Private - The World's Greatest Lovers | Page 2

Dedicating all her efforts into the observation of what was ahead of her while she waited for her companion's arrival was enough to steal her attention, successfully keeping her from detecting the little prank that her friend had planned for her. Portia didn't reply to the words someone suddenly whispered to her, not immediately at least, she just gave a little jump in the same spot, one anyone would've missed if they weren't paying attention to her movements. Instead, she did the opposite of talking and began to walk away, taking one, two, three steps forward. The rustling of metal and armor alike could be heard a few seconds before she turned around, performing a reversed roundhouse kick that stopped mere inches away from where the tip of the illusionist's nose should've been.

''Oh, it's you.'' Now she wished she hadn't stopped out of consideration for the other person's well-being. Her anger, while somewhat diminished after her outburst at the tavern, was still present. It told her to give him what he deserved, to punish him properly for all the times he'd invaded her personal space or embarrassed her with a random comment, yet she knew better than to give in to the most basic of her instincts, no matter how much she wished to obey. ''You are quite welcome, my love. Perhaps those men and women finally managed to teach you some manners? I won't ask if it's something that bothers you, but believe me when I say I'd love to hear every single bit of it.''

Her words, while greatly exaggerated with the amount of sweetness mixed with sarcasm put into them, were no more than an attempt to enlighten him with what she often felt around him. Perhaps he'll understand now, she secretly hoped. As he fell silent and stared at her through the holes in the mask, she finally answered in a genuine manner with a roll of her eyes and a sigh, lowering her leg from where it was positioned. In these instances she could manage perfectly fine, talking to someone else through the use of passive-aggressiveness was an ability that came to her easy after bickering with Iván a couple of times in the past.

This, she could manage, but she couldn't wrap her finger around the subject of being affectionate with someone as the old man had described. Portia doubted she ever would be able to in the first place.

''Do you have to wear it? I have seen your face before, you know.'' When you tried to kiss me, you troublesome fool. The more she thought about it, the less sense her reasons for punching him on that eventful day made. It was an odd sensation, a reflex spurred into action by her lack of intimacy what had caused her to act in such ways towards the man. Maybe it was because of that, maybe not. She allowed her thoughts to go unsaid this once and continued on her opinions as to why he shouldn't feel the need to wear a mask in her presence, clasping her hands in front of herself as she laid eyes on the rest of her companion's equipment, dressed to see the task completed. ''It doesn't bring the happiest of memories, I'd say...''

''I'm thinking... We make a pattern that they can follow with ease and use it to our advantage once we're leaving.'' With a motion of her hand, she commanded he got closer to her as they began to walk to their destination, keeping her voice down in order to keep any unwelcomed guests from gaining any information on their private conversation. ''We force our way in after we climb the walls and get inside, try to keep any noises and battles to a minimum and we walk out the front door with your masking abilities protecting our faces from being seen. They'll probably expect armored people and not some random civilians to be the intruders.''

The way in which she spoke didn't have a tone of finality added to it, expecting the other to offer insight on what his thoughts were on her plan and what would he change should he want to. Moving on, it was her turn to make the questions now that they enjoyed a moment of true privacy, not an old man in sight to pester the duo. It wasn't much of a personal question, however, it was one of the fancier details she'd forgotten to ask about earlier. She'd die by going down in the middle of a fight, and not because of lack of information. ''What are we stealing, love?''

 

Iván grinned at @Portia Ahrens' reaction to his entrance, so to speak, her foot inches from his nose. She was just as "reactive," as he remembered, which was going to be of great use to him, to this partnership of sorts.

Having gone through two deaths, Iván no longer feared the very idea of passing away for a third time, least of all feeling more pain. His first death was torture enough, though it did bring him enlightenment. His second was just as traumatic, getting devoured by crystal wolves, talking ones, in his futile attempt to reconnect with his so-called god. It also contained a blessing, however, a lesson of patience. These days, he had to constantly make sure his temper, if even such existed, was in check. Otherwise, painful crystal spikes from out of his skin. Appropriate, considering how he dressed himself.

"Maybe later tonight? When we get some alone time, just you and me and a bottle of the most expensive wine that old guy can buy," Iván's grin turned into a full-blown smile from behind his mask. He was no alcoholic, nor was he fueled with greed, but he did appreciate generosity, despite the fact that it was more out of necessity than out of the kindness of someone's heart. Still, it was free, and Iván wasn't that nit-picky. "It's more of a defense, protection, than aesthetics, though if I have to be honest, I've grown quite attached to this mask."

Iván contemplated Portia's ideas. The part about climbing the walls was obvious. There were walls. They needed to climb it. He was glad Portia wasn't as flamboyant as others. Or destructive. She was straight to the point, which was definitely a great asset in a mission that involved stealth. He crossed out the idea of thievery from his head. Yeah, yeah, they were basically stealing something, but it was for a good cause, right? That old man... He really needed their help. Iván was not a bleeding heart, but he could make an exception. Just this once. For that fine wine.

"I'm not sure we can just walk out of the front door, even with my illusion magic. There may be more guards stationed at the front door than anywhere else. Maybe we can just go out the way we're going in, off a more lightly guarded wall? With your punches and my magic, we could take care of two or three guards easy," Iván snapped his fingers right in the middle of Portia's eyes to prove his point, thought that was probably unnecessary. He took out a gadget of sorts from within his coat. It looked like a toy version of the Ant Queen, the first boss monster they fought together, only more mechanical and less intricate in design. "This thingamajig can provided reconnaissance for us. Powered by my magical energy, it can look around the castle and find a less guarded wall. See this top part over here? It's a tinier version of it. Once the bigger version finds the wall, the tinier version can detach itself and come back to us, leading us to that part of the wall we can climb over with less danger."

