Clara
*The sun couldn't have been more hated as it crept up on the bodies of the two, both fast asleep. For the first time in a decade, Edvard was fast asleep, nestled in the firm embrace of Faelyth. To retread on past events, Edvard felt at home, cuddling softly into the warm grasp of the woman in front of him. Both of them had their arms wrapped firmly around each other, seemingly holding on for dear life. As if both never wanted this moment to end. And they likely didn't. Edvard certainly didn't. He hadn't felt this lovely in decades. He hadn't felt this much love in his heart since he was a boy. He dreamed an infinite dream as the two slept, completely knocking out an entire day's worth of time. He imagined his whole life with Faelyth. It was perfection entirely. Not a single dreary moment. Smiles of gold and honey all around. He could feel the luck in the air as if it were a pestilence raging through the room.*

*The sun slowly made it's way through the papered windows of the inn, casting it's firm and scorching rays onto Edvard almost entirely. His body seemed to shield Faelyth from the violent solar tempest entirely. A bonus of shacking up with a huge man, right? The rays of the sun seemed to pry their way into Edvard's eye-lids, slowly but surely coaxing him to wake up. Just as he was getting ready to watch Faelyth walk down the aisle in his dream, he was awoken, snapping back to reality in an instant. He was disappointed for a moment, but only for a moment. Reality wasn't half bad. He stared towards Faelyth, an infinite smile growing on his face. Grikta had truly blessed him. How lucky was he? To be laying next to her. To wake up next to her. It was... Wonderful. Truly.*

*Slowly, he wrenched his hand away from her body, slowly bring it up to her face. In a similar manner to her signature move, he pressed his hand against her cheek, using his thumb to move any loose strands of hair from her face. He wanted to see her completely. His eyes caught her closed eyelids, prompting him to let out a loose, yet audible chuckle. Slowly, his thoughts were caught by his vocal chords, and a few soft words left his mouth.* "Wake up, Fae." *He said, smiling wide. His wife used to call him Ed. He always liked the nickname. He thought she might like it too. He continued to stare towards her, his mind fixated on her visage. Eventually, he gave a soft sigh before leaning forward, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He thought it might jolt her awake better than his words ever could.*
Eileen
*Ah, the life of an assassin; for one never truly falls asleep.*

As she drifted off the night before, Faelyth had slept better than she had in years. More than a handful, mind you. No, this was not sleep it was slumber, but all those years of training and being taught in the ways of the Sisterhood weren't for nothing. The moment Edvard began to stir, Faelyth awoke. She remained still however, curious of what the knight would do. Would he leave like every other did when they were finished with her? She supposed the others didn't only lay with her, so at least Edvard had that going for him. Still, Faelyth was used to her partners leaving once they had gotten what they wanted out of her. Fearing the worst, she was suprised when Edvard remained beside her, not leaving the bed they shared after being well awake.

Through the night, Faelyth dreamed for the first time since she was seven years old. All others since were nothing but nightmares. It was why she gave her body to the night, consumed alcohol on a daily basis and lived in seclusion. She was terrified of the nightmares that haunted her soul. While Edvard dreamt of Faelyth, she instead dreamt of her mother and father, back in their family home in Lazaroth. She was seven once more, celebrating her eighth birthday with her parents. It had to be a dream of course, but even in her sleep Faelyth prayed for Elutharios to whisk her away to this place, and let her live in happiness with them for the rest of eternity. It would ever be however, as the morning came whether she wanted it to or not.

_ _
Another dream visited the dark elf's mind, and this time it was of Edvard. She was introducing him to her father and mother, the two approving of him as a knight and man of honor. Faelyth knew this to be true. Her father would have wanted nothing less for his only daughter, and perhaps her mother would have appreciated the way he made Fae smile. Now, smiling was in short supply in the dark elf's life, at least that of a genuine nature. Faelyth lay in silence, in bliss of the dreams that had kissed her mind. Thanking Elutharios silently, the hand that brushed against her face was yet another surprise. *Edvard had no intention of leaving her, not like the others.*

The knight's soft words reached the resting dark elf's ears, and as hard as she tried she simply couldn't help but smile. The kiss however forced her different colored eyes open to see the man's chin in front of them. The kiss was soft, and one she had never experienced before. Nevertheless, she lay welcoming it happily. Looking up at Edvard as he pulled away, Faelyth let out a yawn. "I'm awake, I'm awake." Sitting up, Faelyth stretched her arms forward with a groan of content. Eyeing the knight curiously, dreaded realizations washed over her as quickly as she had fallen asleep the night before.

