Greeting the Morning, Together

[Lollercide]

A quick flash of lightning followed by a deep roaring thunder wakes Hano from his sleep within the Sundren Comfort. Groaning as his mind pieces together his surroundings and the pattering of rain, Hano recalls his location and the moments he had before slipping into slumber during the night. Hano notes that the fire in the fireplace must have died out sometime during the night, leaving only embers and ash while looking from the window to the fireplace.

Even then, the room was dimly lit by what morning sunlight could escape through the storm clouds and peek into the single unmasked window in their room. While Hano couldn't discern the time of day by the light alone, his well trained sleep schedule gave him a good sense of time and left him to believe he had at least a few minutes before he should get up.

Taking care to not disturb the feminine albeit muscular frame resting on top of him, Hano brings the back of his hand to his eyes and works the rheum from them with a circular rubbing motion. He then lowers his hand to wipe his mouth of any drool that might have escaped him during the night as well, but pauses when doing so as the cold silver of his ring presses against his skin and strikes up remembrance. He stares at the ring for a long moment and a smile crosses his lips.

"I'm not sure what the future holds for us, Tamryn. Whether we become separated by circumstances or even death and, even if by fortune, we are allowed to live long and peaceful lives in marriage -- It doesn't matter. I can live happily with any of the possible outcomes the future might bear, knowing that I embraced it alongside you," he speaks to Tamryn in a quiet whisper, knowing well that she is asleep.

Hano rests his right's index finger under her chin and begins tracing her lips with his thumb while he loses himself in thought. "...Whatever may come..." he speaks to only himself now as he decides it's time to get up. Suppressing a grunt, he attempts to lift Tamryn's frame from on top of him and gently set her to the side, so not to wake her. After doing so he slides out of bed and pads to the fireplace.

Taking a bucket of water left by Ol' Betty to douse the flames within the fireplace, Hano dips a rag in it and begins to wash the collective sweat, oils, and dead skin from his body -- A peasant ritual he was raised to practice every morning; product of his less than noble heritage that bled through his rather noble standing as a paladin from time to time. It was something Hano didn't care to hide though and especially not in the presence of Tamryn.

When finished, Hano wrings out the rag and takes the remaining water to douse the embers in the fireplace and begins his day.

[Raksha]

She woke slowly, eased out of sleep in a gentle fashion by the sound of rain pattering on the roof. A distant peal of thunder rolled through the room, reverberating for a moment in her chest before it died away.

Hano had gone, of course; he was due to rise early today. His presence still lingered around the bed. The air smelled of their two scents, mingled together, and she drew it in with a contented smile. Her eyes hadn't opened yet, and she was complacent enough to leave them closed for a few minutes of lazy comfort before the trials of a new day.

Other parts of her were not so late to rise.

Well, you've gone and done it now, haven't you? Tamryn. Tamara.

Tamryn turned over on the bed, hunched up with her knees to her chest. A hint of tension returned to her shoulders, muscles tensing that had been so relaxed just a moment ago... as they had been when she'd drifted to sleep in the arms of her fiancee last night.

You nudged him to propose... he did... and you accepted.

What were you thinking? But wait... that's a rhetorical question. We all already know. Don't we.

Her thoughts brought on restlessness, and her eyes snapped open. The room was still cool and dark, her armor piled next to the bed where she could see a pauldron poking out from underneath the cape she'd loosely tossed over it. The bare wooden walls glinted under the flickering light of the candle chandelier. Hano had probably lit it when he'd gone out... or perhaps they'd never bothered to extinguish it. Her memories of the previous night were considerably more focused on the man who'd presented her a ring.

It was, perhaps, an odd twist of fate that she had borne, and exchanged, a similar ring. Silver, set with a pair of semiprecious stones, imbued with magic and bearing the symbol of Tyr's scales. Functionally, the ring she had previously worn was identical.

But it wasn't. Tamryn lifted her right hand to her face, and her eyes blearily focused on the silver band. This ring... represented more. Represented a commitment to be wed. Represented hope, and a future together with a man that she had come to love...

And represents a distinct failure to learn from the past.

Her eyes squeezed shut again, but her thoughts were not so easily blocked out.

Alyrian, condemned to wander the land alone and broken, either as a Banite or a hunted outlaw, who shared in your love. Gareth, killed by the Eye of Fear and Flame because he shared in your love. Tes, later Joan, a rank traitor and priestess of Bane, who led you to darkness because she shared in your love. Jeshana, half-fiend, who fell to the machinations of her mother, and shared in your love. Kaldaris, blinded and crippled, who still lives but will always bear scars because he shared in your love.

With a soft sigh, Tamryn pushed herself up to a sitting position. Without her daily blessing of vigor, the stiffness and soreness weighed on her; brusing across her stomach and shoulders from zombies' clawing and biting at her armor, which would soon enough disappear. Her bare feet padded across the stone in front of the fire place, carrying her in front of the sofa, until she leaned on the windowsill.

Rain made abstract traceries and patterns across the cloudy glass. She could see, through the running droplets, a faint image of the city outside... the garden, and the lake running full with the precipitation... a few brave souls scurrying to and fro on the streets, braving the grey dawn and pouring rain to do their business.

And now, Hano. He already nearly fell to hatred because of your love. What else will happen to him? What will he do, and what will be done to him, because you had the temerity to extend your hand for that ring?

With a sigh, Tamryn unfastened the catch that held the window shut and let it drift open. A rush of cold, damp air touched her bare skin, but she did not shy from it. She barely felt it. One more gift that Torm had given her undeservedly, that day in the Spine...

Not especially caring if anyone should see her, she leaned out of the window and closed her eyes, letting the cold droplets splash on her head and shoulders, washing the last traces of sleep from her mind.

He's a symbol of hope... for the Temple, and for the entire land. More so than you ever could be, or will be. He's pure. Untainted. And yet he's sullying himself by association with you... and you welcome him gladly.

A drop fell in her eye, stinging, obscuring her vision. She didn't bother to blink.

And you think it can work.

...Maybe it can. But it is done now, regardless... you've promised to him, and fixed your feet on that path that so many times has led to disaster.

She turned away from the window, her feet carrying her back towards the pile of armor and gear by the bedside.

You will face whatever doom befalls you together, now... and there is no turning back.

For the first time since waking, a smile creased her lips.