THE MIKAELSON’S early rise &&. ride toward xristo’s home the temple saw him take celeste up on her unspoken invitation of c i r c u m s t a n c e. knowing his fellow senator’s wife would be on her way toward the house of prayer he set out to cross paths in order to walk her to her destination. her figure in the distance beneath the early rising sun rose quite the smile. his horse grew closer till he met her and dismounted. ❝ good morning, celeste. ❞
“ Celeste. A pleasure, as ever. Tell me, how goes your pursuit of fruit for your womb ?” His eyes narrowed and he forced a smile to his mouth. “ Tell me-- is the man who so desires you to bear him an heir within? There is a matter I wish to discuss with him.”
He had regretted his sudden exit the moment he was out her door. Elijah had done as Xristo had. It had been foolish. It had been in order maintain the ability to respect her, but the noble intention had been nothing more than inability to look past her beauty. Did he have no control? He chided himself until his horse made swift ground toward Xristo's residence a day later.
--
She slept the night alone, waking as the sun began to rise, as she nearly always did. Completing her morning ablutions, she donned the simplest of robes and left her hair unadorned. And still seeing no sign of her husband, she left word with a servant that she would go to temple as usual, and began to make her way. On foot, and alone, as she preferred.
--
The figure in the distance was shrouded by rays of the golden sun. As he neared, his heart began to beat faster. Her beauty was accentuated in the light, and felt for a moment like he could hardly breathe. His stallion slowed to a stop before her. "Good morning...just the person I traveled out to see."
--
Her traitorous heart beat faster at the sight of him and she cursed it for its foolishness. She forced an easy smile to her face. She would remember the lesson the night before had taught her. "Good morning, senator. Did you forget something in your haste?" she asked, her voice perfectly pleasant, and yet the barb lay there in her words.
--
The man climbed down from his horse, narrowly escaping a rather nasty burn from the obvious sharpness of her question. He deserved as much. "Yes," he replied, smiling right back. "My good manners, among other things I dare say in front of a lady." His lips pursed, then. Seriousness overtook his features. "I was rather foolish. Regret fills me."
--
She watched him climb down, her smile fading, replaced by a more guarded expression as he spoke. "Do not let it weigh on you," she said, continuing her way towards the temple. He could walk with her or be left behind. "Your intended apology is accepted." She could not help but cast a look in his direction, but she looked away as quickly, her head stubbornly high. She would not let a man under her skin. She could not afford it. "As you pointed out, you are not the first man to flee my company."
--
And what he'd first thought of as heat came tumbling over him in an icy wave. He was not deterred, however. He kept haste behind her till he walked by her side. "Which made my leave worse in fact," he replied. "I'd like the opportunity to make it up to you. Your company was most lovely."
--
She slowed slightly, more so that the walk might take more time than because she thought he would not keep up. She considered his words. And way they made her heart ache with something unfamiliar. She recalled too well the way he'd looked at her. In a way no man had before. "I enjoyed yours as well," she finally admitted, looking at him. "And was sad to see you go so quickly." The smile she gave him now was cautious. "How will you make it up to me then?"
--
Her words rose a smile once more. "Believe me I regretted taking my leave the moment I took it. If you'll have me I'd very much like to continue where we left off, and have many more riveting conversations." He wanted to be around her. In whatever capacity he could. She had gotten beneath his skin.
--
"I would have you," she murmured, her smile deepening, a warmth in her cheeks. "I find I lack someone to have such conversations with." She slowed, stopping, and reached around him, to gently run a hand over his horse's neck. "He's beautiful. Perhaps you could ride with me on occasion as well."
--
"I'd be most privileged to," he responded, lips curled. His eyes could hardly tear themselves from her form, if he wasn't gazing upon her face he was trailing down her body, to watching each sandaled foot fall in front of the other. "Would you like to ride him now? It's a warm morning. I'd be happy to escort you to your destination."
--
She did not fail to notice where his gaze wandered and she found she did not mind. She should. She was a married woman. A respectable woman. And yet she welcomed Elijah's gaze and his smile, his desire to spend time with her. More than welcomed it, she desired it. He left her breathless, goosebumps on her skin just from being near him. "I would very much enjoy the company. Will you help me up?" she asked, stepping closer to both man and beast.
