I am the master of my fate

I know this, dome. It was - she is my fortune, made flesh.

But fortune is a fickle thing.

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pervy-sennin.livejournal.com

That is why you must enjoy your fortune. I do not believe her to be fickle, merely elusive. So hold on to her while you can.

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Saul. I... I fear I do not have the words to equal what you have said.

You have been joy to me, and sorrow when I thought you had left. There is no one in my world who can compare to you.

I believe I love you, Saul Samaren.

You, as ever, know where in this world I am. Find me. I will wait here for you.

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[The storm was fading.

It had to have happened eventually, and for a few days now he knew it would happen soon; but Saul believed in omens, believed in fate. And now the storm was ending, and he stood in its last windy dregs holding the small communication device that may as well have held the weight of the world he stood upon, and read words that were as alien as another universe.

True courage meant, not lack of fear, but still acting when one was afraid.

He called himself a man, not a monster. He said it often and loudly, convincingly.

Carmen was in the building just behind him.

He slipped the device back into the belt pouch and turned on his heel. Snow swirled around him, melted into his hair and turned it into heavy dark gold, ran down his face. The storm was dying down, he knew, but it would not. Tonight, while the natural storm breathed its last, he will breathe life into one a hundred times greater. He will show her his power.He will speak with her of his home. He will tell her of Ilyiga and the civil war. He will -

He opened the door to the shelter and stood on the edge, staring inside.]

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[Carmen watched the snow fall in silence. How strange, that a return to fame and the constant chase no longer appealed so much.

One man had changed that.

A few others had played their parts, but one had played the greatest. She was captured, well and truly, and did not wish to break free. But she had no choice. No options, no way out. She was trapped. Yet there was still time. Carmen will take what time she has. Looking down at her hands, Carmen removed one glove, then the other. Only one could find her. Only one she wanted to find her.

The door opened, and Carmen looked up to see Saul. She'd never believed in hesitation before and now time was all the more precious. Carmen crossed over to him to place her hand on his cheek.

Silently she studied his eyes, looking for confirmation of his words. She found it.

Brushing his hair back Carmen bought herself a moment. But when the moment was over her decision was the same. Gently she kissed Saul's lips, the faintest of touches.]

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The sight of her - her bare hands, the courage she walked with that even he found he couldn't match - did not get any more words from him. He did not know what to say. The emotion was so focused, it seemed to deny articulation. He'd wanted to talk of so many things... but her kiss found his voice stilled, no words as real as that touch.

And so he kissed her back, and it was not gentle. He was not a gentle man; it was with a sort of dizzy effort, so counter to what he used to think was his nature, that he touched without violence. His body had reacted to her before, but he had always curbed it, always remembered that he had had many women and never with much care, and she was different, so completely different...

But it was different. To touch another with love, to recognize that within that soft skin there was another human being - to look at her eyes as their lips met and truly see her - it was like nothing else. He kissed her until he was gasping for air.]

Carmen - [Oh, clever words, enduring strength, where were you now?]

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[Risk. The situation was fraught with it, and she accepted it all, embraced it, for purely emotional reasons. Her entire life had been about risk. She would not turn from it.

It was far from her first kiss. But Carmen could feel the passion behind it. She responded to the rougher kiss with a fierceness of her own.

The length, the strength, of the kiss had her out of breath as well by the time he pulled away.]

Saul. [Her own eloquence was difficult to reclaim. She ran her fingers through his hair, leaning into him.] You are my equal, the only one I have ever known.

[For a brief moment her gaze turned inward before she was once more focused intently on his eyes.] The only I wish or need to know.

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[There had been a time, he knew in the back of his mind, that such words would have gotten only laughter from him, a scornful dismissal. He had no equals and sought no equals, measuring men - and rarely, if ever, women - as worth destroying, or cleanly invisible. But he knew now, instead, how sweet a gift such words could be. And he thought: had she been weak, he would not have seen her. Had she been stronger, they might have had death between them. But they were equals, and he could be to her what he had never been to a living soul.]

