Marth accompanied Dalanesca back to the Courthouse, happy that she chose to heed his advice. "I do believe there's an elegant way to handle this," he said, as the two approached the building. "And I am positive you'll pull through. I mean, getting my head in order - a greater feat than you realise," he said, smiling warmly. His smile soon vanished, however, his expression going grim. "Which reminds me. We should not linger in the Blinded Scales much longer. I believe it is soon time to go to Egjora, and have a look at Borza's mansion. We need to get in there and check his correspondence before news of his death reaches the city." As the two passed through the entrance, Marth was interrupted by a black-clad magister, carrying a dark, elaborate cuirass.

"My lord Redeemer and Destroyer," the young man said, addressing Marth. "And my lady Justiciar." The young man returned his attention to marth, getting straight down to business. "The cuirass you requested, my lord. Forged, enchanted, and engraved as per your instructions." he handed the armour over to Marth, who took it and inspected it closely. "Thank you. You may resume your previous duties." The magister made a stiff bow, and strode off. Marth looked at Dalanesca, apologetic. "Sorry, should have told you. I commissioned a new piece of armour to function as my badge of office. Dragonscale." He showed Dalanesca the armour, with a weak smile.

The chestpiece was made primarily of fused dragonscales - welded, almost, though not through means of fire. "It was made by fusing the scales together using highly corrosive basilisk venom," Marth explained, as he walked towards the room myter was being kept. "As you can see, mithril links allow for more flexibility around the abdomen, easing my breathing." He pointed at the links as he explained, showing how the starlight-coloured links, weaved beneath the dragonscale plates, allowed him to breathe more effectively. "The surface of the cuirass has been polished," he said, showing the engraved surface of the chestpiece. The image engraved into the armour was one depicting a large pair of scales, the symbol of darkness on one side and the symbol of light on the other. In front of the scales was a silhouette - a robed man, half-shaded, half-illuminated - wielding fire in each hand. And behind it all, as well as engraved clearly on the back of the cuirass, was Marth's chosen device - a sunburst set aflame. The cuirass also came equipped with shoulderpads, attatched to straps which also held a sheath for the Guardian Dragon Lance.

As the two walked towards where Myter was being hosted, Marth made a clumsy and rather undignified attempt at putting the cuirass on while they moved. Eventually, however, the plate got stuck at his shoulders, and marth was left blind and with the cuirass stuck halfway down his chest. This forced him to stop, and for a moment, he just stood there, blinded by dragonscales and his arms stuck in an awkward position, one through the arm-hole of the armour and one stuck in the neck opening. The silence lasted for three seconds before Marth, in an utterly defeated tone of voice, spoke up. "I have never worn a plate chestpiece in my life." A few more seconds passed. "This particular piece of armour is obviously unfit for unassisted assembly." Another few seconds. "I beg of you, Dalanesca. Help me."

Dalanesca’s expression mirrored the solemnity that had overtaken her companion’s as he spoke of their impending trip to Egjora.  “Right,” she said.  “Fortunately for us, I believe time passes in a different manner in my realm than it does on the mortal plane of Revaliir,” she said, a flicker of pride in her eyes.   “It affords us time to attend to affairs in both this realm and in that realm,” she added.  “But you are correct - we should not delay much longer.  While time passes differently, it does still pass, and we mustn’t take any chances,” she said, nodding.  Her eyes shifted to the magister that approached them, quirking an eyebrow as her gaze caught the dark piece of armor that the aforementioned magister carried with him.

She stood by silently as the magister addressed the two of them, inevitably giving his full attention to Marth.  They spoke of the cuirass that the magister held, and it turned out that Marth had commissioned the piece.  After the magister had retreated, she listened to Marth as he addressed her, chuckling slightly.  “You needn’t tell me your every move, Marth,” she said, with a smile.  “I trust you to make the right decisions - and that means knowing what knowledge I should immediately be granted, and what things can wait until they came up.”  With that being said, she fixed her gaze back on the armor, taking in the workmanship that had clearly gone into it.  Dragonscale, of course, seemed to be fitting for Marth, with the type of magic he utilized.  “It looks wonderful,” she said, and grew silent again as he explained it a bit further.  