Iván gave her a wink, which he forgot she wouldn't have seen anyway, the stinky red mask still obscuring his face. He proceeded to feed the gadget some of his magical energy and slowly, carefully, it rose off his hand, flying away into the night, barely noticeable with its size and design. He made a mental note to thank the nerds at Lightning Ironworks for helping him with his contraption. That was when Portia popped the question, "Oh, right, you left the party earlier. The old man passed on a note. Apparently, we're stealing a wedding dress."

Turning to her, with that statement, awkwardly made the masked illusion magic visualize Portia as a bride. She would, could, look the part, a beautiful bride, perhaps one of the most gorgeous he could ever lay his eyes on, but she would've probably just punched her groom and the priest and the whole choir for wasting her time with all the aesthetics. Portia just wasn't that kind of girl. Was she?

 

No, not alone. No intimacy, not a single drop of that horrible alcohol you had before. Portia, no, her mind echoed the words she already knew herself, a constant reminder not to allow her emotions to gain the upper hand as they had during lunchtime. She blinked a few times in quick succession, praying to any of the Gods above that her friend wouldn't notice how nervous this kind of invitations usually made her.

Portia was brought to reality thanks to his comment about the mask, shrugging in disappointment as he refused to let his face show, though she supposed her reasons for doing so were good enough for her to let it pass without much annoyance. "Alright. Just... Know that I have your back unless you decide to try something out again." She hadn't the wit to put into words what exactly she'd been meaning to tell him, but she would have to trust his understanding of her words and reactions this time.

And she wouldn't have to do any of that, as the male quickly began to explain the flaws in her plan and offering some of his thoughts in return, using some of her strategy to lay out the ground for his to enter. Then he pulled his inventions out of his pockets and put it in front of the girl for examination, detailing how exactly did this strange artifact work and how would it help them in achieving their goal. ''It... Well, it certainly looks like that thing,'' she mumbled as she brought a finger up to her friend's gadget, tempted to poke its head but stopped from doing so as Iván put it back where it belonged before she had a chance to.

"Iván?" She called out to him first, her voice a faint whisper above the rustling of wind passing them by. With a gentle hand, one most unknown to him, she stroked the thin line where the mask became the man behind it, allowing her fingers to trace a thin line from his cheek down to his chin, seemingly awaiting the other's approval to take off his mask and get a chance at further inspection. He had already denied her when she politely asked, but if he was truly feeling unwell, then it was their only option. "It's not like you to space out, are you alright? Maybe... Maybe it's best that you sit and rest for a while."

The same hand that came in contact with the warmth of his skin then slid downwards, to his chest, where it remained as she applied a little pressure and pushed him towards a nearby rock, red staining the girl's face even when it couldn't be seen amidst the darkness. At some point she had stopped feeding her anger with unnecessary thoughts about what happened during the day, allowing the concern she felt for her partner to show as she sat him down and waited for him to put his thoughts back in order.

But they were never allowed a moment's respite in the past, nor would they be in the present. It was like a curse that followed them and manually activated itself whenever they were standing few feet apart, a curse that almost took their lives during their first Aristocracy mission, and the one that had supposedly killed him down at the Spire. That she hadn't been a witness to, but it didn't take the credibility of his experience away.

The woman came to her knees as the echoing sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her train of thought, her index finger pressed against both her bottom and upper lips in a silent plea for her friend not to make any sounds. She never knew what he was capable of and she didn't want to find out, not when his concentration was somewhere else. Two guards approached the place where they currently stood, illuminating their way with the help of a single torch held by the one walking behind.

"Kids, it's way past your bedtime now..." The first one spoke, giving away the fact he hadn't been able to see the players correctly, something that worked to their advantage.

"The woods are dangerous and if you are lost, we will offer directions, but we won't stay our hands if you are looking for trouble this late at night," the other guard added to his friend's little introduction, and his tone alone was enough for anyone to tell how his eyes were glimmering with pride in spite of all the darkness.

"Wait for me, darling." Portia offered him a reassuring smile before she pressed her hand against his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze before she set out of their little hiding spot, armored hands held up beside her head. It wasn't a welcoming smile what they received upon laying eyes on her. It was a strange look, torn between excitement and the urge to protect her partner for as long as he needed.

"Miss, if you'll please accompany us," the guard who wasn't holding the light stepped closer to the brawler, whose fist soon connected with his unprotected face, sending him stumbling back and colliding into his partner. He spit a curse unfit of the lady who stood tall in front of the fallen guards and who soon punished him accordingly with a swift blow of her feet against his filthy mouth. The other stared at her for what felt like entire minutes, scrambling to his feet as he shoved his now unconscious partner out of the way and drew his sword with a speed she was unable to match, desperately slashing the air. Though he managed to land a hit on her, he soon found out that his blade had stopped mid-way in the air, held by a gauntlet that kept the sword from getting anywhere near her face.

''Goodnight,'' she mused as her lips came together and formed a thin line, her remaining unused hand lashing out to grab the knight's helmet and slam his head against a nearby wall, letting him fall with barely a trace of concern to be discerned.

"You're free to come out! I think we found our entrance!"

