The Abbey

[Outisakanobody]

"It's a song, little one. A lullaby is a song to help you get to sleep." Grace says as she looks down on toddler. "Do you know who this Golo person is, Maria?" she asks then.

[rumsztyk]

Milo stares in disbelief at Charis before running after Francois, sometimes peeking back over his shoulder at the Vestal.

[twostepsback]

"Come visit anytime, Milo!" Charis calls after the retreating pair.

[Unter]

Francois leads Milo to a corner of the Abbey. He kneels to have his head at the level the young man's and look at his eyes intensively. "Now Milo, as your master I swear to protect you and to teach you whatever I can. Your past is of no importance to me, because it is God's plan that crossed our paths. But, you must swear to never lie to me, and I swear to never lie to you. Lie is a sin, and we must live the most pure way possible. You seems to have a hard past, but Gods forbids all who can follows his Will. This place is a test, if we fight good we will prove ourselves. Do you understand ?"

[Shinzon]

"Golo is a man who took care of little Mercy", answered Maria as she too wrapped an arm around the young child, giving her the brightest of smiles. "But I guess... I guess it's our job to do that now... isn't it?"
She turned toward Grace and gave her a hopeful gaze. When Mercy seemed saddened at her own inability to understand what a lullaby was, she felt a pang of sadness inside her. In a way, the former priestess desperately wanted to make sure the young child would get a brighter future than her... almost as much as she desired to mend the rift between Grace and herself.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

It was, indeed, yet another frightful parallel, it seemed, in their lives. Though, Blood noted his own good fortune in contrare` to Tilly's own rather vicious and unrelenting poor luck. Not but a few days ago had she lost her freshly ex-Lover, and now, it seemed her dearest friend was now fleeting as the wind.
In ways, he pitied her more than he pitied himself, despite their parallel.

The Ex-Lord couldn't imagine himself living long without Florence, realizing how central she was to his goals, it was rather frightening. He could hardly imagine how Tilly felt in this moment... He resolved to at least try and rebuild what bridge had been lost between Tilly and Grace; sometime later, of course.

He idly caught Tilly's hat, out of habit, as it slid off her scalp, holding it fast against her back as he pressed his cheek softly against her brow, humming: both in caring comfort, as well as due pensive thought.
"I remember." He assured her, with a soft squeeze about her shoulders, as he let himself bask in the weight of her set upon his chest. There was a vulnrable independance in her, that was rather curious and unique to the blonde haired rogue; he felt truly honored to be confidant to it all.

The nature of which, was inherent to any born leader; his mind drifted to a world where, perhaps, he hadn't been so daft as to wage a war to such a violent and punctual end. He would have liked to treat her to the luxuries of Nobility, enjoyed her advice and council. A perfect spymaster, he knew; she was damnably popular among all folk, despite her present slump in the department of friends... Yet, he knew many would know her name by mere happenstance.
And he knew the best daggers were hidden in the most apparent smiles.

It was a delightful fantasy, as he seemed to awaken from a groggy dream; they were no wellset Lords or Queens of lands, but simple mercenaries of rather proud repute.

A Wedding would be rather prudent in solidifiying friends and comrades to their well being. Many needed something to look forward to... It felt a bit dastardly to think of it so tactfully, but it was all that arose to his mind. There was no emotional desire for any grand affair, he knew the temporary nature of the ceremony. The true ties were made here, in the quiet whispers held close to eachother's breast.
His mind swam,
"She would make an excellent guest, I assure you." He mused, shrugging,
"I'm sure if we... construct some sort of--" The Ex-Lord hummed and broke away from their embrace; slipping his hands free to pluck at the elbow's of Tilly, doing his best to mimick a sort of marionette.
"-- Puppeteering device, we could make her look lively." He chuckled, letting go and sighing again...

"... Courcy is probably waiting for us..." He reminded somberly, as he pulled away, at last and let her take her hat. His own hands going to smooth out the collar of his cloak and pinched its hem, making sure he wasn't leaving anything behind around the bench they sat at.

//

[Vanitypirate]

It was fairly discombobulating, this mix of emotions, wrapped up close in the warmth of Lekalis. Before, she had found it difficult to imagine any time when she would be both sedated and worrysome, grieving and simultaneously elated, in the wake of one lover but in the arms of the second. Indeed, there was so much to lose, but so much to gain in the coming months-- she had already lost and gained much.
It was disorienting.

But there was no where she could go except forward.

"She'd likely hop to it, too." Tilly sighed, making to look as unenthusiastic as possible as he puppeteered her limp elbows; it proved difficult, as a smile broke her forcibly stony expression.
She was swift in plopping that hat back on her blonde head, fitting it on proper and ensuring that the tall crown of the cockel hat was righted up straight.

