"Revelations and Reassurance"

Log Date:
	11/11/1999

Log Cast:
	Amber, Jenean, Richard

Log Intro:
	Thanks to meeting the business end of a knife and his stubborn refusal
to submit to a healer's attentions, Richard's had to hole up in his Bordertown
flat while he recovers. And thanks to the swift attentions of the flame-haired
Auvrey, he's been patched up quite well indeed. But Richard's absence from the
Song has not gone unnoticed--and so none other than the Siren's own mistress,
Jenean, has come looking to see what's kept the Rook away from her 
establishment. Finding him wounded, she's promptly come back with the Sylvan
healer Amber to attend to him. And between the two women, Richard soon finds
himself receiving a very unusual method of healing indeed.
	One which, inevitably, has led to the women discovering a secret he
usually does his damndest to hide from everyone in Haven. And eventually,
Richard must realize what he's revealed....

----------
Curled in a tangle of arms and legs, Amber stirs. Years of plying her trade 
  keep her from instantly stretching as she wakes, her only movement the 
  flutter of her eyes and a sudden, deep breath. She lazily peeks open one eye 
  to survey the room and as she remembers where she is, a smile spreads over 
  her lips.

Her partner in crime is sat on the edge of the bed, finger-combing her hair. 
  Smiles, lazily, on seeing her wake. Softly, "Hush. I think we kinda wore him 
  out."

Amber almost chuckles, but it makes no sound. She shifts slowly and in one 
  sinuous movement until she is up on one elbow and regarding Jenean over the 
  expanse of Richard's body. Her words are just loud enough to be heard but 
  pitched low so as not to rouse the man between them. "I never expected 
  anything else." She winks broadly at the woman, "I think only you and I can 
  actually keep up with each other." A broad grin comes out along with a 
  sparkle of mischief, "And I cheat.."

Jenean laughs, low in her throat. "Y'still got a bit t'learn, eh?" Her hand 
  sweeps her hair back off her face, and she looks down at Richard, sprawled 
  on his front. A long silence.

Amber shakes her head carefully, not moving more than that, "No. I allow 
  myself to be tired when I wish.." She, too, follows the glance and her smile 
  fades away. She almost reaches out to touch the marks that criss-cross his 
  back. "I cannot do anthing more than I have already for these.." She seems 
  profoundly unhappy about that fact.

A nod. "Why?" she asks, of no-one in particular. "There's three folks I know 
  had that done to 'em." She pulls her knees up, hugs them, chin on her arms. 
  "Maybe four: I have m'suspicions. But..." She sighs. "Ok - one of 'em I 
  didn' know 'cept as customer. But one is one o' my best friends. One's 
  Richard."

An unreadable expression passes over her face, "We likely won't know for a 
  long time, Jenean. Richard.. he's not about to talk about this easily. Such 
  tension in his body. Every time you went for the laces, the buttons. It was 
  like being thrust into a fire the fear that ran along his veins." She looks 
  up and smiles wryly, "The shock of deciding to fight or flee is not all that 
  pleasant to feel, second-hand..."

A nod. Softly. "I know. S'not what I meant, though: I don't *care* why. S'him, 
  now, that I happen t'be kinda fond of. What he did doesn' matter. 'Cept if 
  it bothers him." That familiar gesture again, hand running through her hair. 
  "Jus'..." She hugs her knees again. "How could someone *do* that?"

Amber's expression darkens slightly, "How can you ask that question, living as 
  we do? People can do anything, and often the more depraved the better. It 
  is.. disgusting."

Jen shakes her head, laughs, just a little ruefully. "S'just me. When I was a 
  kid...." She smiles. "I saw most of th' things folks c'd do t'each other 
  pretty early. But .. wings..." Looks over to you. "Y'know me an' wings. I 
  ain' much fer th' gods, but an Empy's wins fer me - s'kinda one of th' 
  things that's proof they're out there."

For one rare moment, Amber's expression doesn't change a hair--the kind of 
  moment where one comes into the contact with the complete disbelief in which 
  what another is saying and the absolute desire not to voice such a thought 
  at such a time. She ends the instant with a nod, neither agreeing nor 
  disagreeing but simply signifying she heard what Jenean said, "And that's 
  exactly why they do it, I'm sure."