 

"Try what?" Iván was genuinely interested at what @Portia Ahrens meant by that, his inquisitive nature still in tact despite everything that has happened to him, perhaps even bolstered by the deaths and that one strange obsession with a purple god. From behind his mask, he smirked at the idea that Portia had his back. It wasn't like they had any other option, but he was at least glad this member of the Aristocracy won't stab him in the back. Probably. Portia was also one of his oldest friends in the game. That meant something. "It does, doesn't it? It's intentional."

The masked illusionist took a great deal of pride in his skills, his own spells and gadgets that were all mostly based on his experiences with this world. Several of his summons took the forms of the monsters he had faced, vanquished, perhaps to indulge him or because of his own influence. Some of his gadgets were the same, including the thing in his hand, which was based off of his first boss monster, which he encountered during his first mission with the Aristocracy, a mission that Portia was also a part of. What wasn't intentional was him bringing the gadget with him. Perhaps it was fate or destiny that was behind all these coincidences. He didn't have Astral Magic, so he wouldn't know.

"Oh, no, it's okay, I just..." he tried to resist her at first but there was something about her that forced Iván to just let her take control of him. Was it trust? Was it faith? Or was it just familiarity? He wouldn't have the luxury of dwelling on such curiosities, however, at least not right then, not right there, perhaps not even that day.

As Portia dealt with the two guards that interrupted them, Iván's instincts forced him to get back up to his feet. There was concern in his face, in his heart, perhaps the first in a long while, though it felt familiar to him. It was the same feeling he had during that first mission with the Aristocracy, when he saw her, from the corner of his eyes, down on the ground, in the aftermath of the Ant Queen's destruction and demise. His instincts then told him to go to her, despite the pain that he was feeling, to rescue her, to keep her alive, the only face he was familiar with in that scenario. He tried to do just that, save her, but his efforts were with a punch to the face.

It didn't take her long to take care of those guards, despite their numbers advantage, perhaps because over time she had only grown stronger with punching people in the face. Iván wondered how many faces Portia has punched and in what ways. He grimaced from behind his mask as she called out to him, briskly running towards her.

"This will do," he muttered to his partner as he knelt down the side of one of the guards. As quickly as he could, he took off his mask and hood before putting on the guard's armor. He then rose up and turned to her, smiling, officially showing her the entirety of his face. "How do I look? Guard-y? Guard-like? Believable?"

 

Earlier both had recognized how little they knew about the other, how despite the lack of strength in their bond they remained together whenever the situation told them it was the right thing to do. Fate would always find a new, creative way to drag them through hell, and they would accept it with open arms when it happened. Taking these thoughts into consideration, it was no surprising fact how with enough time they came to work together as well as they did.

Then, if she didn't know him, why was she so sure there was something off about him tonight?

Making a mental note to ask him later about the truth hidden behind the illusion he portrayed himself as, she patiently waited for him to come out of his hiding spot, only for her doubts to be confirmed by the manner in which he did. Was he alarmed? Did he have no faith in her abilities? That damned mask, if only she could take a peek underneath she might get all the answers she endlessly sought, and this whole questioning would be over. If only he took his damned mask off for once--

Portia tilted her head to a side as he greeted her with an expression, not even a special one, merely a normal expression any living being could manage. What truly surprised her was the fact she was able to see the smile playing on his lips, the confidence in the green of his eyes and how every detail matched what she remembered his face to be. He looked the part surprisingly well, she had to admit. What was he doing here, out in the field and about to steal something with her as his partner? If he desired a chance at a cleaner life in somewhere quiet and peaceful inside Terrasphere, he could easily have it.

''A knight in the flesh! Are there any princesses in need of protection, my lord?'' Alone, in the dark, and with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins with a clarity all too familiar, she could joke around with him. Light words trickled from her mouth as if they'd been practiced beforehand, making the woman offer the unmasked illusionist a curtsy followed by a small burst of melodic laughter. ''Do forgive this fool for her ignorance!''

She turned on her heel and went to attend to one of the fallen guards, dragging the man to the spot where the two friends had been having a conversation in before their abrupt intromission and letting her companion take care of the other while she busied herself with hiding one behind the bushes. Coming back to where the other player was still standing, she swapped out of her gauntlets and back into the gloves she used for her noblewoman's disguise, pressing a finger against the male's nose as she passed him by.

An audible huff of breath came from the youth herself as she shifted to the stone wall in front of the players. Portia placed a hand on the stone and in a hushed whisper told her friend to stand in watch for any possible reinforcements while she occupied herself marking a path in the wall for him to follow. Without any further hesitation on her end, she began climbing, allowing her friend to watch over her as she worked her way towards a window.

 

There was nothing else Iván could do but grin when @Portia Ahrens indulged him. Truth be told, he had expected her to smack him in the head for playing dress-up at the most inopportune moment. Sure, Portia had single-handedly taken care of the two guards that foolishly interrupted them earlier, but who knew how many could come across them again? Did Iván even care? At that exact moment, he only really cared about one thing: Portia's laughter.

It was both beautiful and to him quite strange. He couldn't remember if she had ever laughed in his presence before. Most of the times they were together, the parts he remembered at least, they have been either too serious or too gloomy. Granted that most of those times had been during missions, his first one for the Aristocracy and that expedition into that hellhole that killed him but also bestowed upon him such enlightenment that he felt his death was well worth it.

