Log Date:Dec 29, 1999
Logged By:Theowyn
Location:Kamikatsu Royal Sitting Room, Palace, Caemlyn
Players:Elyse & Theowyn
Summary:With the possibilities of war looming, Elyse and Theowyn begin to consider it more seriously. So much so that Elyse gives Theowyn her Favour. She admits that her father has sent additional guards, and that soon she might have to take her leave of Caemlyn.

ToT: Theowyn - Wednesday, December 29, 1999, 7:15 PM

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The beautiful song of Elyse's harp drifts through the doors into the corridor, only slightly muffled, which might indicate a rather fierce dance of her fingers along the strings. As usual, the sentry at her door bows to you as you approach, then steps in to announce you. The beautiful music, unaccompanied this time by Elyse's voice, ceases almost before the guard has even begun to speak. The Princess rises, a drawn look to her expression though she attempts at a smile, and curtseys toward the doors.

The Prince nods in light greeting to those guarding the door, better to be polite when courting a Princess of Kandor inappropriately so. With the proper permissions still not gained, he does try to be formal, though the attempt fails when his eyes cast upon the beauty of his affections. Theowyn looks to you with a hinting smile, one that would show on his voice. "Princess Elyse, I arrive once again without warning and without reason. I hope you accept my company for this evening?" he asks in a light voice, taking a few more steps toward Elyse before making his formal bow that would go un-noticed by her eyes.

Elyse smiles distractedly, and nods, "Of course, Prince Theowyn." She makes a vague wave of her hand, "That will be all, Yoshu. Thank you." It might be noticed that the Princess is alone in her sitting room, though who can say when any of her servants or Alianthe might appear. "Your Highness?" a question in Yoshu's voice, to which she responds evenly, "My desire to remaind undisturbed remains. Prince Theowyn and the Lady Alianthe are of course welcome. I will call if your services are further needed," there is a sigh ending that sentiment. Something is terribly on her mind, to be sure, and though she does try, she does not successfully disguise it. A fleeting surveying glance of Theowyn, and the Yoshu bows once more, "As you wish, Your Highness," then departs. With the closing of the door, Elyse turns more fulling in the direction she last heard the Prince's voice, "How now, My Lord?" she asks, smiling gently.

Theowyn shows complete ignorance to the words as Elyse and Yoshu exchange words. She is to him now, though on the loose end of any interruptions. Theowyn finishes closing the distance between them, and as he speaks next, he is at her side and offering his arm as escort as can be felt by the light touch on hers. "I am well, Princess," he indicates, his voice hinting more then just kind exchanges. Those deep blue eyes move across her beautiful figure, this time holding more right to such an action with their love proclaimed. She will be his, he is hopeful of that, and he admires her in such a way. "My beautiful Princess, who has captured by heart." The next times with a whisper, as the other hand can be felt toughing her cheek while he turns to her.

If his words were intended to brighten her distracted and mildly sour mood, their dedired effect met with success. Blushing at the compliment and easily slipping into his escorting posture, Elyse's smile nearly touches her vacant eyes, "I am glad you are well, my Prince," she offers genuinely, her slender hand gently resting on his offered arm, perhaps close enough to make contact with the skin of his hand, if he is not wearing any gloves. Her sigh now is more wistful, her body-language less distracted and moody, and more receptive to his touch and warm voice. Closing her eyes more from instinct than anything else, as he caresses her cheek, Elyse whispers, "I'm so glad you've come, my Love. I've missed you." Then she reopens her sightless eyes, staring blankly at some distant point ahead, "I hope all is well? With Murandy, I mean."

"It is as well as can be suspected," Theowyn answers to the question. His hand is not gloved, and their fingers do brush as he escorts her toward the sofa. Proving to himself that he can distract her negative thoughts, he lays claim to realizing something is the matter. "There is something troubling you?" the Prince asks quietly, that before he settles them both into the sofa. With his guidance for her to sit, she is far to close to him, their hips brushing as they both settle deeper into the sofa. She can hear him turning more toward her, feel his knee touch upon her leg, and then the hand returns to Elyse's cheek.