I have told you many things. [He had found his voice, and it was soft - rich, as it had been when he was telling his war stories, but different, moved by passion not showmanship.] I have not told you that you are beautiful. [And oh, but she was. Sliding an arm behind her back, with her pressed close, he slowly pulled her with him back outside, to the storm. It was cold out there, but the mist and snow were his breath and his hands. He wanted to feel her presence, her heartbeat, and let her feel the storm touch her with love.]

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[One person before had pushed Carmen, but there had been some looking-down in her relationship with the Chief. Always ACME would be bound by laws and regulations. Saul was free, as free as her, as strong as her. And as passionate.

Carmen listened to his voice, enjoying the depth of it, and smiled softly at his comment, brushing his hair back.] I... Thank you. Such a thing... Thank you. [Easily she allowed him to guide her. Carmen trusted Saul, something that had taken a great deal of time. His body against hers was warm against the storm and Carmen kissed him again, deeply and hungrily. Her arms went securely around his shoulders, hands rubbing the back of his neck and head.]

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[The hunger in the kiss dazed him, the full eagerness in it. He'd felt such before, he was old enough, but always from girls, from senseless women, from lips who had no idea what they were trying to claim. It was one thing for a woman to imagine, to boast, that she was claiming the Rogue Guardian, quite another to know that she was correct.

He breathed in, and she was everywhere - a solid, warm presence within the mist and rain. Feeling her with that peculiar awareness that his power granted him was eerie and fantastic and more arousing than he'd possibly imagined. He gasped, a sharp intake of breath, and for a moment forgot words.

He stopped himself just as his hands were at her coat, however, with half a smile.] You'll be cold, [he murmured, himself aching to stay outside, but not willing to risk her any discomfort.]

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[She was not sure what had inspired the gasp, but she would take it. She'd had men in her bed previously, but none before had she cared to please. They'd been pleased enough by her name, by having her for one night.

Carmen felt his hands move and was already braced for the cold when he stopped. She raised an eyebrow.] Then you shall have to keep me warm.

[Her smile was more than amused; it was inviting. There had to have been a point in him bringing her out here instead of staying inside, and seeing the mist made her wonder exactly how aware of it he was. There could be something there. Carmen was, as ever, curious, intrigued. She would also admit that the possibility was an arousing one. No, they could stay. He'd said the storm was coming to an end; Carmen would be fine.]

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Shall I? [There was laughter in his voice, low and teasing and sincerely joyful. What were three days to the all-consuming now? His hands were deft and quick, opening her coat, reaching under it, cradling her neck and head with one arm and leaning in to kiss the delicate skin where neck met shoulder. His breath was warm, no, hot - the winds he commanded, in the most minute puffs, chilly, and he knew precisely how to play with the temperature to get sensitive nerves to react.]

I have never - [he paused for a snatch of breath, chills of pleasure running all up his spine] - never used my power in this way. [He was tugging at his own clothes now, slipping off the kerchief and jacket, pulling impatiently at the buttons of his shirt. He felt no cold - with the power swirling and building around him, there was an almost feverish heat under his skin.] You will stop me if I hurt you...

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[Carmen only smiled at the question. She could hea the notes in his voice. Tilting her head and lowering her shoulder Carmen exposed more of her neck to the treatment. A shiver ran through her, one not entirely due to the cold.

As he paused she raised an eyebrow. Never?] I would have thought this expected, par for the course. I am flattered. [Her hands aided him in direct contrast to her civilized words, undoing the buttons that were proving difficult for him before she surrendered her own coat. Losing that definitely made things colder, but it had to go. Carmen now unfastened her own shirt, slowly moving down one button at a time. No matter how cold it was, she wasn't going to rush things unduly. She wanted to enjoy this.] Of course.

[She leaned in to kiss him again just before undong the last button. But instead of sliding it off, Carmen removed her hat, careful to have it land near her coat. The smallest bit of mischief tinged her smile.]

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[He traced the slow reveal of skin, every inch in turn - breath and wind shifting and playing, till her taste lingered salty-sweet on his tongue. The slow and deliberate opening of her shirt enthralled him - the control, the leisurely pace. It was hard to match it. Every new glimpse he got of her tugged at him, left him reaching for more.