She sighs, leans over and touches Amber's hand, perhaps a quiet thank you for 
  what was left unsaid. "Now I proved I'm daft, mm..." A quirky half-smile. 
  "What's t'be done, mm?"

Amber shakes her head slowly, "I cannot even Heal the scars. I've eased them 
  somewhat. They will not pain him as they might have in the past, and he'll 
  find it easier to stretch the flesh--no more binding of that tight skin. But 
  I simply do not have the skill to do more. Cynara could erase them and I 
  suspect do even more than that, but I do not know how far her talents 
  extend. But you see how he reacts when he even thinks there is a Healer 
  about. His wound.. I left it unHealed on the surface so he will not suspect, 
  but the deeper parts are cleansed from within and already knitting well." 
  Her hand falls to his back, settling there against the warm skin as she 
  closes her eyes. A flush rises in her cheeks. "Oh, dear..."

Jenean blinks. Softly, concerned. "What, love?"

Amber pulls back her hand and rubs the back of her neck, "Obviously I should 
  not sleep with one hurting such.." She looks quite uncomfortable and a bit 
  unhappy with herself. All that careful work yesterday for naught.

Jenean mms. "FInished th' job anyway?"

Amber sighs softly, "You have it in one, Jenean." She shakes her head, musing 
  aloud, "I will just have to tell him not to touch that bandage and hopes he 
  thinks the poultice was effective..."

Jenean nods. "Or y'could come clean."

Amber snorts softly, "Oh, yes. Come clean. That should be interesting.."

The soft voices over him have continued to have no effect upon Richard. 
  Facedown, his dark tousled head turned with his face mostly buried in the 
  coarse-covered pillow, he's barely stirred enough to breathe while the two 
  women speak of him. It's no surprise he's not so much as twitched -- after 
  all, the man's wounded. Still, though, some niggling sense at the back of 
  his mind begins to grow aware of the warmth of curved forms to either side 
  of him, and his head shifts a little. A tiny breath of a sigh escapes him.

Jenean settles a hand at the nape of his neck, caressing, softly. Murmurs, 
  "Only us, hon."

Amber subsides back onto the bed, bothering to stretch a bit now that Richard 
  is waking and letting her body rub along his.

Richard can't remember the last time he's felt so physically... relaxed. That 
  sensation is the first thing he notices as his mind rouses itself in bits 
  and pieces. The next thing is Jen's hand upon his neck... and Amber's 
  strokings somewhere to the right of him. And then memory returns, bringing 
  with it a flare of consternation. A tremor of reaction shoots through his 
  frame, and he begins to try to turn over, looking up and around at the women 
  with wide eyes and an oddly vulnerable gaze. He doesn't speak -- but if the 
  look in his eyes is any indication, it's not tough to decipher what he must 
  be thinking.

Jenean lets him turn, slipping arms round him, gentle and warm. A soft, 
  blue-eyed smile. "S'alrigt."

Amber lays one hand in the small of Richard's back and teases warmly, "Jenean 
  told you you didn't have anything we haven't seen before." Behind the 
  teasing is deep sympathy, and although it shines in her eyes, it doesn't 
  quite reach her voice.

He'd looked Jen's way first, but as Amber speaks, Richard swings that 
  strangely defenseless gaze of his towards the other woman as well. He 
  swallows, just once, and then turns over on his back -- removing that 
  evidence of what he once was out of immediate view. There's not much room to 
  turn in the bed, either; it wasn't intended for three. And pulling it off 
  saps some of his still-depleted strength. Richard winds up slumping back 
  where he lies, staring up at both his companions, and at last he forces a 
  tiny lopsided smile. "Fascinatin' form of healin' ye two got there," he 
  rasps.

Soft laughter, and Jenean leans in to kiss him, lightly. "We bin practisin' a 
  while." Hair brushes against his cheek and jaw. "Always helps t'have a 
  patient who enjoys it."

