No Other Place
9 March 2010
It had been a necessarily long day. After the wedding, and after making sure the newly wed couple were safely to the gates of the city so they could spend the night at a cottage, Harry and Maia went back to work. Marietta was just newly in dock, and Hawke's crew was fairly exhausted after several weeks of stormy weather at sea. It always got very busy at the offices when one of the ships came in, and this time was no different. Accounts had to be settled, provisions inventoried, repair and maintenance orders handled...
Oddly, though, Harry loved it, even though it meant that they didn't get home until very late. He loved it when one of their vessels returned profitable and safe, no hands lost. He loved bounding aboard after she was snug in her berth, and walking stem to stern. It didn't take away that part of him that longed to go to sea, to do some blue water sailing, but it took the edge off of it.
They just got home about an hour ago, and tomorrow will be another long day, but Harry still sat with tea in front of the hearth and an armful of his Maia, looking into the flames. It was such a beautiful day -- a good sign for the young men, and a good sign for them as well, pointing towards the coming spring. "I hope this warm streak continues." A quiet comment, as he relaxed in this little space of time before bed.
The woman was getting sleepy, and before long he might graduate from am armful to a lapful of Maia. Still, she hated to bed down on days when she felt so easy. Maia never wanted such days to end. She tilted her head to one side, resting it on his shoulder, the rest of her rather splayed and stretched out, taking up more space than seemed reasonably possible for such a petite woman. "It will before too long, I think. We've had quite enough of the winter." After a long beat, she smiled. Maia had very pointedly not spoken about the wedding in front of the mad women of the office, but here at home, it was all fair game. "The wedding was really lovely, I am surprised to admit. Tender. To the point. Full of pretty things to look at." She smirked.
Harry grinned without looking over; he could see her expression in his mind's eye as clear as day. "What did you expect? Mauve? Rose?" A pause, the bastardly sort, and he ran his fingers up her arm in lieu of a tickle, teasing, "Taupe?"
A laugh slipped out, quiet thing. "Aye. Mauvery Rosey Taupey nonsense. In frilly, gauzy, dressy...with the girls and the flowers and the songs that are supposed to sound joyous that always instead sound a little too buttoned up to me. Harry," she said, taking a deep breath, as though it were the very most important thing in the world, "it may come as something of a deep shock to you, but I am not actually all that fond of weddings."
Harry let the silence hang for a long moment, and if not for the note of laughter in his voice underlying his next words, he would have been near unreadable, "I'm not sure I can live with this, Maia. This knowledge. This burden."
"I know. I know, Harry." She reached up to pat the hand that had run up her arm. "But if anyone can find a way to endure and proceed, I think I might believe it could be you. Harold Lowe. With very few exceptions, weddings are rubbish." Maia nodded very seriously, and reached over to steal a sip of his tea. Hers was long gone, but she was thirsty and comfy.
"I tend to agree. I believe in them, but Rhy'Din rarely has a good example of a lasting one." Harry handed over the tea smoothly, then settled a little deeper into the cushions, watching the flames. "And, in all honesty, even in my own time, marriages were just as often for convenience as they were for any real amount of affection."
She took a sip gratefully and returned the cup (though it was clearly then full of Maia Cooties). "I was well aware, while on earth, that the moment I got married would likely be the moment I bid my life and any semblance of independence I had adieu. Everything that was mine would have legally become his. I would have been bound to obey and god...sometimes I really cannot bring myself to do such a thing. Riley used to caution me against marrying, unless he was very very wealthy and elderly or infirm. He didn't want to see me legally relegated to a status like lap dog or chambermaid."
"I wouldn't be able to bear the notion myself." Harry made a face, then shook his head. No... no, this woman did not belong with anything less than an equal to her. And anyone who would think to subjugate her was certainly less than an equal.
Rhy'Din had definitely disabused Harry of any lingering Victorian thinking when it came to gender; from Sirin, to Pacey, to Lily... and now, to the strongest woman he knew. Sometimes, he wondered if he even could stand next to her. But she tended to inspire his strengths, and calm whatever insecurities remained at this age.
No. There could be no subjugating Maia. The thought was so foreign that he couldn't even really grasp it. "No, love... no world such as that would deserve you."
"But it's the world that made me," she said, but she was beaming, warmed by his arm and his tea and now his words. "And though it is full of folly, I am grateful to it for my life. Just as I am grateful to this world for my freedom and for, more recently, my Harry." She sighed, a heady full and a breathy sigh that slipped from her with nearly as much expression as anything she could have possibly said. "I am so grateful for my Harry." Maia turned her head to kiss his cheek.
Harry turned before she could get his cheek, brushing instead a kiss across her mouth, and trying his best not to smile himself right back out of it. If his words warmed her, then hers sang inside of him. "Your Harry is so very grateful for you." He sighed out a soft, content sound. "I am certain that the world that made you lost one of the brightest things in it when you came here, but I think I'll be selfish over it." He couldn't help but grin. "Screw 'em. They will certainly never get you back."
