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| Olivier & Helena; otp: I don't want your crown, I have my own | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 24 2017, 01:41 PM (160 Views) | |
| Abi | Apr 6 2017, 12:47 PM Post #11 |
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If Oli was feeling sick, what would Helena do? well first and foremost order everyone except a bare bones staff to some paid time off because goddesses forbid anyone see him sick and 'exhibiting weakness'. XD Ok omg Olivier just put both hands on his heart and he just is like, quietly 'you're so good.' <3 and of course Miss "Establish My Potion-making In The Very First Scene" would have made him a tonic to help his health that he would have to take every four hours. it would have her blood in it of course. she wouldn't force bed rest on him. but 'i am going to be here, in this bed all day, so you choose where you want to be.' &. Spoiler: click to toggle Olivier: ...I don't usually like taking medicine but I may be able to make an exception. I suppo-*coughs*-se. Helena: I would hope so, after I spent my time into making this especially for you. You could always, I suppose 'tough it out', but that's only going to leave you sicker for longer, darling. *she uncorks the vial* And may I remind you that I don't swallow what you give me for my health? *wiggles her eyebrows and extends the vial* Olivier: *He reprops himself back up on the bed as he eyes the tonic warily, even though he smirked.* Well, sometimes hit is for your health. When you let me swallow too much of you. But *he holds up a goblet to the vial, as if meekly asking her to pour it.* Helena: *gently, fondly, rolls her eyes but pours her tonic in the goblet, tapping the end with her finger to ensure all of it got out* I promise, you'll feel better immediately. *She moves flicks of his hair off his forehead and presses her hand against it* You're rather warm. *She takes her hand back and kisses where it was* I'm going to draw you a bath. Olivier: *his eyes are on her rather than on the glass as he points out,* I already do. *It was far from his best line, but, leave off, he was feverish. Or 'warm'. Distracted as she kisses him, he muses around the lip of the goblet before finally giving in, at the promise of a bath.* With you washing me, how could I say no? *He gingerly tastes the tonic, eager to see if she had slipped her blood in to it* Helena: *She smiles at him, touched, and then it turns smug in triumph.* Right answer. And finish that, I wasn't kidding about making it myself. *She walks to the fireplace and takes out her wand and with several but practiced flicks and movements she brings his copper tub out of storage and fills it with water. She raises the temperature to lukewarm, testing it with her hand. His fever was high enough that the warm water would provide relief and cool him down.* Olivier: *He makes a childish face but dutifully swallows. If there was a hint of her blood in there, it was well masked with herbs; he couldn't discern between. Or maybe that was just how awful his sinus's were, ugh, he so rarely got sick he didn't really know what to do. So he closed his eyes as he waited--well, one eye, the other rested on Helena as she worked. After clearing his throat,* So when did you learn healing medicine, anyway? I never found the classes particularly illuminating due to the lack of...practical experience. Helena: *She had a truthful answer and a more truthful answer. Despite it though, she didn't hesitate. Some secrets weren't hers to reveal.* It was always felt like a natural extension of potionmaking and poisons. That which heals can harm in large doses. The reverse could work as well. And my cousin, Malcolm, you might recall he was first brought to court very ill as a baby. He was saved by his own parent. My mother always expressed regret at not being able to save her sister. Duke Stuart said it was too late anyways, but I know my mother still thinks what if. Alysa is still far better at this than me, however. *She crumbles up some elderflower and adds it to his bath and then looks back at him, smiling* Need help getting out of your clothes? Olivier: That's very noble of you. I confess, it is not a thought I came to naturally myself. *He tended only to look at magic of any kind as a tool, for good or ill, one he used but would never pretend could only be used the one way. Sitting up gingerly and rubbing over his chest, he nods.* Yes, please darling. *Look, he wasn't going to turn that offer down, she was taking such good care of him.* Helena: Nobility isn't only of title, it's of behavior. If only I could teach half our gentry that. *she reaches him and first checks to see that the drank the tonic entirely and begins untying his shirt and pulling it over his head.