*A murderer had fallen for a man of the law.*
Clara
*Edvard stared longingly into Faelyth's eyes, inevitable scoff-like giggles escaping his he nostrils as she made her way up. He felt pure happiness. He'd never shared a moment like this before. Not with anyone. Not even his wife. He had loved her more than anything at the time, but he knew she had only married him for the suit of armor. Sure, she loved him, but she didn't want him. She wanted the glory the wife of a knight held. She wanted to wield that same power and honor Edvard carried with him everywhere he went without ever bearing the consequences. He loved his wife, and he knew she loved him, but he didn't quite know if it was because of the man he was behind the plate or the plate itself. Faelyth, on the other hand. Faelyth knew who he was. They were directly opposed after all. Yet... Here she sat. Loving him all the same. He grinned from ear to ear as he sat up, leaning against the head-board with a sigh.*

*He felt that same realization she did, but he took his far more bluntly. He thought it strange to fall for a murderer. Especially as a knight. But he didn't care. If all the 'honorable' soldiers of this world were all egomaniacal fools with god complexes and hatred for those below them, why wouldn't he find himself in the company of a murderer? Especially one who treated him like a human. He still rolled the name around on his tongue. Edvard the Kind. Edvard the Humble. It was in stark contrast to Edvard the Coward, wasn't it? It brought him something he desperately needed. Confidence. He had the split-second confidence to stand up to Winrae. Hell, he even had the confidence to stand up to a god. But the confidence faded away soon afterwards, leaving Edvard another crying wreck. Faelyth made him realize who he was, and that he was capable of being respected. He just had to earn it.*

*And earn it he would.*

*But first, he remained in bed, his smile persistent. He turned back to Faelyth, studying her eyes for a moment. Those two beautiful colored pearls embedded deep within her visage. Yet, behind them, he thought he could see a twinge of regret. Perhaps it was shock. He didn't quite know. But he saw it all the same. He felt it. That same realization he had. Only, hers seemed to hit harder. He recoiled an inch or two, his face growing with worry. He wasn't quite sure what to do. He felt scared once again. He longed for that security she offered. That homely feeling she provided. It was all about her. With an expression of distraught emotion on his face, Edvard reached outwards, bring his hand to her face again. Quickly, yet carefully, he tilted her gaze to his, before leaning in, passionately kissing her. He didn't quite know if it was the right thing to do, but his heart fluttered wildly as he did so. In that moment, once more, he felt infinite. Indestructible. Invincible. And hopelessly in love with a hired assassin. It was perfect for a comedy.*

*But this was reality, wasn't it?*
Eileen
Truth be told, the dark elf was worried of the outcome of their partnership. The Sisterhood would never allow Faelyth to be with Edvard, and his kingdom would never allow Edvard to be with Faelyth. They'd have to be together in secrecy or flee but- Faelyth did not know if she could bring herself to run from the Sisterhood. It was her life, her reason for living. That was the look of worry that covered her face, but when she turned to look at Edvard his lips had pressed against her own. Widening her eyes, Faelyth threw her hands to the knight's chest, pressing against it gently. While she didn't necessarily push him away, there was obvious immediately resistance, if only out of sheer surprise. After a moment however, she allowed it, crashing her own lips into his.

Pushing the knight back, Faelyth refused to let her lips leave Edvard's while she climbed atop him. Perhaps this was all a bit rushed, but the dark elf cared not. The feeling that swelled in her heart and mind each time Edvard looked at her was too much to give up. He was a drug, and Faelyth was on life support for another fix. Now in the poor man's lap, Faelyth couldn't stop herself from pulling the knight's shirt open and placing her still gloved hands upon it. Oh how she wished she had remembered to remove them the night before. With a huff, Faelyth pulled away but only for a moment to breathe. Colliding her lips into his yet again, the assassin couldn't stop herself. *At least for the moment.*
Clara
*Edvard's mind seemed to go entirely blank as the situation progressed. It was an escalation of escalations, and one Edvard truly didn't expect. His mind twirled in passion and pleasure as he was pushed back into the bed, his continually colliding with Faelyth's. He had dreamed of this moment. Even all those nights ago. When he was far too proud to share a bed with Faelyth. Now, here he lay. Faelyth had chosen him, it seemed. Chosen him to be hers. He didn't want to breathe. He only wanted her. He continually felt his body move on it's own volition, lifting and colliding with Faelyth's multiple times in a struggle for position. He wasn't thinking. That much was obvious. He shot his hands up towards Faelyth, clawing at her in some mindless attempt at bringing himself closer to her. As their lips pressed together once more, however, a light seemed to fill the darkness of his mind. The intensity he once shared with the woman dissipated immediately, and he brought himself upright, grabbing onto Faelyth's wrists. He held firm control over the elf, continually kissing her before finally pulling back, offering calm, yet solemn smile.*