Iván's grin stayed on his face even as Portia went on to deal with the other unconscious guard. He simply watched her while he continued to fix the armor upon himself. He had enough time after simply propping up the guard whose armor he was now wearing against the nearby wall, corner, making him appear as though he was simply asleep. Naked but asleep.Ah, that could've been a hilarious sight, one of his fellow guards finding him that way, getting confused, wondering if he was simply drunk.

Of course... Iván took out the bottle of ant juice he carried with him, a souvenir from that first Aristocracy mission that he had, Portia also having been a part of it, and poured some of it all over the naked guard. That stench should keep anyone away. Or simply dismiss him for a pathetic drunkard.

He had just stowed that bottle away when Portia came back, poking his nose. That was...surprising. Iván chuckled, shaking his head, liking this version of Portia a lot. She had always been so cold towards him. He didn't know she could be this...surprising.

He watched as she climbed that wall, towards that window. If she had waited, perhaps Iván could've told her a secret. Maybe he should've told her before she made the effort to climb. Then again, he liked watching her climb that wall and honestly? Portia didn't look like she minded climbing that wall. It was probably just an effortless exercise for her.

Iván shrugged, still smiling like a fool, taking a mental note of Portia's physical prowess. He then quickly summoned a magical familiar that took the form of the Ant Queen. In one fluid motion, the familiar went behind Iván and held onto him, carrying him upwards as it flew, towards where Portia was.

"Ah, looks like I found a princess in need of a knight's protection," Iván floated inches from Portia, courtesy of his summoned magical familiar. He extended both arms towards her as a gesture of assistance. "Or maybe just a faster way to get to the right window?"

 

''Princess? I don't see any around here,'' she spoke still in a hushed tone, each word was spoken with a brief pause before the next one until she finally realized whom he was talking about, ''Oh.'' At first, she didn't mind her partner's voice, given they were bound to talk as much as they could since they only had each other to make them company. The glimpse she got of familiar silver hair at the periphery of her vision told her all she needed to know as she soon identified Iván standing a couple inches away from her current location, a familiar aiding him on his personal efforts to climb.

When her focus shifted, so did her balance. One of her hands moved instinctively by itself to hold on to the next stone she could find while she continued to look at the male, a frown on full display, moving the weight of her body long before she had the reassurance she had found something to grab onto, which she didn't. A panicked gasp left her as she slipped momentarily, rescued only by her remaining hand which still held onto a ledge, now furiously refusing to let go. In this scenario, where her life was essential to see her mission completed, she was forced to take on the illusionist's offer, even when she was not the biggest fan of the whole plan was to jump off the wall and into his arms.

For reasons best left unknown, she still did it. Gathering every ounce of strength left in her body, she pressed the sole of her feet against the wall and bent her knees to gain an advantage, chancing a glance at the abyss underneath her every time she had the chance to until she finally took a leap of faith, taking his offer to the full extent. Portia closed her eyes as her body was pulled from the cold stone, expecting the worst to happen, but when she found his arms instead of the darkness she was promised if she failed her jump, it took few seconds after for her to start desperately pulling at his clothing as she struggled to regain her footing atop the Ant Queen's back.

''Please don't let me go, don't let me go,'' she begged of him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace, the distance between the two friends diminishing as each syllable of her plea was repeated over and over again. Silence met them as she steadied herself into his arms, her heart's wild pounding still echoing in her ears as it threatened to burst after what she did. She dared not to move, frozen to her spot and left wondering if in this proximity he could feel the fast rate of her heartbeat. Portia didn't have the time to think about it, she merely desired to stay alive and continue their mission.

''Iván, please.'' Every time she opened her eyes she was met with the vision of what could've been her doom, resulting in the visible shivering of her body along with the increase of the force used when she held onto him, praying he wouldn't take this as a perfect opportunity to see his vengeance against her fulfilled. Somehow, Portia knew he wouldn't, and the instant she accepted this fact, the tightness in her chest eased and she finally felt herself regaining her cool demeanor from before.

As they progressed upwards she slowly relaxed in the safety of that comfortable warmth they now shared. Unmoving, without exchanging anything but relieved sighs and calming, gentle breaths, the two continued their ascension to the window currently set as their destination. Small, fragmented parts of her consciousness prayed for this moment never to meet its end, basking in the possibility this might be the first time in a long while she felt truly safe, at peace.

Upon reaching the window that was, much to her surprise and possibly her partner's as well, left opened, she hurried off of the familiar's back and jumped straight to the window frame in search of much-needed stability. Finally standing inside the room it led to and checking for any unwanted set of eyes, she then turned to her companion and stretched one of her hands out, willing to help him if she needed.

Despite this kind gesture, she cast her eyes downward, unable to meet his gaze.

 

That…was not how Iván saw things happening in his head. He imagined @Portia Ahrens shyly accepting his offer, his service, and then him carefully reining in his ant queen next to her so his partner could carefully ride behind him. He never imagined her losing her balance, almost falling to her doom, and throwing herself at him and the ant queen. Antonia wasn’t going to be pleased with what had happened. Iván was going to get an earful from his familiar later, once this was all said and done, if only his familiar could actually speak.

Iván’s eyes widened when Portia jumped towards them. Everything seemed to move slowly, including himself, despite the fact that everything was actually happening so fast. In his head, though, things were slow, too slow, so slow he was able to look Portia all over, though he wasn’t able to react much faster of course.