When she stopped to cast off the hat he gave her a feral sort of grin. Teasing, too, was she. With a twist of his shoulders he shrugged off the shirt; the muscles of his chest and arms were tight, the scars of a lifetime on the battlefield pale against the tanned skin. He pulled her close, skin to skin, to keep her warm, to feel her breath and let her feel his racing pulse in turn.]

Never, [he murmured against the skin of her neck.] Far too dangerous, you see... and far too grand, to be wasted on meaningless encounters. [And this was utterly the exception. He nuzzled the tender skin just between her breasts, then nipped at it, just with the edge of his teeth. Just on the edge between pain and pleasure.]

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[Carmen relaxed under Saul's attention, savoring the sensations. The care he was taking - she wanted this to last. There were too few things that she could fully enjoy here.

Her smile turned into a smirk at his grin. His expression was very promising. Carmen's eyes followed the shirt, taking in the scars that marked his body. A hundred stories, those. Perhaps she would hear them in time. Her fingertips traced one that stood out before she was pulled to him, enjoying the sudden warmth and intimate contact.

Carmen kissed along his shoulder before allowing her shirt to slip down her arms and off her. Then, her left arm freed, she reached up and laced her fingers through his hair, playng with it. Her right hand slid up his back before she followed the curves of it back down, coming to rest on the swell of his rear.

The nip of his teeth got a sharp intake of breath, and the hand in his hair encouraged him.] Dangerous and grand. A very fitting combination.

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[Her words made him laugh softly, still leaning in between her breasts and playing with the skin there with teeth and tongue, drawing long, lazy circles expanding outwards, marveling in the feel and scent of the smooth skin. He lingered more slowly in teasing each nipple, her hand in his hair urging him on. She was enjoying this, he could tell, and it was as if her pleasure was pouring into him, another fancy trick of this feeling, love, that he could hardly have imagined much less expected.

His arms tangled with hers, one hand going up to tangle in turn in the dark fall of her hair, the other brushing up against the sensitive line of the spine, down to the small of her back. He pressed her close, feeling the length of her body. Difficult to miss, when so close, that he was hard and ready; but he lingered, slowed, relished the smallest instances of touch that were each a pleasure all its own.]

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Mm. [It was a soft noise, a quiet noise of appreciation. His teasing her was only fair after she'd played with her hat. An amazing change, someone wanting to please her instead of just themselves with her. Such a difference heightened this even more. Carmen's eyes closed as his tongue explored her breasts.

His body against her was sensual, delightful, hard planes against her curves. She leaned into the press and could feel his interest. Her hand moved to his hip before sliding between them, seeking the fastenings on his pants. With the faintest of smiles, a small quirk of her lips, Carmen kissed Saul again, tasting his lips and tongue. The fastening gave way and she traced the waistband of the garment with her fingertips before reaching under the fabric in the back.]

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[The feeling of her hand exploring downward made him laugh softly, he wasn't entirely used to women who simply went for what they wanted. This, also, made the interplay different and unique, exciting in a new sense - she could very well choose to tease and deny him until it suited her. He'd have to keep up.

Slowly, he moved his hips against hers, answering and following her touch. He was far too old for any clumsiness there, every brush was deliberate, playful, while his mouth traveled back up her neck and his hand circled her body, toward her abdomen and further down. The heat between them build, churned, pulsed. It all but physically pushed back the cold ouside.]

((OOC: ... and now comes the incredibly bizarre confession where I'm not actually sure what Carmen's wearing under that trench coat. Has she got a pants or a skirt? X_X OMG DEAD OF AWKWARD))

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[She raised an eyebrow at the laugh but didn't ask. It was a pleased sound, and therefore it was not something to worry over. Only to note, a gentle noise she'd not much experienced before with him. Carmen's hand traced the contours of his rear. It was... very pleasant to find firm, toned muscles there, though it was not surprising. He was a warrior. It made sense. Saul would be the first warrior she'd bedded, the first fighter.