Settling onto the sofa with his guidance and ruffling of silk skirts, Elyse smiles amiably at the question, once more closing her eyes to the touch upon her cheek, and pressing a little more against it, moving her own hand to lay over his on her cheek. She finally answers, "A disaggreement with the senior officer in charge of my safety adn well-being, Dearest. Nothing that should warrant your attention. Especially when you have more important concerns to occupy your attention," her brow furrows with concern and she reopens her eyes, tilting her head a little more toward you and lowering her hand to what she thinks might be the location of the Prince's chest, "I am sorry to learn that the morale of your citizens is so low . . . " the admission that she is keeping abreast of the situation might intrigue some, that she is aware of matters to such an extent might intrigue more.

"We have proclaimed our love, Princess. You know you are of great importance to me." The gaze of the Prince does not depart your features, though he still avoids the eyes that seem to have little life or attention. It is your other features that gain his focus, ones that are more sensual upon you, such as your lips and cheeks. The Prince remains his eyes decently at level. Theowyn's fingers brush against her cheek a few more times before they capture her hand. It is then that he leads her touch to his own features until youcan feel the outline of his cheek. "The movement of the troops and the threat of war has caused difficulties within the trade to and from Andor. That ontop of the threat of war alone." You would be able to hear that hint of surprise in his voice over the subject.

Elyse smiles at the touch of his cheek, lightly tracing her slender finger across it surface, then blushes, starting to withdraw her hand. The threat of war forgotten for now, seated so close to her true love, "I must confess . . . I've wanted to know your features . . . to caress them with my hand for sometime now," the blush deepens.

Theowyn does not allow the hand for such a hasty retreat, instead he guides it back to his cheek once more. "Then feel for my features, Princess. You should know the look of your Prince, every inch of the man that loves you, yes? It is as far as the Creator allows it to be, for I have the benefit of seeing your beauty from head to toe. A remarkable beauty that that, Princess. You can capture the heart of any man." Theowyn's other hand reaches around the back edge of the sofa, and finds its way to her shoulder. "I love you, Elyse." Theowyn had not said the words so directly as of yet, but does so now.

Though blind, her eyes still function with tears, and at his verbal admission her heart skips a beat and those eyes well with tears of bliss. With her hand staying against his cheek, she uses it to guide herself more closely toward his face, perhaps tilted at an awkward angle, unbeknownst to her, but the intent is apparent as she leans for further intimate contact, "And I love you, Theowyn," Elyse whispers, "More than mere words can profess . . . " her other hand reaches out for him, to steady herself as she seeks his warm and tender lips.

The touch of their lips speaks of their delicate embrace, though as the hand moves about her shoulders and the other parts from her hand to find her waist, Theowyn does deepin the kiss. It is heated with passion, with his desires, as he guides and tilts her head so her lips can further part for him. That tongue begins its search for hers, lightly probing the distance of her mouth and then twirling near her. Theowyn does lighten the kiss, but only when the hand about her waist easily pulls her to him, enough that any more pull and she'd need to mount his lap. With the realization of his need, he does release her hip and waist then, but yet not ending the kiss.

A quick learner, especially in matters of the heart and mind, Elyse responds to the heated and passionate kiss in kind, perhaps only with slight less assertive movement as the Prince's own, indicating her lack of experience, and her own natural demure demure disposition. Her hand finds his chest, if not on the first search, then eventually, and presses gently there before making its way to his neck, tenderly gliding across what skin she may find. Her other hand still cradling his cheek as they continue to kiss. Her bosom rising and falling with the desire, the exertion. Her heart-rate, this close it can be felt easily, is so elevated it would have caused the court physicians some concern were there not a sound reason to warrant the swift beating. A small moan of pleasure escapes her sweet and tender lips, her tongue dancing with the Prince's moments before she feels his arm around her departing, and reluctantly starts to withdraw from the kiss itself, herself.

