Runaway (Van)

[Khiara]

Accepting his hands, the vantha stood in one smooth movement, looking down at her hands in his. It felt right, it just fit...so why did it all have to end. Why did things have to be like this. The realisation that all she had left - again - was the Frostmarch made the girl want to laugh and cry all at once. Eliac, Vanator and now Pygmy. All mere thoughts, mere moments in her life. Perhaps they never really happened...Vanantor and Pygmy. Perhaps she was still locked in her room, and she'd gone mad with grief.

Then again, if this was just some mad dream, it felt damn real.

Still looking at his hands, Khiara smiled again, trying to be stronger than she felt. There was no joy walking away leaving the man feeling as horrible as she did. In fact, if she really did care for him, she should be happy he found someone to love after what happened to his poor wife. Grasping at that thought, the brunette looked into his rich brown eyes.

"I truely hope she brings you happiness Vanator. You deserve to be happy again." Swallowing, Khiara felt the familiar flutter of her heartbeat and the giddy butterflies in her stomach as she gazed into his eyes. Her lips might declare she would move on, but her body and her heart called her bluff. Letting the feeling sweep over her, Khiara allowed herself one last moment with him. One last private audience with the man who had found her again, in the darkness, and brought her back to the light.

[Vanator]

Helping Khiara to her feet, Van felt the tension of their heated words fade. Once again, he found himself faced with the unrelenting feelings that the Vantha and the Drykas had been trying desperately to quell all season. They had agreed to protect Pygmy from the pain their love would cause. In the end, Van had hurt them both. Khiara's hands were cool to the touch, and Van held them a little tighter. She did not look at him, but the horseman studied, a last look at an undiscovered country. The girl's face was still hidden by her thick dark mane. Her sleeveless tunic bared her soft arms, smooth and void of scars. It was her riding tunic, and she bore her riding pants. She was dressed to travel, she was leaving ...immediately. Khiara finally turned her face up to Van's, her liquid gold eyes giving way to thin swirls of violet. The phenomenon held his attention for a breath, and even though the whites were tinged with red, the depth and intensity of her gaze disarmed him more than he wanted to admit. The Vantha's olive hued face had also softened from its previous hard words. The pleasant roundness of her features and small, button nose had always appeared exotic to Vanator, no more than at that moment. And, gazing at the beautiful northerner, he was shaken by doubt over his decisions. Vanator's reflections were interrupted by words spoken with a Vanthan lilt. Her sentiment pierced his heart, and a pang of sorrow for her gripped his chest. She needed someone to love, as much as he did. She needed someone to be what her Eliac was supposed to be for her. So they stood again, in his tent, gazing at each other, in love, but unable to love one another, and neither of them sure they were strong enough to walk away. Van's resolve faltered, and he tugged slightly at her hands, drawing in closer to her. He longed to feel the heat of her near him. Van wanted just one last embrace that he could cling to in the days and years to come. The last time he held Khiara, here in his pavilion, they confessed their feelings, and kissed. It was a goodbye of a sort, a sealing away of their affections. But Vanator knew that this was goodbye to Khiara, that when she mounted Vsenri and rode off...she would be gone from his life. He sensed a finality in the air between them. Vanator's hands released Khiara's and wrapped around her waist, his arms resting on the curve of her hips. It was a gambit, not knowing if the Vantha would accept his embrace again, after all that had transpired. His pulse pounded and his stomach danced like a whelp dancing with a girl for the first time. The Drykas' eyes settled on Khiara's, trying to plumb her heart. His head leaning towards her ever so slowly, as if her intensely saturated irises were physically pulling him closer. His eyes darted down to the soft bow of her lips before his lids closed. At this moment, he half-expected a sharp slap across his face, and maybe he deserved it. But he continued forward, until his lips pressed against Khiara's.

[Khiara]

There was a small moment of hesitation as he pulled her closer, confusion and indecision on her features. He was engaged, a soon to be married man. What right did she have to be so close to him? Her resolve lasted for only a fraction of a moment, before she relinquished to allow his arms to wrap around her waist. If she was going to be leaving, what harm would one moment cause? The man had mentioned his own father had many wives - it was not as taboo to drykas to have many partners. These thoughts ran through her head in less then a second, before her eyes dropped to his lips and willingly she tilted her head to allow his mouth to press against hers.

Again, as before, she could hear nothing but her pulse in her ears and thought of nothing but the drykas before her. Closing her eyes, Khiara gently rested her hands on the warmth of his bare sternum. His skin almost burned to her cooler touch, but it was an electrifying sensation...bringing curious thoughts of skin on skin that she had yet to experience or explore. A blush rose to her cheeks as she breathed deeply through her nose and slipped her hands up the warmth of his chest and wrapped her arms lightly around his neck. Parting her lips slightly, she allowed herself the indulgence of a more satisfying kiss, tongue lightly tickling his own. The vantha didn't think, she just acted. The nearness and warmth of Vanator served to let her forget temporarily just how lonely she was going to be.

Memories, strong memories, flooded her emotions and for a moment she could believe that time had reversed. She had never let Eliac go, and he'd never died. He was here now, with her and everything was okay. But...this was not Avanthal...and Eliac really was gone. This was Vanator, the one man she'd finally let in, and he was just as good as gone too. Caught by the sudden feeling of loss and loneliness, Khiara pressed herself against him, her soft tentative kiss suddenly firm and wanting. It would end, she knew it couldn't last...but Goddess she could cling to that one moment. For one Goddess-be-damned moment, she could escape it all.