Dalanesca allowed her gaze to wander to each of the components that Marth described.  She could see that a lot of thought had gone into the design, and she was happy to see that Marth seemed to be embracing his two sides, if one could refer to them as such.  “Quite fitting for you,” she said, her voice soft and accompanied by a smile. 


She gave Marth a sideways glance as the two of them continued towards the room in which Myter had been located, seeing that he was somewhat awkwardly attempting to put on the cuirass.  She opened her mouth to offer him help, but thought the better of it, not wanting to seem as though she found him incapable.  When he stopped, she did as well, and stifled a laugh.  “You don’t say?” she said, when he mentioned having never worn such armor before.  “It’s only mildly obvious,” she added, in a tone which was clearly joking and not offensive in the slightest.  She was already moving to help her companion before he requested it.  After a bit of maneuvering, she was able to re-position the cuirass, and assist Marth in sliding it down over his head, arms now through the proper parts.  “That better?” she asked, taking a step back and looking him over.  “You look good,” she said, with a sly grin, her eyes darkening slightly.  “Very good… it’s a pity we have things to attend to right now,” she said, quirking an eyebrow.

After a moment, they came to the room in which Myter had been situated, and she pushed the door open, heading inside, assuming Marth would follow directly behind her.  Myter was seated on a sofa, a cup of hot mead on the table in front of him.  He looked up at Dalanesca and Marth with weary eyes.  “Dal- er, m’lady..?” he said, quickly correcting himself.  “Forgive me, but I ain’t real sure what I should call ye these days,” he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

Dalanesca waved a hand dismissively and went to sit down next to Myter.  “You can just call me Dal, like you always have, Myter,” she said, laying her hand over his own in a gesture purely made of friendship.  He gave her a weak smile.  “Myter, I know you said that you’ve been feeling offput lately, out of balance, to sound cliche,” she said.  He nodded at her, his eyes brightening with the hope that Dalanesca was going to be able to help him.  “Now, I’ve an idea… but you must understand that this idea is untested.  I have never attempted to accomplish something like what I am going to attempt, and I need you to be fully aware of that.”  Myter nodded in a notion for her to continue.  “I am going to attempt to heal your mind,” she said.  “That’s the best way I can think of explaining it, even though that really, truly does not begin to cover it.  We’re not really going to be sure of if it works, I don’t think… but I feel that it is worth a shot.  What do you think?” she asked, drawing her hand away from her friend.

Myter blinked for a moment, his eyes glazed over in contemplation.  He let out a soft sigh.  “This… ya know this is a big lot to handle for a small minded feller like me, dontchya?” he said, laughing a bit.  “But anything’s better’en thiseer weird feelins I’ve been gettin’” he said.  Dalanesca nodded.

“Then it’s settled,” she said.  She glanced at Marth for a moment, as though awaiting his approval.  When she felt that everyone was in sufficient terms of understanding, she laid her hands on the sides of Myter’s head, her thumbs against his temples.  Myter winced, waiting to feel some sort of pain, but ended up sitting there with a dumb look on his face, staring at Dalanesca.  Her eyes had closed, and she was muttering softly, but the sounds she was making were inaudible, if they were even words at all.

Everything was gray.  Dalanesca was in a room with no windows and no doors, and everything was gray.  In a far off corner of the room, she could see something twisted and shadowy, and it gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.  When she spun around, she could see something twinkling in the opposite corner of the room.  The feeling of unease she had washed away, and she felt incredibly happy.  

She stood in the center of this gray room for some time, glancing back and forth between the darkness in one corner and the light in another.  Eventually, after what seemed like hours, she sat down on the floor, placing her palms flat on either side of herself.  As though she had triggered some sort of switch, the darkness began to move towards her - as did the light.  She tried to pull her hands from the floor but it would not work - they were stuck, as it were.  Eventually, the darkness and the light collided, and she felt completely at ease.  Feeling the pressure released from her hands, she pulled them up from the floor, and everything was gone.

Dalanesca opened her eyes and looked at Myter, then at Marth.  She allowed her hands to drop to her lap, and she leaned back again, reclining her back against the sofa.  She felt drained, and very tired. “That was… something,” she said, though the memory of what she had just experienced was already hazy.  “Do you feel anything?” she asked Myter.

