Dealing with the book of love (cw/tw)

He slung the wine around in the glass, mostly because he had seen Daniel do it all the time and it was like whenever the lycan did it, he had to explain how you could tell a wine's quality by the curtains that would form from slinging it around. Daniel would have said that this was an excellent wine and somehow manage to mock anything posh and proper in his statement. He looked up as she spoke but when she mentioned Daniel, he frowned a little and looked away for a moment. "Absolutely not," he said a little serious before he looked at the fenix, knowing she meant well, but he couldnt possibly believe that it was what she truly wanted. "I cant be friends with him after what he did," he said. Even if the lycan was right and his intentions were truly good, it didnt excuse what he did.

Buffy felt like he was being a bit harsh, and she looked down. "Belial, I'm not saying that I want him in my life ... I'm saying that I want some answers, that I need to have some sort of reason other than the one he slung out," she said in a just as serious voice. Placing the glass back down on the table, she took another mouthful of food, chewing on it as she thought it through. "I need some sort of closure if I'm ever going to heal from this," she said, looking at him with sad eyes.

Buffy sighed as he placed a hand on her thigh, looking at it as she feared he was going to lecture her about her safety. It wasn't about that right now, she wanted answers at some point, and all she was asking was for Baal to accept that. She could hear he felt regretful in his harsh words, looking at him with a small smile as he said that they could figure something out when the time was right. Taking another sip of her drink, she finished her plate, placing a hand over her full stomach. "I think I'm about ready to listen to that book," she smiled.

He was happy that he could make her smile even if it was just a little bit after that small bump. Letting her finish her plate, he took small sips of his glass, trying to figure out what it was that he could taste, though there was no words that came to mind. It wasnt as horrible as cooked food, but from what he knew about wine was that it was storing grapes in a tight enclosure for a very very long time. He blinked a little like he had forgotten the book as she mentioned it. He nodded and got up to get it before he returned next to her again. "Alright, so it's an old book. Which means that there are a few stereotypes," he explained before he kissed Buffy's cheek and went to the first page to start.

Buffy chuckled as Baal gave his small trigger warning, but she didn't mind, laying down in his lap as he had adjusted himself enough. Looking up at him she smiled, waiting for the story's characters to be introduced. What she liked about Baal was how he could make every story seem so alive in her mind. "Could you start by introducing the man and the woman he is pursuing?" she asked.

"That would be spoiling it," Baal said in a warm tone as he looked down at her on his lap, smiling a little to himself as he wet his lips. He begun and the story went a little like this:
It was a fine morning for the man. Crops had been harvested and brought to the mill where they would be stored nicely. He had been working for a family for a month or two now. The pay was alright, just enough to keep his head about water, but that was better than no money at all. Once the crops were stored, the father came out, waving his hands as he shook his head, "No you have to take the crops to the city," he told the young man, who looked at the pile and then nodded with a sigh. Packing the caravan, he went to the city, and that's when he saw her. The most stunning girl, obviously filthy rich and mingling with her rich friends on a balcony above the busy street. He stopped dead in his tracks, making the small horse neigh in dismay as his eyes couldnt stop looking at her. He wondered what was going through her beautiful mind, was her thoughts just as beautiful as she seemed to be?

Buffy chuckled, closing her eyes as she listened to the story that Baal spoke with such elegant words. When he spoke, it really did feel like she was teleported back in time.

The sun was hot on this otherwise normal summer day and the woman was attending a social gathering for those of her alignment. She was socializing, laughing and pretending to have fun, but there had always been a rebellious side to her. Looking down from the balcony, she spotted the simple farmer, seeing his face with skin tinted by the sun was a dead give away about his status in this world. Not to mention the worn down clothes he was wearing, however she wondered what that life was like. Soon she got distracted, being pulled inside, her eyes lingering one last time on the stranger passing by on the street down below.

He could have sworn that the sun was orbiting around her, because as soon as she was pulled, a small cloud in the sky covered the sun. He looked up at it, swearing that it had to be some sort of sign. He shook the foolish thoughts from his mind, because there was no way that he could ever get to get even a glimpse of her again. For all he knew, she could be with someone else or bound to be. He sold the crops from his caravan as his mind didnt seem to want to let her go. Frowning to himself he asked the owner about the family residing there, pointing towards the balcony. The storekeeper sent him a warning look as he shook his head, "That's the judge's house. You probably saw his daughter, the girl that many men like you would want in your life. You better not linger long around there and have the judge catch you staring. I've seen peasants like you whipped in the street!" the storeowner told him, which made the man feel frightened, but it was like as soon as he stepped out the store, his eyes wandered up to the balcony one last time. He sighed to himself and shook his head.
The girl wouldnt leave his mind for days. He couldnt stop imagining what it would be like, had he only had the right standing in society to be allowed to talk to her. He would want nothing but to hear her speak her mind about anything and everything. A week passed and yet once again, he stood there with the caravan, staring up at the balcony, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

The girl saw many suitors, all from high in society, but she never seemed to be pleased with her father's choices. She was not only to have a big dowry, but her talents in entertainment and her beauty alone made even those classes above her take notice. On that day she was sitting on the balcony, stitching as she was humming to herself. People stopped when they heard her voice, already knowing who was singing, but the song was both beautiful and sad. She was singing about a bird, it's wings not strong enough to carry it to it's destination, and how it was forced to simply jump around on the bush in which it's nest was. As she sang, it was clear that the town was in awe, but nobody dared looking up at her in fear of her father's strong power.

Seeing her humming on the balcony as she stitched to herself made him frown a little. He must have been crazy or suicidal, or maybe both. With a courageous shine, he stepped forward as he looked at her from down below. "What is the lady stitching?" he asked, accent thick with his lower class as he felt the eyes of the crowd look at him like he was mad. He didnt see anything wrong in asking, he was from the countryside where no lords or judges were living.