Not as depleated as he might think it is. There are benefits from sleeping 
  with a Healer aside from the fact she can't keep herself from fixing what's 
  wrong with him. Amber watches Richard twitch and roll, her concern fading 
  into wry amusement. "I'd daresay you rather enjoyed it."

"I... feel better," Richard admits huskily, the smile growing a little 
  steadier. That's all he says, though, as though he might possibly fear 
  uttering too much. His voice hints at careful control, though he hasn't yet 
  managed to extend that to his eyes; very likely, the man has no idea of what 
  those twin points of blue are relaying for him. For the first time since 
  either of the women have known him, he looks almost... shy.

Amber groans slightly and sits up. "Never has anyone been so reluctant to 
  praise me.. afterwards." She grins wickedly. "Maybe we didn't prove our 
  point well enough, Jenean."

Jenean chuckles a little. "Perhaps. Or maybe he just ain't listenin'."

This makes Richard smile a trifle more. "I... appear to be little more than 
  mush at the moment, loves," he murmurs. "Hope ye'll forgive me not whippin' 
  up a sonnet in both your honors...?"

Amber purses her lips and then laughs. She rolls over on top of Richard and 
  grins right down into his face. "Oh.. I suppose." She rolls back off the 
  other side and past Jenean to stand up.

Jenean, being Jenean, gooses her on the way past, grinning.

They know. They can't help but know. This occurs to Richard now that he's more 
  or less awake, and a little frisson of fear brings a chill through his 
  system. But he manages to hide it, instinctively trying again for the 
  strategy of avoiding the topic entirely. His finely moulded mouth quirks, 
  and he promises with something like his normal glib tone, "Ye'll have that 
  sonnet when I can think again. I... thankee, loves. Both of ye."

Of course they know. It's not as if they haven't seen it before. What does 
  Richard think Amber's comment was about, after all? She shrugs and reaches 
  for clothing, slipping back into it. "I'll come back for the sonnet later 
  and to take that bandage off." She grins impishly and pauses half into her 
  clothing to shake her finger at the man, "And don't you be taking it off 
  before I tell you.."

Jenean stretches, a touch stiffly, and moves to sit up. A smile at Amber. 
  "I'll catch y' up, hon."

Amber chuckles softly, "Sure you will. I'll see you later, Jen." Clothing on 
  she stoops to plant a quick kiss on the woman and then on Richard while he 
  still can't evade before she sweeps up her satchel and out the door.

Jenean watches her go, shaking her head and laughing, softly.

Richard watches the Sylvan go as well, before his attention slides ever so 
  slightly uneasily back to she who remains. "Thankee, Jen," he whispers, 
  keeping it to that, the gratitude detectable enough in his expression though 
  it's not entirely able to offset the hesitance that's gripped him.

Jenean turns and settles herself half across his chest, nose and eyes on a 
  level with his. Softly, "Yer welcome." She reaches up, smoothes his hair. 
  "Ye any idea how long I wanted t'do that?"

The ebon strands riffle through those dextrous fingers, and memory of what 
  else those fingers have been doing brings what looks suspiciously like the 
  faintest hint of a blush to Richard's pale cheeks. He lets himself smile 
  again, a crooked little one-sided smile, but he still doesn't let himself 
  speak. The only answer he gives is a slow shake of his head.

Jenean smiles. "Since about a heartbeat after I met ye." She stretches up for 
  a soft kiss. "An' I still do." A pause, then gently, "Lemme spell it out fer 
  ye, ok? Cause I figure if we drop hints, y'll find a way t'pretend it wasn' 
  what we said." A hand caresses his cheek. "Yeah. I saw yer back. An' it 
  ain't th' first I seen." Curiously soft, almost tender. "It doesn' matter, 
  love. Not t'me. Person I care about is th' one I known fer th' last ten 
  years, an' knowin' doesn' change who y'are. Only reason I care at all about 
  it is that it bothers ye, an' that upsets me." Another soft kiss. "And we 
  ain't gonna tell."