As Portia scrambled to find stability on top of Antonia, her hands were all over Iván. Unfortunately, not in a good way. Iván found parts of his clothing get pulled, his face once or twice caught in the desperate flurry. In turn, and not at all intentional, Iván found himself, his hands, all over Portia in a desperate attempt to make sure none of her would escape his grasp, the safety he had offered. Thankfully, his managed to clasp together, allowing him to boost Portia up from behind, literally her behind.

In the end, Iván was able to help Portia adjust to their mount, her in front of him, his arms cradling her, their bodies facing each other. If Antonia could, she would have probably rolled her many eyes. The familiar didn’t ask to get summoned to witness this, whatever this was. The familiar was content with being summoned to do a task and then disappear back to where it came from. It was routine. It safe. It was normal.

“You okay?” Iván flashed Portia a grin as he held her, his hands around her waist. Despite his attempts to curb it, the formerly masked illusionist couldn’t stop himself, his body, from heaving a sigh of relief. He was genuinely glad Portia was still in one piece, still warm to his touch. “I’m never going to let you go, okay? Never.”

Through their journey upwards, preceded by Antonia letting out a guttural noise to let them know she was going to do her job now, the thing she was summoned for, Iván made sure to hold Portia as tightly as he could, as if she was his treasure and nothing could come between him and her. “That’s the northeast window the old man wrote on the note. He said it’s always open for some reason.”

Despite his hesitation, Portia seemed determined to get in through the window first. That might have been the best idea considering she wasn’t encumbered with a summoned magical familiar. Plus, she would be better suited punching threats inside that room. If there were any. Iván smiled as she extended her hand towards him, though he was confused by how she was averting her gaze of him. Iván didn’t hesitate in taking her hand, going through the window in one swift motion as the summoned magical familiar disappeared behind him.

“Are you okay?” Iván put both hands on either side of Portia’s cheeks, the way his own mother used to do when he wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to alarm her. He carefully turned her face towards him, so he could look her in the eyes, searching for confirmation of her well-being, truly concerned. “Did you break anything?”

 

At one point during their ride to the window the old man had pointed out for the pair of adventurers, she could've sworn she felt a pair of familiar hands touching an inappropriate place on her body, her response to such an outrageous move being that of an ear pull. ''Thank you, Iván,'' she said in response to the words he spoke about never leaving her side, her voice but a caress of wind against his ear. Many times did she part her lips, words readied at the tip of her tongue but silence was the only thing that followed. Her gestures remained minimal, hesitant, as if she wasn't ready to face the weight of the situation and all it entailed.

After the two entered the room, Iván soon put a halt to her actions before she could perform any more of them, catching her in a state of vulnerability as he sought to make contact with her skin again. He gave voice to his doubts, his concern, and she gladly listened to every word of it and even allowed him to put his hands on her face, unable to keep the warmth of a soft blush from spreading across her otherwise pale features. Portia then took a step closer and put an end to the distance between their faces, giggling at the unbelievable turn her own actions had taken as she squeezed her eyes shut. There was something wrong with her.

Her forehead remained pressed against her friend's for the longest time, and somehow, she couldn't recognize the passing of time during that brief instant in which her flesh met his. In the same fashion as he, her hands moved to place themselves on his recently exposed face, both of her thumbs tracing small circles underneath his eyes, each tiny caress she gave meant to offer reassurance that she was okay, that he was worrying much more than she needed to. ''Nothing important, I'm feeling... Somewhat dizzy? I might need to rest after we are done here. Bear with me for a while longer, yes?''

Portia swallowed hard and felt her arms return to each side of her body, her eyes opening ever so slowly. Even when nothing of importance had happened, she felt something in the air between them shift with all that transpired ever since her jump straight into his arms. No, maybe before they started climbing to the desolate hall. It was a change she welcomed since they never got the chance to properly interact at their own pace during a mission. ''And you, darling? I trust everything is okay, you would be crying like a baby if that wasn't the case,'' she teased and pulled her face away, retreating a few steps until she was allowed some space.

But he wouldn't get to be the only one deserving her attention, for a much more rewarding subject awaited to be noticed at the opposite end of the room, behind her partner in crime's unsuspecting position. Walking past him looking like she'd just hit the jackpot and won the entire village's worth in gold, which wouldn't have been much anyway. Her fingers brushed the white fabric with a delicacy unknown to anyone but her and maybe Iván, clenching her palm to open the game's menu and materialize an empty bag in which to keep the dress and carry it comfortably, lest it get damaged in the way.

''Why are we stealing it? Was it his wife's?'' The questions came out of nowhere. Unpracticed, pulled out from nowhere as her fingertips met the patterns so beautifully made that they allowed her to imagine what it would be like if she ever got married. Lucille would surely go for something simple, capable enough of stealing her beloved one's breath but subtle at the same time. Hers wasn't a life of fanciness and fine details. ''Better yet... Why was it taken away from him?''

 

Iván was caught surprised at witnessing @Portia Ahrens giggle. The words “Portia” and “giggling” had never crossed his mind, especially not together. This was a first for him, though, smiling, he secretly hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see and hear her giggle. She looked quite the ray of sunshine at the moment, something, rather someone, that he had never expected her to become. Yet he welcomed this version of her, this side of Portia, finding her a much-needed respite from all the darkness he had encountered so far.

“Of course, darling,” Iván found himself still smiling, perhaps even wider, as Portia started teasing him. Darling seemed like such an appropriate term for her, for him, for each other. Why? He didn’t really know. It just felt that way. “We can rest together in that room the old man’s paying for. Just the two of us. No other stressful interruptions.”