Myter still looked very confused.   “I… not really, t’be hones’… nothin’,” he said.  He looked around the room for a moment, before he glanced back at Dalanesca.  “But now that ya’ mention it… I feel a lit’l less frazzled,” he added, with a bit of a smile.  “I think it mighta’ worked,” he said.

“That’s… that’s good,” she said, quietly, her exhaustion apparent in her voice.  “But now,” she said, her voice still sounding strained.  “But Myter… it’s time for us to get you home now,” she said.  He looked at her with a frown, but didn’t say anything.  “I don’t think there’s anything for you here,” she said, clearly having difficulty forming her thoughts into words.  “What I mean to say is…”  She trailed off, her gaze shifting to the magister waiting by the door.  “Some water?” she asked the magister, who hurried away quickly to grab what was requested.  She turned to Marth.  “Can you explain to Myter what I mean?” she asked, hoping that Marth would be understanding enough to abide her request.  It seemed as though whatever she had accomplished on Myter had taken quite a toll on her, and she was having a bit of difficulty coping with such.

Marth struggled a little as Dalanesca helped him with the cuirass, but it finally fell into place and was properly fastened. He looked at Dalanesca, his eyes downcast and his expression mildly annoyed. "Thank you…" He began following Dalanesca towards Myter, but leaned in and said something to her before the two could enter the room. "May I request that we never speak of this embarassing thing ever again?"

The next few minutes were largely spent between Dalanesca dn Marth. Marth looked on Dalanesca's healing of Myter, quite fascinated, but noted the toll it took on her. Surely it will improve with time, but for now, it seems her powers are somwhat limited, he thought, before Dalanesca addressed him and asked him to explain the situation to Myter.

Marth looked at Myter, and took a deep breath. "What Dalanesca is trying to say, Myter, is that…" He took a moment to pick his words. "You're a little 'close', to be a priest." Myter looked about to protest, but Marth held up a hand. "I know, the same might be said for me. But the facts of the matter are that I have all the education and experience needed to be effective while remaining close to Dalanesca." He looked at her with a nod, before turning back to Myter, who looked puzzled. "I've had training and experience in managing groups of people. I speak five languages fluently. You're a tavernkeep, and frankly, you would be more or a distraction than help." He knelt down before Myter and gave him a smile, which puzzled the man even more. "At least, here in the Blinded Scales. There is, however, a skillset you have which would prove most useful."

"Wassat?" Myter replied, looking hopeful. Marth took another breath. "As a tavernkeep, I'm willing to wager you've developed a decent sense of character," he said, placing a hand on Myter's shoulder. "And in a tavern, you see all kind of people from all walks of life. Back in Adeluna, you're well-placed and well-equipped to scout for people who would serve Dalanesca well," he said, gripping Myter's shoulders reassuringly. "Whenever you get a likely visitor, say a prayer and we can check it out. Dalanesca - and myself - would be inclined to visit often, and you can make yourself useful while still keeping your old life," he said. Myter looked a little bewildered at first, but then the old tavernkeep furrowed his brows in thought.

"So I would'nt be a priest or nothin', bu'… Like, a talent scout? Like those colleges 'ave?" Marth nodded at the question. "Very similar, yes." Myter thought some more on it. "Mmmh… Well… I do wan'ter make m'self useful an' all…" Marth nodded, smiling. "Dilligence is the trait of a good and honest man," he said, smiling. "And I really do believe this is how you can prove most useful for Dalanesca." Myter thought about it, but looked a little sad. His expression hardened - perhaps with some newfound resolve - and looked at Dalanesca. "Y'think so too, Dal? Y'think tha' I'm mos' useful back in th' city?"

Dalanesca found herself unusually grateful when Marth took over the explanation to Myter.  She could already feel her energy beginning to return, but still felt a bit uneasy.  She frowned when Myter seemed to get a sense of hope on his face.  She felt bad enough that her friend who had helped her out in times of need had to be turned away from her realm, but the guilt was intensified by the fact that Marth was the one turning him away, in her stead.  

