Saetan dropped from the Green winds and entered the carriage waiting for him. As it rattled down the short distance to SaDiablo hall, he wringed his hands and adjusted the black ring on his finger over and over again. He was anxious to meet this woman who had agreed to bear his heir, who hadn't turned back when she found out who he was.
Finally, they slowed to a halt. Saetan flung open the door and purposefully strode through the entrance before Beale had a chance to reach for the carriage door's handle. "Andulvar!" Saetan roared, while entering his study and throwing off his cape.
There was an irritated grumble and the Warlord strode in, agitatedly stretching his wings. "You bellowed, Saetan?" He leaned against the wall and folded his arms in a way only a typically cocky Eyrien could under the glare Saetan was throwing him.
"I see you found it beneath you to let me know by some means that the woman had arrived earlier than expected? So instead of simply rescheduling my meeting with the Territory Queens of Dhemlan, I had to run out of there early to be here in time to dine with my guest?"
Andulvar sighed. "She looked tired, so I assumed she would request her dinner to eat in her room privately. How could I know she'd be up and ready to meet you in 2 hours? And so I didn't send a messenger to tell you to get yourself down here."
Saetan took off his jacket and donned a new one as fast he could while muttering all the Eyrien curses he knew.
Andulvar's smile widened with each. "So are you going to stand there and display your colourful language or go and meet your Lady?"
"You know there will be no marriage, Andulvar."
"I know, and so does she. Seemed right to put it that way, though," Andulvar raised his eyebrows. "I'll be having dinner down at my eyrie. See you in the morning. Oh and... best of luck." With a slight smirk on his face, he ducked through the door the moment Saetan's black jewel crackled with power.
Muttering, Saetan straightened and walked to the dining room. But curiosity overcame his annoyance as he turned the last corner and approached the door of the room.
She was standing at the window, looking out into the late twilight. But her eyes seemed to be looking beyond the dusk sky. She had the same colouring as any other Dhemlan witch- her skin tan and smooth, her hair raven black, and her eyes gold, but almost an ancient gold. She wasn't beautiful in the conventional sense- but Saetan had to admit she did posses beauty, just a somewhat different, morose one. She turned to face him and Saetan inclined his head with a small smile.
Her eyes remained unchanged for a moment, but then they softened and her mouth relaxed to return the smile. "High Lord."
Saetan gestured to a chair at the lightly laden dinner table. "Saetan," he corrected.
Tersa's smile turned almost shy, but Saetan noticed how the beautifully melancholy air of her remained.
As Beale entered to pour two glasses of sweet wine, Saetan cleared his throat. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting very long, I was misinformed of your arrival..."
"That is alright... Saetan," she said. Saetan liked the way she said his name, it seemed demure at first but had underlying curiousity. "I know you were busy with issues in Dhemlan. The Queens have been a bit demanding these past few months, haven't they?"
Saetan coughed slightly. "Indeed. I assume you know some of them, then?"
"No," Tersa answered simply, chewing slowly. Saetan waited patiently. "One can sense the tension sometimes, I suppose. Perhaps you may not fully feel it, as your jewel rank is so much above theirs, though." She looked down at her plate and swallowed with a little difficulty. "It was hard for me to sense and not dismiss the phsycic undertones of those with much lighter jewels, before they... before I..." her voice trailed away and she once more engaged herself in the food.
Saetan steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them, watching her. "If I could find and extract the debt of whoever stripped you of the Red, I would in a heartbeat," Saetan said gently. "I do, after all, have another title which is perhaps the least known, and it's perhaps best that it remains so."
Tersa met his eyes with her own. He could see that it wasn't fully gold as his own were, but had a ring of warm brown. "I accepted this offer knowing much about you. More than you give me credit for... Executioner."
Saetan straightened; Tersa didn't break eye contact. There was a slight tension in the air. Saetan realised he really didn't know enough about this woman at all.
Acknowledging her words with a slight inclination of his head, he reached for some fruit which had been brought in a fine bowl. When he looked up at her again, her previous calculated calm had been placed with that soft, vulnerably melancholy air again. She looked a little confused but seemed to gather her bearings, and reached for a desert.
Saetan held the vine of grapes thoughtfully. Andulvar had mentioned that sometimes she... came and went, somewhat, like this. One moment, a hint, a shadow of the formidable witch she must have been, then a return to her usual, distant state. Saetan once again felt a surge of anger for those responsible for reducing the former to the latter. But all he could do now was help her be comfortable with him.
She seemed comfortable enough when Saetan suggested the take their glasses to his study, and she seemed relatively content as they talked in the warmth of the large fire.
As the fire dimmed, Saetan leaned back and just watched her. The dying embers gave her face a soft glow. It made her almost look ethereal, but the colour added warmth to it. She looked up at his face, and there was a mutual understanding in her eyes. Saetan got up, and took her up to his bedroom.
The fire in here was dying too, as they had lost track of time as they talked. He had listened more, though. She had spoken of many things, both those insignificant and some that fascinated him, fascinated him regarding her very unique but refreshingly honest perspective of the world.
The room was warm, though the dark draperies and paintings made it look a little distinctly masculine. Tersa disappeared through the door which connected this bedroom with the room given to her to fetch her nightgown.
Saetan rekindled the fire a little, then removed his jacket, leaving the silk shirt. Walking over to a window, her pulled back the drapery and gazed outside. His room was a farthermost corner of SaDiablo Hall, and looked at hills and lands unenclosed in the Hall's territory. He liked to look in this direction, where a few small villages could be seen as little webs of light in the darkness.
He stood watching a while, then closed the drapery and sat on the bed. What could be taking her this long? Concern filled him as he walked towards the door and knocked, not getting an answer.
He walked in quietly, and saw Tersa sitting on the edge of the couch. She seemed not to notice him- maybe she really hadn't. She was staring at nothing and tears were pouring down her face.
Saetan hurriedly kneeled at her feet and held her face in his hands. "Tersa? What's the matter? Tersa!" Only then did her tear-filled eyes pull themselves away from some non-existential spot in the distance to meet Saetan's. Her lips moved softly. "I- I'm sorry, I-"
Saetan pulled her into his arms, whispering soothingly. He carried her back through the doorway and into his bedroom, setting her on the bed. She had only half put on a nightdress; it had fallen off her shoulder to expose her breasts, and she was shivering.
Saetan helped her arm through the sleeve, and buttoned it up. "Shh. Just rest. You've had a long day," he breathed, then stood up to add more kindling to the fire. Tersa was still shivering. When it was warm enough, Saetan approached her and tried to help her lie back, but could see at once her body was too tense to relax. He frowned, then approached the night stand on her side of the bed. Bits and pieces a woman may need nearby had been arranged in the drawers earlier. He opened one and took out a hairbrush.
Saetan got into bed, and pulled the covers up to their waists. Then, ever so gently, her helped her rest against him, and he slowly brushed her long, dark hair. It was wild and unpredictable, and he'd find stubborn knots or unexpectedly sleek and soft places. Somewhat like her, he thought. He could feel her putting more and more weight against him, and she slowly relaxed.
He set the brush aside and gently laid her down, then pulled the covers higher up. She stopped shivering, and opened her eyes blearily. "Saetan, I..."
Saetan stroke a strand of her off her face. "What you need now is a good night's sleep." When she tried to force her mouth to explain once again, Saetan rested a finger on them to silence her. She closed them then, and wearily closed her eyes too.
He traced her lips softly, then made sure the covers were warm around her. Only then did he allow himself to wearily rest too.