Theowyn nearly retrieves her again for a further kiss, especially at the sound of her pleasant moan. How tempted is he? Very much so, the evidence of his passions would be evident in his slacks some-time after the kiss, though not even he is aware of that detail as he eyes the woman he had just kissed. "We..." he tries to start with something that would be sensible, and can't, completely at victim to his passions. The large and strong hand trips to her waist, though more now at her hip then even before. Such a sweet curve of her body, so near him, that dress well formed to her beauty. "Princess, you have me at the edge of passions with a single kiss," he admits quietly, the love, passion, lust, and desire somehow all individuall separated and all so present in his voice.

Elyse smiles obsequiously, blushes, and tilts her head downward slightly, "I . . . " she begins, "I'm sorry," she mumurs a moment later, starting to pull her hands away from him, reluctantly, "I love you." Her own arousal evident throught the curve of her gown over her bosom, much to her embarrassment if she could see it. Thankfully, she does not. "Frankly . . . I am at a loss," she admits, moving to nestle herself against your chest, using her hands once more, to guide her direction.

"There is no reason to be sorry," Theowyn insists still within the heat of his passions, finding the arousal evident from the pressing of her bossom on the dress. That look causes another deep breath to pass, remaining uncertain of what to do next. Well, remaining uncertain how not to do what one wants to do next. His eyes move upwards to the ceiling, a place that will temporarily keep him sane, though the touch of her body so near to him still has him burning for her within. "At a loss?" he manages to ask after attempting to calm his breath. She'd note the deep lifts of his chest, and perhaps hear the pumping thud of his beating heart.

"Mm Hmm," she answers softly, pressing her head against his chest and absently timing the rhythm of his beating heart, "My mind seems to be warring with my heart . . . with my desires." She frowns then, a comment made to her earlier coming to mind. Though, her heard tilted against his chest while he is looking at the ceiling, he'd likely not notice it. He might, on the other hand, notice the change in her voice as she continues, "Tell me about yourself, my Prince. I am in love with a man whose background is a near enigma to me." she smiles then, "Other than what rumors reach such a distant court as Chachin."

"In Andor the traditions are not allowing for many satisfied desires within courtship," Theowyn says the words finally, not certain how the traditions are within Kandor. He's heard of public bathing, for one, so he might assume it is fair game to sleep with the one you love. He takes a deep breath then, his hand still not departing her hip even though its placement there would be considered most inappropriate, so near to her sex. Theowyn forces himself to close his eyes as his head returns forward and then down to look upon her through half-shut eyes. "Both my parents died when I was at a young age, my mother at the hands of the Dark which wished to claim the throne." Nope, Theowyn doesn't start with the easy stuff. "My sister and I were chased away and presumed dead until Prince Greydon, myself, and Aislynn reclaimed what was ours. It was then that I was sent to the Tower with my sister, to begin and complete my training." Okay, few specific details, but where does he begin? Theowyn squeezes her tighter against his body in reassurance.

Elyse bites her lower lip, the arm she slipped around him while settling against him gives a squeeze of comfort hearing the more tragic and difficult history of the Prince, though most are points she was previously informed of--most, not all. She continues to listen in silence, eager to hear more.

She does not protest the placement of his hand at her hip. Not at all.

"So that is the short of it, Princess," Theowyn nearly finishes off the general details. "I was named The First Prince of the Sword after Aislynn took control of Andor. Durnik was named the Captain-General for his experience, and me lacking in it. I was but a young prince then," he notes with a faint chuckle. Bad enough that his hand as at her hips, but his fingers keep stroking at her skin from above the dress as well. Theowyn takes a deep breath. "So what are the traditions in Kandor with relations to courting?" he asks quietly, his breath still wantingly heavy.

Elyse smiles, blinking a few times as she ponders the information, absorbs it, and then works on the next question, "Official courting can only begin when my father grants permission. And usually that is only after he has met the man in question, peronally," she frowns at that, uncertain if that will delay matters, her father being unable to leave his country to meet Theowyn, and Theowyn being unable to do the same. She puts strength in her voice, though, and continues, "Then, typically, the courting begins with dinners, balls, and other social events with the suitor escorting the woman being courted. Eventually it moves on to chaperoned meetings," and pause and a blush, "Only after their betrothal would unchaperoned meetings be approved." Her hand on his chest stretches upwards, seeking his throat and jawline, then begins to lightly stroke his cheek, lest he pull away from her touch.