Iván watched as Portia walked past him, make her way towards something, something that was actually their target, the object of their makeshift heist. It struck him odd that this room didn’t have that much protection, if any at all, that its window was left open while the others were tight shut, that the wedding dress, the gown, was just left there for anyone to take.

“I’m not sure,” Iván continued staring at Portia, unmoving. “The old man never told me. Maybe we can ask him when we give him the dress?” He finally moved towards the open window, gesturing for her to escape with him. There was no longer any point in staying there. They had the prize. They just needed to deliver it to their patron. “He says we should meet him back at the church once we’re done. You ready?”

Iván offered her his hand but nothing else. There was no summoned magic familiar waiting for them this time. There was, however, his aeromancy, which was easier used going down than going up, at least in comparison to the ant queen he could summon. He could simply use his wind spells to slowly get them down, him holding her, carrying her, whereas with the ant queen, Antonia was both summoning magic and aeromancy, two masteries in one, a huge drain of his magical energy.

“If you’re ready, we can leave and meet up with the old man,” he flashed her a soft smile, friendly, comfortable. “Just put your arms around my neck and I’ll take care of the rest.”

 

When her partner's words came out of his mouth, an invitation in disguise to something she supposed was another one of his many attempts to force a reaction out of her, she inhaled deeply. Snapping out of the fuzzy sensation from their shared moment by his words, as if woken up from one of the sweetest dreams she ever had, the woman pointed a warning finger at him, allowing the threat to talk for itself rather than to use her own words. She knew herself when she was embarrassed, she knew what kind of reactions he sought after, and Portia didn't trust herself enough not to indulge the man. There were no bandits in sight to throw him at either, and gold was a resource she couldn't afford to lose.

''Maybe we shouldn't pry. It's his business and we are just some adventurers he picked in a hurry because no one else was around to help him.'' There was a tinge of disappointment mixed with her statement, no matter how true her words were. Her hands came to touch the gown again, taking it from the mannequin which held the dress and folding it as neatly as she could so it would fit in her bag. Holding it in the air for the silver-haired man's appreciation, she spoke again, ''I will go ahead and say it's quite romantic of him to recover it in this fashion. Take some notes, why don't you?'' A pause followed suit.

''This isn't right, Iván.''

Whether she meant the whole strange affair with the old man's request or the situation between Iván and her, none could tell. For better or for worse, she barely knew where they stood after all that happened between them. She knew how she punched him during their first mission and how he later revealed he'd been trying to save her life. She knew how Iván had protected her somewhat down at the Spire by going through the hole that ultimately allowed the remaining players to get out of there with their lives. She knew she never thanked him enough for all he gave, for standing by her side time and time again. But of this particular situation she knew nothing about, and it intrigued her more than it terrified her.

Her steps then moved her to the closed door standing at the far end of the room, her brow furrowed at the uncertainty felt deep within both her chest and mind. Portia pushed a hand against her stomach as she walked, believing the source of her inner conflicts to be an empty stomach and what could possibly be the starting point of a fever. Having some space to herself, some space to breathe would put her back on the mood to be herself.

Without further commentary, she reached for the handle and slowly revealed... Nothing! A seemingly empty hallway no one had anything to worry about, something she'd rather forget about as she stepped away from the door and back to the naked mannequin. The sounds the woman heard coming from the hallway hit her in quick succession, and it was a matter of seconds until a patrol doing their rounds around the building noticed the altered state of the room's entrance, calling others to their aid while the brawler slammed the door shut in their faces and looked for anything within reach to seal it with.

''Let's go, let's freaking go!'' Desperation took over her voice, bolting to meet her partner where he stood after being discovered by that foolish mistake. The queen didn't grab her loyal knight in the same fashion she did last time, with a tight embrace and small words that helped to set their panicking hearts at ease; this time opting for closing her arms around the male's instead of repeating the same course of action that she did during their climb would have to do the trick. Not that it would've been useful when there were more pressing matters to tend to. Their escape being one of them, to set an example.

The shouts of the men behind the wooden door that came down soon after, the clamoring of heavy-armored footsteps coming closer and threats to kill them if they didn't stop where they now stood made up the entirety of what the pair could hear, not that she heeded to any of what the burly men asked of them. Much to her own disliking, she moved Iván along with her to the window, pulling him closer as she jumped down into the abyss she was so afraid of earlier.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

 

“What’s not right?” Iván wasn’t sure what @Portia Ahrens meant by that, though slowly, carefully, he found his mind deriving theory after theory based on a mere inkling about the situation, their situation. She had asked him, rather suggested for him, to take notes. On what? On romance, it seemed. Did she mean romance involving the two of them? Did she think it wasn’t right?

He found himself swallowing air, a tinge of disappointment having found its way on his face. Heaving a sigh, he managed to maintain his composure, to slowly, carefully, keep that disappointment at bay. Why was he disappointed, anyway? He didn’t even see her that way. Portia was just a friend, a familiar face, a partner-in-crime. He had plenty of those…didn’t he?

Iván watched her, not as a physical body moving in that room, but as everything she meant to him. She was a friend, a familiar face, a partner-in-crime. He has been doing a lot of things, busying himself with a variety of endeavors, accomplishing a myriad of tasks, since they last met, since she last punched him. He had met a lot of different people, some friends, some mere acquaintances, definitely a lot of allies, so why was Portia any different to him? Was it because she was present in a lot of his firsts in this game, in this world?