"She's your shadow; she'd pluck your nose-hairs with a big grin on her beak-face." She pinched the new object of her fidgeting on the tip of his nose and wiggled it between her two fingers, playfully, although the words were a touch more bitter than she'd intended them to be.

There was an irony in that Crowgazer, how she proved to be more loyal to Blood than a large proportion of Tilly's own companions to her. Although dogs were famed for their unwavering loyalty to their masters, too...

So much for loyalty, on Tilly's part. She rubbed her blonde, hatted brow,

"Oh, heavens, I hope she still isn't waiting on you..." She stood, perhaps a touch suddenly, as the fact of how little time they had left dawned on her; it was already dark out, and she, along with Blood, and Courcy, and that doctor and his slave, ought to be sleeping soon if they had any hope to withstand the expedition come tomorrow morning.
How odd it was, suddenly, that she had another entity thrust upon her to look after. No sane person would bring such a thing into a dungeon.

On the matter of entities she ought to look after: a brief glimpse around and a cursory pat at her hip had her remember that she'd left her satchel with Courcy, too.

"I hadn't realized-- we're running out of time." So she strode to the bathhouse door in brisk strides to pull open the door ahead of her Love,

"We gotta move."

[Kidney]

Mercy felt safe here, surrounded by two Mothers, and she found herself yawning in her blanket of holiness. She of course, fought this urge, but soon found that prospect nearly impossible with the warmth and comfort she felt at this moment. She looked up, "Sing me a wullabye..." She let her head fall against Grace, eyes fluttering, fighting sleep.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

He clucked his tongue and spoke with a touch too much earnest joy in his glibness, as he arose with her;
"Ah! She doesn't grin, only the constant..." He paused, looking for a word before looking to Tilly with as much neutrality as he could muster when he looked at such a face to make his heart melt a thousand times over.
"... Flat." He intoned starkly, before breaking into a smile and shrug,

"Much like your own breast." He chuckled, reaching out and uncouthly patting the respective part of her anatomy with a toothy grin. Lekalis did follow her eyes though, as they wandered her person and nodded astutely to her realization; she was missing her signature purse of rather fanciful designs
"Zoust, she was waiting; yes,she was..." He remarked half-heartedly, looking to her with some amusement as she seemed to run at the gallop of wagon drawn by twelve horses.

His eyes widened as she pranced off to the door, and he swiftly swept a hand through his hair, reaching out with his other;
"Wait, wait, wait!!!" He called out with sudden vim and fret, catching up to her just as the door began to pry itself open.

The outstretched hand slammed into the edge of it, and shut it with some excessive loudness; Lekalis took no pause in turning and curling his fingers under Tilly's chin before pulling her into a deeply set kiss. Delighting in the subtle nuances of her taste, the softness of her lips like petals upon his; despite their no doubt weathered and chapped nature.

Every touch only seemed to bring him higher. And it made the waning abyss ever deeper, he knew, with a dreadful blow to the gut. But he was willing to be Icarus, if these gentlest of touches were just the beginning. He knew, if she should perish, he would find naught to replace her; though he might find Love again, the passion and desire he held for her... Even his dearest Crowgazer couldn't match. It was as frightening as it was exciting.
He knew such whirlwinds of emotions were stirring in the Graverobber's mind, he could see it in her eyes. How lost he could get in them still, like a hedgerow maze amidst golden rays of the sun up high.

He only barely broke the kiss, rather, smiling into it as he spoke and then eased up his pressured hand on the door; his hand drifting down, none too abashedly over her chest,
"Just wanted that little moment..." He whispered cheekily, as he lightly bit at Tilly's lower lip and began to pull away. The flat of his palm momentarily pressing against her navel, his brown ever risen,
"... Just wanted to steal it from what little time we got. Think we could find a place tonight..? Quiet like...", how strange it was... To have what he'd thought impossible. Something of a pattern with Tilly, he knew. She was a woman who broke all of his "I Never"'s, and he loved it... It was maddening, how many dreams he'd made reality in just these two days, for all their darkened air. It was, indeed, a cruel and selfish dance that he was to find so much merriment in her misery. But he knew that she must be tasting at least a slice of what he still yet gorged upon. That boundless Lust and Love, a haze that fogged the oppressive dark and death of the Estate as a whole...

... His hand drifted out over her waist... Thumbing inbetween her flesh and undergarb, his eye tracing his movements before glancing up. His eyes widened momentarily in realization, and he pulled the hand up innocently.

"... To rest! Of course."
He clarified humbly, as he glanced to the barely opened door of the Bathhouse.


//

[rumsztyk]

Milo swallowed his growing uneasiness, looking deep into Francois' eyes. He questioned for a moment if the man was crazy - but even if he was, the intentions seemed pure. And thus, with resolve behind his words, Milo decided to dive head first into madness with this man.

"I do. I will not lie. I will prove myself." He spoke boldly with his head high, hopeful that this uncommon alliance will work out.