* when's the last time you got sick? I would assume this is a rare occurrence. Olivier: You lead us all by example, princess. *He rubs his throat idly, groaning in spite of himself when she tugged the shirt off; it was sticky, and gross, and he so dearly wished the circumstances were different.* Indeed, incredibly rare. It may be more than half a decade, honestly, it takes a very virulent strain. *Looking up, he points out quietly,* Aren't you afraid you'll catch it? Helena: *she threw his shirt over her shoulder with a spell attached so it could find its way to the laundry basket and smiled at his concern* My only concern is getting you back to perfect health. Besides *she teased as she reached to untie his breeches* princesses don't get sick, don't you know? Olivier: Is that so? *He chuckles as he watches the flight of his shirt.* What's your secret? Because if it's in that blue blood of yours, *he grins* it still didn't work for me. Helena: Darling, just because I love you doesn't mean you're entitled to all my secrets. *tugging his trousers down* Keep the mystery alive. *winks* Olivier: You know all of mine. *He teased, while he gestures down to what she revealed.* What, is that a - * he finds himself coughing, which sort of spoils the effect.* ...I was going to say princess prerogative, darling, but apparently my body is yours to command as well. Helena: *she restrained a giggle as she stood upright again, giving his trousers the same treatment she did his shirt* Good, and it is. Come on, I don't want the water to cool too much, it'll worsen you. Olivier: *mumbles something incoherent and naughty**, grinning* Nonsense. If you cast the spell, it could never make me worsen. *He laboriously rises, leaning on her arm as he walks slowly, playing to effect and plainly far from used to sickness.* Secrets could distract me from this pain, you know. *He gingerly tests the water with a hand, surprised how pleasant it felt against his skin.* Tell me something, at least. Let me pretend I have some modicum of control here. Helena: Your faith in me is inspiring. *It was only half in jest. She was touched by how much trust he placed in her to let her help him.* Fine, I'll say you've earned it. Get in, and I'll tell you. *She drew a stool, sitting next to him and waiting until he's submerged- well not completely of course.* Avoid getting your hair wet. *She picked up a sponge and soaked it in the water before conversationally bringing up* Remember when I first approached you about that cursed stone? Olivier: *He gently lowered himself into the water, obeying her without complaint. Well, his face may have complained a very small teeny amount, but ignore it, it wasn't personal.* Remember it? I treasure the visage of your playing in the fountain. *He shifts under the water, wager for her hands on him, in whatever capacity.* Helena: *she smiles, meeting his eyes to let him know it was a treasured memory for her as well* I specified when we entered our agreement that you could not ask questions about how I came across it. *She brought the sponge to his neck and wet the nape carefully avoiding his hair* In truth, it was gifted to me, or my family, more broadly. One of my subjects as I toured the town of Eoin gave it to me, "for your majesties, long may you reign". I'm used to receiving such gifts and trinkets. The stone was originally set in a necklace, there was no magic emanating off it, I had no idea at first. Olivier: *Carefully craning his neck forward as he listens to her, comforted by her touch even if he was aching all the same. Curiosity gave way too affront as he considered what she said.* They intended on you being cursed?! *It didn't matter that he was sick, fevered, naked, wet. It only mattered to him that she may be in danger. His eyes darkened, even as he tried to remember she had trusted him with this.* Who. Helena: Me, or my family. Or my family through me? *Helena shook her head and then put her free hand on his shoulder as if that would stop him from rising from the tub. She hoped it did.* I don't know. The necklace broke a few days later and one of my servants picked it up. The stone adhered to the palm of his hand, like it was set there, it made his mind go blank, there was no one there. I sent my most trusted guard back to Eoin to find the woman who gave it to me, but she was gone and no one knew who she was. Olivier: *He let her push him back down, of course. He wasn't too weak to defend her -- if anyone could make him overcome the fever, it was her. But she was risking herself (as if that was new) just to take care of him.* ... We should find that servant. *He moves under the water, looking up at her as he held on to the hand on his shoulder.* We may already have broken her curse, but if not, I bet we could undo some of the damage. *He exhales, then, remembering how well she had listened to his story, asked -albeit hesitantly,* Were you frightened, Helena? Helena: He's well taken care of. *She assured him, or rather informed him and reassured herself.