“What?” His musings were interrupted by Portia screaming at her. Everything happened so fast. In mere seconds, she was all over him, grabbing him, pulling him, with the cause of her desperation quickly announcing its presence in form of footsteps and angry yelling. Guards? How? He said this place would be empty!

Gritting his teeth, Iván quickly mustered a smile, taking on a persona he’s taken an interest in thanks to mainstream entertainment media, “Don’t worry, babe. I got you.” He was never a fan of the dashing hero stereotype but his adrenaline getting worked up was enough reason to try it out. In one fluid motion, he turned Portia around and over, ending up with her on his arms the way lovers carry their sweethearts, mothers carry their babies, with a little help from a few wind spells here and there to augment his physical strength. Or lack thereof.

Before they could become mere splats on the ground, Iván softened his landing with the same wind spells, using them to further get out of there real fast, jumping higher, running faster, unencumbered by such trivialities as gravity and drag and yelling guards. In a matter of minutes, Portia x Iván were no longer anywhere near that castle, their heist’s target location, but instead somewhere else outside of town where a lone makeshift tent stood still…and empty.

“Here,” Iván deadpanned, still carrying Portia in his arms. He slowly, carefully, stopped running, mentally thanking his decision to work on his knowledge of aeromancy, and looked around them. Where was the old man? “He said he’d be here.”

He turned to Portia, straight in her eyes, finding his heart still racing. Was it because of all that running? He was using his wind spells to aid him, though. Maybe it was something else. Someone else. Iván swallowed air, suddenly feeling himself a little thirsty.

 

There was a beat of silence and then she laughed, shifting in his arms to see the men who left them with no other choice, a smile bright upon her otherwise stoic facade. Naught seemed to have changed over the period the duo were separated on tasks of their own, albeit both of them certainly had. She struggled to think how the person she knew as the sacrificial mage down at the Spire could become someone as reliable and confident as the man now holding tightly onto her small frame, carrying her as though she was nothing but air.

When realization dawned on her that her partner was pulling some new trick from his hoodie, her laughter only intensified.

''Aeromancy! Gods, aeromancy of all things!'' Her smile widened into a grin while her companion ran with no clear direction in mind, his sole objective to get them as far as he could from the guards who would undoubtedly try to track them down. However, once started in her early celebrations, she couldn't stop herself from temporarily acting like a child, raising her arms high above her head in a cheerful gesture even if it meant the illusionist's job at carrying her would become harder to perform.

Already the air between the two felt easier as they left all pretenses behind and introduced themselves to one another as they were, no mission of critical importance nor massive monsters to hold their personalities down. When his footsteps came to a halt, her fingertips found their way to the tip of the man's nose for the second time in the same night, applying a little force to push his face away with half a mind not to allow the strange sensation of the moment catch up with them again. No more distractions, Portia had to remind herself. Yet the adrenaline coursing through her veins allowed her to laugh for a little while longer

''Told you this wasn't right, Iván.'' The concern she heard in his voice was palpable enough that she felt some of it sink into her own heart, the cheerful persona she displayed during their successful escape brought to a stopping point. We are walking straight into a trap, she thought with an inward sigh, just where they want us to be. The mercenary didn't alert him of her thoughts as she knew they probably thought the same. It was impossible not to when there were so many clues laid out for them to think they were being pulled in a certain direction, like how the castle was supposed to be empty when it was clearly not, and their old man nowhere in sight. ''But now you rest, that was...''

''I felt so alive!''

No sooner had Portia finished declaring her thoughts on his display of power, her eyes finally met his gaze. Iván kept the same look she had first witnessed when he took his mask off, but beyond that, his expression was difficult to decipher, even for someone who claimed she was good at knowing people. For lack of knowing what else to do or what he expected of her, she opted for doing the most reasonable of all her choices and leave the comfort his arms offered, placing a hand on his shoulder to help herself to get back to her feet. ''Ah, sorry. Probably should've done that before.''

 

"Hmm," Iván quickly found his mind drowning in theories as to why the old man wasn't where he should have been. It could've all been a trap, though to be fair, there was nothing the old man could gain for trapping them. Was he a friend of that evil henchman sheriff dude? Why would that evil henchman sheriff dude even go so far as to try and Iván back in his cell when @Portia Ahrens, her disguise anyway, had already given that evil henchman sheriff dude a reason not to. Maybe there was something else they were missing. "You're right. This isn't right. This doesn't feel right."

As Portia opted to get off of his embrace, Iván could do nothing else but make no resistance against her wishes. He was enjoying carrying her for some reason, that joy in her face, that delight, that exuberance, was a welcomed respite from everything else he had endured, everything else they had encountered together. From their mission with the Aristocracy to their expedition down in the Spire, it had seemed that every time they were together, something bad always happened. This time, though, Iván felt like only good things could happen between them, while he was with her.

"Do what?" He deadpanned, genuinely unsure what she meant by that. He enjoyed her company. At least she wasn't punching him now. She seemed more fun, a bit more exciting. Iván could see himself staying by her side, having adventures with her, for as long as he could. Portia, to Iván, was the very personification of familiar. She was his oldest friend. She was his most comfortable friend. He could do no better than stick by her. He held her by her arms, looking straight into her eyes, concern obvious on his face, "You okay? You need that rest now? I can get you back to the tavern. Then I can come back here and look for the old man."