"Faelyth, I-" *He didn't really know what to say. He simply sat there for a few moments, his gaze as saddened and disappointed as hers. He brought himself forward to kiss her once again, but not with the same intensity as the last ones. It was deep and calm this time. It wasn't mean to symbolize some type of sexual want or arousal, but a deeper love that brewed inside of him. Something that mattered more. Something that mattered a lot more. He slowly pulled himself back, finally letting go of her wrists. He brought his hands to the back of her head, bringing her close to him as she had done earlier. He tried to envelop her in a hug, holding her head to his chest as he rested his chin atop it, whispering sweet and calm words.* "It's okay, don't worry. It's okay." *He repeated a few times, brushing his thumb through her beautiful hair.*

*Slowly, Edvard moved his hands down to her cheeks, bringing her back out to face him entirely. He stared deeply into her eyes, his solemn yet loving gaze meeting hers intently. There was no sorrow, pain, or disgust in his gaze. Only love. Leaning forward, he moved to kiss her on the forehead, continuing to hold her close as a single tear fell from his eye. He cleared his throat softly before he spoke, trying his best not to stumble on his words.* "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met, Faelyth. In all the realms. None hold a candle to you. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, courageous, and caring woman I've ever met. You've made me feel like a king tonight. But we can't do this. I'm... I'm sorry. You said it yourself. You pursued me because I turned you down. I didn't do it because I found you unattractive or annoying, I did it because I saw something in you. Something valuable. Something that I could never find if I just fucked you on some strange night. It's... You. I saw you."

*Another tear began to roll down his cheek as he continued, smiling silently.* "I didn't kiss you because I wanted to bed you. I kissed you because I love you. You've done something to me that no-one else has ever done. You've made me fall for you. You've made me love you. Trust me when I say I never want to leave your side. But we can't just... Do this. You used sex as a defense mechanism. As a way to forget about your troubles. I'm here now, Faelyth. You don't have to hide from me. I want to help you, not hide you. I'll be with you, always. I promise." *He choked on his words, before finally finding the right thing to do. He leaned in a final time, kissing her once again, matching that passion and feeling that was present in their first.*

"You aren't just another pretty woman I want to bed. You're Faelyth. You're the woman I love. You mean more to me than this. So much more."
Eileen
*Run, Faelyth.*

Thousands of voices screamed at her the moment Edvard stopped her advances. She had ruined it by throwing herself at him, but could anyone blame her for believing it was the obvious next course of action? Feeling her movement be restricted by Edvard's hands around her wrists, Faelyth's eyes were wide with what looked to be a combination of both terror and misunderstanding. Was he angry with her? No, his words said otherwise. Was it sympathy then? Tugging her arms away from him, Faelyth felt wrong. Something was off, and before he could pull her back she shot up from the bed. Running her hands through her hair, the dark elf began to breathe heavily, as though panic were setting in. What was she doing here?

The more Edvard talked, the less calm she seemed to become. Speaking of her beauty, of love. Love born of a single night. This was nothing like the fairy tales she remembered from her childhood, of a knight sweeping her off her feet into happily ever after. Yes Edvard was a knight, and her feet were thousands of leagues off the ground but yet here she was, feeling buried beneath a wave of emotions she had never felt or experienced before. Guilt, shame, humiliation were just the first few to come to mind. Who was she to blindly throw herself at Edvard? The more the poor knight spoke, the less Faelyth wished to hear. Edvard was bringing up her darkest demons, her defense crumbled like stale bread to the floor. Sure, he had solved her, but far too soon. After all, they barely knew one another.