* I made sure of it, and his family well compensated. I checked in after we destroyed the stone and he's recovered some but...*She swallowed and couldn't say anymore. Instead she took his hand and scrubbed the sponge gently against his skin* I suppose I must have, but I just remember being so -furious-. I've never done anyone any wrong, save for a few bruised shins and private parts...how could someone hate me and my family enough to do that? Olivier: *He nodded to show he understood: it wasn't enough, but it was all she could have done at the same time. His eyes stay on hers even when she fell to watch her hand and her work. There was fury in her gaze still, a fury he recognized well and, honestly, found endearing.* It's unthinkable. *He murmurs.* But you're just proving to me that you continued in spite of it. I ... can confirm that level of fortitude and strength and beauty can inspire great envy, Helena. *He darts to kiss the top of her palm, never minding the soap, and, accidentally getting a little of his hair wet. Just a little.* Helena: I never contemplated doing the opposite. *She hadn't been hurt only by sheer luck. She was more vigilant now.* Envy? Is that what it is? I surmised it was fear. *He distracted her from her own line of thought with his kiss, his messy but undoubtedly clean, kiss* You're horrible at taking directions *she teased, and then moved her hand to scrub up his arms* I haven't told anyone that, save obviously for those that were involved. Olivier: *He could see why she liked when he talked about his own secrets now. It was an unusually warm feeling, never mind the fact his skin was still heated from fever that had unfortunately little to do with her touch. Grinning,* Guilty, princess, I'm far better at giving them. You're my exception in the ability to give them in the first place, honestly. *He dutifully turns his arms over for her, contemplating how if he were feeling better, it would be fun to pull her in.* ..I'm honored by your confidence. Do you want to find the perpetrator? Fair warning, I will have to, I imagine, suppress the urge to make a meal of the woman. Helena: Your exception. I like the sound of that. *grins, her worry lessened as she felt his temperature normalize for the moment. She knew it was a temporary measure until he finished sweating the fever out, but at least he would be comfortable. Then her smile left, replaced by a hardened stare* And suppress the urge you will. That is not justice and, frankly, you are not making a meal out of anyone but me from on. Olivier: *Calmly,* I will listen to you on the matter always, princess. I had the feeling you have inherited your father's - albeit nominal in some cases - anti-execution stance. I simply am reminding you I could, if you were to ask for vengeance. *He softened his look as if wistful, urging her to forgive him as one might a puppy.* And oh? You think you can sustain my appetite? Helena: *She almost winced at Olivier's description of 'albeit nominal' knowing exactly who he meant but then she remembered -exactly- who he meant and there was very little leftover guilt for her to express.* But I am not. I would not ask that of you, Olivier. *she cupped his cheek, brushing it with her thumb. Then she raised her eyebrows* Do you doubt your princess' prowess? Olivier: *What a strange way to put that. He curiously tilted his head, unintentionally getting a cheek wet before he remembered the water, and scooted forward. The tub was copper and bright, but he knew there must be some kind of spell keeping it comfortable. She meant she wouldn't use him as a weapon, he realized, despite his half asking her for the permission to be one. Quietly, he swallowed a raw throat and let her raise his chin from the rippling current.* Doubt and caution are subtly different, truthfully. I assure you when I am healed, I will be ravenous. *He brought a hand up to hers, lacing fingers under the water.* Have I offended you with my wickedly hungry, protective heart, my princess? Helena: Such words. I'll suppose we'll have to wait until you're healed to find out. *She smirked and then chuckled* Well you certainly don't flatter me by insinuating I would not be enough to satisfy you, my lord. And don't *she pointed at him with the sponge* you dare, I know exactly what you're thinking. Olivier: Ah, but this is how you know I speak the truth. And if you are reading my mind now I worry for how sick you must feel too. *He wiggles both eyebrows and then laughs,* That is a very dangerous, er, sponge, I take it? Helena: *huffs* Well I already know you're feeling loads better: you're being cheeky and far less reverant. *she wets his nose with the sponge* Perhaps I'm making a mistake nursing you back to health. *She stands to move the stool to a better position so she could wash his back.