GoodbyeHelenaAndPavloIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | PreGameLogs | Goodbye Helena and Pavlo [timeline: after events in Revelations] A few days after her discussion with her stepfather, Helena arranged to meet Pavlo in a hotel out in shadow that they had come to frequent in their trysts. The hotel knew them by the name of Lord and Lady Chatterley, which amused Helena to no end. When Pavlo arrived and had opened the door to their rented and well-appointed suite, he found Helena not waiting in the gossamer negligee he found so enticing on her—and even more enticing when it was on the suite's floor—but instead sitting out on the private patio that overlooked the mountains, a bottle of red wine chilling on the table in front of her. The bottle was open and Helena had already started in on it. She looked up at Pavlo as he entered and motioned him out to her. She was still in her street clothes, and her face was somber. Pavlo paused in the doorway. He had a spray of fire lilies in the crook of his arm, the tall, flame-colored blossoms standing out against the dark blue of his jacket. His startled expression, on first seeing Helena, had shaded to concern by the time he stepped out on to the patio to join her. He laid the flowers on the table next to the wine bottle. "What's wrong?" he asked her, low. Helena stood and walked into his arms, her hands cradling his face as she kissed him hello. It was an ardent kiss, deep and long, and when finished she touched her fingers to his lips as she stood back. "My father found out about us," she said without further preamble as she poured a glass of wine for him. His brows drew together. The tension that had melted into ardor at the touch of her lips returned to the set of his shoulders. "Your father?" he responded warily, his tone of voice adding the further, unspoken query, Which one? "Lord Ishtar," Helena replied to the unspoken question. She handed Pavlo the filled glass and retook her seat, her eyes settling on the beautiful flowers rather than her lover's face. Pavlo took the wineglass from her hand, but did not sit down. "He doesn't approve." It was not a question. "He wants the relationship to end," she replied flatly, playing with the flowers. "He has influence, and he said he'd arrange for you to either be a guard in a pit diver camp or arrange for a foreign posting—I'd get to choose." Helena stopped her playing and looked up at him. "I refused to choose. We argued. I finally got him to more-or-less relent and not retaliate against you for seeing me, but he wants the relationship to end. If it doesn't, he'll follow through on his threat," she finished softly. Pavlo set the wineglass down carefully as if he were afraid he might break it if he didn't. "Why? What is it that he so objects to?" Helena looked back down at the flowers again. "When I told him I wouldn't choose your fate, he said he'd choose for me and that I wouldn't like it. I grew very angry at that point and slammed my hand down. There was glass on the table and I broke it inadvertently and sliced my palm. We stopped our arguing long enough to deal with that and by the end he'd calmed down enough that I got him to agree to forgo his plans for you just as long as we ended things. I never really got out of him what his specific objection was, but by the end I was happy enough to have gotten him to forgo the plans that I was afraid to push it." She took a drink of wine and set the glass back down. The line of Pavlo's jaw hardened; he was almost visibly keeping a rein on his temper. His voice was unnaturally level as he said, "Odd. Lord Ishtar never struck me before as an arbitrary tyrant ... or a man who would deliver such an insult." Helena closed her eyes briefly and reopened them, her expression distressed. "Don't... Please, Pavlo, let it go. I don't want you and Father fighting each other. It would be bad for both our Houses and it would tear me apart. Pavlo met her gaze for a moment; then as her words sank in, the anger seemed to drain out of him, leaving only bewilderment and pain. "We knew this was a fling—I don't remember either of us intending a permanent relationship when we started—and now it's time to end it. More abruptly than we expected, perhaps. But time to end it." "I know," Pavlo said softly. "I know we didn't mean it to last." He moved behind Helena and laid his hands on her shoulders. "Then why is it so hard, all of a sudden, for me to give you up?" Helena stood and turned into his arms. She hugged him tightly. "Because we have such fun together," she said, her voice muffled in his coat. "You're so...creative." Helena lapsed into giggles. His arms tightened around her; his voice, nearly in her ear, wavered between laughter and tears. "It's a Barimen trait. It had to come out somewhere." "Dear Pavlo. I will never forget you, you know that, right?" Helena looked up from his coat and into his eyes. She forced a smile. "Who knows? Maybe we'll find each other again later in our lives. I'll be older and out from under the thumb of my father. You'll have had a stunning and successful career in the military and may be wanting to settle down. What's to stop something like that from happening if we're both interested?" "Something to strive for," Pavlo said in a low voice. His eyes were so intent on her face, as if he was memorizing it, that for a moment she could see the elusive family resemblance between him and Claudio. His thumb gently stroked along her lower lip. She nipped at it playfully and smiled up at him. "We still have tonight. We can make it a really tremendous time, try to break our standing records on various things..." The smile turned into a grin. "We'll make it a night to remember," Pavlo promised. "For always." Helena's grin took on epic proportions as she pulled her shirt off over her head and tossed it behind her where it caught on the chilling wine bottle. Skin unblemished and perfect, arms firmly muscled from hours of training on the sword dancing field, and her breasts... Helena grabbed a handful of Pavlo's jacket and pulled him toward the door leading inside. "Mr. Barimen, when we started this relationship you promised to educate me concerning mustaches and their uses. I believe I require remedial instruction concerning this particular subject..." "We'll take it slowly and carefully, Lady Helena," Pavlo told her, his voice dipping intimately, "and I want you to pay close attention, because I mean to examine you afterwards ... very, very thoroughly..." Helena laughed delightedly at the double entendre as Pavlo closed the door behind them. [And fade to black...] |