_ _
Without looking to Edvard, Faelyth wrapped her hands around herself, terrified to even move. To speak or breathe, even. *'Run. Run, Faelyth. Please, just run.'* Her mind was screaming at her, pleading with her to flee from these strange feelings. Was love meant to be so sudden? Feeling Edvard reach for her again, she quickly pulled away. He'd likely never catch her no matter how much he tried, and before long she turned around, now a good few feet away from his reach. There she stood, eyes terrified but in a way neither of them could understand. The dark elf's heart pounded out of her chest, and it almost felt as though it would burst from her body and run away for her. Through her pants of panic, Faelyth swallowed, her mouth dry from breathing so hard. Then, after a long moment of silence she finally spoke.

"This- I cannot do this, Edvard." Any movement Edvard made meant another step back, but Faelyth continued anyways through a panicked voice. "This was not meant to be. *We* Are not meant to be." Shaking her head, it was obvious the panic was making decisions for her. Raised from a young age, Faelyth put her safety first, and that meant mentally as well. She could not afford to love a knight. Not now, not ever. Not if she wished to continue her life as a Sister. Finally, Faelyth's eyes met Edvards. Her head trembled as she shook it ever so slightly, her eyes screaming thousands of apologies toward the man she had spent the night with. Deep down, she wished to climb into his chest and remain their ever more, the safety he had coursed through her veins a greater drug than any she'd ever tried in her life. But, her flight or fight response had kicked in, and she simply couldn't bring herself to stay.

_ _
"I- I cannot love you, Edvard." Without another word, she turned and made for the door. Throwing her hood over her head, tears began to swell in her eyes. *'Run fast, run hard. Run home, Faelyth.'* Slamming the door open to their room, Faelyth cared not for the sour look the same barkeep gave her for causing yet another disturbance. Quick on her feet, tears began to fall freely for the first time in dozens of years. These tears would slow her down to be sure, as the assassin's vision grew blurry with them. Once near the door to the tavern, she burst through it, the sun blinding her eyes even more so. She had to flee, for she feared what would happen if she didn't.

How could Faelyth be so blind? She should have realized the night before a love of their kind would never last, so why bother in the first place? He was a knight, she? A *Murderer.* For even allowing Faelyth to walk freely, knowing what she was would be enough to charge poor Edvard with treason. He was betraying his oath, and by extension, Faelyth would betray him by staying at his side and allowing their love to persist. Was that what she felt? Right now in the current moment, all Faelyth could feel was a terrible pain in her chest, one that felt terrifying similar to a feeling she had 90 years ago. No, she would not re-live it. Faelyth would never grow close enough to anyone to feel such pain again.

*Ever.*
Clara
**"You."**

*Edvard sat stoically on the bed, alone. In front of him stood the flame. The flame of the lamp. The once calm and composed knight jumped to his feet, ripping his sword from it's sheath as he stared down the flame, his eyes bursting red with rage. He wasted no time. The flame darted around the room, and where ever it went, Edvard's blade followed. His voice boomed through and outside of the inn, all could hear his cries. All of Lerwick. All of Alynthi. All of the realm. All of the gods.* 

**"DELIVER UNTO ME YOUR JUSTICE, O CURSED FLAME! DELIVER UNTO ME AS YOU HAVE DONE SO IN THE PAST! DELIVER UNTO ME AS YOU HAVE CURSED ME IN THE YEARS PRIOR! YOU DRIVE ME FROM MY HOME, YOU DRIVE MY LOVED ONES TO THEIR DEATHS, YOU DRIVE MY ONLY MASTER TO AN EARLY GRAVE AND YOU DRIVE HIS GREATEST COMRADE TO HIS DEATH BED! YOU DRIVE THOSE I AM MEANT TO RELY ON TO EGOTISTICAL BULLSHIT! AND YOU DRIVE ME TO LOVE! YOU DRIVE ME TO LOVE AGAIN! YOU MADE ME LOVE AGAIN! YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'LL TEAR DOWN THE HEAVENS! I'LL KILL YOU! I SWEAR ON IT! I SWEAR ON ALL I HAVE EVER HELD DEAR! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU DROVE HER FROM MY ARMS! I FELT SAFE! I FELT ALIVE! I FELT AT HOME! AND YOU DESTROYED IT! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! YOU SIT ON YOUR THRONE OF FIRE AND GOLD AND YOU CAST YOUR WICKED JUDGEMENT UPON ME! YOU TORMENT ME! ONLY ME! I AM THE ONLY ONE TO INCUR YOUR WRATH!"**