Soon, however, she found herself feeling intense gratitude towards Marth.  He had worded the proposition for Myter in such a way that the tavernkeep had taken it as a great honor, and seemed keen on the idea.  She nodded enthusiastically at Myter, mustering a smile when he asked her thoughts on the matter.  “I do think so,” she said softly, her smile warming.  “You know that tavern like the back of your hand, Myter, and you’ve always been good at reading people,” she added.  She gave a bit of a laugh.  “Think about it - you gave me, an ill-tempered failed assassin, a chance at helping you out on busier nights… and you saw the good in me… and now look where I am!” she said.  

Myter beamed at her, as though he felt partially responsible for her accomplishments.  “Well, if the two o’ ya think I’ma good fit fer what yer talkin’ bout… I s’pose I’ll take yer word for it,” he said, with a smug look of satisfaction on his face.  “Besides, I don’t think my bar’d be real good in some otha’ fella’s hands,” he said, looking deep in thought for a moment.  

Dalanesca smiled, speaking up again before Myter was able to say anything else.  “Good, then it’s settled,” she said, standing up from her position on the sofa.  She had recovered quickly from the overuse of power she had attempted while venturing into Myters mind, and she gave Marth a quick nod and a smile.  “There’s a reason you’re my advisor,” she said to him.  She turned back to Myter.  “I’m going to have one of the magisters get you back home,” she said to him.  She stepped forward and embraced her friend, who returned the gesture.

When Dalanesca stepped back, a magister entered the room as though she had known Dalanesca would be summoning her - it was clear that some sort of mental connection ran between the goddess and members of her realm.  “Take Myter back to the mortal plane and safely to his tavern in Adeluna,” she said.  The magister nodded, and stood by the door, awaiting Myter.  

The tavernkeep turned to Marth.  “Thanks, fer it all,” he said, smiling weakly.  “An’ I’m real sorry fer the things I said, I didn’ mean ‘em,” he said, his cheeks blushing with embarrassment.  “I’ll be seein’ the two of ya’, I reckon,” he said, and with that he disappeared down the hallway with the magister, heading for his home.

With that matter settled, Dalanesca turned back to Marth.  “I’ve literally never felt that drained in my life,” she said, in reference to her state when she had finished venturing into Myter’s mind.  She glanced out the window of the room they were in, and she could see that the sun had begun to set.  It had been quite a long day, and she was ready to retire back to her quarters.  “I am about ready to call it a day,” she said.  “I think tomorrow might be time for us to head to Egjora, anyway,” she added, knowing that Marth had seemed quite eager for the two of them to begin the next part of their quest in the destruction of shards of Reaver. 

“Will you share my quarters again tonight?” she asked softly, shifting her body to move closer to Marth, closing the distance between the two.  When his answer assured her that they were on the same page, she leaned against Marth for a moment, resting her head on his chest while standing with her body close to his.  For a moment, she just wanted to feel close to him, as his proximity gave her some comfort.  However, her need for comfort shifted into a need for something else as she could feel the heat of his body against her own.  She turned her body, pulling away from him slightly.  

Her eyes darting to the side to be sure of their position, she reached up and placed both hands flat against Marth’s chest and playfully shoved him backwards so he fell into a sitting position on the sofa.  A dark look had taken over her gaze - one of desire, and need.  She closed the few steps between them and took the opportunity to move herself into a straddling position on top of Marth, one leg draped on either side of his.  

Without saying a single word, Dalanesca leaned towards Marth, her head tilting to one side.  Her lips grazed the top of his cheekbone, trailing towards his ear.  When her lips brushed the edges of his ear, she whispered seductively into his ear.  “I want you, Marth,” she said, the words deliberate and to the point.  The tip of her tongue darted out, tracing down the outer ridges of his ear, before she gently nibbled on his ear lobe.  One of her hands trailed down his chest, landing between his legs, firmly caressing him through his clothing.  

Her lips found their way to his, kissing him roughly, her teeth grazing his lower lip as she pulled away.  She looked at him,  her gaze dark and lustful.  “Take me,” she said, quietly.  “Here.  Now,” she said, her voice becoming much more commanding.  “Show me that I am yours,” she said, the connotation behind her voice one of pure need.  With those words, she crashed her lips into his again, hoping he would oblige her request.

