boughs-and-laurel

[boughs-and-laurel]

Despite the incoming warmth, Benjamin stiffened beside her as she passed him to step through the door. She turned briefly with a slight tilt of her head, wondering what had caused him such hesitance, but he recovered before she could even consider asking and led them both forward.

She lingered at his side, cloak brushing her arms in an unfamiliar way, and looked to him as he began to speak for them.

His choice of words nearly had her stumbling over the hem of her skirt.

His wife?

The next thing she knew, his arm was tugging, moving away from her, and she followed him on instinct alone, not wanting to be left behind. But her mind was still working, or rather attempting to; what had he done that for? She knew, of course, at least properly. Yet though it was a lie, it still had not failed to send her fumbling. Surely that wasn't planned?

The thought was unpleasant, and was considered only briefly; from what she knew of him, both via correspondence and what was unearthed every current moment she was by his side, he was not the dishonorable sort, and certainly not the kind of man to lead a woman astray. It wasn't clear whether he would even know how to.

She managed to shake most of the shock en route to the table he was leading to -though it briefly spiked once again as he leaned over to whisper to her and his breath touched her skin- and settled herself into her seat. Judging from the flush of his cheeks, prominent even in firelight, her assessment appeared correct, and he had not intended to mislead her.

Impulsive, he said? An unbidden feeling of what could only be described as mischief began to unfurl inside her chest. While she found herself near as flustered as he, she couldn't forget the woman who had written him so many times over. She yet lived, just perhaps a bit dormant. And should he prove himself so fetching while sheepish...

"Well, given the contents of certain... exchanges, I would suppose I've earned myself such a sort of shock." She neatly folded her hands in her lap, trying not to stare at them, and forced herself to lift her head. "Many have engaged over less." She paused, and couldn't discourage the teasing smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Though you had told me you had been planning to avoid such an exact predicament, Major, to spare your heart and others'. What may that tell us of your thoughts?"

Though she should have known better from their exchange of letters, experiencing Benjamin in person was another new side of the beast. One expected an army's major to be stuffy, stiff, following rules upon every line, yet he stood before her with this most endearing habit, charming if not a tad awkward, and frankly about the same as she could manage herself. He reminded her of a schoolboy with his first affections in his heart; shy and unsure, but so very pure.

She felt the heat burning even brighter in her cheeks at his attention. As if she had given him such hope, such reason to continue his service, leading him to finally imagine what life may be like after combat.

If only he could remember his days as a little bumblebee, she would be happy.

She took his offered arm with pleasure, holding to him with delicate fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket, and fell in step beside him as they continued toward the light. She already knew he wished to know her, yet to hear him speak of it with such fondness made something warm deep in her chest. His charm held near fatal, though he was likely oblivious to the fact.

"You flatter me so," she managed to say, her smile easy and shy. "I'm afraid I feel I have yet to earn such fond regard. My words were never false, though I must admit they flow far more easily from pen than they do from one's lips." She nearly ducked her head in shame, but held fast. "Nevertheless, I... do intend to hold to my promises. You give yourself far too little credit, Major."

Momentarily, she paused to lift her skirt with her open hand as they ascended the few steps to the door. Though the of facing those who may know her was intimidating, his presence at her side both soothed and invigorated her.

"I must admit I, too, crave more knowledge of you. You possess far more charm and intrigue than you give yourself credit for." She smiled at him, despite her glowing cheeks. "After all, you clearly command enough attention by simply passing through."

[boughs-and-laurel]

Though she should have known better from their exchange of letters, experiencing Benjamin in person was another new side of the beast. One expected an army's major to be stuffy, stiff, following rules upon every line, yet he stood before her with this most endearing habit, charming if not a tad awkward, and frankly about the same as she could manage herself. He reminded her of a schoolboy with his first affections in his heart; shy and unsure, but so very pure.

Heat began burning even brighter in her cheeks at his attention. As if she had given him such hope, such reason to continue his service, leading him to finally imagine what life may be like after combat.

If only he could remember his days as a little bumblebee, she would be happy.

She took his offered arm with pleasure, holding to him with delicate fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket, and fell in step beside him as they continued toward the light. She already knew he wished to know her, yet to hear him speak of it with such fondness made something warm deep in her chest. His charm held near fatal, though he was likely oblivious to the fact.

"You flatter me so," she managed to say, her smile easy and shy. "I'm afraid I feel I have yet to earn such fond regard. My words were never false, though I must admit they flow far more easily from ink than they do from one's lips." She nearly ducked her head in shame, but held fast. "Nevertheless, I... do intend to hold to my promises. You give yourself far too little credit, Major."

Momentarily, she paused to lift her skirt with her open hand as they ascended the few steps to the door. Though the of facing those who may know her was intimidating, his presence at her side both soothed and invigorated her.