[Outisakanobody]

Grace flushed, and looked to Maria in a panic. "I...I cannot sing..." she says, clearly hoping the other vestal would be able to bale her out of this situation.

[Unter]

The grin on Francois' face transformed into a genuine smile. He pat the head of Milo's and said "I am proud of you, Milo. Now come, follow my lead. We're going to find you a sword. You can't be a proud squire with these." He pointed at the place where the shanks were attached. "This is not proper. And then, you're going to take a bath. A knight should always be clean and properly clothed. So, we're going to find you new ones, those rags won't do. This is your first lesson as a squire, always assure your appearance is good for the eye."

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly squinted at Lekalis in much-exaggerated offense at his admittedly off-color observation, pressing her mouth sternly in a straight line in a valiant effort to deliver a most disapproving expression.
It was not entirely successful, especially as her own self was palmed.

"You don't seem to min--" The robber had begun to tease, breaking into a smile as she gave a mocking waggle to her bony hips, obscured by the rather thick coat that draped down on either flank.
She stopped, then, as Lekalis rushed the door in a red flash, with the thunder of the door closing shut again. She had hardly registered the noise and the movements before his lips were upon hers, and she was warm again, his hand furled beneath her chin as gentle as a flower on the cusp of bloom, despite his haste-- albeit, not at all surprising, given his usual degree of care and manner.

Had she felt much guilt for it, it would have felt uncouth: to fall in with this man, this victim of Roderick's, to pledge herself to marry him before her lover-knight was even put in the ground, to share blood and curses and a family with whom Roderick was desperate to slay. It was tragically ironic.
It seemed that she had to remind herself more and more often that Roderick could have had this, too, had he left, had he listened.

She was happy, but he was dead. She felt quietly despicable for it, and knew others would share that same opinion... likely not as quietly.

But there was no amount of guilt, no threat of pariahdom severe enough, no curse fatal enough to change the way her breath caught in her throat when she spied his crimson-cloaked form, or how he warmed her better than any fire or liquor with his kiss.
It was amusing, Tilly realized, how she had fled from the prospect of marriage and courtship for so long, only to willingly embrace it now.

"You didn't have to wait until the very last second..."

She gave a small hum, a quiet chuckle, as she leaned her brow up against his, leaning into his touch, following almost embarrassingly as he pulled away ever so slightly. A noodle-y arm had wandered up and draped the crook of itself over Lekalis' shoulder, as if to further tether Tilly to him.

"I think your bitty sanctuary's quiet enough."

She took full advantage of her vantage, so close to him, to recount all the inky shades in his eyes, as if she could have forgotten from the last time she fell into his orbit. For once, the prospect of leaving his side-- feigning a mere platonic relationship simply for the sake of others-- was as welcomed by her as she would welcome leaving a cozy hearth to step outside into the cold.

Of course, there was still yet plenty of reason to abandon the hearth that all shared a simple trait in common:

A deadline.

And Tilly had deadlines upon deadlines: most pressing was the biological deadline that cared little for manmade concepts such as wealth, but there was also the threat of the finite patience of her compatriots, which she had already rested quite enough by excusing herself to this sermon-- which Tilly was, to her credit, quite lucky to have escaped to; she was verily grateful to have managed to evade the pokings and proddings of a doctorly sort such as Doctor Chandler during that nasal bloodying, and those equally bloody visions.

Tilly had only so much gold to spend before she would find herself just at the same spot she began at, those two long years ago; and her social situation threatened to repeat itself, too, what with the way she was going about tending to Grace and Courcy, the ways her other late companions had all drifted and faded.

This thought alone was enough to spur her into her typical, hasty action. But first...

Tilly gave him a brief peck on the lips, already making to shed the haze of love from her head.

"I love you." She told him, firmly, boldly, bereft of the prying eyes or listening ears of others.

Her hands, like snakes, curled fast about one of Blood's palms, and the other about the door as it readied to pull it open.

"I love you, but we can't dally much longer." Tilly told him sweetly, before, finally, pulling that door inward to allow their passage to the foyer, then to the Hamlet's square and across it to the tavern, in due time...

His hand in hers, she resumed her brisk strides and made to blitz right out of there with Blood in tow.

[Blood and Tilly leave for the tavern.]

[Shinzon]

Maria reassured her friend with a smile, and spoke in a relaxed tone. "I can try, Grace."
And with that, she closed her eyes, thinking way back to when she was a child.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I'm found.
Was blind, but now I see.
'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear,
The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come.
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.

When we've been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise,
Than when we first begun.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I'm found.
Was blind, but now I see.

Amazing grace, oh amazing grace,
That saved a wretch like me.
Oh amazing grace, amazing grace."

[Kidney]

Despite her best efforts, and her grand attempts at hearing the song through, Mercy fell asleep halfway through. Her big eyes falling down, eyelids closing as her little legs fell limp against the chest of Grace.