Once again, Richard's expression turns unusually awkward, though he manages 
  another wisp of a smile at the gentle attentions of hands and lips. You 
  could say there's been a new layer added to him... or you could say that a 
  layer has been stripped away, revealing a new one beneath. But either way he 
  is still 'Richard', and being given this assurance coaxes a glimmer of 
  relief into his twilight-colored eyes. "You... dinnae need to be upset for 
  me," he says at last, low and soft and earnest.

Jenean smiles, plays with a lock of his hair. "Y'lost somethin'." Gently, 
  "Somethin' that when I was a lass I used t' think was one of th' sure signs 
  there really was Gods." A sad little smile. "In yer shoes, I'd want t'curl 
  up an' die," Arms settle round him. "An' maybe I'd want t' hide it an' 
  ferget." Lips curve in an oddly gentle smile. "So let's, mm? Just as long as 
  ye know there's me an' Amber here who knows, if y'ever need t'talk." She 
  kisses him. "Yer always gonna be Richard, no matter what."

Curl up and die... hide it and forget. Richard's eyes go very dark at both of 
  those suggestions, though he doesn't expound on whether he's wanted to do 
  the first. That he's tried the second is obvious enough. Nor does he offer 
  any commentary on the notion of wings as a sign of connection to the gods -- 
  no vocal commentary, at any rate. His mouth does twist into a darker edition 
  of a smile. But then his expression softens, and he lifts up his arms to 
  curl them around the woman leaning over him. And he whispers, "Ye're a 
  treasure, Jen," before answering that kiss.

Jenean mms, softly. "Took ye this long t'notice?"

"Took me this long to be able to say it," answer Richard, just as softly.

Jenean smiles. "There ya go." She kisses him, soft, lingering. "Y'get th' 
  little speech everyone gets, 'kay." Light, teasing. "You ain't th' only one. 
  But it don't make ye any less special."

"I wouldnae dream of presumin'," comes the man's murmured reply. Not a 
  Mongrel, not anymore... but not entirely an Empyrean, either. But still, he 
  is Richard, and a semblance of calm is coming back into his eyes, now that 
  the topic is veering away from dangerous ground.

Jenean laughs. "Y'can presume all ya like. Y'know where my room is."

It is tempting, extremely tempting, to know that he no longer needs to 
  disguise himself for the sake of answering simple physical needs. Taken in 
  conjunction with this gentleness he's been shown, that knowledge makes 
  Richard look liquidly up into Jenean's eyes, lifting up a lean-fingered hand 
  to trace the contours of her cheek. "I'll remember," he promises.

Jenean kisses his nose, playfully. But those blue eyes are oddly frank. "Lemme 
  tell ye one more thing. A lil' secret. In Amber an' my job, everyone looks 
  th' same in th' dark."

This time, Richard's grin is swifter, a flash of white against his fine-boned 
  features. "I'll remember that, too."

For that, he gets a warm, lingering kiss, and then a teasing laugh. "Yer a 
  sick man. I better not."

"I have the suspicion," murmurs the raven-haired fellow in Jenean's arms, 
  "that I'll be on my feet again soon."

Jenean chuckles at that. "Suspectin's bad fer yer health."

Richard dryly replies, "I do a number o' things bad for me health, love... 
  this, however, doesnae qualify." He runs a hand back through grey-streaked 
  wavy tresses, then lets out a low reluctant sigh. "Ye're right, though... I 
  try anythin' else, I think I'll send meself into the afterlife." His hand 
  moves to rub across his eyes, blearily.

Jenean mms, and snuggles up close. "Sleep?"

"I... think I should," Richard ruefully confesses.

Jenean offers, softly, "Want me t'stay?"

Richard considers this, feeling oddly exposed, and this having nothing to do 
  with the fact that he is currently separated from his clothing. But on the 
  other hand... Jen's body against his is warmly inviting, and his tangled 
  thoughts are welcoming the simplicity of a caring woman sleeping at his 
  side. "I'd like that," he murmurs.

Jenean snuggles up, arms round him. It truly does not seem to bother her that 
  her hands rest on scarred skin, nor does she apparently react any 
  differently. A smile. "Good."

Good, indeed. Richard lets himself hold Jenean close, turning his face into 
  her tousled hair... and letting himself surrender anew to sleep.

[End log.]