you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

It was his casual comment that teleporting was easy. The woman hadn't mastered her fire affinity, she doubted very much she would learn teleportation easily. Yet, perhaps she wouldn't fear it like her fire, maybe Vhalla would find comfort in it. Ideas that she would have to toy with later; exhaustion tugs at the edges of her mind with such an eventful night. "We will see, I very much doubt that I can do it again without Ivan's permission," she sighs, a bit of frustration tainting her lyrics. How true it was, now that her master knew she was capable of such a feat, he would leash her, keep her close always, allow her to only use that power for jobs.

Clasping her fingers together, she toys with them absent mindedly as her mind wanders the possibility that she could teleport. Though she was young when her parents had died, she knew that hardly held an inkling of power compared to her. The depth of her magic was daunting, a never ending well that she had never reached the bottom, the thought has goosebumps lining her arms briefly before she pushes it away. She's able to be drawn out of those dark thoughts even more as their conversation turns back to the bond.

Her own frown mirrors his as he questions about it, sucking on her teeth for a moment as she attempts to gather her thoughts. Turning towards Tetradore slightly, her blue eyes are heavy with tiredness, that frown still tugging at her lips, "It's hard to explain. I don't doubt that it's breakable, how though, that's the question," she sighs before turning away, her icy eyes drifting to the ceiling briefly, "It's like a physical thing, if he uses that bond to command me I can literally feel that pull on it. It feels like I have a rope wrapped around my stomach," she shrugs at him. It was normal for her, her entire life she had been bound to him, those brief years of freedom as a child were but a blur.

"I truly don't think a potion could break it," she admits, though she did weigh the possibility before she spoke, "If I figured out how I was bound to him I would at least have a lead on how to break it. Unfortunately, Ivan doesn't share that sort of information." Her body stiffens as she spins her tale, allowing herself to dredge up those memories that so haunted her, allowing Tetradore to hear her history, to know who she had been before magic had been inflicted upon her. She's relieved as their conversation again finds that steady ground, far away from those memories. A dark laugh emitting through her lips as he suggests she needs practice, "I'm trying," she admits, though she doesn't offer any more information on that.

When he tells her that he had been aware of the damaged she had done years ago, she allows the silence to engulf them. A comfortable thing. She didn't mind spending her time in his presence, he didn't need anything from her nor her from him, she simply found, she enjoyed his company. When it had happened was a mystery to her, but somewhere along the last several weeks of her encounters with him she found a bit of peace in him. Perhaps, she found something more. Vhalla found herself yearning for him in ways that she never thought she was capable of. The way Ivan used her and sold her out to the highest bidder always had her cringing away from the touch of both women and men.

Yet, Tetradore was different, she desired him and it's with these thoughts that she is flushing again, bright red against that white comforter as she's rolling towards him, telling him that she wanted to kiss him. She can see that crease draw his brows down and she has an urge to reach her hand over to smooth it out and she almost does until he's shifting, sighing and running that hand, that she very much wanted him to put on her, through his hair. She's distracted by him, hardly aware of what his words are going to be until he opens his mouth.

Recoiling from him as if he had physically hit her, Vhalla's cheeks flame with embarrassment. She didn't realize that he would deny her, though his reasoning made sense, she felt it was an excuse to not touch her. She almost rolls away from him until he's leaning forward and pressing his lips against her forehead. Again, another wave of embarrassment engulfs her. True, he had kissed her earlier, it didn't mean he had enjoyed it. Swallowing the rejection, she does as he says, rolling away from him, her scars revealed to him, as she falls into a restless sleep, not allowing herself another thought on that rejection. Before dawn, she slips silently from the bed, dresses silently and leaves Tetradore in that bed without her.

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered