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[color=6E8E67]Location:[/color] Winton - The Cave[/center][hr][hr]


She couldn’t help but laugh lightly.  Her fatigue made her feel drunk.  The tired giggles gave light to her features as she looked up at him.  [color=6E8E67]“I suppose most men would,”[/color] she responded.  [color=6E8E67]“One can be snarly and cuddly my friend.”[/color]  Friend.  Did she mean that?  She wasn’t sure, merely a turn of phrase which dripped from her over friendly tongue.

Saetan glanced towards the entrance of the cave, he wanted to slip them out of the cave but that was unlikely in his current condition. Though he had been healed, Saetan was still tired and suffering blood loss. [color=Gold]”Snarly and cuddly… I resent the latter.”[/color] He noted with a severe glower though his lips smiled. [color=Gold]”You truly had no idea you were spelled with a lure?”[/color]

[color=6E8E67]“Am I a fisherman?”[/color] she joked back, as was her nature.  She wrapped her arms about his waist. [color=6E8E67] “I would say we are cuddling now, no?”[/color]  It was purely for body heat, she knew well enough.  But her languid, sleepy mind could not resist the chance to poke at a sleepy bear.

Saetan bristled and peeled her hands away carefully. He was not about to let her touch him til he understood this spell wrapped about her better. [color=Gold]”Tell me darling, who wove a spell to draw men to you, more than mere beauty. I would love to have a talk about their excellent skill.”[/color] He crooned in a charming tone. Rubbing her arms to warm them.

She frowned, pulling her body back so she could properly look up at him.  She could feel the sudden rift in the air.  Though his words were honey, ice lined them.  Fatima had no idea what he was talking about.  What had once felt of congenial thanks between the two of them had turned turbid.  [color=6E8E67]“There is no spell to draw men to me.  What a foolish notion.  And if you think I am pretty it is of your own accord.  I did not ask for that.”[/color]  She pulled further back and snaked her weakened way from him. [color=6E8E67]“What is it that you mean?”[/color]

Saetan winced at the sudden hurt he had brought to her. Moving with the Queen lest she chill herself, he felt his jaw grow tight in frustration. [color=Gold]”There is a spell, a subtle spell to draw men to you. Perhaps it is because I wear the Black that I can see it. I do not deny however, you are as beautiful as the first day of winter.”[/color] He soothed, bringing up her hand to kiss her knuckles in a gentlemanly way. [color=Gold]”Apologies, but I must be suspicious in these trying times.”[/color]

She tensed at the touch of his lips against her hand.  Her whole body thrilled with the action.  Each neuron of her being began to sing and demand more.  However, what little preservation instinct Fatima possessed cast a chill over her.  Do not give in, it willed. Yet she did not draw her hand back.  She looked at him strangely.  [color=6E8E67]“If I were to say that I believe you… what is it that could cause such a thing.”[/color]  She was not going to mention his off hand way of saying she was pretty.  Fatima had to admit that a part of her disliked being compared to winter - but then this was of her own preference.  Perhaps he had, just as much, disliked but understood her reference to cocoa and blankets.


[color=Gold]”How you could become so beautiful? Why from bathing in honey and the petals of roses for such fair skin. Combing your hair with the finest of silver combs. The compliments of many men who adore your company and beauty.”[/color] He flattered the Queen.  She, in turned rolled her eyes. An automatic result before he gave a rueful smile and turned her hand to kiss her wrist then release her hand. [color=Gold]”But you mean the spell… A Black Widow of considerable skill. Though I can only hazard as to why.”[/color]

She shivered at the touch of his lips against the throng of pulse through her arm.  With the touch of his lips, they elicited an electric shiver.  If he had not released it she might have pulled it away on impulse.  She was disbelieving.  Her wild hair and silly nature were not Queenly and she did not deserve the pretty things he described.

That was not the focus of this conversation, however.  She pulled her hands to her chest, practically against the ground as she looked up at him.  Fatima could move back from him no further but she would not back down.  His mention of a black widow turned her cold.  A shield went up against him.  Not from one of her stones but of her mind’s cage.  It was not his business and she would protect her friend at all costs.

[color=6E8E67]“All of the Black Widows are dead.  And if they are not, they are not long for this world.”[/color]  For the sake of Faeril she would draw a line between herself and the deliciously warm magic this man wove around her aching brain. She pursed her lips and pressed hands against his chest to push him back so he did not hover so.  [color=6E8E67]“Now rest, it is as your healer commands.”[/color]  Once the pair were straightened she patted his head.  [color=6E8E67]“Good, now be still please.”[/color]  She snuggled back against him and closed her eyes.  [color=6E8E67]“I would rather not speak on the Widows.”[/color]

There was sudden noise and Fatima wrinkled her nose and lifted her head.  Who came to disturb her rest?  They better have some warm blankets.  Instead, she saw Jandar and Mikhail and she blanched.  She was in no state to receive reprimands and punshiments though she rightfully deserved them.  Fatima drew herself up, sitting as straight as she could and smiled.  [color=6E8E67]"All is well, there was no need to rush so.  Someone needed help and I offered that.  I am sorry I worried you."[/color]