Marth found himself very relieved that Myter took to the idea of functioning as Dalanesca’s recruiter. Not only did he honestly believe it was the best place for Myter to be, he had also been very concerned that Myter would be offended by the idea. Luckily, he seemed welcoming to the idea, which gave Marth a sense of accomplishment. “Excellent, Myter. I am certain you’ll find the mission most rewarding. And we’ll make sure to visit you on a regular basis,” he said, as Myter was led out. As the man left, Marth looked to Dalanesca to see if she was all right – but it seemed he didn’t need to worry. “Yeah, let’s call it a day,” he said, smiling, and followed Dalanesca into the hall.
 
As Dalanesca offered her quarters for the night, Marth smirked. “I’d love to, my lady,” he said, returning her embrace. I guess she needs Marth now, and not her Redeemer and Destroyer, he thought, his chest filling with warmth at the idea. He stroked her hair during the embrace, softly, enjoying the feel of her raven-black hair on his skin. Then, Dalanesca pulled away, and as she looked to either side of the hall, Marth perked an eyebrow. What now, he thought, but soon he got his answer.
 
Marth gave a yelp, as he was shoved backwards, finding himself landing with a soft thump onto the sofa. He looked up to see Dalanesca’s dark gaze, his eyes widening. If any magisters come this way, we’re never going to hear the end of it, he thought, and to his surprise, the idea gave him quite a thrill. His heart raced in his chest as Dalanesca straddled him, and he gave the lightest of gasps as Dalanesca began kissing and nibbling on his neck and ear. Yeah, I get that you want me, he thought, as Dalanesca trailed her tongue around his ear. From this position, she might have noticed Marth’s physical response to the plea, as Marth felt his trousers tighten against her. You are mine, he thought, and you know it. So I guess there can only be one thing you want from me…
 
Marth sprang to, grasping each of Dalanesca’s hands and bringing them behind her back, catching her wrists in a vice grip with one hand as his other raced to Dalanesca’s chest, and Marth found Dalanesca’s lips and kissed her intently. As he broke the kiss, he grinned, his eyes flaring with a desire to match Dalanesca’s. “Oh, I’ll show you,” he said, and in a fluid movement, he spun, pushing Dalanesca face-first into the sofa, with Marth behind her. Marth didn’t flinch from using a bit of strength to keep her in place, grinning, as he wasted no time in working the buckles of Dalanesca’s outfit to loosen it. “You better be careful, Dalanesca,” he said with a grin, “for words like that bring out the Destroyer,” he continued, as he mercilessly bereaved Dalanesca of her clothing, exposing her to Marth’s desires.
 
A little less than an hour later, Marth was laying with Dalanesca in his arms on the sofa, gently massaging the already fading bruises on her back, rump, and breasts, smiling. He could not deny it had been a lot of fun. He found himself amazed at the feeling her skin on his gave him, a feeling which staved off the chill draft of the Courthouse halls with ease. He kissed Dalanesca’s forehead, and tried to decipher the feeling, though he quickly came to realise that he’d never felt this way before. Or rather, never so intensely… And never mutual, he realised, as he recalled the days at the academy back in Wyllmochvar. He had been something of a flirt back in the day, though it had never gotten so far as a serious relationship. He’d been close, but never quite there. Moreover, in his army days, there simply had not been time. As the realisation hit him, he found himself surprised at how unsurprised he was, and caught himself chuckling ever so lightly. He kissed Dalanesca’s forehead again, deciding on candour. “I love you, Dalanesca,” he said, not worried about Dalanesca’s reply in the slightest.

With Marth’s arms around her, Dalanesca felt an incredible sense of contentment and safety wash over her.  She was a bit surprised at how willingly Marth had heeded her words, and even further surprised at the dull throb she felt from the few bruises that Marth had inflicted upon her during their tryst.  She smiled to herself, the small amount of pain she felt becoming nothing more than a reminder of the intensity that had just occurred between the two.  Her smile broadened slightly as Marth’s lips pressed against her forehead, relishing in the moment.  She could hear a chuckle coming from Marth, and found herself wondering whatever could be making him laugh in this situation.  Eventually, he spoke - and the admittance of feelings caused her smile to widen.

The words Marth spoke were not a surprise to Dalanesca - it had been clearly obvious to her that Marth loved her, as she loved him - but for him to speak the words aloud gave an entire new light to the situation.  Having intense feelings for someone was one thing, but admitting them aloud was another.  Dalanesa had experienced some shady situations in the past when it came to love, but something about Marth put her at ease, and made her unafraid to feel that way again.  She turned her head to look up at him, and gave him a soft smile, a hand reaching up to rest on his cheek.  “I love you, too,” she said, contently resting her head back against his chest.  

