The Hawk and The Rat

Compliments

Sunlight leaked through the tree leaves overhead, spotting the earth and its inhabitants with golden light. The breeze that weaved between the trees was cool and soothing on the warmed skin in comparison to the humid heat of the season. It was overall a lovely day. At least there hadn't been any unexpected rain showers yet. That much Hyrrokkin could appreciate if nothing else.

The day had been slow but enjoyable, to say the least. Things had been relatively quiet for once in the Dam camp, and although Jarmo had come by, he'd been much quieter than usual. He had apparently been content to sit in silence while Hyrro read from her latest novel. One thing that had been equal parts relieving and concerning though was the absence of Vankasken and the Court today.

As of late, the necromancer had been over her shoulder at every possible interval with some inane comment about her. All of his sharp-cut joints and angles were distracting enough on their own, but coupled with that deep, confident voice of his practically purring in her ear she could hardly focus on anything. He was driving her absolutely mad!

Things had gotten to the point where she was snapping at the magister almost instinctively everytime he opened his mouth. Naturally, as he most often did when she rebuffed his attempts to conversate, he'd brushed her harsh words off and carried on chattering. At least that's how things had gone up until the last time she'd told him off. He'd gone quiet and at first, she hadn't noticed, immersed in her work, but with his eyes burning through her back and the oppressive silence growing in strength, she'd soon had to turn and acknowledge his presence. Which for her, meant a sharp jab at him. Still, he didn't say anything in return for once, merely gave her a knowing smirk and shrugged her off.

He'd left sometime after that, muttering something about gathering his brother's and she hadn't seen him since. It pained her to admit it, but she was worried about the boney necromancer. He'd very quickly become one of the few constants in her life and she'd be damned if she let any more of those slip away, even as annoying as this one might be. With this thought in mind, she found herself resolute in her need to seek him out and let her eyes flutter open.

Every muscle in her body was tensed and ready to spring off of the blanket she had been sprawled across when she became acutely aware that she was no longer alone. She shot up and her breath got caught in her throat as she peered into a familiar pair of green eyes. Hyrrokkin hardly had the mind to stop herself before a quiet, almost disbelieving, perhaps even relieved, utter of his name left her lips.

"Vankaskan."

The corner of the necromancer's mouth quirked, sly and knowing and it set the Dragonfire in Hyrrokkin ablaze. "You almost sound like you missed me, Fireheart?" Vankasken purred, leaning forward and arching a slender brow. "Now isn't that just a treat?" he continued. Hyrro scoffed and rolled her eyes.

In that brief instant that her attention was diverted, there came a decisive hum from Vankasken's direction. When Hyrro turned back to question him on it, She'd found he'd moved closer. Much closer. His nose tip brushed against her own and she could feel his hauntingly cool breath ghost across her cheeks as he practically climbed overtop of her. His eyes peered into her own as if searching for something and then there came a low, breathy chuckle and his gaze dropped ever so slightly.

"You really don't know how to recognize, nevertheless accept, compliments. Do you, Hyrrokkin?" he asked, earning an arched brow from the blacksmith beneath him.

The sound of her actual name rolling off his tongue sent an involuntary shiver down her spine and caused her mouth to go dry for a moment. When she finally regained herself, she let her brow furrow and jaw set. "I-" she paused. Still uncertain how to continue. "What?"

Seemingly exasperated by her apparent cluelessness and confusing, Vankasken seemed to deem a different approach necessary. Without another word, he reached behind her head and pulled her towards him as he surged forward to meet her lips with his own. He'd clearly caught the witch off-guard as her hands had almost instinctively moved up to his chest, prepared to push him away, and then she hesitated.

Something faltered in her resistance and to both of the magister's shared surprise, she found herself melting into Vankasken's touch, leaning forward and letting her eyes fall closed. The kiss was hungry and hot and lasted merely a moment. And then they were pulling away from each other, and Hyrrokkin found that her hands had slid up his chest at some point to wrap around his neck and her fingers had begun to play with the silky hair at the nape of his neck.

It was slow, lackadaisical even as they breathlessly stared one another down with hooded eyes. Hyrrokkin found herself struggling to find both words and reason at the moment, but luckily she needn't seek either out for Vankasken quickly filled the silence with that rumbling voice of his, like thunder rolling in from over the mountains.

"You have a nice laugh."

"You're arms are just as strong as your personality."

"How is it that you always look great, even when drenched in sweat?"

He continued prattling on and with each comment, Hyrrokkin became deftly more and more aware that he was relaying all of the things he had said to her over the past few days. Those tiny "inane comments" now had her face flushing and heart pounding. When he finally finished, and her skin was promptly hot to the touch, Hyrrokkin bit down on her lip and couldn't help the shame that crept up her neck. It hadn't been something she'd felt in a long time.

"I'm sorry," she elected to start with, speaking slowly, and surprisingly quiet, "I've never been used to receiving compliments." She paused, brow furrowing even as she diverted her gaze. "I've rarely ever received compliments," the witch added much more clearly.

At her explanation, from the corner of her eye, she just barely caught the frown that flickered across Vankasken's face before he was shaking his head and letting out a soft chortle. Then, his flesh and blood hand was gently cradling the side of Hyrrokkin's face in its palm and turning her to look back at him, his forehead resting against her's and his green eyes searing into her.

"I suppose I'll just have to change that," he finally replied, a sly grin spreading across his lips and flashing his yellowed teeth. Hyrrokkin's stomach practically flipped, at his words and she almost swore she could see a knowing twinkle in his eye. That is before he had his lips to her's again, and was laying her back against the blanket beneath them.

Annoying as he was, he had become a constant in her life, and she'd be damned if she was going to let him go.