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Ish’talla Side
Andr'ial and Ati'yya
Chapter 02 : 05
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Andr’ial paces nervously as the Smith finishes creating the iron of his family crest that will be burned into his Siren’s neck. He hates the thought of marring her perfect beauty. He hates the thought of causing her pain, but he knows there is no choice if he wants to keep her safely by his side. This whole day is making him very unhappy. “They all have to do it, cousin.” Hir’itel interrupts his thoughts as he watches the Smith feed the fire. “You think I do not know this?” Andr’ial snaps, sighing soon after. “I cannot do this to her.” “You are getting far too emotionally involved… and so soon. This is not good for you.” White eyes glare at Hir’itel at the statement and he is about to open his mouth when the door to the hind courtyard opens, two exquisitely dressed Sirens exiting the house immediately after. Both men stare in silence at the two beauties as they approach. In’irda breaks away from Ati’yya, moving immediately to Hir’itel’s side and keeping her gaze down as he looks over her affectionately with a smile. “You outdo yourself every time.” She bows in acknowledgment while Ati’yya walks tentatively over to Andr’ial. The silver haired man can do nothing but stare as she walks towards him, obviously afraid of what is about to befall her and very uncomfortable in her current dress. He finds himself conflicted between wanting to steal her away and rush her home and wanting to gaze upon how beautiful she looks all day. A clawed hand reaches out and she moves towards him. He embraces her immediately in his arms, holding her close as if he hadn’t seen her in days. Blue slitted eyes blink as she’s embraced, the hold her captor maintains on her lavishly adorned body comforting in the strangest of ways. Before they’d left his dwelling she’d been so angry at him for binding her the way that he had done in the beginning, hurt and feeling betrayed for the time she’d allowed him her trust while they’d been alone. Her anger though had ebbed away at the other Siren’s explanations and while she still has so many reservations and she finds herself so doubtful for the events to come, she is willing to at least try and understand as far as the horned man is concerned. But the fear had been growing and growing more with every chiming step she and In’irda had taken here. A fear of being hurt and marked and bound all over again before being thrown into an ordeal she is not wishing to see. Yet here… held by Andr’ial so tightly as if she were about to float away with the winds and his grip is the only thing keeping her from doing it, the fear has once again started to slowly ebb. She felt protected like this with her suitors and it had always made her so happy… just as he has been making her increasingly happy in a way she did not believe he could. Behind them both, all eyes save floor trained slitted yellow have fixed on the pair, the sight of the silver haired figure holding his beautiful Siren so close enough to hitch the other two’s very breath. But time is beginning to pass by and with much effort Hir’itel pries his gaze away, clearing his throat quietly to push Andr’ial into movement as well. He finds it in him to slowly let Ati’yya go and as he pulls back, her sky colored gaze meets worried white and she slides webbed fingers up to touch at a elaborately embroidered covered chest, nodding in a way she hopes he will understand as she does her best to convey that she is no longer angry at what he had done in the morning and that she will not be angry for what’s about to come. Andr’ial smiles very slightly at his Siren before reaching a clawed hand up to her shin, holding her there as he leans in to meet full lips with his own. After several long moments, he reluctantly pulls back, wanting time to stand still so he doesn’t have to harm Ati’yya. He sighs, turning his gaze over to the Smith who nods at him in return and begins reworking the fire, placing the branding iron in the hot coals. Reaching into his coat, the horned man pulls out the intricate mask, not wanting to see his Siren’s expression as he reaches forward and places it gently over her face, locking it into place with a spell. He leans down, placing his lips to her forehead. “I am sorry, little fish. I do not want to do this.” Leading Ati’yya over to a small bench, he sits down and pulls her down on her knees to his front. He takes webbed hands into his and looks down at her with a fair amount of worry before his gaze flicks to the Smith standing behind with the red hot iron. In’irda looks to Hir’itel and he nods, allowing her to speak. Put your head down and do not move, it will hurt less if you do not move. Golden yellow eyes flick up to Andr’ial’s, still locked on Ati’yya own. He says he is sorry. He does not want to do this. The blue haired Siren nods just a little as she stares up into pupiless white, the sheer about of worry painting her captor’s features causing that earlier fear to spring back up to the surface. She hesitates to do as In’irda has told her to do, her breathing growing a little labored as she feels the Smith’s steps stopping close behind her. Slowly she pulls her eyes away, lowering her