The two lay in contented silence for a bit, before they were interrupted by a magister entering the hall - the inevitable.  The young man had been carrying a tray of food, headed in the direction of Dalanesca’s quarters - presumably delivering her supper for the evening.  He froze, and the tray went clattering to the floor.  Dalanesca glanced at the magister, and back at Marth, before sitting up, obviously not caring about the fact that she was no longer dressed. The magister was scrambling about the floor, trying to pick up the contents of the platter he had spilled.   “Out,” she said to the magister, who stared at her blankly, frozen in some sort of nervous fear.  She spoke again, this time her voice much louder and commanding.  “Get OUT!” she bellowed, in a voice much louder than she had used before, the emotions in her body running high.  The magister let out a bit of a yelp and ran away, the contents of the tray still laying on the floor.  

She sat in silence for a moment, a hand having come to her forehead to rub at it.  “Leave it to my fantastic staff to ruin such a perfect moment,” she said, the annoyance apparent in her voice.  Turning back to Marth, she leaned up to kiss him, her hand winding its way around to the back of his neck to hold him close to her.  After a moment, she pulled away, her icy blue eyes looking at him with a renewed intensity.  “I suppose I did not pick the most… appropriate location,” she said, after a few seconds of silence.  She chuckled softly, sliding away from Marth and moving to put a few items of her clothing back on.  She thought back on the magister that she had raised her voice to a moment ago.  “They just… they stare, so much,” she said, laughing incredulously.  She sighed, and shook her a head a bit.  

When she was decent enough, she stood up, intent on heading back to her quarters, and held a hand out for Marth to join her.  “Let’s turn in, yes?” she said, with a smile, and began the walk to her room.  “Before we go to bed,” she continued, speaking as they made their way to her quarters.  “Care to at least fill me in a bit on what we’re going to be looking for when we check out Borza’s mansion in Egjora?” she asked.  Her curiosity was piqued, of course, and she wanted a better understanding of what the two were going to be getting themselves into this time.  “And are we heading into this one alone?  Or will we be having outside help again?” she asked.  She knew that the finer details of their relationship still needed to be discussed, but she did not want to force Marth into talking about such things when she knew he had other things to worry about as well - if he wanted to discuss their relationship at this moment in time, she would let it happen by his accord, and not her own.

Marth hugged Dalanesca even tighter when she expressed that the love was mutual, smiling. The moment was so perfect; there was of course only a matter of time before it was ruined. Sure enough, a magister soon walked in on the scene. Well, shit, here we go. Sure enough, Dalanesca’s temper flared, and the poor magister was sent packing, mercilessly. Watching the scene, Marth couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “Poor fellow. What did he do, besides bringing you your scheduled supper?” He sat up as Dalanesca began to get dressed, pulling on his clothes and picking up his armour. “Well, there’s no going back, now. If they suspected before, the magisters know for certain, now.” He got up as Dalanesca offered her hand, taking it, and holding it as they walked back to her quarters.
 
Marth nodded as Dalanesca asked about details of what would be going on in Egjora. “I most certainly can,” he said, before his expression darkened as he remembered Borza’s final words. “Primarily, we’ll be looking for correspondence – any indicators about who hired him, and for what purpose.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. The idea of his old mentor being a dark wizard – potentially even responsible for the travesty that had been his final mission – was overwhelming, and tough to swallow even for a rational mind like Marth’s. “We’ll be going it alone this time – while I know the language, I have no connections in Egjora. I’ll be relying on your old skills,” he said, looking at Dalanesca. “Locks will need picking and guards will need evading. I trust you still know your way around a lock?” he asked, opening the door to her quarters.
 