"I must admit I, too, crave more knowledge of you. You possess far more charm and intrigue than you give yourself credit for." She smiled at him, despite her glowing cheeks. "After all, you clearly command enough attention by simply passing through."

The gentle way he smiled... A timidness that should have been years behind her suddenly crept upon her, with a stutter in her heart and shiver down the spine. He seemed so... genuinely pleased. Though surely the tinge of rose to his skin was better the work of imagination or a trick of the light.

She smiled and shook her head. "No; as you've properly deduced, it is an alias. Christened as such by yourself, actually." Unbidden, her lips quirked the slightest bit more. "You gave me a name."

Benjamin had hardly given her a chance to reply before he was deftly sweeping his cloak from his shoulders and enveloping her in it. Practiced fingers fastened it around her throat, hands as close to her as they'd ever been. It smelled like him. And so it seemed would she. The thought, coupled with the oh so gentle brush of his thumb over her chin, left her warm and prickling with goose skin. They were far from animals, and yet...

No, "belonging" by scent alone, the concept was absurd.

He was avoiding her gaze now, yet it felt far from disrespect. She mulled over his offer briefly and took her lower lip between her teeth, hesitating ever so slightly. What would people say, should she emerge from the darkness with a man no one had ever met? ... Then again, what benefit stood to be gained from whispering together amongst the trees? (And, arguably, the far more suspicious of the pair.) She glanced over him, head to toe; his hunger likely dwarfed her own, if he had come straight from camp.

The man never stopped, did he?

With a soft, gentle smile, she fussed with her skirt, heart straining in her chest. "I... I do as well," she admitted. "Your soul reads heavily, yet very wise. You are not alone in your curiosity, despite our correspondence, so please, do not fret for that. There are many things hiding within a man; I have little doubt something more could be teased from you."

The moment she spoke it, the error of her choice of words was abundantly clear. She blanched, then damning heat quickly took its place, spreading over her cheeks and ears before crawling over her neck.

Ideally, he wouldn't think of it the way she had.

[boughs-and-laurel]

The gentle way he smiled... A timidness that should have been years behind her suddenly crept upon her, with a stutter in her heart and shiver down the spine. He seemed so... genuinely pleased. Though surely the tinge of rose to his skin was better the work of imagination or a trick of the light.

She smiled and shook her head. "No; as you've properly deduced, it is an alias. Christened as such by yourself, actually." Unbidden, her lips quirked the slightest bit more. "You gave me a name."

Benjamin had hardly given her a chance to reply before he was deftly sweeping his cloak from his shoulders and enveloping her in it. Practiced fingers fastened it around her throat, hands as close to her as they'd ever been. It smelled like him. And so it seemed would she. The thought, coupled with the oh so gentle brush of his thumb over her chin, left her warm and prickling with goose skin. They were far from animals, and yet...

No, "belonging" by scent alone, the concept was absurd.

He was avoiding her gaze now, yet it felt far from disrespect. She mulled over his offer briefly and took her lower lip between her teeth, hesitating ever so slightly. What would people say, should she emerge from the darkness with a man no one had ever met? ... Then again, what benefit stood to be gained from whispering together amongst the trees? (And, arguably, the far more suspicious of the pair.) She glanced over him, head to toe; his hunger likely dwarfed her own, if he had come straight from camp.

The man never stopped, did he?

With a soft, gentle smile, she fussed with her skirt, heart straining in her chest. "I... I do as well," she admitted. "Your soul reads heavily, yet very wise. You are not alone in your curiosity, despite our correspondence, so please, do not fret for that. There are many things hiding within a man; I have little doubt something more could be teased from you."

The moment she spoke it, the error of her choice of words was abundantly clear. She blanched, then damning heat quickly took its place, spreading over her cheeks and ears before crawling over her neck.

Ideally, he wouldn't think of it the way she had.

There, the sound of horses hooves, slowing just at the edge of the treeline. Her pulse kicked up even faster as she curled her fingers into fabric, clutching it as though it could save her from her own making, and she hesitated. The sound of tack shifting, feet hitting the ground, a soft murmur.

And then, he called.

Shite.

She had overheard him speak before, and there was little doubt of his identity now. Yes, it's me, of course it is.

She listened intently at first to what he spoke of- a chaperone, gifts... Certainly he knew a meeting like this would never have been approved of by a chaperone, cloaked in darkness and without a proper mutual introduction- as she thought of it, a little thrill rippled down her spine. Perhaps even a bit... invigorating.

Her heart twisted and began to creep up her throat the longer he spoke. He was undeniably sweet, almost unbearably so in his eagerness. The blame settled solely on her for stringing a man out as she had, there was no doubt in that. And now her pulse thundered in her ears, blood rushing through her, wilder with every moment. Still, she owed him what was just.

With a thick swallow and a few strokes to smooth out her skirt, she braced herself before stepping out from her hiding place and toward the faint light.

Oh dear.