[Vanator]

Van felt a relief as Khiara accepted his kiss, and his awareness closed in to exclude everything but the beautiful Vanthan in his arms. The Drykas sensed her resolve crumble as she slipped her hands around his neck. He became acutely aware of everything about her, the brush of her breath on his face, the coolness of her skin against his neck, the scent of her silken hair. There was still a hesitancy between then, hovering as if Tanroa had pinched closed the passage of time while Vanator and Khiara each wrestled with their desires. Finally, as if overcoming some unseen bonds, Khiara embraced the moment fully, the renewed passion of her kiss taking Van by surprise even as the softness of her form crushed against him. The Drykas welcomed her with a tightening of his own embrace, his mouth accepting her intrusion and in turn his tongue darted into hers. His breath and pulse increased in pace, and Vanator tried desperately to cling to his restraint. He desired to feel the cool of her skin in places he had yet to see or touch. More than a season. For more than a season, while he offered no resistance to others, he had barely dared to touch Khiara. They had their reasons for the barriers they had erected between each other. But she had never been forbidden from his dreams and imagination. Now, so close and open to him, Vanator began an epic struggle to not to allow those fantasies to manifest, but to maintain his faithfulness to his betrothed. Pressing against her, Van's willpower was losing ground, his hands roaming further up Khiara's back, around her torso, down to her hips. The young woman was soft with generous curves. He fought an attraction he had been forced to conceal on a daily basis. Even as Vanator kissed Khiara with fervor, his blindness to anything but the physical contact increased. A voice cried out from the depth of his awareness. "No, no, no!" With no small effort he pulled his mouth from the Vanthan's. Van did not move from against her, nor remove his hands, now resting on the swell of her hips. His face hovered only a few hairs breadth from Khiara's. He was panting, and he was sure the woman could see his heart pounding against the skin of his bared chest. Vanator lingered, desperately tempted to move forward, hesitating at the wrongness of his wants, but having not yet gathered the strength to pull away from the embrace that he had longed for for so long.

[Khiara]

Khiara found herself caught up in the moment, feeling every small movement of his hands and the intensity of his mouth. It encouraged the fire that was beginning to build inside her, and she returned his kisses with the same almost desperate passion. The glowing warmth of his body against the leather of her tunic could be felt even through the clothing, and it tugged at the young woman. His hands touched her back, her ribs, rested on her hips. At that moment, she would have accepted him, welcomed him. In a moment of simple release and a desire to be happy, just this once, she thought of no one else but herself and Vanator.

Then with almost an audible sigh, she felt him pull back. The moment broke like so much shattered glass. The vantha stood, still holding herself against the man, catching her breath and waiting. She knew it was right for him to stop, it was wrong to keep going. The illusion faded, and as her breathing settled, Khiara loosened her hold from him and moved her body from his, dropping her hands to rest lightly on his sternum, fingertips touching the permanent mark left by his love lost. Her eyes looked down, willing herself to let him go. Let him go.

Let them go.

There were no words she could say, nothing she could do. Her skin tingled faintly where his had touched, and her heart raced. Under her fingertips, she could feel his own heart hammering against his chest. Moving her hands to his, Khiara gently removed them from the swell of her hips. If she didn't go now, it would be unfair on Kashik. And on Vanator. She had no right to give herself to him, not now.

Unable to look at him, fearing she would not be able to have the strength he did, Khiara squeezed his hands. There was an electrifying tension between them, and her whole body screamed to welcome it. But the vantha knew she had to go. She had to. Today. Tonight. Now.

[Vanator]

With both a relieved sigh and an unvoiced moan, Vanator felt Khiara step away. Her small movement had ceased the fanning of flames they had ignited. Van cursed himself, that he would have allowed himself to get so close to committing even another betrayal. Khiara's hands slip from his chest to grasp his. His pulse did not slow, the thrill he had experienced in her arms had not waned. But reason had returned. Even as he relished the firm squeeze she gave his hands, Vanator knew as well as Khiara that she had to leave, now. There were no more words to be spoken. Their feelings for one another had been spoken with Pavi and Vanthan accents, communicated through impassioned touch. There was nothing else to say, no other sign of affection to display. Mustering his strength and willpower, Van loosened his grip on Khiara's hands and took a step away so she had a clear path to the door. His eyes fixed on her gorgeous multi-hued gaze, a last desperate connection before turning his head down.

[Khiara]

As Vanator stepped away, the exit to the street clear in her view, Khiara couldn't keep herself from looking up at him, meeting his eyes. There was regret there, and barely contained desires. She knew her own swirling iris' held the same mirrored look. Clenching her fists, hands by her sides, the vantha turned to the doorway, her chin held high.

She would not run, not this time. This time, she would leave like a woman and not like a child. He would not see her cry this time.

Making it to the doorway, she turned to look at him one last time, hand resting on the tent flap. There was so much emotion building inside, and the longer she stayed the harder it was to turn away. Swallowing hard, Khiara nodded once, as though to herself, and left the pavilion for the last time. She didn't slow, and she didn't stop, walking through the people towards the coral. As she neared, the white frostmarch nickered at her, tossing his head impatiently. Taking a moment to check his saddle and her bags, the young woman lept into her seat and settled in. Picking up the reigns, she urged him into a walk that quickened into a trot as she came out of the main housing. As she neared the gates of the nomad city, Khiara pushed him into a gallop, leaving behind nothing but a trail of dust glowing warm in the sun.