He waited for her response but got something, something he was not expecting, something he did not appreciate: A lot of guards appearing from out of nowhere, swords and spears and shields at the ready, and in the middle of them, the same evil henchman sheriff dude that was sneering straight at Iván's face. "That won't be necessary, cow dung. You both can take plenty of rest...but not at the tavern. I've got just the place for two lovebirds, the world's greatest lovers!"

Iván narrowed his eyes at the evil henchman sheriff dude, taking a step between the rest of them and Portia, shielding her body with his own, "Ah, thanks for the offer, Mister Mustache Mountain, sir, but I'm afraid my lover and I have places to be, wonders to see, and evil henchman sheriff dudes to flee...from. That last part didn't quite work, but I tried."

The grin on Iván's face only served to infuriate Mister Mustache Mountain, sir, with the evil henchman sheriff dude mocking it before revealing his real feelings through a pretty good scowl, "You misunderstand, cow dung. That...was most certainly not an offer."

The tension in the air was palpable. The guards tightened their grips on their respective weapons. The evil henchman sheriff dude narrowed his eyes to their limit, grinning evilly like the evil henchman sheriff dude that he was, savoring the peril that the world's greatest lovers were in. Portia x Iván were outnumbered, 2 to 20. It was not the type of odds one could simply brush off, walk away from, plow through. The pair needed to come up with a pretty smart strategy to overcome this type of danger, obstacle, if they even could.

"So," Iván heaved a deep sigh, unsure of what to make of the situation. He could take out half of the guards but he was concerned about Portia's well-being. One false move, and she could find herself in danger, that danger being enough of a distraction to get himself killed. Maybe they need to think out of the box. Way out of the box. He continued whispering to Portia, "The dashing knight in shining armor gets a kiss before shit hits the fan, right?"

"Git 'em."

 

''You, I meant you need to rest. Or did you grow some muscle while I wasn't looking?'' It was too dark to properly appreciate any form of muscle he might've hidden under his clothes, any light source out of their reach and magic not too much of an option when they were trying to stay out of sight. Darkness did not stop her fingers from rubbing the exposed skin of his arms, holding him in place as she inspected if his abilities with aeromancy were truly what took them out of the castle in one piece. His concern for her was extremely appreciated, but unnecessary. That fever, or whatever made her dizzy, she could work her way through.

Naught could be done as her friend defied those who ambushed them, taking his words as the perfect distraction she needed to turn and observe what they were up against. Shifting in her heels to press her back against his, many warriors swarmed her vision, earning a displeased grunt from the adventurer whose time was running thin. Faced with inevitable danger, Portia came to the conclusion of doing what the pair did best: storm their way out. ''Pity. This Queen values a knight who is brave enough to steal a kiss from his beloved if he so wants it, but she values even more someone who can dance.''

Being the melee fighter out of the two, she rushed out to close the gap between her and one guard threatening their lives, learning soon enough that these men were much stronger than they allowed themselves to appear as. There was a deep-rooted amusement in the way she briefly toyed with those she judged would go down easily, dancing her way out of danger and back into the offensive with relative ease, something that became natural to her after months of repeating this process, especially after realizing these men were not instructed to kill, but to harm.

A swordsman stepped into the fray soon after deciding waiting around for his turn wasn't quite worth it and made quick work to attack the female while she was busy bringing one of his soldiers down. Out of the corner of her vision she became aware of his movements, of how the man drew his blade and brought it above his head once he stepped into her vicinity, bringing it down only for her to stop it in the air with the bracers of her gauntlets, fighting to hold it in place and avoid being hit.

Her guard was instead pushed through, a cut lancing across her chest and down to her abdomen. Thankfully, the woman went nowhere without her armor, and a mission where the risk was expected at every turn, every damn corner, would be no different a situation than others. The force of the blow sent her stumbling back a few steps, gasping for air as she failed to protect herself from the slash. Thanks to her clothing, it wouldn't wound her too deeply, but it wasn't going to be a well-appreciated injury the next morning.

Their enemies wasted no time and sought to punish this mistake of the girl, rushing at her in bigger numbers to take advantage of the poor defense she could no longer allow herself to hold. One of the burly men she brought down earlier took the opportunity and stepped forward to where the struggling woman thrashed her arms about and resisted her soon-to-be captors, his fist colliding with her stomach and knocking the air out of her lungs. She offered some resistance before she was stripped of her weapons, her arms caught and twisted behind her in few swift motions.

''Get off me!'' She yelled through gritted teeth, feeling the burning of rope around her wrists and the panic beginning to settle in. Portia was never quick to give in and allow things to simply happen - she still had some fight left in her. Pain stung through her body's midsection, the wounded flesh underneath her armor reminding her of her defeat over and over until it became the only thing she could wrap her mind around. Doing her best to ignore it, she tried to stumble back to her feet, only in time to notice a strange figure materializing in front of her, a finger pressed to his lips and his lips curved into a taunting smile.

He prowled closer to her partner's position, materializing and vanishing in the blink of an eye every now and then, testing the limits of her growing concern. Something in her eyes changed as realization dawned on them that her partner was not the only one skilled in the arts of visual trickery. ''Ivá-!'' His name at the tip of her tongue, left incomplete on her lips as the person holding her down noticed her little attempt to alert the illusionist, turning to face the weakened warrior and striking her across one cheek with the back of his hand. Her head snapped to a side, spitting blood at the feet of the man who defied her in every possible way, anger flaring in her gaze just in time to be hit again in the exact same way.

''It is time you learn your place, doll.''