He was without uniform, but recognizable all the same, even in shadow. The glow against the curve of his jaw, the dark yet present color of his eyes. What she remembered of his handsome features in daylight matched this image to her memory perfectly.

She approached a few steps, just enough to reveal herself, before pausing to bend her knees in curtsy before she forgot to do so entirely.

"Major," she softly greeted.

[boughs-and-laurel]

There, the sound of horses hooves, slowing just at the edge of the treeline. Her pulse kicked up even faster as she curled her fingers into fabric, clutching it as though it could save her from her own making, and she hesitated. The sound of tack shifting, feet hitting the ground, a soft murmur.

And then, he called.

Shite.

She had overheard him speak before, and there was little doubt of his identity now. Yes, it's me, of course it is.

She listened intently at first to what he spoke of- a chaperone, gifts... Certainly he knew a meeting like this would never have been approved of by a chaperone, cloaked in darkness and without a proper mutual introduction- as she thought of it, a little thrill rippled down her spine. Perhaps even a bit... invigorating.

Her heart twisted and began to creep up her throat the longer he spoke. He was undeniably sweet, almost unbearably so in his eagerness. The blame settled solely on her for stringing a man out as she had, there was no doubt in that. And now her pulse thundered in her ears, blood rushing through her, wilder with every moment. Still, she owed him what was just.

With a thick swallow and a few strokes to smooth out her skirt, she braced herself before stepping out from her hiding place and toward the faint light.

Oh dear.

He was without uniform, but recognizable all the same, even in shadow. The glow against the curve of his jaw, the dark yet present color of his eyes. What she remembered of his handsome features in daylight matched this image to her memory perfectly.

She approached a few steps, just enough to reveal herself, before pausing to bend her knees in curtsy before she forgot to do so entirely.

"Major," she softly greeted.

@honorhearted

Perhaps it was the slightest bit too late to be having second thoughts.

The sun had been swallowed by the horizon about thirty minutes prior, and as darkness had crept in, blanketing the trees in shadow, so too was she in unease.

She remembered him well, yes, all too well if all were being entirely honest; eyes sharp and piercing yet all too weary, the smears of blood and dirt and pain. Blue, regal in the way it had enveloped him. Proud would not have been an appropriate word to describe him, no; resigned seemed more fitting, regardless of the outcome of battle.

And beautiful even more.

Ridiculous, she thought, fussing with her skirt. It had been her damned curiosity, her damned questions, her damned hand that wrote every accursed letter on every page she had chosen to send him. And then, of course, he had to make her bleed, without a single stroke from a weapon. Not an ounce of gunpowder or smoke. No, his longing, his need, his- ... affection -dare she even think it- had not only pierced but effectively skewered her heart, letting it drip lazily into the cavity of her breast.

In a way, she had already surrendered.

Ridiculous, indeed.

She moved a little further in, sinking into the shadows of the trees to avoid the flicker of candlelight from the windows. Well, should she be abducted at this particular time, at least someone would likely hear it occur. Should she scream loudly enough, at least.

She slid around the trunk of one of the thicker trees, gathering her skirt closer to her body. Well, she could only hope one Benjamin Tallmadge was indeed so honorable.

[boughs-and-laurel]

@honorhearted

Perhaps it was the slightest bit too late to be having second thoughts.

The sun had been swallowed by the horizon about thirty minutes prior, and as darkness had crept in, blanketing the trees in shadow, so too was she in unease.

She remembered him well, yes, all too well if all were being entirely honest; eyes sharp and piercing yet all too weary, the smears of blood and dirt and pain. Blue, regal in the way it had enveloped him. Proud would not have been an appropriate word to describe him, no; resigned seemed more fitting, regardless of the outcome of battle.

And beautiful even more.

Ridiculous, she thought, fussing with her skirt. It had been her damned curiosity, her damned questions, her damned hand that wrote every accursed letter on every page she had chosen to send him. And then, of course, he had to make her bleed, without a single stroke from a weapon. Not an ounce of gunpowder or smoke. No, his longing, his need, his- ... affection -dare she even think it- had not only pierced but effectively skewered her heart, letting it drip lazily into the cavity of her breast.

In a way, she had already surrendered.

Ridiculous, indeed.

She moved a little further in, sinking into the shadows of the trees to avoid the flicker of candlelight from the windows. Well, should she be abducted at this particular time, at least someone would likely hear it occur. Should she scream loudly enough, at least.

She slid around the trunk of one of the thicker trees, gathering her skirt closer to her body. Well, she could only hope one Benjamin Tallmadge was indeed so honorable.

[boughs-and-laurel]

i want to be so kind it echoes backwards in time and undoes the things that hurt you. i want to be so kind it radiates from me. i want to be so kind that i make someone else find faith in humanity again. there’s not much i can do, i’m small and weak and i only know so many words. but i know i can be kind. and sometimes, i believe, that changes the world.

[boughs-and-laurel]

Heart Wax Seal // VenusEnvyPaper