*Edvard continued to slash at the flame, his rage blinding him to the fact that room around him was falling apart. Pieces of wood seemed to collapse around him, the roof nearly caved in itself as the wooden beams keeping it in placed were hacked away and slashed at. The bed itself crumpled to the floor like a wounded dog, and all of the candles in the room were immediately snuffed out by the frightening, yet quick terror of his blade. He swung the longsword like an axe, aiming to slash at the fire. The lamp continued to move, taunting his every move. He only kept screaming. He only kept crying. His lungs felt as if they were to tear to pieces, but he kept going. He never stopped.* **"I PRAYED FOR YEARS! I BELIEVED IN YOU! YOU SAVED ME FROM DEATH! YOU STILL SAVE ME FROM DEATH! YET YOU MAKE LIFE TORMENT! I SOUGHT COMFORT IN THE ARMS OF ANOTHER GOD AND YOU BESEECHED ME! YOU CLAIMED FALSE BLASPHEMEY! YOU CAST ME FROM MY HOME! MY WIFE! I FINALLY MOVE ON, I FINALLY ACCEPT MYSELF, AND YOU COME AGAIN! AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN! YOU NEVER FUCKING LEAVE! YOU BASTARD! KILL ME! JUST FUCKING KILL ME! STRIKE ME DOWN AND END IT ALL! END THIS SUFFERING! THIS HORRIFIC GAME SHALL PLAY NO LONGER! I WILL NOT BOW TO YOUR FLAME! BURN ME! BURN ME AT THE PYRE! JUST PLEASE! END IT ALL! PLEASE! I'M BEGGING!**

*Edvard fell to his knees, his sword slamming into the floorboards one final time. The fire was never truly there. Now, he simply stood by himself, surrounded by the aftermath of his rage. The room around him was completely obliterated. Every piece of craftmanship left destitute and broken. Hundreds of coins in damages. He knew he could pay it, but it wasn't about that anymore. His heart sank deep into his chest, struck with the black poison of grief. He threw his sword away, not even daring to watch as it clattered against a piece of rubble. He screamed as he cried. He wouldn't stop crying. For years, it felt. Millennia spent shedding tears. Tears of Ser Hastings. Tears of The Hewman. Tears of Winrae. Tears of Rikard. And tears of Faelyth. His arms seemed to wrap around himself, as if the knight tried consoling himself by imagining her embrace. He could still hear her voice, as sweet as honey. He was Edvard the Kind. Edvard the Humble. Wasn't he? Through blurred tears, he gazed back at the room around him. No. He wasn't. He cried as he brought his hands together, and he cried as he prayed.*

*"Please save me. Please. I'm no man anymore. I'm just a child. I'm scared. I'm alone. I need help. I don't know what to do. She's gone. Just like everyone else. They always leave. Grikta, please. I aim to serve you. I want nothing else. I don't want redemption. I don't want my assured safety. I don't want luck. I just... I want her. I want that feeling. I want home. I want to go home, Grikta. I want to go home."

*It took Edvard almost thirty minutes, but the tears eventually stopped. He felt so hollow as he stood back up, reaching for his coin purse. He didn't know the amount it would take to repair the damages, but he didn't care.*

*Quietly, he tossed the coins towards the door, standing as a monolith of silent rage. He prepared to leave, working up the courage to take the next step out of the door. But something told him to stop. A sweet, golden voice echoed within the canals of his mind, casting a shade of honey on the reaper who patrolled the river styx. His anger sufficed, replaced only with hope for a brief second. Quickly, he turned over his shoulder, spotting one final item. Light from the caved in roof illuminated it as it rested carefully atop a pile of rubble. The cloth. The cloth he had carried with him all these weeks. The cloth he had last night. The cloth that brought Faelyth to him.*

*Quickly, he collapsed over the rag, gripping it tightly. He brought it to his chest, tears quickly streaming from his eyes as he spoke at a near whisper, his heart yearning for that safety. That home. It had all happened so fast, but it was real. It was so fucking real.*

"Love me or kill me. I can't stand to walk this realm without you. Not anymore." 

*Edvard left Lerwick that morning, riding Gerhard back to the capital. Back to the castle. No-one would know where he had gone. He didn't care. He wouldn't tell them. He was discouraged. Angry. Sad. But somewhere, deep in his mind, underneath those layers of rage and sorrow, a small golden voice echoed in his thoughts. Somehow, someway...*

*He was gonna get lucky.*