shelley_winters | (no subject)

Setting her down gently, he commented coldly. He was hoping, though somewhat against expectations, that it would go better. He kept a hand on her shoulder to stabilize her. The sound of water dripping to the floor from both of them. His white robe was completely soaked, and Ishamael was definitely feeling the need to change.

"As you like."

She stands up, wet hair over her face that she doesn't bother to push back - it's a welcome shield - and carefully steps out from under his extended hand.

"Thank you."

Her voice is very small, and very cold.

A glance at her. He smiled slightly at the sight the combination of cold water and her thin, white shirt afforded him. She was quite beautiful certainly. Pulling at his own thin, white, and wet robe, he thought for a moment and decided against drying with the One Power.

"You are quite welcome."

A pause.

"Would you like some dry clothes?"

She folds her arms self-consciously, eyes on the floor, deliberately missing his gaze.

"Yes. I'll go to my room."

And she turns to make for the door.

Ishamael shook his head as he walked towards the concealed storage bins in the walls. Puddles of water were left in his trail.

"Do not bother."

A pause as he gestured to a storage bin a few feet to his right. After the incident with Mesaana, most of Shelley's things were moved to his own chambers were the wards were much stronger. Not even Balthamel would be so bold as to intrude on his private chambers.

"A great deal of your clothing is in storage here for space reasons."

Shelley stares, accidentally breaking her private resolution not to even look directly at him again.

He keeps her clothing in his chambers?

So... that's where Loira fetches things from.

"...Right."

Opening a few of the bins, he glanced over and pulled out a few of his own things-deep black. A small sigh as he looked at the bins that Loira had organized. She was almost compulsive in that way, and had a filing system that put most government's revenue systems to shame.

"I am not exactly sure where any one particular thing is, that is Loira's business, so if you want something specific then you will have to look yourself, but if you simply want me to pull something out at random, then I can."

"A-anything," she says, gritting her teeth afterwards at the audible tremor.

As soon as she is dry, she's leaving the room, she decides. As soon as she isn't dripping all over the floor. She has heard enough of his lies, and he is obviously even more unstable today than before, and sitting on her own with a book, and maybe Abdiel on her lap sounds an okay alternative.

Ishamael carefully filed through the clothing and carefully removed a black dress, a black shift, and a matching pair of black panties. Attractive things, but not overly nice. The dress buttoned up the back, and she would certainly need help for that.

"Here you are, the towels are over in that bin."

He pointed to a bin that opened seemingly of its own volition.

Shelley crosses to it in silence, pulling out a towel and wrapping it around her shoulders without a word before glancing at the pile of clothing.

She will not change in front of him, if that's what he's waiting for.

Ishamael calmly turned his back to her with his hands at his side. It was but a small matter to form a small reflective surface hidden in his cupped hand from the water dripping off his body. He thought little of it. It was not as if he had not seen her unclothed before.

She watches him warily, but he doesn't seems about to turn around.

A small sigh and her fingers go to her throat to undo the buttons of the blouse, and peel it gingerly off before sitting on the floor to attempt the loose trousers. Wet silk is very difficult to manage, and her hair sticks to her back and shoulders.

His lips part slightly as he watches in the reflection in his hand. She was so very beautiful. Her skin was so damn fair. All that white--seamless--and the light pink of her nipples. While the cold rainwater was almost certainly at fault, Ishamael could not but indulge in a little flight of fancy and think that he was at least partially the cause of a certain reaction.

And what a pleasing reaction it was, though irritation flickered across his face as his mind correllated the unconscious shaping of his mouth with what he was seeing in the reflection. He was above such things.

Shelley shivers a little, goosebumps rising along her arms as she hastily towels herself dry, or close to it. A quick, wary glance at Ishamael shows that he is still looking away from her, but she doesn't like it nonetheless, and dries herself as fast as possible, half turned away.

As dry as she seems likely to get, Shelley reaches for the pile of clothing.