head until the base of her neck is exposed while her slitted gaze fixes to the patterns riddling what she can see of Andr’ial’s clothing before her. For moments that seem to stretch on forever there is nothing, only the hold the horned man maintains on her hands, the furious pounding of her heart, her breaths of anticipation, and an odd sort of stillness that falls over the air. Then it happens, a searing pain that tears through her lithe body centered on a fire laden blossom somewhere at the back of her neck. Her eyes clamp tightly shut as the scream that escapes her is silence due to the mask that binds, the agony of the metal touching her skin causing her to rip herself instinctually away. But despite the attempt, she finds herself held firmly in place by the now tight hold the silver haired keeps on her hands; the same hold she can’t help returning. The pain is unbearable and seems to last an eternity before the Smith has pulled away but she barely even notices when he does it, the silent sobs wracking her body as her adorned head sinks down to touch near his abdomen causing her entire form to shake lightly in his grip. In’irda tears herself away from Hir’itel’s side to run towards Ati’yya , the golden haired Siren stopped in her tracks by the harsh and possessive look Andr’ial gives her before he lifts the blue haired Siren into his lap, holding her tightly as she shakes. Golden yellow eyes drop immediately and she walks back over to her own master, upset at how jealous she is over how much Andr’ial cares for her. “It is over…” He whispers into the shoulder he lays his head upon. The horned man wishes he could have stolen her consciousness for this, but in sleep he could not make her be still nor would she wake in time for tonight. White eyes peer over to look at the freshly burned mark indicating that he was Ati’yya true owner. As much as he hates to have done it to her, a small amount of pride swells within him that she bears his mark. He nods to the Smith, indicating his approval before pulling Ati’yya back from his grip, calling her name to grab her attention. Blue slitted eyes open, bloodshot from the tears and pain. A clawed finger reaches up to wipe away at her tears. “It is done, Ati’yya, no more pain. No one will ever hurt you again, I will see to that.” He leans forward and kisses her forehead, happy that the ordeal is over finally before embracing her tightly once more. Ati’yya’s head slides down, sinking against the silver haired figure’s shoulder when his hold around her envelopes her once again. The pain is slow to fade and despite the promise of numbed skin, it doesn’t feel as if the salve has done anything much at all beyond smell. She has been injured many times before, both when she was free and after when she’d been taken from her home, but she has never felt anything like that in her life. She had been warned it would hurt and she had tried to prepare, but after having felt it she knows that there would have been nothing she could do to brace against that. The fiery burning seems to throb in tune to her pounding heart and she finds herself wishing with everything that she is to have her body heal in the way that it normally does just so that it will stop. Webbed fingers slide up between the minimal space of their bodies to wrap around extravagant fabric and hold onto Andr’ial tight as she turns her masked face just a little to rest against the side of his neck. Blue slitted eyes close against the new pangs of pain when her body finally seems to listen to begin the process of mending what it can around the permanently seared section of flesh. Andr’ial holds her until the tears stop and she seems to calm, despite Hir’itel’s obvious impatience. He doesn’t care, Ati’yya is in pain and he will do what he can to comfort her. “We must prepare, cousin. They will all be arriving shortly. Ati’yya can be alone until she is to be presented but you must be there.” The silver haired man sighs, speaking without looking up. “In’irda, please ask Ati’yya if she would prefer to be alone or with me until the appropriate time comes…” The golden haired Siren does her best to hide her annoyance. She helps, does what he asks and all she is good for is a messenger . But she bows as always and does as she is told. Your master would like to know if your preference is to stay with him or be by yourself until you are to be presented. If you were to be by yourself, you would be locked within my room where no other could touch you, otherwise you would be by your master’s side. There’s a part of her that wants to be alone, to be locked away where she wouldn’t have to see any others for as long as she can manage it while she’s allowed to recover enough to prepare for the inevitable event to come. But there is another part of her who is afraid that in this place, taken away from this man she will be left vulnerable, with no protection against others that In’irda’s assured her Andr’ial would give her. And so she’s torn between the two choices for a few moments longer, one of instinct and one of fear before she decides that she would rather not be left in others hands, away from the only familiar foreign face in a sea of terrifying strangers so she bows her head towards the horned figure and tightens her hold around the