* Olivier: My wit is my sanity. *Prodded, he chuckled.* But no, no, I am perfectly reverent hold on, * he promptly makes as if to bow, considering that she was going to wash his back anyway. Softening again, he adds as he holds on to both sides of the tub,* I have been only drinking from you. Helena: And the decaying of everyone else's, I'm sure. *She teased, pulling him back from his mock bow. Her movements still at his admittance, a small smile on her face* Good, I'm glad. A princess isn't used to sharing, you know. *then she realized what it meant* are your servants... Are they missing the income? Olivier: A side perk, to be fair. *He lets her raise him back up, thinking idly he hated the entire idea of sickness right now, but at least she was being gentle and loving to his body. Even when berating him aloud, if only in jest. Surprised by the question, he tilts his head.* I did not...yet dismiss anyone, nor lower their salaries. They do have other duties, although...*he hesitates, not wanting to hide but...* ...Is my estate management something you truly want to hear about? Helena: *she nods* that's good, they are no doubt dependent on the income from that particular duty, I would hate to inconvenience them. *she presses the sponge against the nape of his neck once more, noting it was dry and warming* yes, why wouldn't I? Olivier: *Tilts his head back, bemused as she cleans his neck at the idea of revealing his throat to her. It was occurring to him - somehow only now - how vulnerable he was in this position.* I suppose because it could be considered an intimate affair. *One usually only done in conjunction if between a husband and wife. He smiled up at her, albeit upside down.* In that case. One woman did express her dislike of needing to take up cleaning work in place of it, as she had grown I imagine, rather accustomed to being able to lounge around in the middle of the day. Helena: I'm washing you right now *she pointed out despite blushing pink for a moment- she knew what he had meant. Then she laughed* She expressively stated that? *she shook her head, more amused than affronted* Well she's likely not to find another task where she can lounge around and get compensated. Olivier: And doing a wonderful job with my poor, aching, ailing body, if I may compliment you so. *No amount of sickness was going to keep him from licking his lips at her blush, though. Smiling (a bit in relief) when she takes it in stride, he nodded his agreement,* She did, and with a lovely pout and unsubtle stroke of her neck. *He moves one hand under the water, watching as it rippled in latent memory.* I imagine not. I'm unique in the need as far as I know - seeing as how my brother has successfully divested himself of all interest -- and I pity anyone who would attempt to share him with Princess Stefanie in the first place. Helena: You may. *she enjoyed listening to it* She sounds lovely. *her tone was dry which was an impressive thing to be near a tub* Perhaps there can be a compromise. A way for her to give you the nourishment you need without the intimacy. Olivier: Does she? I thought it a tad desperate myself. *He was distracted by another round of coughing and when he emerged he was leaning his head back into the tub crevice. Shrugging his shoulders in fitful discomfort, he was stirred back to speech when Helena had rubbed his cheek, a thumb bridging his lip and making his eyes flutter in enjoyment. Assuring her he was all right, he allowed,* Perhaps. I am still intrigued by the idea of your sustaining me alone. Though there are other household matters that go along with such. A few of the nobles had learned it was a good way to curry favor with me, and I will not have them harassing you, princess. Especially, *he mumbled, rubbing his wet and soapy and rasping throat,* as you have been so tenderly attentive. Helena: The desperation can be excused. She was being paid to lounge around in the middle of the day and have your mouth on her neck. *Well and to risk her life.* Oh my poor darling *she rubbed his chest after he finished his coughing fit. She couldn't deny her preference at being the only one feeding her lover. The term "household matters" however was a bit suspect.* I wouldn't worry about it. If ever there were a noble dimwitted enough to go to -me- to gain -your- favor, they'd be dealt with by me. *She placed a kiss on the top of his head* I'm happy to be of help. Which reminds me, I should have Teresa prepare you a spot of tea. Olivier: *And other places, but he thought he best leave that matter be. He enjoyed her playing along with him as he nodded,* She'll be most envious of you, but surely your graciousness will ease the matter. *Like her hand was easing his raw throat and sore chest. Smiling at the thought, he idly asked,* With a lemon, perchance? I know they're out of season, but...I cheat. *He wasn't sure how helpful lemons were in healing medicine, but her tonic had done it's job in loosening his congestion, clearly. Then he added,* I suppose...it's far more likely they'll come to -me- to curry -your- favor, in truth. *Huh. Weird.