A smile broke on his face. The shimmering movements as she rose, patches of light reflected from the room caressed her naked body like small hands. Oh, how he--

It was all he could do to repress a soft coo at the barely dry bright red hair. While the image was too small, his imagination sufficed for the crystalline droplets of icy water suspended in the bright red tangle.

(The milky odd little flowers among the red maiden-hair at the lower tip of her body)

A touch of disappointment as she turned, but no matter. There was something oddly beautiful, tender, vulnerable as she held towel in front of her chest with her hair damply clinging to her pale, naked flesh. An infusion of warmth into his own body.

She has to let go of the towel to put on the shift, and does so reluctantly before pulling the undergarment over her head with great haste. It is short, but instantly makes her feel less uncomfortable. Clean knickers next, and then she pauses to rub at her soaking hair before finishing getting dressed.

Water droplets fly through the air as she shakes her head, vainly attempting to dry off her long hair.

Ishamael waited for a few moments as he watched in the reflection before letting it dissolve into his hand. A few small splashes as he jerked his shoulders to cover the water hitting the floor. It would not do to be discovered.

Best to distract her quickly. After a few moments of concentration so as not to embarass himself, Ishamael pulled at the collar of his leaden robe and let it drop to the floor. He had not bothered to wear anything beneath it.

He needn't have worried - the towel masks the sound of the water as Shelley continues scrubbing haphazardly at her wet hair, and also coincidentally stops her noticing for a moment when he disrobes.

Just for a moment.

When she does, her eyes widen in shock and she spins around fast, despite the fact that he doesn't seem to have any problems with-

She blushes angrily, completely forgetting that she still isn't wearing her dress for the moment.

A towel floated to his hand as he quickly dried himself off, aided by the power slightly, of course. Quickly, he donned his clothing. He could dress quickly, if need be. He hoped Shelley enjoyed, on some level anyway, the view.

She hadn't looked back, staring very pointedly at the blank wall in front of her instead. The towel hangs uselessly in her hand, and a trickle of icy water drips down her neck, making her shiver. She wants to get out of there.

But... her dress.

Once she is sure - absolutely sure - he is decent, she turns to pick it up and pull the it over her head, never once looking in his direction.

A small smile as he carefully laced up the front of his robe. She would have to ask him for help as that dress would fall off of her without assistance, and he highly doubted that she would walk down the halls in so little.

The dress is trickier than it looked. Rather a lot trickier, actually, and given that she cannot see behind her, the laces up the back reject her efforts to ties them, either unravelling or knotting up each time she tries. Undone, it gapes behind her, dropping off her shoulders at each turn.

Shelley grits her teeth and begins again. She will not ask him to help. She will not.

An idle inquiry as he brushed off his sleeves. A small smile on his face.

"Is there a problem?"

Shelley glares.

Then stops tugging at the laces and simply lets the stupid thing fall off.

"No," she says haughtily, stepping out of the dress. "I just don't like this one."

Skirting around him as far as she can, the girl makes for the chests storing the rest of her clothing.

How irritating.

He hated having his plans fall apart. Not one to dwell on the past, a new plan was quickly formulated. Carefully, he slid up behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"I have, perhaps, a better idea."

"A-"

She grabs at the arms around her waist, but they will not be moved. She attempts to twist free instead, she's barely dressed-

"Elan. Get off me!"

A light laugh as he whispered in her ear. His voice was low and amused. This was a particularly interesting idea. His right thumb strokes her stomach through the thin shift.

"How about we play a game? If you win, then I send you to Milliways for a much longer excursion."

Shelley shivers as a drop of water rolls down her shoulder.

She wants to go back. She had been meaning to ask again soon anyway. But... she doubts she will like his terms. At all.

She turns her head.

"Don't you remember what happened last time?"

Ishamael laughed slightly as he smiled. His fingers tightened around the thin material of her shift.

"That was a long time ago. The stakes are different this time as well. I would not suggest that we make the same wager as last time."

(How about your soul, Lady Shelley?)