Her laugh, again, was quiet, the sort that comes in quiet times in private moments. This was not the laughter that other people saw. This was not the Maia that other people knew. This docile, comfortable creature was ready to crawl into his lap and stay there until they could stay no longer. It was just what she did, turning her back to the hearth so she could, for lack of a less provocative word, straddle the man on their sofa, resting her hands happily at her shoulders so that she could just look at him. "It's settled, then. I am not going back to seventeenth century earth. Alas, I was hoping to return to disease and poor hygiene and complete and utter male domination. I will sacrifice these things for you, Harold Lowe. But only because you said so."
"I know it's a hard sacrifice, Maia d'Thalia." Harry nodded solemnly, sliding his hands up her back and tipping his head back slightly to look up at her, holding their gaze. "I know that it pains you to leave such beautiful, safe, clean conditions for this, but I promise, I'll make it worth your while."
"Ooh. This is starting to get interesting. I'm listening." With a lift of her eyebrows, Maia caught her lower lip in her teeth, but it was not helping suppress the wide sleepy grin on her face. Her hair, still wrapped fairly neatly into that bun since early this morning, did not obscure her vision, and it was a blessing. This gorgeous man was far too appealing a sight to veil.
Harry looked at that lip; God, but he did love that look of hers. Two and a half years, or so, and he still marvelled at how much he got to see of her. Playful, and warm; beautiful and even mellow, she was still intense.
"A warm bed, and a warm Welshman who, after work tomorrow, will gladly bring you home and make love to you all night." Alas, but for tonight. If he thought he could convince his body to it, he would have, but it had been a long day. Started early, ended late. "After sharing a bath, in our quite hygienic bathtub." He felt he had to sweeten the deal.
"Mmm. Welshman. My only weakness." Lies, all lies. (The woman had a well documented weakness for certain sorts of pie, as well.) Maia kissed him on the nose, then on the chin, and paused. "You've just uttered the only words that I think might have made me want to speed on 'til tomorrow. I think it is time for bed." She kissed the man then, unmistakably tenderly, and peeled herself away, offering her hands to pull him from the couch. "Come on. No better way to bring on the morning than to sleep through the night."
Harry took her hands and got up, taking only a moment to handle the hearth before recapturing one hand so that they could walk together. "Particularly in our own bed."
There was simply no other place that he would rather be.
9 March 2010
It had been a necessarily long day. After the wedding, and after making sure the newly wed couple were safely to the gates of the city so they could spend the night at a cottage, Harry and Maia went back to work. Marietta was just newly in dock, and Hawke's crew was fairly exhausted after several weeks of stormy weather at sea. It always got very busy at the offices when one of the ships came in, and this time was no different. Accounts had to be settled, provisions inventoried, repair and maintenance orders handled...
Oddly, though, Harry loved it, even though it meant that they didn't get home until very late. He loved it when one of their vessels returned profitable and safe, no hands lost. He loved bounding aboard after she was snug in her berth, and walking stem to stern. It didn't take away that part of him that longed to go to sea, to do some blue water sailing, but it took the edge off of it.
They just got home about an hour ago, and tomorrow will be another long day, but Harry still sat with tea in front of the hearth and an armful of his Maia, looking into the flames. It was such a beautiful day -- a good sign for the young men, and a good sign for them as well, pointing towards the coming spring. "I hope this warm streak continues." A quiet comment, as he relaxed in this little space of time before bed.
The woman was getting sleepy, and before long he might graduate from am armful to a lapful of Maia. Still, she hated to bed down on days when she felt so easy. Maia never wanted such days to end. She tilted her head to one side, resting it on his shoulder, the rest of her rather splayed and stretched out, taking up more space than seemed reasonably possible for such a petite woman. "It will before too long, I think. We've had quite enough of the winter." After a long beat, she smiled. Maia had very pointedly not spoken about the wedding in front of the mad women of the office, but here at home, it was all fair game. "The wedding was really lovely, I am surprised to admit. Tender. To the point. Full of pretty things to look at." She smirked.
Harry grinned without looking over; he could see her expression in his mind's eye as clear as day. "What did you expect? Mauve? Rose?" A pause, the bastardly sort, and he ran his fingers up her arm in lieu of a tickle, teasing, "Taupe?"
A laugh slipped out, quiet thing. "Aye. Mauvery Rosey Taupey nonsense. In frilly, gauzy, dressy...with the girls and the flowers and the songs that are supposed to sound joyous that always instead sound a little too buttoned up to me. Harry," she said, taking a deep breath, as though it were the very most important thing in the world, "it may come as something of a deep shock to you, but I am not actually all that fond of weddings."
Harry let the silence hang for a long moment, and if not for the note of laughter in his voice underlying his next words, he would have been near unreadable, "I'm not sure I can live with this, Maia. This knowledge. This burden."
