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[meteorrains]

[It seemed as if the world was spinning impossibly fast, twirling rapidly around it's axis in such a way that made time seem to move much quicker than average. Somehow, without truly realizing it as he had lived it, the entirely day had passed within the blink of an eye. Party after party, all which absolutely required his attendance. Each with a multitude of people who had not seen in years, all welcoming him home, all congratulating him on leading their army to victory. All praising him for managing to make it through a nasty war which had claimed many lives unscathed.

Learning that he was being gifted his own household located in the city as a present from his father had come just as dinner was about to begin, everyone raising a glass and cheering as the news was announced. He had nodded in acceptance, had thanked his father profusely for this grace and generosity, had listened to endless speeches of how lucky he was to have such a noble and wealthy family.

All he wanted in the entire world was a soft place to lay his head, to sleep knowing that peace had fallen over the land, that despite the previous years of suffering, he was finally safe.

Slipping his shoes off, he placed them upon the mat directly inside the door, closing it behind him and moving further into the house his father had chosen. It was well decorated, tasteful and bright, perfect for someone who would soon be searching for a wife. His chamber was easy enough to locate, the door slide back into place carefully. Each garment was peeled from his body slowly, until nothing the pants remained. Something cracked along his spine as he moved, muscled sore and stiff and for once, he wished he had stayed at his fathers estate. At least there he would be able to take a warm bath, or have one of his fathers servants message the area for him.

Sighing softly, he lifted a hand to rub gently at his neck, stretching slightly, before resuming the motion, trying to ease away the ache.]

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[lostheart]

[When he looked at her with that light in his eyes, the darkness and mischief and pleasure, she felt a long spool of silk suddenly unrolling in front of her feet into the shadows of the future. For just a moment, they were children again, conspiring over something, heads close, entirely devoted to the moment. And they were exactly who they were, a geisha and her warlord danna, the kind of alliance that could move entire countries and, in the past, sometimes had. It was the rustle of wings rising unseen and the simple pleasure of a well played joke. She felt it catch, in her chest and against her fingertips, and for the first time

she thought she felt a bit of what she had been told their arrangement could be.

It had the light sparkling up through the cherry shadow in her eyes and the very edges of her painted lips curling upward for him. She didn't take his praise lightly either. Cleverness counted for so much more than beauty to her. Being valued for her cleverness even more than that.

She heard the war in his voice next though and knew that her previous thoughts hadn't been off the mark. He was not comfortable in his civilian life and its new shackles. Not comfortable with his new place in things. How idle did his hands feel, without his sword or a horse's reins in them? Perhaps... she could find a way to give him other weapons... other enemies to fight...

there were certainly enough in the aristocratic world.]

Yes, lord. [A bow at his request, an affirmation that everything would be ready when he returned. His desires were simple to see through but she had a great deal to begin and, some of it, she hoped, would be far reaching. Seeing him for dinner, she found, was something that gave her a light to look forward to. It was a pleasant realization. Her eyes teased as she rose.]

Though if your father thinks he did a good job in choosing me, perhaps he would not be so disappointed if I was the reason you were not on time.

[meteorrains]

[Chances were, his father wouldn't mind overly much if he were to use her as an excuse for his tardiness. Unfortunately, that acceptance would also more than likely come along with a certain set of assumptions that he'd rather not give life or credence too.

And a great deal of his fathers own special brand of purportedly good natured teasing about how he had sampled the forbidden flower and how proud he was of his sons prowess and virility. Barely home a day and already following in his fathers footsteps and partaking in the servants.

He'd rather bare the brunt of his father's disappointment.

Lifting himself from his previous position, stretching almost without thought, long arms lifting above his head, a soft sigh releasing from his lifts as the movement eased sore, aching muscles.] My father thinks that all of his choices are good ones. Usually, he does not have quite this much success. [He was completely convinced, in fact, that choosing her had been one of the only truly good decisions his father had ever made, at least where his son was concerned.

Leaving the calming, playful presence she provided was already proving difficult. Moving on from her wit and intelligence and into a world ruled by who was most talented at manipulation and word play would prove even more so. But there was nothing that could be done for it, at least until he found a placement of his own among the aristocratic society he had returned to. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he would be given an office of his own, or offered a position training the new recruits who would be drafted to replace those who had been lost. Peace may have fallen over the land for the first time in decades, but that did not mean it would remain.

It would not stop those who sought power from invading, would not stop those who wished to destroy what had been built from trying. It was important to use this respite to prepare, to ensure the next generation wouldn't have to fight such long battles, wouldn't have to see so much death and pain and horror.

Dipping his head forward into a small nod, a show of respect that he offered to everyone, even those who were, by societies standards and technicalities, thought to be below him.] Until tonight, Willow.

[Voice quiet, words accompanied by a soft smile before he swept past her, calling out for his horse to be prepared and brought around as he went.]