"Then what?"

She wants to go back, but there is no way she's getting into one of his games without knowing the stakes.

A razor-edged grin as he continued to toy with her shift lightly with his finger.

"I will tip the odds in your favor. You name the game and the time period for your stay and I will name the other end of the stake. We shall negotiate."

Shelley swallows, thinking hard, flinching when his finger drags gently across her stomach.

"Stop that."

She needs to think, and it's hard to concentrate with him literally breathing down her neck like this.

"Say- a week?"

The longer she asks for, the more he'll want in return. A game she knows well, that he can't manipulate with the Power...

The less clear her thinking, the more he was at an advantage. She chose the time period well. He thought that she would say that. His hands still except for one fingertip tracing small circles.

"And the game?"

She twists again, irritable and uneasy. No, no. She can't think like this, and she wants a dress to wear.

"Let go of me first."

A light laugh, and an amused grin. He retorted quickly.

"Is that a term in the wager?"

Shelley grits her teeth and doesn't answer. She won't say anything until he does, she decides. She may be utterly powerless, but if she has anything to do with it, she will not be treated like a- like this.

Ishamael laughed and released her for a moment, though staying quite close to her.

"Any ideas?"

Not sha'rah. Too tricky, she had almost lost last time. Only the element of surprise and sheer luck had won her that.

But it has to be based on skill...

She tilts her head. "Can you play chess, Elan?"

Ishamael shook his head. It always amused him when she called him Elan--it was so very antiquated, and intimate. Now, as to the wager... He had already had something in mind.

"There is a small formal party that I must attend in a few weeks time. If I win, then you will be my synkeimai to the party."

Now, that would be delightful.

Shelley frowns, then raises an eyebrow.

It meant... company. Something like it, a partner for the evening. And he did specify for the party only.

She had been expecting something a little more... sinister. Not that this isn't a little odd - and odd is worrying, coming from him - but for a few more days away from him...

"That's all?" she asks cautiously. "Just go with you?"

Ishamael nodded calmly. There were some... implications that she might be missing, but she had the fundamental idea of it.

"You would have to act the role, of course, but yes, just that. This is polite society, they will not question anything directly."

Shelley regards him a moment.

No, she doesn't want to. It'll be distasteful, and vaguely humiliating. But a whole week away - longer on Antar - isn't that worth the risk?

What is the risk?
(screamingscreamingscreaming)
Slowly she turns and pulls a dress - blue, not black - out of the chest as she thinks.

A smile as he moved a bit closer. It was certainly fair, and she was considering it. He was quite good at most games, so even if he did not know it, he was quite in favor of winning, regardless.

He would wait for her to choose, and even if he lost, he would still have the pleasure of the time spent.

She pulls the dress on over her head carefully, reaching behind to button it, and scrape her wet hair into her hands in an attempt to stop the shoulders of it getting wet.

"How do I know-"

You won't fly into a rage and try to kill me as you did last time I beat you at a board game?

She bites her lip.

The smile fell from his face as he commented coldly. It was hardly comparable at all. An unfair comparison.

"A lot of time has passed and the circumstances are quite different."

Not really, from where she's standing. She swallows, and doesn't meet his eyes.

"N-not for me. So, I'd like to be sure."

A long sigh as he stepped close to her. One hand on her waist as the other slid up her neck to her face. The tip of his thumb stroked the soft flesh under her jaw. A cool whisper as he brought his face close to hers.

"A lot has changed since then. You do not need to worry as one of the things that has changed is how I feel about you."

A gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth.

Shelley turns her face, and pulls back, cursing her pale skin inwardly. She can't help the colour rising. How he feels. As if he has real feelings, other than rage, and hate.

"Stop it."

She turns further around, facing away, which makes it easier.

"But if you can learn the game, I'll play."

A small, triumphant smile at both the colour and her words. He would win.

"Lady Shelley, Then we will play."

Even after events earlier had gone badly, there was a kind of satisfaction in this.