"I know. I know, Harry." She reached up to pat the hand that had run up her arm. "But if anyone can find a way to endure and proceed, I think I might believe it could be you. Harold Lowe. With very few exceptions, weddings are rubbish." Maia nodded very seriously, and reached over to steal a sip of his tea. Hers was long gone, but she was thirsty and comfy.
"I tend to agree. I believe in them, but Rhy'Din rarely has a good example of a lasting one." Harry handed over the tea smoothly, then settled a little deeper into the cushions, watching the flames. "And, in all honesty, even in my own time, marriages were just as often for convenience as they were for any real amount of affection."
She took a sip gratefully and returned the cup (though it was clearly then full of Maia Cooties). "I was well aware, while on earth, that the moment I got married would likely be the moment I bid my life and any semblance of independence I had adieu. Everything that was mine would have legally become his. I would have been bound to obey and god...sometimes I really cannot bring myself to do such a thing. Riley used to caution me against marrying, unless he was very very wealthy and elderly or infirm. He didn't want to see me legally relegated to a status like lap dog or chambermaid."
"I wouldn't be able to bear the notion myself." Harry made a face, then shook his head. No... no, this woman did not belong with anything less than an equal to her. And anyone who would think to subjugate her was certainly less than an equal.
Rhy'Din had definitely disabused Harry of any lingering Victorian thinking when it came to gender; from Sirin, to Pacey, to Lily... and now, to the strongest woman he knew. Sometimes, he wondered if he even could stand next to her. But she tended to inspire his strengths, and calm whatever insecurities remained at this age.
No. There could be no subjugating Maia. The thought was so foreign that he couldn't even really grasp it. "No, love... no world such as that would deserve you."
"But it's the world that made me," she said, but she was beaming, warmed by his arm and his tea and now his words. "And though it is full of folly, I am grateful to it for my life. Just as I am grateful to this world for my freedom and for, more recently, my Harry." She sighed, a heady full and a breathy sigh that slipped from her with nearly as much expression as anything she could have possibly said. "I am so grateful for my Harry." Maia turned her head to kiss his cheek.
Harry turned before she could get his cheek, brushing instead a kiss across her mouth, and trying his best not to smile himself right back out of it. If his words warmed her, then hers sang inside of him. "Your Harry is so very grateful for you." He sighed out a soft, content sound. "I am certain that the world that made you lost one of the brightest things in it when you came here, but I think I'll be selfish over it." He couldn't help but grin. "Screw 'em. They will certainly never get you back."
Her laugh, again, was quiet, the sort that comes in quiet times in private moments. This was not the laughter that other people saw. This was not the Maia that other people knew. This docile, comfortable creature was ready to crawl into his lap and stay there until they could stay no longer. It was just what she did, turning her back to the hearth so she could, for lack of a less provocative word, straddle the man on their sofa, resting her hands happily at her shoulders so that she could just look at him. "It's settled, then. I am not going back to seventeenth century earth. Alas, I was hoping to return to disease and poor hygiene and complete and utter male domination. I will sacrifice these things for you, Harold Lowe. But only because you said so."
"I know it's a hard sacrifice, Maia d'Thalia." Harry nodded solemnly, sliding his hands up her back and tipping his head back slightly to look up at her, holding their gaze. "I know that it pains you to leave such beautiful, safe, clean conditions for this, but I promise, I'll make it worth your while."
"Ooh. This is starting to get interesting. I'm listening." With a lift of her eyebrows, Maia caught her lower lip in her teeth, but it was not helping suppress the wide sleepy grin on her face. Her hair, still wrapped fairly neatly into that bun since early this morning, did not obscure her vision, and it was a blessing. This gorgeous man was far too appealing a sight to veil.
Harry looked at that lip; God, but he did love that look of hers. Two and a half years, or so, and he still marvelled at how much he got to see of her. Playful, and warm; beautiful and even mellow, she was still intense.
"A warm bed, and a warm Welshman who, after work tomorrow, will gladly bring you home and make love to you all night." Alas, but for tonight. If he thought he could convince his body to it, he would have, but it had been a long day. Started early, ended late. "After sharing a bath, in our quite hygienic bathtub." He felt he had to sweeten the deal.
"Mmm. Welshman. My only weakness." Lies, all lies. (The woman had a well documented weakness for certain sorts of pie, as well.) Maia kissed him on the nose, then on the chin, and paused. "You've just uttered the only words that I think might have made me want to speed on 'til tomorrow. I think it is time for bed." She kissed the man then, unmistakably tenderly, and peeled herself away, offering her hands to pull him from the couch. "Come on. No better way to bring on the morning than to sleep through the night."
Harry took her hands and got up, taking only a moment to handle the hearth before recapturing one hand so that they could walk together. "Particularly in our own bed."
There was simply no other place that he would rather be.