Ilithyia sat in the lounge, her feet draped over one arm of a chair, reading a book. It looked like a peaceful moment for her, and no one disturbed the solitude. However, she never once turned the pages, or moved her eyes from one word on the page. Love. It was all her mind could focus on, whether she had given away her innocence in love, or just lust and awe.

I said it, and I meant it... and Alstair did too. I think. Her gaze could have set the four letter word alight on the page, she was so transfixed by it. Why, why did I let myself go like that? My blood was up, but still, I should have known better. She hadn't seen him since that night, either. He'd been on patrol yesterday, she had been catching up on training. It had been a long, long day for her, and today hadn't been any better. To top it all off, she was unusually tired, though she blamed it on her brailing incident after the riot.

Putting the book down, she glared at her feet for awhile, without reason or provocation. She just wanted to glare.

"I have to see him today. Have to." She gritted her teeth, wondering why it hurt so bad not seeing him for the past day and a half. I miss him. The thought struck her suddenly, making her weak. I really do miss his presence. I like him, I love him, and I'm really not sure why. She might not believe every word that came out of is mouth, or know he was a madman, but she really needed him. Sighing, she untied her hair from it's bun and shook it loose; she had the day off for the most part, other than paperwork.

I hope he comes by soon... She wrung her hands, nervously awaiting Alstair's return.

Alstair entered the building with an arm held tight to his body. The shoulder muscles had started to get sore and it had been hell trying to ride that blasted Chroven back. He was happy though.

He may have been sore and in pain but he had fought someone worth while and had been lucky enough to stumble upon a dragoon after all these years.

She saw him enter, and suddenly was conflicted; should she talk to him, face rejection? Had he gotten all he wanted from her? Shuddering with too many years of mental abuse and demeaning mockery, she ached with indecision. Please, Alioe, I can't get hurt like that... sucking in a fearful breath, Ilyia stood and walked over to Alstair. Her hands were plastered to her sides, and she could barely force the air in and out of her lungs.

As she got closer, she saw how awkwardly he was holding his arm. He reeked of sweat and his field danced around him, a happy blaze. Although she wanted to be concerned, he obviously wasn't, so she tried not to look as confused as she felt. Inside, she was a mess of childish fear and hope.

"Mr- Alstair?" Her voice was hesitant but soft, and she placed a hand out, not sure what she could expect insofar as emotion went, but needing some kind of reassurance.

Alstair nodded as he tried stretching his arm. The muscles resisted and pain coursed through hi left side but he managed to at least extend the blasted thing.


"Yes Iylia?" He said slowly as he winced. "May I ask if you could help me with this blasted arm first. I took a nasty fall today and it is rather tender."

He knew lying was the last thing he should have done. But, in truth he imagined Deven and the others would like to not be talked about so openly amongst the seventen. Prying ears could very easily ascertain the tenuous links to their time in Mugroba.

"Oh, of course!" She didn't believe a word of it. She knew him at least well enough to know his honest face, and the face he turned to the rest of the world. However, it gave her some hope; he'll tell me when we're alone, and he's ready.

"Pease, come into the lounge. I'll get it all fixed up for you." Now that her fears were momentarily resolved, she wanted to have him alone, where she could kiss him and feel him and show him exactly how much she had missed him...

But first things first. Sitting Alstair down, she looked at the arm, and after giving it a brisk rub and stretching it slowly, cast a healing spell, hoping tat the preparation would make the healing more complete. I need to learn high lever spells. If I am going to be the queen of a revolution, I'll need more power than I have now. Running her hands down Alstair's arm, it was supposed to look like she was checking to see if the mona took, however, she just wanted to feel him under her hands again.

For only a brief moment, almost imperceptibly, the mona buzzed with hesitance. It was so subtle as to go unnoticed by Ilithyia, who was intent enough with heartfelt intentions on Alstair. For him, however, the strange buzz could be felt as an uncomfortable burning sensation as he heal spell began to work. It was as if the mona was unhappy with his untruth, but he couldn't be sure. The heat subsided into the more familiar ache of knitting muscles as the spell worked in his flesh without further resistance.

At first startled by the mona's reaction Alstair did his best to hide the searing sensation that filled his arm. Though no master of living magic he knew that could not be right.

"Thank you Ilyia." He said as he open and closed his hand searching out any extra sign of more pain. "Now. What was it you were going to say?"

Now that he was all fixed (something she was rather proud of; she had healed her man), Ilithyia couldn't help it. With the barest of cursory glances for intruders, she leaned in and kissed Alstair, squarely on the lips, leaning over his sitting form. And it wasn't a peck, either. It felt good to kiss him, somehow very right. She enjoyed it so much she did it a second time, one hand caressing his cheek.

However, after her momentary lapse in judgment she took a seat beside him, her hand still alighting over his but less distracted than previously. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she leaned forward, alertly interested.

"I just wanted to talk to you," she grinned, "but I wasn't sure when you would next have the chance. So I waited." Her fears bloomed in her chest, but she fought them down. He wasn't going to hurt her like that. He couldn't. Well, then, tell me the truth or tell me where I can go to find out.

Alstair nodded as h glanced about.

"A fair enough excuse. I believe then we should find a more comfortable place to have a conversation." He said slyly. "Perhaps where we first began our talks?"