Carmen moved against him, feeling, savoring. There was no reason to rush this; while it was cold she was in no danger of freezing, Carmen was sure. Her other hand followed his neck down to his shoulder to his chest, learning the hard lines of it.]]

[[ooc: No worries! Pants. Simple black dress pants.]]

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[He could feel her appreciation in her touch, and liked it. It was a point of pride for him that at thirty-seven summers, he'd kept his body as strong and well-shaped as at seventeen. He moved to her touch, leaned into it, put himself in her hands. She'd earned the right to do with him as she pleased. Even if it meant teasing him with patience that he could barely equal.

One hand snaked down and slid, still just a touch hesitant, down the front of her pants. He brushed against the smooth, perfect skin of her thighs, and grinned as he traced a slow circle between her legs, her heat sending a pleasant jolt from his hand to his arm, and down into his crotch. Not so much urging her on, as inviting her, eager to give her all that she would want to take.]

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[His response was trusting. How long had it been since she'd just been trusted? It was empowering, exhilerating. Carmen pulled him against her, tilting her head to kiss along the muscles of his neck.

She shivered as his hand went low, both from the cold and the touch. His grin was answered with a small smirk as she slowly pushed into the touch. The invitation was accepted. Both of her hands went to his hips, resting there for a moment, before Carmen pushed the fabric down, over his hips. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes Carmen pulled back slightly to look him over. She met his eyes with another smile, and leaned back against him, kissing his mouth with her lips parted.]

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Hah...! [He couldn't help a soft chuckle as he slipped out of the last of his clothes. Enjoying the view, was she? He kissed her hungrily, tasting her with lips and tongue, while his fingers roamed on down between her legs, circling, clever little touches. For all his control, the eager tension in his crotch was a sweet sort of pain, deliciously ironic to a man who never knew pain while on the battlefield.

He liked that test of control. It was almost as though she was daring him. And he would expect no less. In a flash of wicked inspiration, he reached and slid her own pants down her legs, in the same smooth motion kneeling before her, and, grinning, starting his trail of kisses from her navel on downwards.]

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[Carmen exhaled, a small trace of voice to the noise, making it a soft moan. His fingers were talented indeed, stroking exactly where she wanted. The kiss was returned just as eagerly. Few paid quite so much attention when all they wanted was a night.

The grin and line of kisses got a raised eyebrow as a rush of arousal met the action of his lips. Carmen's fingers tangled in his hair, rubbing his scalp with her fingertips. She was impressed, and more than a little turned on. One hand trailed down the back of his neck with the slightest hint of fingernails.]

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[He relished her touch, and dared lower, sneaking his tongue along the soft skin of the hip joint, and inhaling deeply to take in the scent of tantalizing womanhood that made his breath catch in delight. Her scent, uniquely hers, and he basked in it, in being allowed it. His hands ran up her thighs, returning the sweet sting of almost-pain on the back of his neck with a firm, eager squeeze. She skirted pain and pleasure so well, a shiver ran readily down his back.

Between kisses and teasing licks, he breathed soft words against and all but into her, soft exhales of his own language, no finer language for intimacy.] Mia doma, mia solle, mia rubina brillenta...

From:

turn-a-blindeye.livejournal.com

Saul, you are truly a romantic at heart. Did you get her roses and a box of chocolates to go with that?

Of course, you understand that if we don't leave, and you ever do break her heart, there will be hell to pay. Okay?

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Protective? Of me, Kakashi? That is certainly unexpected.

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turn-a-blindeye.livejournal.com

Oh...You assume I'm providing the hell...?

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Ah. Now it fits.

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You know, dome, for your own sake you should hope that this promise of the spirits is true.

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I am glad to see a good thing come from this, Saul-san.

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You would call this good, mm?

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Is it not ?

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How can what is good for me be good for you?

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Does it sound so extraordinary that I could be happy for you ?

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You...

I will not ask what you are, since I know it already. But you, doma... you hate nothing, you judge no one, you see all men alike and stand aside while they do as they will. How do you live? How are you more than a stray wind, empty air?

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