* I pity those that try. Helena: oh I dearly hope so. *she smiled, wicked before she clarified* To help ease matters. *she chuckled and then nodded* as it happens, hot water and some lemon would help your throat. *She smirks* I do as well. *she stands, giving him the sponge* I'll go tell Teresa now, finish up. Olivier: *Reluctantly taking the sponge, he teased half-heartedly,* You didn't want to finish yourself? *Sure, what with his frequent coughs and shivers, he had no doubt this would have been more enticing another day, but he was going to complain all the same. He was quick to finish lathering, paying particular attention to his stomach and chest, which were still sore, and ankles that he swore he saw actual bruises on. That worried him. Then he rested back, having no interest in leaving the warm water before she returned. He was thinking about all she had told him, confided in him, mulling it as he soaked and let his eyes close. He was, gently and frankly, in awe of her. Helena had not let a hint of her anger show, all business and only a moment or two of fear when she had brought the stone to him. The way she had demanded his cooperation first stood out in his mind too; the most angry she had been had been at him, and his insinuation he may use it. It was her footsteps that roused him again to ask,* Helena. What would you do, if you found the person who had attacked you? I ask only because... I do not know if I listened to you well, before. Just now, or that day you arrived... but I'd like to. Helena: it's a sad day when I have to finish myself with you around. *She winked. I won't be long. *Normally she wouldn't even have to leave the room but only the critical staff was around now, per her instructions. And Teresa had been with Olivier his whole life. When Helena reached the woman and requested some tea, Helena didn't even need to specify with lemon. It was clear that was the default. Actually, she told Teresa, instead of tea can it be half hot water and half lemon juice, plus some honey? It'd probably have a better chance of being drank. Helena waited for it, chatting with Teresa while she did. It was mostly polite chit chat the kind that she'd grown accustomed to receiving from most people. She thanked Teresa for the lemon water and the company, and returned to Olivier.* Honestly? *She handed him the cup and saucer, then brought her stool to sit next to him again* I would want to talk. Ask her why. The not understanding is tearing me up the most. Of course then I would bring her in to stand trial before the king, the sheriff and the council. Depending on what she told me I might speak in her defense for a lenient ruling. But I can't...I'm furious. I want her punished. What could she say to me that could stop me being this angry? I don't know but I'd like to stop being angry. Olivier: *He listened, accepting the cup. Surprised only mildly when it did not seem to contain tea--or was the weakest, most lemony tea he'd ever had--he did not question it, but drank it eagerly all the same. It was soothing as it tickled down his raw throat, making him swallow reflexively. The water was cooling, but despite the fact she had to coax him in, now he felt she would have to coax him out as well. Nodding after another sip,* What do you think causes the anger? Is it fear for your families well-being? Hurt, since your family tries to protect the people, and still must suffer such indignities? *Olivier swirled the water with one hand, idly as he considered her.* You handled it most honorably, after all. Did not rage after the village she claimed to be from, or threaten. Not, *he swallowed,* that I am remotely surprised. Helena: I suppose...it wasn't that I was ignorant before of the dangers we face. And it clearly cannot be compared to the institutional persecution of sinbornes, but it made me wonder how many other threats like this has my family faced quietly? How many plots have been intercepted and handled, how many other attempts at our lives? Are there more? Was this the act of a single person or a group? If it is a group, will they try again? Where will they come from? So I'm angry at the fact I can no longer live in a world where I believe I'm safe because I'm the princess. *Helena huffed* And yes I'm also angry because we're good and just rulers, enough to be flirting the line of unpopularity with the nobility who keep us in power, and we're not perfect but we don't deserve to be attacked. *With a receding frown on her face, she looked back at Olivier as he complimented her.