He knew there was more to her question than she would openly admit too. In truth he was more than happy to oblige her hidden intentions.

Her blood started thrumming at the smirk on his face. No, he must mean treason. It's only reasonable. I WANT MORE THAN TREASON! Ilyia shook her head, clearing away those thoughts. Whenever Alstair was around, she could barely see straight, let alone think.

Running a hand over her flushed face, she had to fight the urge to kiss him again. Although supposed to be thinking about a place to be revolutionary, she just wanted to be alone. Memory surged, and she made a decision she hoped would be agreeable.

"Paper Tiger? It's the usual spot for these kinds of... discussions." And it has private rooms, which would be a little bit more agreeable to my current state of mind. She punctuated her speech with a gentle caress to his shoulder, fingers moving from collar bone to the nape of his neck.

"As always." He said with a smile. "I think a private room may be order as well." He could feel the fires of youth stoking themselves within him.

"So shall we be going then?" He said slipping an arm around Ilythia's waist.

His arm around her waist sent shivers up and down her body, and her eyes fluttered involuntarily. Mm. I like this feeling. It looks like we're on the same page on this one, at last. Moving slightly, she whispered into his ear, eyes smoldering.

"Perfect." Planning... could wait. Right now, she wanted out of these damned uniforms. Leaning into his side, she nuzzled his cheek, one hand running lightly through his hair. The walk to the Paper Tiger would be very, very long indeed.

She let him lead her through the hall, not caring who saw. She had never had a 'someone' before, and Alioe be damned if she was going to hide it. She ought to have reminded him of his fears for her safety, that being openly romantic put her in danger. Yet even though the alarm bells went off in her head, she didn't care. She wanted this, this moment in the sun, where she didn't have to hide.

Alstair nodded as he thought back to the first night he had rode in and had found Dom withing the Paper Tiger. It seemed as if that small inn was the keystone to so many of his endeavors.

"Shall we be going then?" He asked pleasantly."If you wish to change you may. I myself will stay in uniform, I would prefer to be seen as I am in truth."

((How about we turn this into the reincarnation of the other Paper Tiger thread? Where we decide what happens to Nauleth's family, and I can start setting up for the pseudo-assassination, and only change that has to be made is in the lit thread's timestamp. Cool with everyone?))

She was tempted to wear her new mugrobi dress, the one she'd had altered by Fion. It seemed frivolous, but it was the weekend. She could afford to be a little extravagant. And I think you'll like it, Mr. Murdoh. With a grin, she pulled away from Alstair, eyes flashing.

"I'll be back in a moment then." She didn't rush to the women's side, she didn't hurry to her bunk, but nonetheless she moved quick. Stripping out of her uniform, she unceremoniously dumped it on her bed and slithered into the dress, luxuriating in the silky, exotic texture of the fabric for a moment before finally lacing up the side. Ilyia pulled the neckline up, blushing at her own willingness to be risque. Well, you only live once, and I'm young.

Slipping on some soft boots, she quickly brushed out her hair and after a cursory look at herself in the mirror, strolled out of the wing and into the hall.

"Ready, then, Alstair?"

Alstair nodded and moved to hold the door open for Ilythia to exit.

"you look stunning. Tell me is that dress from Mugroba?" he said quietly. His voice smooth as he eyed her with an approving look.

Ilyia blushed, smoothing her skirt with one hand while she was led away with the other. He made her so... so... well. He made her feel her entirely chaste years like shackles that could only be removed by expirience. Lots of expirience. "Yes, I bought it from a merchant from this area, and I got it tailored at a dressmakers shop." She smiled, and tossing her hair, leaned into him a little, purring.

"I take that you like it on me?" Her lips brushed the farthest edge of his ear, voice soft and sultry, hand on his arm easily caressing though the uniform tunic. She knew she only had awhile to herself today before paperwork called her again, but she planned on enjoying the afternoon while she could.

Chills coursed through Alstair's body as Ilythia brushed against him. Clearing his throat and nodding he proffered and steady arm even as he fought the urge to eye her with a lecherous stare.

"Yes. Quite." he said quickly as looked out into the street.

Internally she paused. Well, I guess we are in public. But still. I don't deserve the brush off. Touching her hair, she leaned a little ways from him, giving him some space.

The walk to the Paper Tiger continued in relative silence, Ilyia trying to get a handle on herself. Well, he may just prefer to talk treason to begin with; I can understand that... Nonetheless, she was once again awkward and unsure.

Alstair felt out of his element. He was not used to having a girl upon his arm nor was he at all comfortable with the fact he could easily be ambushed...at any rate as they approached the paper tiger he let out a mental sigh of relief. At least within there he could relax.

Silently he opened the door with a polite bow. Holding it open for Ilythia.

"ladies first." He said politely as he shoved thoughts of what must be beneath that dress out of his mind...

The Paper Tiger's recurring appearance in her life was as amusing to Ilithyia as the idea that she always seemed to be here when things got rough. Sighing again, she look at Alstair. She still wanted it. She couldn't lie to herself. Maybe he'll loosen up. If he didn't... well, disappointment wasn't the worst feeling in the world.

The typical exchange was made, though Ilyia paid no heed to it. She was at once wondering when he would tell her about the injury, about his newest plans... and if she was going to be able to enjoy her afternoon.