--
Elijah moved in the position to aid her upon the large stallion, a hand bracing her back as he lifted. Soon enough she was atop his beast, and the two were moving slowly in the direction she has been heading. "Pray tell, where to?"
--
That simple touch had her breath catching. She settled herself easily on the horse, leaning over to rub a hand over his proud neck. She smiled down at Elijah, genuine happiness across her features. "The temple," she said. "I go almost every morning." She watched his face for a reaction, wondering if he might mock her as her husband often did.
--
"He seems to rather like you," Elijah mused as his dark horse did not seem to mind a presence other than Elijah's atop his mighty back. His head tilted upwards to find her gaze. "Dedication." He wasn't an all too frequent visitor himself, which he often lamented. "I take it you believe what they say about the angry gods?"
--
And somehow he did not disappoint. How wonderful. No mockery. No cruelty. Just interest. For a moment she nearly didn't answer. "My mother was very dedicated, especially before her death." At his last question she hesitated once more. "I do. Yes," she finally answered.
--
A nod, a nostalgic look in his eyes for a moment. "As is my mother." Unfortunately, he had little to do with her these days. "Perhaps you pass her by often. She's likely praying as we speak." Praying for the salvation of her children. "My father thinks its nonsense of course."
--
She saw the look in his eye, recognizing it. She missed her mother. Mourned the way it had ended between them before she died. For a moment she missed her father as well. "I do not know that my father ever believed. But he humored my mother." Her eyes turned to the ever lightening sky. "Does she? Perhaps I do. I come early, so as not to embarrass my husband with obvious devotion. As it is no longer in style to believe the warnings of our gods, but instead to put all of our faith in our government." And she had probably said too much, as she often did.
--
"It sounds as though she were fortunate." Listening to her unfurled a smile. She was so full of opinion and conviction it was a reminder of a woman he once knew... But there was something so unique about Celeste. "To be wise would be to not fully trust any man in a position of power, take it from me. Between you and I, half of them aren't to be trusted... can't speak for the Gods, however. We've never had a close relationship."
--
She laughed, surprisingly herself. "None of us truly do," she said. "But we try." She gave him a considering look. "I would normally say no man can be trusted, not fully. Not by a woman." And who was he that she spoke so freely, so easily? Things that she often had to hide away or paint with pretty words. "My hope is the gods one day prove as devoted to us as we are to they." But who could say. Perhaps there was no way to avoid the doom the priestesses were sure would come upon them. Dark days.
--
"And why is that?" He asked boldly, challenging her to elaborate on why men could not be trusted. He wanted to pick her brain, unearth her thoughts. She was a deep thinking woman, and in his experience most were - more so than their greedy, power hungry husbands. To say Elijah loved women was an understatement.
--
Her eyebrow raised and a smile curled her lips at his tone. "Because men hold all the power. And one should never trust anyone who hoards power as men hoard power." Had she ever spoken so plainly or boldly before? She did not think she had. Always she hid behind the demure mask her mother had so carefully carved for her. The one she herself had perfected. "It makes them blind. And dangerous, even when they would not ordinarily be so." It made them ignore the very gods. And yet Elijah did not seem so very blind.
--
"Dangerous, I agree, however I do think a man blinded by love, by loyalty, is the most dangerous of all." And many knew just how dangerous Elijah could be - how very willing he was to do whatever was needed for those whom he cared for. "Those are the men you ought to watch out for. They’ll pat you on the back with one hand and slit your throat with the other. Men of greed have others do their dirty work.”
--
What would she know of men blinded by love? Her father had loved her mother, had been loyal, but that was not really the kind of love and loyalty to which Elijah was speaking. Her own husband hardly loved her. Nor was he loyal. "You speak as if you know from experience. Are you such a dangerous man?" And shouldn't it make her wary to think he might be? Instead of making her blood race. She knew the rumors, as she knew most rumors about senate members.