Marth placed his plates in a suitable location and left the Dragon Lance in a corner of the room, looking to Dalanesca. “Mind drawing up a bath for us? I’d like to wake up refreshed in the morning, and ready to leave,” he said, casually ditching his clothing as well. Dalanesca’s concerns about the future had not touched on his mind yet, though something tugged at him and he began to think about it. “And, eh… Regarding us. Now that the cat is irreversibly out of the bag, well…” he took a deep breath. “We’ll need to figure out our conduct.” He suddenly realised how awkward the position was. Traditional minds would likely think less of Dalanesca if the relationship wasn’t ‘official’, but at the same time, Marth figured it might be too soon for that. He stood there, deep in thought, for a brief moment, before tentatively voicing a suggestion. “We could present ourselves as engaged…” he said, looking slightly sceptical.

She nodded, feeling a bit of a thrill that she was going to get to tap into the skillset she possessed before her ascension.  An impish glint came to her eye, and it was obvious that the darker part of her was looking forward to it.  “I’ll get us where we need to go,” she said, with the utmost confidence.  “I can pick a lock so quickly it looks like I’m turning a key,” she said, giving him a bit of a wink.  “We’ll have to be careful, though,” she said, continuing with a furrowed brow as she thought about things.  “We don’t know the layout of the mansion,” she added.  “The good news is that, since we will be the only two undertaking this mission, I will be able to use my new… position to my advantage,” she said.  

She nodded when Marth requested a bath - fortunately, a magister had recently placed a cauldron of water over the fire and it was already heating up.  Grabbing the leather gloves that lay near the basin, she grabbed the pot and dumped the water into the washbasin, bringing the cauldron back to the hearth and hanging it up.  She glanced up at Marth, pulling the gloves off of her hands as he began to speak .  She felt relieved - she had wanted to speak on the matter, but was glad that Marth was the one bringing it to light.  She removed what little of her clothing she had put back on, climbing into the basin before Marth as he spoke.  

She reclined against the side of the basin, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh of mild annoyance - it was clear that the annoyance was not directed at Marth, but rather at situation as a whole.  “Listen,” she said, leaning forward in the water, beckoning for Marth to join her. When he had climbed in, she continued to speak, moving towards him.  “We will conduct ourselves however the hell we want when we’re in public, Marth.  You seem to be forgetting one tiny little detail. I am a Goddess.”  She gave him a smile, pressing her body against his and giving him a kiss.  She pulled away from his lips, allowing him to speak, but trailing her lips along his jaw, neck, and earlobe - though she froze at his next statement and pulled away from him, her body still pressed against his but her face no longer near his own. 

She stared at Marth, trying to find the words to express her dismay at the idea he had presented.  “No,” she said softly.  “I will not present myself as engaged to be wed to you until that time has actually come,” she said.  The look on her face seemed a bit sad, perhaps at the prospect of even thinking about ‘pretending’ to be engaged to marry the man she was in love with.  “When the day comes that we are actually engaged, that is when we will present ourselves as such,” she said.  “I want no part of my relationship for you to be shrouded with lies,” she added.  “When the public knows we are to wed one another, it will be because we are actually going to wed one another - not to keep them from chiding us,” she said.  

She looked at Marth for a moment, before sliding away from him, and resting against the side of the washbasin once more, her eyes looking slightly dejected.  She was worried that Marth’s concern for the public’s view of the couple would end up hindering their relationship, but she did not want to express that to him.  Instead, she cast her gaze to the side, dipping her head back in the water and allowing her hair to fully submerge.  When she emerged from the water again, she ran her hands across her face to push her dampened locks away from her eyes, and leaned back once more with a sigh.  

She looked at Marth for a moment, and continued speaking again.  “However, Marth… if that is truly what want - if that is what will make you feel better,” she said, pausing.  “That is what we will do.  I am willing to sacrifice what I want, for you,” she added.  She would not be overly thrilled, but if he felt the need to put up a false front about what their relationship was and felt strongly about it, she would by all means take heed of his words, even if begrudgingly so.

Marth smiled wearily and shook his head as Dalanesca answered his suggestion. “No, you’re right, of course,” he said, tilting his head back and enjoying the hot water. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with it either,” he continued, sinking a little deeper into the tub. He contemplated the situation, before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Why am I even thinking about this?” he asked, knowing full well that he was, in truth, still affected by the political scene he’d been a part of as a Wyllmochvarian officer. “You’re right, you’re a fucking godess. Noone has moral authority over you, and by extension, noone can claim that same authority over me, either - save you, that is.” He straightened up again, looking Dalanesca in the eyes with a slightly cheeky grin. “Alright, if anyone asks, we’ll just say we’re lovers, and tell them to fuck off. How’s that,” he asked, and made a gesture, inviting Dalanesca to snuggle up to him, in a hope that she’d approve of his suggestion.