* I'm not sure I even handled it at all. I kept it from my family, paid off the servant and his own family, and privately tried and failed to hunt the woman down. Do you think I am right to keep this a secret? Olivier: *His eyebrow peaked at the casual mention of 'institutional persecution of sinbornes.' It wasn't as though the topic had never come up before between them, but he was still...surprised, to hear it mentioned as if it were a foregone conclusion. It was refreshing. That was far from the only thing on her mind, however, and he found himself reaching out of the water to find a towel so he could dry his hand before taking hers again.* That sounds handled to me - at least until the fact you do not know who the woman is. *Olivier shrugged. A bare, perhaps, tiny voice in his mind that sounded suspiciously like Antonio, was protesting that the family members should be told. He ignored that voice.* I believe it's right to keep such attempts in close confidence. It is the sort of rumor that can undermine what your family is trying to achieve. Further more, selfishly, it would open up a line of questioning into how we disposed of it that I'm not predisposed to enduring. *Olivier squeezed her hand, then allowed,* I would argue close confidence could include your aunt, who likely could shed further light on the matter. But that's if you want to. What matters is if you believe you're right. Helena: *His hands were pruned. It probably was an odd detail to focus on when he was trying to assure her and give her comfort. She nodded, agreeing with his reasoning. She'd thought the same thing to herself over and over again, after all. It helped to hear someone else agree with her aloud.* I've thought of telling aunt Abira...but she would insist on telling my parents. Or at the very least insist that -I- should tell my parents, hint that she no longer keeps secrets from her brother, and give me a look that says "I know you'll do the right thing, Helena". *She exhales and chuckles* How I wish now it were just about stolen candy. *She turns back to Olivier and uncaring about his sickness placed a quick kiss on his lips.* Thank you for listening. Now get out of the tub. Olivier: Princess Abira Faye, utterly and completely honest with the King of Yei Tir? *His tone was wry, suggesting, gasp, he didn't think it likely. All thoughts of her family - particularly parents and brother - however, fled when she kissed him. He wanted to protest that she'd get sick next, but the words died on his lips. He had a cure for that, after all, running in his veins. (Or he should. Perhaps he'd have to nurse her as she was him now instead, seeing as how this virus seemed particularly virulent.) Grinning at the command,* Yes, princess. *He hands her the cup back carefully so she can set it on the stool behind her (he hadn't finished it, after all). Then he carefully pulls himself to step out, waiting for her to wrap a towel around his waist and rubbing at his neck. As she did, he caught her wrists and pulled her into him.* Always. A shame I cannot return the favor and bathe you yet. I like seeing you wet. *He winked at her.* Though as it happens, I have many ideas for sadly platonic activities we could engage in my bed. Helena: *she giggles* it doesn't matter if it's true or not, that's what she would say! *most likely anyways. She dried him off immediately. They were close to the fireplace but she didn't want him to get sicker. Once she finished wrapping the towel around him, she smiled as he pulled her closer* I'm aware. You've been getting me wet since I first visited. *Her smile grew wider and then nodded* sounds perfect. And I promise we won't have to leave your bed for the rest of the day. Olivier: I still wager it is not true, of course. *The towel was gentle and firm as she rubbed against his skin, helping him stay standing as he focused on her instead of the unfortunate dizziness. Her tending to him was as lovely an image as he could envision for himself. Bemused, he teased,* You just look so beautiful soaked for me, I'm shameless, princess. * As evidenced by the way she helped dry him in such sensitive areas. As she slide his arms into his robe, he fluffed out his hair, wincing at the thought of getting his pillow wet. Perhaps they could sit nearer the fire first.