Her first job for the Alliance had finally come. Faeyra recognized and embraced the pounding of her heart in her chest; nerves were natural, under the circumstances, and could help keep her alert and on edge when she needed it the most. She slowed her breathing as she made the final approach towards the Forum, her hands gripping the reins of her own horse and an unfamiliar mare she'd been instructed to take from the stables. A tall, well-built man waited at the base of the steps, and she drew up next to him as she tried to make her shoulders relax.
"Well, hello there," the man said cheerfully, his voice deep and booming. His face was creased into a smile, the sort of casual warmth that some people just exuded. His voice carried a faint accent - probably from Earth somewhere, though Faeyra hadn't enough knowledge to pinpoint where he might have originated. She studied his face curiously, relaxing. This was the sort of man she was most familiar with, the sort she'd always gotten along the best with back home - she was familiar enough with the sort to recognize them at first glance. She returned his amicable grin with one of her own, adjusting her grip on the reins to offer him a hand.
"Hello, I'm Faeyra. I've been instructed to pick up Lady Thyri for her ride. Could you tell me if I'm in the right place?"
"Nice to meetcha, Faeyra," he returned, giving her hand a friendly squeeze in return. "I'm Bjorn. And you're in the right place, but I'm afraid it'll be awhile." He nodded his head back the way he came, wiggling his eyebrows at her a bit. Catching his meaning, Faeyra blushed despite her best efforts, making Bjorn guffaw with delight. "Might as well get comfortable. Did you hear the one about the..."
As she'd predicted, the two of them got along just fine, enough that she hardly noticed the passing time until they were quite late for their ride. She cast the sky a careful look; not too gloomy or overcast, and still a long while to night. The delay wouldn't interrupt much, all things considered, and it had given her another new contact on Shaman. At last the two appeared at the mouth of the temple, hand-in-hand. Faeyra's breath caught in her throat at the picture they made: powerful, sensual, beautiful. She resisted the urge to fidget, drawing in a careful inhale and releasing it in a careful exhale. She could do this. She would do this. The two broke apart, the man going with Bjorn, and Faeyra turned her attention to the woman.
"Yes, my lady," Faeyra said politely. She slipped gracefully into her saddle, feeling Seven adjust to her familiar presence. Seven was built strong, from lean warhorse lines, but agile and quick enough to keep up with Thyri's own mare; had that not been the case, she would have been in a spot of trouble, and Faeyra had breathed a sigh of relief when she'd first laid eyes on the other. She ducked her head to hide her grin at the tone in Thyri's voice - Bjorn hadn't been lying when he said Thyri would be displeased with a woman guard - before she straightened in her saddle, her face and expression neutral and respectful once more.
"I'll do my best not to be a burden, my lady," she replied, just a hint of wry humor in her voice.
|
|
♥♥ drawing by the AMAZING ALICE ♥♥ |