There is a light sigh, though not a disapproving one. Theowyn makes no motion to pull away, but the hand at her hip does brush away in favor to taking her hip. He does, after-all, try to calm his passions. "So we are being most inappropriate then, my Princess?" he asks, again showing no dislike or disapproval. "And no authority about to say otherwise, but for the concerned glances of our staff?" he chuckles lightly at that, taking another deep sigh. "We will tease ourselves to no end by breaking tradition, for it will catch-up with us. Our kisses will continue, of course, and so will the tension of our bodies. A fitting punishment, with no sight set on satisfying our hearts completely until a long path is travelled." And Theowyn does mean long, especially at worst case, with the announcement of the engagement not being until after his travels to Kandor. He shows no hint of being inpatient, however.

Elyse lets out a relieved sigh, murmuring, "So . . . you are not deterred?" shifting her position a bit to lift her head to face him, or where she heard his voice.

Theowyn shakes his head lightly, whispering a quiet no before his lips seek out hers. The kiss is light, as he attempts to hold back some of the passions that he feels within. He does so with little success, but does pull away from the kiss. "How could I do anything but wait for what may be promised to me in my future?" he asks quietly. "The Tower has taught me patience."

Elyse returns the chaste kiss warmly, but tenderly, perhaps not as passionate as earlier. She too, is making an endeavour to reign in her body's impulses. She smiles at his words, "Then I must thank the White Tower. Perhaps ask father to increase the tithes we offer." She chuckles musically, lowering herself to nestle against you once more, "I am told my father sends a handful of spared men," her voice suddenly sad and afraid at once, "He means them for additional suport of our escort from here to Mayene."

"He did?" The concern shows on his voice, holding you deeper agains this body. Not but for the will of the Creator will he let you go now. "Princess, how can I convince you to stay?" he asks slowly, knowing that it is not the princess that's at issue here.

Elyse sighs, moving a hand to her temple and giving it a small circular massage before returning it to your chest, a few inches in front of her face, "The disagreement earlier," she begins, "was on this very topic. My man," meaning her senior Honor guardsman, "intends to follow his orders from his king. I cannot fault him that," she says sadly, "But I am convinced that this is where I need to be. This is where I want to be."

Theowyn takes a deep breath, his eyes closing and head leaning backwards once more. The voice would tell of his dislike for this, though his hand returns to your cheek. The motions are meant to comfort and reassure. "How long do we have Princess?" he asks quietly, fearing what he might do to keep you here, and fearing what might happen if you leave.

Elyse moves her head against your stroking hand, "I am not certain. The missive was sent to the Lt. Commander directly from His Majesty. And the letter was not read aloud to me. The only information I gleened was from our . . . disagreement." raised voices were involved, but she maintains it as a civil disagreement.

"The Prince of Arafal has turned," Theowyn notes quietly, not exactly changing the subject but perhaps enhancing the matter to their favor. "He is bonded to Rio Sedai, you might know. But it seems that he disappeared, and is now back within the palace." Theowyn takes a deep breath then. "Perhaps, it be best of both Arafal and Kandor had representation here," he suggests quietly. "Is that anything that you can use, my Princess?"

Quiet a lengthy moment, Elyse ponders the usefullness of this information, "Perhaps . . . " she muses, "Perhaps," her tone brightening with each additional word. She blinks then, asking suddenly, "When do you think the war to occur?" apparently she is of the same mind as you, that it is inevitable.

"Hard to say," Theowyn answers honestly. "It may be sometime still. If Lord Renford gains the royal title in Murandy then Andor will have no choice but to prepare for war. We've still have yet to hear any rumor confirming this fact, but it's fairly clear that Lord Renford will lead." The comforting strokes upon her cheek continue, as does the warm embrace.