* Are you more a fan of word games or shall I ask you to fetch my household accounting books? So you may continue to peek at what I pay my staff and for what services? Helena: I do enjoy word games, maybe even a bit more than I enjoy card games but I confess, now you've made me curious. I did send quite a number of servants away. I know a duchy requires much but *she teased and then softened* you're sure? Olivier: I find I have enough to be made queasy at, without pretending to be disheartened by my own desires. *He reached for the cup again as if to prove a point, enjoying the lemon immensely as he moved towards the fireplace. His chest was exposed beneath his robe, turned toward the flames, as if he couldn't decide if he was too hot or too cold. At her question, he considered. How far should he push her understanding? Was he hoping too much that she would comprehend his needs? Daniella had accepted his diet; it was his magic practices she could not abide...if most of those were in the past. Olivier took a deep breath, and then offered,* Top right drawer in my desk over there has my personal ledger. You'll need the spell. *He leans to whisper it in her ear, inhaling her sweet and flowered scent. If anything could make him feel better. Pretending to be intoxicated by how delightful he found her scent, he collapsed artfully and rested in the chair without spilling a drop.* ...Just until my hair dries, I promise. I can't stand a wet pillow. Helena: *She could feel the latent power behind the incantation even without it being casted. It sent a shiver down her spine although that also could have been just the effect of his hot breath on her skin. Furthermore, his obvious trust made her warmer than that fire could have hoped. She had to restrain the urge to kiss him again. Testing her luck once a day would have to be enough. She was at his desk when she responded* Wouldn't be necessary if you'd kept your hair dry like I said. *It was a gentle admonishment, and one she only spoke half heartedly. Her attention was now on the ledger she held in her hands. She brought it with her, fully immersed reading it, and sat down next to Olivier* Damn no wonder she doesn't want to clean. Olivier: You're lucky you didn't tempt me into making more of a ruckus, pft. *He waves it off as he settles in the lounge chair. There was no denying the fact he was far more comfortable now than he had been before; the water seemed to have loosened his joints, the not-tea was soothing his throat. But...his face could tell her that. She had dismissed his servants for the most part, but that didn't mean everyone in the building he had no need to impress with his strength was gone. Watching her mouth round out in a small little 'oh', he smiled, fingertips brushing over his own mouth.* Why princess, I do believe you issued a minor vulgarity. That's worth my generosity in all regards. Apart from the fact they were risking their health and lives, of course. Helena: *after a sheepish smile, she nodded in agreement* Of course. It is only fair...I wonder. And please don't feel obliged to reply if it implicates you, but are you reporting the full amount of their income? My dear friend Rosalind was the first to teach me about the books and presented one of the Stuart ledgers in example. The sizes of your duchys are comparable but the tax...*she raises her gaze and then wiggles her eyebrows at him, waiting to see if she would get more than silence as a response* Olivier: Aha. Really, my princess? *He chuckles as he considers her. It should have been an expected first question, although to be honest he had been more expecting inquiries after his...other credit lines. Perhaps she hadn't gotten there yet.* You want to talk erstwhile taxes when I'm already feeling ill? *He chuckled again, taking what sadly turned out to be the last cup of tea. Turning in the chair and tilting his still-wet hair towards the fireplace, he shrugged a shoulder.* I assure you I have paid no more tax than required, as any noble gentleman would. Additionally, I have made several loans to the crown, you'll see, though not all have been strictly monetary in respect - I believe there was a church I donated use of this year, a port? I forget, you'd have to remind me. Helena: There really isn't any better time to speak of taxes, might as well. *She flipped through of pages. As she would have expected, the ledger was heavy and extensive.* Yes, I do see. The crown thanks you for your generosity *she snorted and chuckled, flipping through more records. It was when the thorough annotations became more succinct that she slowed to read more carefully* "Purchases, NT"? What does it stand for, are they initials? Hardly think it stands for "no touching". Olivier: *He shifts, nodding,* My national patriotic duty. Of course, it's taken on a more...personal duty, in my mind. *As she slows down, and gets closer to the more recent, suspect accounts, he sets the cup down.* Ah, touching is always encouraged. No, that stands for 'near term', I'm using that to forecast expected income from sale. Helena: Patriotic duty, now that's a new term for it. *She looked at the amounts under "NT" and looked back at him. He seemed to be waiting for her to reach a specific line or item. Rather than keep reading, she asked* Sale of what? Olivier: Is it not? *He sat up a little straighter, correctly gauging that she was just going to ask now. And for once, he seemed to guess correctly when it came to her. Delighted by the thought he was getting to know her so well (she had just bathed him), he answered simply.