<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/87/7a/e2/877ae2a8cb4cf149a7531a31949cc154.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Mael<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Karen Morhen - Mael's bedchamber<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Bellatrix, Conor, Open<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: Grey shirt, leather leggings<br/><hr/><hr/>Mael paused a moment, wondering just how he could make her. Perhaps not letting her sleep in his bed until the thing was settled. He was sure he could deal with the discomfort, and if anything, he could just go on a trip and not come back until it was finished. He doubted her could actually force her to clean the bed, but he was always willing to try. But why go through the effort? And for what? Just to be petty? Mael had better things to worry about. Even if she could just clean the stains with a flick of her hand, or however magic worked when it came to cleaning bedding. He was anything but an expert. If he had the time, he would clean it later. If not, he would find one of the empty bedrooms in Kaer Morhen - Of which there were quite a few - and spend a couple nights there.<br/><br/>While not an expert in magic, Mael was something of a fatalist, and some problems were just not worth the trouble to deal with. Bellatrix just so happened to be the exception of that particular rule.<br/><br/>A note on this particular exception was the fact that her vanity was in his room. He had no doubt that she had many others, but it had appeared in his room one evening, while he had been asleep. She had declined to tell him how she had managed to get it there, and he... had just left it. No matter how many times they argued, screamed and yelled at each other, no matter how many times they parted ways thinking that if they never saw each other again it would be too soon, he still left the vanity there. Because he knew, or rather hoped, that she would be sitting on that chair combing her hair again before too long.<br/><br/>And so far that hope hadn't let him down yet. Would it? Probably. Would he throw the piece out the next time they parted ways? No.<br/><br/>Never.<br/><br/>In that way, he was an optimist.<br/><br/>He smiled as she pecked his lips, and tilted his head as she made thought of them being later still by engaging in other matters of no less importance. He didn't answer, and openly let his eyes wander over her naked body as she moved over to that little piece of furniture that seemed out of place in his spartanly furnished room, most of which had been roughly hewn and had seen better days. As she sat, he moved in behind her, still letting himself enjoy the view that she provided, letting his large hands settle on her shoulders, gently working the tense muscles there with his rough and calloused fingers.<br/><br/>And they dropped away quickly when she asked him if he was going to be staying in Kaer Morhen until the winter, an odd look coming over his face as he turned away before she could see it in his reflected image in the mirror," I haven't made any plans, but I'm likely to try and find a few autumn contracts before winter settles in," He said tersely, declining to make one of his customary quips as he sat down on the bed, pulling his boots on quickly," If you'll excuse me, milady, I'll go greet Conor," And with that formal farewell, he picked up the pack that held his weapons and exited the room. He would never understand her. He doubted he even wanted to. And he detested how vulnerable he was around her. Letting his guard around her was as easy as how they removed each other's clothes. The problem with that was that she seemed unwilling to be equally vulnerable, and knew how to hurt him when he was at his weakest. Each time, like now, he thought never again.<br/><br/>And yet he kept that damned vanity. He cursed quietly as he made his way down to the main hall, forcing a smile on his face as he entered, and even meaning it as he heard Conor's words," A bit early for mead, isn't it?" He asked in a jocular tone, placing his weapons on the table and moving to where his brother-in-Grasses was now seated, clapping the man on the shoulder.