"I see," she says soberly, then moves her hand down to her bosom, where her slender and long fingers dip into fair cleavage, "Then I will give you this now," withdrawing a long silk ribbon of green material, embroidered with tiny red hearts. Sitting up more straight, she places the Favour in her other, now free, hand, then holds it out toward you, slightly scewed from directly before you, her aim a bit off, "My Favour, Sir. Since you could be off at a moment's notice--I want to make sure you have this with you, when you do go."

"Your Favour?" Theowyn doesn't comprehend it all at first, his eyes falling ot the heart and then her eyes, and then again to the heart. "Princess..." he breathes lightly, this being somewhat unexpected to him even now. He does accept it, his hand coming over yours and then guiding it around so that it now lays in the palm of his hand. It is then that he draws it away, tightening his first about it. He takes a deep breath, the next words more a realization to himself. "I will be leading the troops to war if war does come," he confirms slightly. "Likely at the side of my sister." Knowing Aislynn, she will not hesitate in her insistance.

Elyse blinks, surprised to hear that, "Your sister? Forgive me, but, would that be wise? Would that be appropriate?"

"Princess, I do not have the faintest idea if she will demand it or not," Theowyn admits quietly. "When we retrieved the crown of Andor it was her that lead the forces against the Dark, but that was of different circumstance then now." The prince shakes his head lightly. "Regardless, I will be there."

Elyse nods sagely, "Who will manage court with both you and Her Majesty gone?"

"To not take much credit to my words," Theowyn states quietly, kissing your lips with the briefest of touch. "You are right, of course. Royal representation will be needed here. Prince Greydon could stay, I suppose, though a Blademaster would be best suited for war yet he has not been in Caemlyn too often. A wise decision will be made on the matter, be assured."

Elyse nods once more, reluctantly parting from your lips, "Yes . . . " she replies thoughtfully.

"Am I selfish in keeping you here?" Theowyn asks suddenly, his eyes growing distant themselves. "I am so driven by love, perhaps I'm blinded by what is best for you Princess?" By the tone of his voice, he hopes not. "But it seems clear, that if war were to errupt by surprise, I would not want to see you on the road in a journey away. Not now."

Elyse smiles warmly, snuggling up closer to you once more, "I am she who is selfish. Keeping you away from yuor advisors now, I presume." She sighs blissfully, not seeming to intend to let you go anytime soon.

"Advisors, I think you've had me all but forget about those," he notes with a light chuckle. "It seems neither of us are too willing to follow with the offered advise." Theowyn's fingers move beneath your chin to lift it just enough from his chest so that he may place a kiss on your cheek. "Princess, what am I to do to resist your beauty?" he asks with a failing concerned tone. "Such sweet kisses you offer, so pleasant and tender to the touch." Theowyn's voice is a touch playful, but mostly passionate.

Elyse blushes, but returns the kiss favourably, "You flatter me, Darling. I am undeserving." she says modestly, sincerely.

"You are deserving," Theowyn insists lightly, settling back into the sofa and you within his hold. He would set you within his lap as well, though doesn't wish to push matter any further. Not with there being at least one person that may offer interruptions to them. Well, maybe.

Elyse smiles, "I simply feel the luckiest woman alive, merely to be in your arms, right now. I wish I could stay here forever, my Heart. If I am indeed deserving, then I shall seek whatever deeds I have performed to deserve such happiness, so that I may not be remiss with those deeds in the future."

"Princess, you have my heart," Theowyn respodns to that, setting his eyes close once again as he lays contently with you in his arms. His arm moves in between the sofa and your back until it wraps about your waist. It is there that he returns to stroking his fingers against the silks of your dress, while pulling your hips tighter against his.

Elyse turns her body a bit in your arms, more to face where she thinks you are and her balance teeters a bit as she removes her hands from steadying herself, to bring them to your face, in however many tries she needs to get them there. "And if I asked for your lips," she smiles, speaking in a mildly sultry tone, "And your eyes . . . and your face altogether?" There comes a knock at the door.