--
“Well I’m certainly not motivated by greed,” he responded, eyes locked upon hers. “I have all the power and riches I could ever want or need.” The Mikaelson fortune was immense to say the least. Materialism had never been the impetus behind Elijah - he’d always been privileged. Materialist he was, though motivated by far more dangerous motives. His lips curled. “Yet if someone threatened my family… I’d destroy everything they hold dear.”
--
"Hmm. Good to know. Forewarned, forearmed. Though I've no intention of harming your family, so I see no reason we can not be... friends. And no danger to each other." Or at least, not that kind of danger. She feared a friendship with him might be a different kind of danger altogether. She found she could not look away from the intensity of his dark eyes. Or the curl of his lip. He was far too entrancing. She felt as if she scarcely breathed.
--
Friends. It seemed pale in comparison to what he knew deep down he wanted. What he had not the mind to admit he had wanted since he had first glimpsed the foolish old man's wife. Still, it had to do. It would - because he couldn't imagine not engaging in another conversation despite it being only their second. "Oh I don't know about that..." He replied, somewhat teasing. "Women aren't to be trusted." The smile turned into a grin.
--
Friends. It was less than she wanted, but she was a married woman. Perhaps... had she met him under different circumstances. And how she wished she had. But she laughed, head falling back. Her hand finding his on the reins and holding it in her own for a moment. "This is too true," she said, a smile still on her lips. "Perhaps we might make exceptions for one another? If you would be inclined I would be most pleased." Only two meetings and she knew she would be unable to give up his company. "Truly, Elijah, I am grateful to see you again."
--
Elijah. The way his name rolled off her tongue, her laugh, they had his chest tighten. "As am I, Celeste." He wondered how intellectually starved Xristo had kept her. He couldn't imagine the man appreciated just how lucky he was to have such a magnificent woman. And did he - he then wondered. Did he really have her? "I suppose trust can be earned." The hand upon his was not escaped from this time, but encouraged. Sadly, the temple was in sight. He'd never been so bitter about the damn thing.
--
The sight of her beloved temple had never brought her less joy. Her heart sank, even, to realize their time together was ending. Oh, he was dangerous. Already she was wondering when she might see him again. Her hand tightened on his, her eyes serious on his face. A sort of panic had her heart fluttering. "I come every morning," she said. "Just before the the sun rises. Alone and on foot. All know this." And the road was nearly empty here this time of morning. It was why she came, to avoid others seeing her and speaking ill of her husband's superstitious wife. Would he take her meaning though? Her invitation?
--
"Perhaps our paths will again cross," he replied, every intention of meeting her again the next morning. An arm rose to aid her down from his animal, carefully allowing her feet to touch the ground once more with all the necessary support as they stopped outside the temple. "Until then," he began, reluctant to let go of her hand, and a little awestruck at the invitation. In politeness (and the urge to keep contact for a moment more) his lips met the back of her palm. "Good bye, Celeste."
--
She closed her eyes as his hands grasped her, helping her down. And she wished he would keep them there, wished he would stay with her. Dangerous wishes. Dangerous wants. She couldn't let herself be caught up in this. In whatever he was making her feel. "Until then," she murmured, dark eyes caught on his, shivering at the light touch of his lips to her skin. "Good day, Elijah," she barely breathed the words, turning reluctantly to enter the temple, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Elijah! You rest easy upon eyes-- see yourself enter, and made welcome.” Batiatus indicated that the younger senator should enter and he stood, reaching to embrace the other man in greeting.
“There is a matter I wish to discuss with you at length, provided we are free from prying ears, but it will wait a moment more. Xristo’s wife brought wine--could I tempt your tongue? It is too long since you graced presence. What keeps you so?”
“Tell me, do you make a habit of letting those in your care wander off?” Voice acerbic, Batiatus eyes the woman hired to ensure his son’s safety coldly.
The market was a busy, bustling place. Most times, the senator preferred to send a slave instead of coming himself, but he was looking for something very specific and explaining exactly what he had in mind was a daunting task.
He stopped, reaching for the amphora on display. “This is good work.” Surprise colored his tone. “Is it yours?”