intricately patterned fabric he wears to indicate she will remain at his side until the entire night has seen it’s end. A small smile forms on Andr’ial’s lips and he holds her tighter, happy she has chosen to stay with him. He does not want to be apart from her but after such an ordeal he would prefer she be the one to choose. “Then I will tend to her before the others arrive.” Clawed hands wrap around Ati’yya to lift her up as he stands, carrying her with him as he moves towards the doors and pressing his Siren close as she adjusts her grip to wrap around his neck. “We will meet you in the main hall.” Hir’itel moves past them with In’irda in tow, disappearing down a side hallway to wait for their guests. Andr’ial moves to the nearest bath, entering and closing the door behind him before walking over to a small bench contained within and sets Ati’yya down before moving to the sink. He grabs a towel, wetting it slightly then returning to kneel in front of the blue haired Siren, wiping the cloth over her face. Clawed fingers reach out to take a webbed hand and he brings it to his lips. “I will keep you with me, I will protect you, little fish. Once this night is over you will not be required to attend again.” Standing, the horned man moves behind, pushing her head forward slightly to get his first good look at the brand. It was well done, well placed and for what it is worth, he is happy with the work. Tentatively, he takes the towel up to her skin, starting well below the mark and slowly working his way towards it to remove the salve he was told In’irda would place on it. Ati’yya’s skin had already mostly healed it’s self, but the mark would remain through the rest of her life, permanently seared into flawless flesh. Blue slitted eyes slip shut as the cool cloth moves over the raised brand at her neck, the pain finally beginning to ease. The subtle shaking it had caused is so slow to ease along with though and she does her best to concentrate on the gentle touch of her captor over the feel of the mark itself. She flinches just slightly when the cloth is pulled away and the very tips of his claws move to touch carefully around the edges to begin a slow trace along the pattern itself. She can feel the path of his fingers and the sensitive flesh seems to magnify his movements about a hundred fold. It does not feel as if she has been marked with the small symbol In’irda had shown her earlier in the day, but instead that the pattern must cover at least three times the space on her skin. Webbed fingers travel up and back over her shoulder, the bell and adornments chiming with her movements as the hurt begins to give way to curiosity when she’s overcome with a need to touch as he is touching what has been done. Andr’ial takes her hand, moving it towards the brand and standing back as she explores the newly seared flesh. He hopes that one day she will be as proud to wear his mark is he is to have her do so, but he understands right now all she must feel is pain and fear for what has been done. Looking over to the vanity, he sees a small hand mirror. Gesturing Ati’yya to come over, he has her sit on the bench directly in front of the large, wall mounted mirror. Placing the smaller one behind, he angles it so she can see the brand. Blue slitted eyes pull away from the horned man from within the mirror as her gazes catches the back of her neck through the other. She makes a sound that’s lost against the mask’s magic before she leans in to tap webbed hands at the reflection of the brand’s reflection in an attempt to touch what she can see to have been done. A brief moment of confusion sets in when her fingers only contact with glass before she turns around to face the one behind her and reach for the hand mirror he holds. Andr’ial is so easily caught as he allows his Siren to take the object in his hand and she spends a moment shifting it all around in an attempt to catch the mark in the reflection on her own. Long arms stretch up high above her as she arches back, a soft amused smile brought swiftly to the silver haired man’s mouth as the adornments and fabrics framing her figure shift melodically with every movement she makes. With the mirror held high above her head and her body curved into a near perfect arch he takes a half step forward to wrap clawed fingers around her slender waist while enclosing his other hand around her outstretched own. Her sky blue gaze slides up to meet his pupiless white as he gently guides her arms back down and shifts the object in her grip enough to bring the branded skin back into view. “This…” He leans in to speak quietly into her ear. “Means you are mine and only mine.” His lips move to the side of her neck where he kisses Ati’yya lightly before moving back to kiss right above the mark. “All others will be jealous, but I do not care. I would prefer to keep you confined safely within my home for eternity.” Stepping back, Andr’ial lets his Siren continue to look at her brand, reaching back ever so often to touch at it lightly, only to pull away quickly from the sensitivity. After several minutes, he reaches for the mirror, gently removing it from her hand and placing it back down on the vanity before reaching to pull her up. “We must go.”
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