He sat there in silence for a while, before continuing. “I’m glad you’re not unwilling to take that step when the time comes, though,” he admitted, figuring there was no point in leaving the topic. “I don’t think we’re quite there, yet, but like I said, I hope this lasts.” He chuckled a bit. “So don’t go snooping in my requisitions for commissioned items from the smith,” he said with a sly grin. “One of these days, there might just be a ring on said list,” he finished with a smirk. He cuddled up closer to Dalanesca. “I’m sorry about that,” he finally said, kissing her cheek. “I guess… I guess I’m a bit paranoid by the whole deal,” he said, hugging her close.

After finishing the bath, he dried himself and went over to the bed. “I’ll tell the magisters and prospective clergy that any questions regarding our… personal affairs, are to remain unanswered. That way, if they jump to conclusions, at least they won’t misinform others.” He looked at Dalanesca with a tired smile. “No falsehoods, right?” He got beneath the sheets, and slumped his head down on the pillow, visibly tired. He looked up at the canopy of the bed, thinking. Pondering. “I’m going to try something,” he said, and cleared his throat before speaking aloud. “Blinded Scales, I bid you notice the magisters to bring breakfast for two in the morning, delivered with a note upon which the word ‘dragonfire’ is written,” he said aloud, before looking at Dalanesca. “If by command an entire realm can be conjured and altered, maybe we can create something akin to a notice board, that the magisters and clergy can get the latest updates and requests without us actually having to do any paperwork,” he explained.

Dalanesca sighed, making her way back over to Marth and turning around, leaning her back against him in the water, and pulling his arms to wrap around her.  “I may venture to speak a bit more eloquently than that depending on who I address,” she said.  “But the thought remains the same.”  She fell silent for a moment, peacefully enjoying the feeling of her skin against Marth’s in the bath.  While she was happy to be with him, the thought of Marth being known as only her ‘lover’ seemed off to her.  He was already so much more than that, but unfortunately society loved to put labels on things, and something would have to be said if the situation arose.  She did not necessarily like the idea, but it would do - for now.  

Marth’s words caused Dalanesca to take pause.  “I would not want this if I thought there was an end in sight,” she said, softly.  “I don’t expect us to be wed tomorrow, by any means… but knowing we are on the same page is nice,” she said, though her words were masked with a shadow of sadness.  She did, however, laugh softly when he made the comment about snooping in his requisitions.  “I’ve no desire to see what you’ve asked the smith for,” she said.  “But when that time comes… nothing too showy, okay?” she said, playfully.  As he held her close, she pressed against him, resolving herself not to be bothered by the situation.  “No need to be sorry - you should feel comfortable speaking your mind to me,” she said.  “Even if I don’t like hearing what you have to say,” she said, as a side note.

She remained in the water, watching Marth as he dried himself off and walked towards the bed, a small smirk on her lips.  “They will learn to keep their mouths shut, or I’ll…” she paused.  “I don’t know where I was going with that - but I’m guessing they would not like what I would do,” she said, laughing at how ridiculous she sounded.  “No falsehoods,” she repeated, climbing out of the tub and drying herself off. She stood in the middle of the room as Marth made his request of the realm, quirking an eyebrow.  “I imagine it would work,” she said.  “The realm takes heed of any of my requests, therefore I would assume you would be indirectly linked to that as well,” she said.  “So essentially, if I will the realm to cater to your every request, then it should be done,” she said.  “It is a good idea - I hate having to chase them around to get them to do what I want,” she said, with a bit of a laugh.

She dried her hair a bit, before venturing over to the bed and sliding under the sheets next to Marth, pressing her naked skin against his.  Her hands splayed out over his chest, she nuzzled her head into his neck.  “Knowing how good it feels to lay next to you… how did I ever sleep before we were together?” she asked, her voice soft, as it was clear she was quite tired and that the throes of sleep were close to overtaking her already.  “I love you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyelids closing.  Soon, her breathing steadied and it was clear that she was asleep.