[ Merrick's arm goes around her easily, pulling her in tight and rough against him, his hand curled around her shoulder. He holds her like he holds anything precious; with every part of him, somehow tenuous yet clinging for life.
There's a lot that could be said, but words typically aren't what he uses and she knows that. He kisses the top of her head, then lets her go so he can reach for the instrument again. ]
[ It strikes her again, as it does when the two of them are alone, just how sweet he really is. She hates that so few people can see this side of him, the side that holds her close and lets her ramble, and tells her it's going to be okay, not with words but with movements. He's not a rabid dog, she wants to scream, he's hurt and he's upset and if you treat him like a person, and not a rabid dog, than you can see that.
But sometimes, she's afraid that even Merrick doesn't realize just how good he is.
When he lets go, she moves in to give him a kiss on the cheek, nuzzling him gently. ]
[ Without another word he leans back, brings the guitar onto his lap and finds chords with unsure fingers. The instrument is big, made for a human. He has to push the strings down a little harder, adjust his arms a lot, but he gets it.
He just goes with a song he'd written while alone in the woods, since they could both go for a little reminder of home right about now. It's slow, calming. His voice is throaty, low, untrained and raw. ]
[ She backs off a little while he plays, to give him room to use his arms. After the first few notes, she closes her eyes, and lets the sound of the guitar and his voice wash over her. She visibly relaxes as the song winds on, tension flowing out of her muscles. The song was beautiful, and when she listened, she could picture herself back in the Free Marches, wandering the forest, testing her memory as she explored.
God, she missed the forest. She missed the clan.
She waited until Merrick was quite finished with the song to do anything. Once she was sure he was done, she leaned back over, but this time pressing her lips first to his cheek, then his lips. It was gentle and careful, and once she pulled away, she smiled at him, pressing her forehead to his temple. ]
You have the best singing voice I've ever heard, Merrick. You'd make any of these bards jealous.
[ Unlike Beleth, Merrick's affections are never soft and careful. He encircles her in his arms and tugs her roughly onto his lap, holding her very tightly. His lips touch her cheek and then her neck, each kiss just as enthusiastic as the last.
It isn't sexual, not really. Merrick kisses her playfully, easily. He plants them rapidly around her chest and collarbone and back up her neck, hoping to make her laugh. ]
[ Sure enough, it's not long until those enthusiastic kisses make her start to giggle, his unrestrained attentions so different from hers, but something she was incredibly fond of all the same. One arm escapes his grasp to loop around his neck, fingers twisting gently in his hair. Creators, his hair was soft. And pretty.
She squirmed in his lap, still giggling as she presses her lips to whatever part of his face she can reach, giving him little nuzzles when she can. ]
You know--You could always be a bard. One of the cool ones, that sing and stab people. You're good at both of those.
[ The fact that being one of those kinds of bards usually comes with being able to play the Game with some modicum of skill, as well as the knowledge that Merrick could probably handle the Game with the same grace as a cranky druffalo let loose in a ball, rather escapes her. ]
And deal with obnoxious nobles all day? I'd rather stick my head in a beehive.
[ The Game remains as foreign and distasteful to Merrick as some of the things humans called food at dinner-- Too rich, arranged on the plate in some fancy design as if it weren't about to be chewed into paste.
He grumbles, rubbing his face against her chest, to better show his disdain for the idea. ]
[ She laughs again, petting his hair. Yes, she feels your disdain, Merrick. It's terrible to handle.
Briefly, she wonders what it would be like, playing that Game--It sounds exciting in a strange, terrible way. She wasn't ready, but hadn't she been practicing her entire life for something like that? But now wasn't the time to pontificate on her potential to lie to stupid nobles. ]
Yeah, I do. Thanks, Merrick.
[ She gives him a kiss on the top of his head, then hesitates. He's so kind to her, helps her, and how rarely does she help him, aside from dragging him away from people? When she speaks, her voice is low, and serious. Intent. ]
Merrick, if this is what you want to do, this Inquisition, then I'll do it. I came this far with you. Wherever you go, if you want me there, I'll go too. I swear it to you, on Mythal's name.
