Maria wasn't really surprised when she saw who it was. Her men were dutiful, of course, or they wouldn't be her men, and she didn't expect standards to slip under Bouchart's rule, but no one was supposed to be here; whoever it was would be someone inclined to go above and beyond. So of course it was Desmond.
She had only a second or two to watch him before he realized she was there, and she went still for that time. Did he look different to her, now that she knew what it was like to have him panting into her neck, naked and against her and inside her?
Not really. And yet they both knew it had happened. But there was no point in acting as if it had. She passed him and went to the next stall, whose occupant nickered at her.
He was stooped over, intent in his brushing, and stood back up so fast his charger stepped away from him, scolding the sergeant with a shrill remark.
"Ma-Maria!" Well then. Shit.
"I could say the same for you," he returned after his pulse had returned to something approaching normal, touching the mare's neck, soothing her where he couldn't be soothed. Not with the object of his....what was it? Affection? Lust? in the other stall. She was awfully chill about the whole thing...maybe in the grand scheme of things he mattered less than he'd previously assumed.
"Couldn't sleep," Desmond finally offered, rubbing his forehead with his wrist. "You?"
"The same." She patted her horse's nose before reaching for a brush of her own. "I haven't been sleeping much at all, lately."
The moment that the words left her mouth, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. He'd assume her restless nights were because of their anything but restful night together when that wasn't the case. Or was it? No, it certainly hadn't helped, but there had already been other things on her mind than impropriety with a sergeant. There was just more on it now.
"I meant that a great deal is changing, and I'm not sure how things will turn out," she added, rushing to fill the silence. "It's been weighing on me."
Desmond weighed what to do, what to say. He chose, in the end, to draw closer to her, resting his arms on the top of the rail dividing the pens from one another. What would he have done even before he climbed into bed with Maria? Listen. They've always been able to have some kind of dialogue, even when his French was still shitty and he'd had yet to take up the sergeant's tunic.
"Well I'm here, you're here," he said, as nonchalant as he could. "Do you want to talk about it?"
It was tempting to turn him down, to continue on normally as best she could, but with Robert gone now, Desmond was the only person she could bear to open up to.
"No and yes," she said, automatically stroking the horse's mane even as her mind took her far from the stall. "Our work didn't end with Saladin's defeat at Arsuf. Now may be a critical time. But I don't know how much I'm going to be included in it."
And wasn't that selfish, even if her original motivation for coming to the Crusades had been exactly that? This was a Holy Crusade, after all. And there was more—they were meant to bring peace and learning to the people, Christian and Muslim both, even if Desmond wasn't fully aware of every nuance of the Templars' true plans.
"Bouchart has different ideas on the proper role for woman, and people have recognized that," she said, and looked up to meet his eyes. "If you'd prefer to serve another steward, I won't be angry. It might be better for you."
It made him angry, the way she was already divorcing herself from all of it. Defeated. Bouchart had been swiftly chosen almost before de Sable's body was cold in the earth, and already he was out to scrub away anything he thought might have led to his former knight brother's downfall. Women didn't rank particularly high in his regard, regardless of how much this woman had done for the Order.
She would have died for them all if Altaïr had been any less kind, and the same men she fought alongside were ready to cast her off like a leper.
"No." Desmond shook his head, vehement. "Bouchart is an ass," he said hotly, clipped, bitter for her.
Feeling impulsive, reckless he reached over to take the edge of her cloak, tugging firm. "I don't want to serve another steward, Maria."
A mixture of emotions washed over her at his response—gratitude, relief, something bittersweet that didn't quite have a name—and in this raw, exposed moment, Maria wasn't foolish enough to think she was able to keep any of them from showing in her expression. But that was fine; she'd trusted Desmond with more, already.
"I don't disagree," she said, and the next wave of feeling that came when he pulled her closer contained things she wasn't certain would be good to examine too closely. "And don't think I'm not glad to hear it. But—"
But what? She could reassure him again, push him away, but her heart wasn't in it and he wasn't stupid. He didn't need to hear the warning again. Bouchart didn't deserve a sergeant of Desmond's caliber, and she...well, regardless of what had happened between them and what her future with the Templars held, Maria didn't want to give him up.
She touched the hand that held her cloak, fingertips resting lightly on his knuckles. "What do you want, then?"
For all that he managed to articulate precisely what he thought about Bouchart, about his feelings on serving Maria, he found himself at a loss to answer her next question.
What did he want, indeed. Masyaf should be next, it was what he set his sights on since he first came to be in this time. Desmond felt the gnaw of that old anxiety. Would the Apple well and truly have the power to bring him home?
...did he even want to go home, after everything that happened?
Maria's hand on his brought with it a rush of feeling, a warm, electric reminder that drew a shiver up his spine. Even in the dim light, even dressed as she was, he still saw her naked beneath him, wearing little else but that smile that was just for him.
Desmond licked his lower lip, weighing his reply. He turned his hand beneath hers, and let his fingers drift against her wrist. "Not to have to think for a while," he admitted, self-deprecating.
That made her smile, which was an odd feeling, and she realized that the last time she'd smiled had been a week ago, also been in his presence. There hadn't been much reason to do so otherwise.
