a job but…. It cost me everything. It cost me my family."

Violet eyes started to shed tears, and the jaded half-elf stopped trying to hold back her emotions. "I tried to change but I don't think I ever will. It's ugly and it's there forever and I hate it!"

Meira felt arms encircle her once more and trailed off into silent tears and let herself be comforted without worrying about what will happen next. Without conscious decisions, she ended up in his arms, sitting on the bed, being rocked gently back and forth with the sailor humming a sort of sea shanty. Eventually his hand made its way back to her hair. There were no more tears and no more hiding; Meira burrowed in closer and started to enjoy the feeling of being safe, without doubting or questioning it. Her partner had seen an ugly side of her and hadn't run away. That was a great start.

She didn't know if minutes or hours passed but eventually Meira came to the realization that his hand was still in her hair with his other was slowly tracing up her legs. The touches were slow enough to feel comforting, but the smooth repetition was awakening the mood from before all of her emotions spilled out.

The temptress in her was coming back and before she realized what was happening, she had switched from nuzzling his chest to kissing up his neck. Apparently, she found a sweet spot, because the hand in her hair went from light pets to an inadvertent tug on her hair. A sweet sort of pull that caused her to make a low guttural noise, stretch out and push them both back onto the bed.

A quick change in position found her back on top, completely exposed and unafraid. She knew from the look in his eyes that she was about to send them tumbling completely over the edge.

"This is me… all of me." She sat up proud, Violet eyes sparkling with affection, trust lust and the beginnings of something more. "Take it."

Malark happily complied.