[ Whatever she thinks about their relationship, he feels no such thing. Beleth helps soothe the fire inside him more than anyone else, even when she doesn't even realize she's doing it. He loves her, and he wishes she'd believe that instead of doubting herself all the damn time.
When she makes the promise, he doesn't argue with her. He'll respect any decision she makes with her full heart like that. He rubs his hands up and down her sides. ]
[ She curls up against him, pressing little kisses to his cheek and his jaw as her arms loosely loop around his waist. She does doubt herself, she doubts herself constantly, but Merrick...makes her feel better about it. She didn't feel like a pale imitation of someone else.
Maybe she soothes that fire because she takes a little bit of it inside of herself. ]
I know, Merrick. You're a good man. One of the best.
[ She rests her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. ]
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no subject
Date: 2015-11-04 05:12 am (UTC)There's a lot that could be said, but words typically aren't what he uses and she knows that. He kisses the top of her head, then lets her go so he can reach for the instrument again. ]
Want to hear a song?
no subject
Date: 2015-11-04 06:12 am (UTC)But sometimes, she's afraid that even Merrick doesn't realize just how good he is.
When he lets go, she moves in to give him a kiss on the cheek, nuzzling him gently. ]
Yes, I'd like that.
no subject
Date: 2015-11-06 05:35 am (UTC)He just goes with a song he'd written while alone in the woods, since they could both go for a little reminder of home right about now. It's slow, calming. His voice is throaty, low, untrained and raw. ]
no subject
Date: 2015-11-07 01:12 am (UTC)God, she missed the forest. She missed the clan.
She waited until Merrick was quite finished with the song to do anything. Once she was sure he was done, she leaned back over, but this time pressing her lips first to his cheek, then his lips. It was gentle and careful, and once she pulled away, she smiled at him, pressing her forehead to his temple. ]
You have the best singing voice I've ever heard, Merrick. You'd make any of these bards jealous.
...Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2015-11-07 08:27 am (UTC)It isn't sexual, not really. Merrick kisses her playfully, easily. He plants them rapidly around her chest and collarbone and back up her neck, hoping to make her laugh. ]
no subject
Date: 2015-11-08 11:01 am (UTC)She squirmed in his lap, still giggling as she presses her lips to whatever part of his face she can reach, giving him little nuzzles when she can. ]
You know--You could always be a bard. One of the cool ones, that sing and stab people. You're good at both of those.
[ The fact that being one of those kinds of bards usually comes with being able to play the Game with some modicum of skill, as well as the knowledge that Merrick could probably handle the Game with the same grace as a cranky druffalo let loose in a ball, rather escapes her. ]
no subject
Date: 2015-11-09 02:01 am (UTC)[ The Game remains as foreign and distasteful to Merrick as some of the things humans called food at dinner-- Too rich, arranged on the plate in some fancy design as if it weren't about to be chewed into paste.
He grumbles, rubbing his face against her chest, to better show his disdain for the idea. ]
Do you feel better?
no subject
Date: 2015-11-09 05:50 am (UTC)[ She laughs again, petting his hair. Yes, she feels your disdain, Merrick. It's terrible to handle.
Briefly, she wonders what it would be like, playing that Game--It sounds exciting in a strange, terrible way. She wasn't ready, but hadn't she been practicing her entire life for something like that? But now wasn't the time to pontificate on her potential to lie to stupid nobles. ]
Yeah, I do. Thanks, Merrick.
[ She gives him a kiss on the top of his head, then hesitates. He's so kind to her, helps her, and how rarely does she help him, aside from dragging him away from people? When she speaks, her voice is low, and serious. Intent. ]
Merrick, if this is what you want to do, this Inquisition, then I'll do it. I came this far with you. Wherever you go, if you want me there, I'll go too. I swear it to you, on Mythal's name.
no subject
Date: 2015-11-17 02:39 am (UTC)When she makes the promise, he doesn't argue with her. He'll respect any decision she makes with her full heart like that. He rubs his hands up and down her sides. ]
You know I'll never leave you either.
no subject
Date: 2015-11-18 10:32 am (UTC)Maybe she soothes that fire because she takes a little bit of it inside of herself. ]
I know, Merrick. You're a good man. One of the best.
[ She rests her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. ]
Not that I'm biased.