The Prince, if listened to distinctively, whimpers when they are interrupted by a knock on the door. "You may have all that you wish Princess, I will not deny you," he manages, though already he begins to pull away to a more appropriate distance.

Hearing the whimper, the Princess agrees with a sigh, but smiles at his response as she too withdraws to an appropriate distance from Theowyn, or what she thinks is one, having to rely on his eyes for measurement. "Come in," she calls out towards the door. Yoshu enters, followed by Gherta and a handful of other servants, and lastly by the Lt. Commander himself. "Your Highness," he says in a deep rumbling voice, bowing as the others curtsey. It could be noted that even though their bows and curtseys are meant for both, none of those who arrived look at Theowyn, as if they would prefer not to acknowledge that he is there, alone, with the Princess. At hearing the voice and the scuffling of slippers and boots, Elyse's brow furrows, "Did I not make myself clear that I did not wish to be interrupted?"

Well, there distance is likely less then appropriate, and putting shame to any heard rumor that Andoran's were rather strict in courting. But Theowyn does look between the soldiers and then to Elyse, pondering briefly if he should leave before deciding that he will stay for at least the answer to be heard. He says nothing, only offers a reassuring squeeze of Elyse's hand.

Yoshu responds, "Yes, Your Highness. I beg your pardon, Your High--" but is interrupted by the Lt. Commander, "My apologies Your Highness, but considering recent news from Mayene, we thought it a priority to be sure we are more . . . available for your protection," his eyes pointedly seek out Theowyn's at the last.

Theowyn looks to Elyse when the Lt. Commander provides his report. "I see it is time for my departure, Princess," he states quietly, hoping the blushing from their shared embrace is not too obvious.

Elyse furrows her brow, worry entering her tone and even mild fear, "Tashana? Shalimar?" she asks quickly, squeezing Theowyn's hand.

"They are well . . . now," The Lt. Commander states evenly, "Though an attack was made. Princess Tashana suffered an injury." He looks at Theowyn, then back to Elyse, "The extent of which was not offered in the letter." Elyse's free hand goes to her mouth as she gasps.

The servants busy themselves with bustling around the apartment, tidying and warming some tea for the Princess, going in and out of her chambers to prepare her to retire eventually. Yoshu resumes his post outside the door, but the messenger of ill tidings remains before the pair.

Theowyn only realizes the full affect of what was announced with your reaction. He takes your hand within his more completely, his eyes finding yours. "Princess..." his voice trails in the unasked question of how she is reacting to this.

Her lips trembling in an effort to ward off tears, Elyse answers simply, "My younger brother and sister," a pause, and deep breath to help her gather herself, "When I had told you that an attack was made on my life some time ago, Prince Theowyn, I omitted the fact that the same event was against all of my siblings as well. My sister and brother were sent to Mayene together in teh hopes of finding the same Sanctuary I have here." She straightens, mild anger entering her tone, "It is also why His Majesty wanted to send me particularly to Mayene." The Lt. Commander nods, as if confirming this.

"Seems to me that you would be safer within the palace then on the road," Theowyn states quietly, holding your hand while the other moves to brush at your cheek. "Though if the attacker dares do harm on the royal soil of another nation, their determination shows. I hope your siblings are well," the last sat with a deep feeling of wanting to help.

Nodding, Elyse lifts her free hand to cover the one Theowyn holds against her cheek, "Thank you, my Prince."

The officer before the pair politely averts his gaze at the affection, but the set of his jaw indicates what he really thinks of it. Clearing his throat he asks, "Princess Elyse, might I have further time to speak with you on these matters," a pause and then, "alone?" Reluctantly, the princess nods, then stands to offer the Prince a proper curtsey.

Theowyn guides the Princess up and then breaks away from his hold on her as one curties and the other bows. "Princess, Light Illume your path and that of your siblings." The voice is a touch formal, but still hides the comfort he yearns to give her. With the lifting of the bow, he turns for the door. "Lt. Commander." The faint acknowledgement is all he gives the man, heading for the door and out, not liking being kept away from his love at the time of her need in the slightest.