The woman looked down as a man started speaking, and she was rather surprised at how brave and straight forward he was. "I am stitching the sunflowers that grow in my father's garden," she replied, her voice soft and beautiful like a bell. Her speech was formal and clearly bore the accent of the high society she mingled with. "But I think it be best if you run along now ... I wouldn't wish for my father to catch a glimpse of you speaking to me," she said, however she did have a playful smile on her lips.

Her reply made a broad smile appear on his lips as he nodded. He had seen sunflowers before, seen how they could fill with edible seeds that was mostly for the rich - At least he couldnt ever afford a packet of sunflower seeds over a good sack of potatoes for less. Her warning made him wrinkle his nose as he didnt seem to fully understand, "I've heard the stories quite alright. A hundred whips would be worth the smile on your lips, miss" he said before he thought the townsfolk had seen enough of the charade. He bowed his head before he went to the shopkeeper that he always sold to. "Should we have him handled?" a maid asked, having heard everything.

The lady couldn't help but feel smitten by the man's words, feeling a light colour to her cheeks before she watched him go. The maid she turned to made her frown at the words she spoke. "He wasn't being indecent, so I think that would have been rather harsh, don't you think?" She spoke, her words soft but scolding at the same time. If she had needed help she would've called for it. And she found it rather insulting that her own maid was peaking her nose in to things like this. "Now go before I'll have you handled," she said.

The woman sighed, looking down at her embroidered fabric. The sunflower was just about finished, and as the maid spoke of their walk she nodded. "I'll just need to freshen up, then I will be,"[/color] the woman said, getting up from their seat, brushing their heavy dress down to adjust it.
After a quick wash of her face, she was ready to head out, one of her maids holding a shading umbrella for her, looking around at the people they passed. The forrest was not far from the town, and the woman always liked walking to the forrest in the afternoon.

The lady let her do what she had to, standing nicely by the front door as her husband seemed to discuss something with the judge. She rolled her eyes a little when they seemed to be uncertain of something that would be obvious, but obviously she had no way of pointing it out. She was quiet for the most part, until they reached the forest where their other friends were chatting as their maids were busy setting up a minor picnic, "The sun is awfully hot," one of them complained as the other pulled at her fabric, "I've told you to wear lighter dresses, they wont trap the heat as much as this thick fabric of yours, granted that it does make you stand out. Wont help if you pass out from overheating though," she said and the small group started to chuckle.

The woman chuckled, shaking her head politely. "Just because it is hot outside, does not mean we are to be indecent," she argued, holding her shading umbrella above her head. She was wearing gloves as well, anything to hide her skin that was already so fair. "I do hope that the servants have arranged for a light picnic at the small pond," she said in a pondering tone. However her mind was preoccupied with thinking of the strange man that had gathered courage to defy her father. It made her wonder if he was truly brave or just outright a fool.

The woman scoffed at her friend's reply, shaking her head lightly as she looked around at the nature. Sitting down at the picnic, the woman held her posture, letting everyone else talk. Drifting off in her mind, she thought of the stranger that had approached her earlier. How genuine he had seemed in his words, and just how nice he had been towards. It wasn't often she was greeted nicely just because of her being her, and not because of her status. The question seemed to return her to reality, looking at the friend that had asked her with a polite smile. "Not all of us dream of marriage and children ... Some of us want to change how we are viewed as women," she said calmly, taking a sip of her tea. So far she had refused any suitors, and her father was getting impatient. She was still rather young, so she had a few years before she needed to be forced in to marriage. "However he seems to hope that surrounding me with women who are indeed married that it will affect him," she said, chuckling slightly.

The woman chuckled, shaking her head at her friends. "I only get to choose because I am the only child; And he made my mother a promise to let me fend for myself," she said in a wise voice, however she did pity her friends. At least their husbands weren't violent. She had seen how wealthy ladies tried to hide their bruises in church, seen how their eyes were fixated on the ground.
She followed her friends, peeking her head out from the trees. Seeing the man made her heart skip a beat. How could that be possible? Did he just know how to get her attention? Her eyes wandered, seeing his strong arms and broad shoulders made her feel a certain way. "It looks ... Freeing," she simply noted. She felt the urge to strip down, jump in and join as if she had been a wild child. However she needed to be weary of her friends. She took a step closer, feeling the temptation strike again, but alas she couldn't swim. The only water she had ever been in had been a bath. Taking one more step, she smiled softly as she looked at the men.
That was before the ground beneath her gave in, making her fall down the steep drop, screaming in fear as she plummeted towards the water, hitting it with a loud splash.

Nothing. That was all she could hear underwater, and though the water was clear, she couldn't see anything. She had accepted that this was how it ended. She wouldn't get to see another day, but then someone grabbed at hold of her, pulling her above the surface. She gasped, coughing up water as he struggled to bring them to shore. His teasing words made her look at him in amazement. "I don't know ... What's the opposite of a whipping?" she asked softly, though clearly strained from having gotten water down her lungs for a few seconds. She felt the grass under her, but it was as if all she could do was look at the man as he left to put on pants.
Her friends came running and she sat up, still rather shocked from the ordeal, shaking a little as the water had soaked through all her layers of clothes. "I'm alright ... It's just this stupid dress that I'm worried about," she said, but that was a lie. She couldn't care less about her clothes, as she so many times had tried to convince her father to just let her wear pants. However that was for a man. She looked over at the man, seeing his muscles shine in the sunlight reflecting in the water droplets. "None of you brought a spare set of clothes, I presume," she chuckled, looking down at the very heavy fabric.