* Magical implements. *He stretched out a foot, pointing out,* I make quite a bit from it, in truth, as you can see. Helena: I can. A very broad term, by the way. Implement. Like a tool. A broom is a tool, but so is a sword. *She looked at the prices again. Not broom prices.* Do you discriminate when it comes to your clients? Olivier: Indeed. *His eyse sparkle as hers were doing the same, even as she seemed to check herself against the list.* Discriminate? *He clears his throat, willing it not to interrupt them; dammit, this was a very important conversation, vital even, to their longevity - something he cared about deeply. Why must his body be getting in the way?* In what way? Helena: *She smiled. When they first began developing their relationship past the pleasant (if forced, on her part) chatter of court appearances, Olivier expressed enjoyment and refreshment at her blunt speech. Blunt is what she went for.* Who are you selling them to? Olivier: Anyone who will buy them. So, *he continued smiling as he 'allowed',* no, I do not discriminate. For the most part of course, they do not -work- for anyone who is not a witch in the first place, but there's no need to keep them from feeling our goddesses...Love and protection. *He picks up a nearby cushion to place over his lap. As his hair was drying, he was beginning to yearn for the bed, particularly if he could rest on her as she read.* Helena: Hmm. *Unsure if satisfied, Helena dropped her gaze to read again, trying to put physical images to all of the dates, people, annotations and money accounts. That was, until she noticed Olivier fidgeting, and on the cusp of beginning to sweat again. It was time to get away from the fireplace. She stood.* Now can you please take me up on the offer of 'not leaving the bed'? *She held out her hand and smiled* Olivier: *She was still struggling to put it together, he could see, but surely she couldnt be too upset? They had cast a spell of damoyei together, after all, and what with her casual mention of sinborne oppression...* Caught me, then. *He took her hand. Grateful in spite of himself for her assistance, he could not help but gesture,* You are a bit overdressed for such a day, I imagine. Even if you are bringing my accounting ledger to m--our, bed. *He said that purposefully, if half in jest. After all, she -was- offering to stay there all day with him, as he sweat and coughed and drank more of her tonic. Least he could do was acknowledge shared possession.* Helena: I suppose I can make myself more comfortable, but only if you promise to behave. *Perhaps she should be warning herself instead. His sharing only made her want to curl up next to him even more. If Olivier weren't sick, this might be the happiest she's ever felt. Once he was seated, his ledger on the bed next to him, Helena began to shed off layers. Her shoes were first, of course. The cold stone was a comfort after being next to the fire. With most of her outer layers off, she walked up to him and turned around* I am not keeping the bodice on just for your viewing pleasure, so if you please. Olivier: That's quite all right, I would prefer to embrace you than a metal contraption. *He tried to make that sound gracious - though his need to cough into his sleeve probably lessened the effect of it. The room was quite warm still, he thought, while his fingers made short work of her laces. Nimble and practiced at undoing it, he couldn't help but run fingers down her spine in a gentle, adoring carress and leaned in to kiss over the fabric once. Just as fast, he pulled back, admitting,* I'll behave, I swear princess. Now. *And he started sliding back on the bed, bringing book and princess with him, not bothering to get under the sheets(it's way too hot). The bed was welcome to his sore joints and aching body, though nothing made him feel better than to see Helena resting down beside him.* Did you enjoy learning ledgers and finance with the Stuart's as a child? I know how you love to read. Helena: Your generosity truly knows no bounds *she teased, waiting for him to undress her- her eyes fluttered closed in appreciation at his touch and kiss, only to stubbornly open. She was about to gently remind him that she didn't linger when she undressed him but his words were repentant enough.* I just wanted to hang with my friends. *She grinned* It didn't matter what we were doing, not till later anyways. *She told him more, quieting only when his breathing evened out. She smiled, made sure Olivier was comfortable as he slept against her and then reached for his ledger again She could get used to this.* |
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10:51 AM Jul 11