"That's not something I should encourage," she said, but gave no indication she might scold him. Along with his combat skills, Desmond's surprisingly keen mind was what she'd valued most in him, but she was far past the point of viewing him only as a commander should. Truthfully, that had been the case since before he'd come to her quarters and made her forget about everything she'd begun to lose.
Her skin tingled where he touched her, and though Maria knew she made her own decision about what to do next, it didn't feel that way. It seemed more like an inevitability, and not one she objected to.
"But I understand the feeling," she said, and leaned in and over the stable barrier to kiss him softly.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2015-09-04 03:52 am (UTC)She had only a second or two to watch him before he realized she was there, and she went still for that time. Did he look different to her, now that she knew what it was like to have him panting into her neck, naked and against her and inside her?
Not really. And yet they both knew it had happened. But there was no point in acting as if it had. She passed him and went to the next stall, whose occupant nickered at her.
"You're here awfully late," she remarked mildly.
no subject
Date: 2015-09-04 04:02 am (UTC)"Ma-Maria!" Well then. Shit.
"I could say the same for you," he returned after his pulse had returned to something approaching normal, touching the mare's neck, soothing her where he couldn't be soothed. Not with the object of his....what was it? Affection? Lust? in the other stall. She was awfully chill about the whole thing...maybe in the grand scheme of things he mattered less than he'd previously assumed.
"Couldn't sleep," Desmond finally offered, rubbing his forehead with his wrist. "You?"
no subject
Date: 2015-09-04 04:11 am (UTC)The moment that the words left her mouth, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. He'd assume her restless nights were because of their anything but restful night together when that wasn't the case. Or was it? No, it certainly hadn't helped, but there had already been other things on her mind than impropriety with a sergeant. There was just more on it now.
"I meant that a great deal is changing, and I'm not sure how things will turn out," she added, rushing to fill the silence. "It's been weighing on me."
That...didn't actually clarify anything.
no subject
Date: 2015-09-04 06:13 am (UTC)"Well I'm here, you're here," he said, as nonchalant as he could. "Do you want to talk about it?"
no subject
Date: 2015-09-04 01:17 pm (UTC)"No and yes," she said, automatically stroking the horse's mane even as her mind took her far from the stall. "Our work didn't end with Saladin's defeat at Arsuf. Now may be a critical time. But I don't know how much I'm going to be included in it."
And wasn't that selfish, even if her original motivation for coming to the Crusades had been exactly that? This was a Holy Crusade, after all. And there was more—they were meant to bring peace and learning to the people, Christian and Muslim both, even if Desmond wasn't fully aware of every nuance of the Templars' true plans.
"Bouchart has different ideas on the proper role for woman, and people have recognized that," she said, and looked up to meet his eyes. "If you'd prefer to serve another steward, I won't be angry. It might be better for you."
no subject
Date: 2015-09-22 02:59 am (UTC)She would have died for them all if Altaïr had been any less kind, and the same men she fought alongside were ready to cast her off like a leper.
"No." Desmond shook his head, vehement. "Bouchart is an ass," he said hotly, clipped, bitter for her.
Feeling impulsive, reckless he reached over to take the edge of her cloak, tugging firm. "I don't want to serve another steward, Maria."
no subject
Date: 2015-09-22 03:54 am (UTC)"I don't disagree," she said, and the next wave of feeling that came when he pulled her closer contained things she wasn't certain would be good to examine too closely. "And don't think I'm not glad to hear it. But—"
But what? She could reassure him again, push him away, but her heart wasn't in it and he wasn't stupid. He didn't need to hear the warning again. Bouchart didn't deserve a sergeant of Desmond's caliber, and she...well, regardless of what had happened between them and what her future with the Templars held, Maria didn't want to give him up.
She touched the hand that held her cloak, fingertips resting lightly on his knuckles. "What do you want, then?"
no subject
Date: 2015-09-22 07:47 am (UTC)What did he want, indeed. Masyaf should be next, it was what he set his sights on since he first came to be in this time. Desmond felt the gnaw of that old anxiety. Would the Apple well and truly have the power to bring him home?
...did he even want to go home, after everything that happened?
Maria's hand on his brought with it a rush of feeling, a warm, electric reminder that drew a shiver up his spine. Even in the dim light, even dressed as she was, he still saw her naked beneath him, wearing little else but that smile that was just for him.
Desmond licked his lower lip, weighing his reply. He turned his hand beneath hers, and let his fingers drift against her wrist. "Not to have to think for a while," he admitted, self-deprecating.
no subject
Date: 2015-09-22 03:40 pm (UTC)"That's not something I should encourage," she said, but gave no indication she might scold him. Along with his combat skills, Desmond's surprisingly keen mind was what she'd valued most in him, but she was far past the point of viewing him only as a commander should. Truthfully, that had been the case since before he'd come to her quarters and made her forget about everything she'd begun to lose.
Her skin tingled where he touched her, and though Maria knew she made her own decision about what to do next, it didn't feel that way. It seemed more like an inevitability, and not one she objected to.
"But I understand the feeling," she said, and leaned in and over the stable barrier to kiss him softly.