"I'm surprised you answered my summons, Siu." Marit's murmured comment greets the tall, lean man as he steps through the open garden doors into her chamber. "I'd have thought you would ignore it on principle." Her throaty, silken voice holds a hint of amusement, but it sounds forced tonight.
Siu leans against the door frame, dark eyes picking out the vampire's slender form as she stands in front of the mirror. Her expression, reflected in the glass, is strangely smooth; not the mobile, wickedly mischievous visage he has grown accustomed to seeing. In the months since she had first shown him the extent of her power she had taken to appearing suddenly and without warning; it might be a glimpse of her watching him from across a crowded plaza, or she might step out of a dark street and walk beside him, or he might turn around as he walked the grounds of his own home and she would simply be there, waiting. It was disconcerting to say the least – but though he waited for her to bring him painfully to heel as she had before, she only looked at him with those dark, knowing eyes and disappeared again into the night; sometimes after speaking with him for a time, sometimes without saying anything at all.
"I've heard …things." His low, rumbling voice finally answers, as he crosses his arms across his chest and watches her. "I heard that there was a challenge for your place in the Triad." The simple, rumpled elegance of his dark slacks and un-tucked silk shirt suited him, but it seemed mundane compared to the garments she'd donned for the night's ‘festivities'. His eyes roamed over the fall of ebony hair that brushed her waist, the pleated white linen of the dress she wore, the glint of the beaten gold gorget she wore about her throat, and the matching cuffs about her wrists.
"Yes, there has been a challenge." Marit's voice hesitates as she meets his eyes in the mirror; watching his face, noticing inconsequential things such as the way the golden light of the lamps lit about the chamber burnish his skin. When the silence had stretched into minutes she speaks again, "I want you there at my shoulder, as my sword-bearer." Turning in place she faces him, "But not if I have to force you, or if you are going to be sullen and brooding. It must be a show of strength; yours and mind to have you to heel."
Siu frowns, sensual lips curving down as his brow furrows. "I'm not sullen." His gravely voice sounds offended and, yes indeed, sullen.
A momentary smile flickers on Marit's lips at his response before she levels a serious stare upon him, without even a hint of magic behind it. Just pinpricks of golden light reflected in the ebony depths of her eyes. "Tonight is no game Siu – I'll not toy with you, and I must know that you will not hinder me or make me look weak." She allows just a thread of entreaty to enter her voice, the sound of her first language - now long dead and forgotten to all but her - accenting the honey and amber of its rich tone. "I ask it, I do not command."
Siu contemplates her for long minutes, still frowning. The struggle is apparent upon his face; his stubbornly independent nature and his fear that she would make him a slave, against the draw of her power and the attraction he felt for her as both man and lion. Finally he nods and unfolds his arms, straightening from the slouched pose he'd taken. "Alright, what do I have to do?" His voice is wary, but it's evident that his intent is to help, as she'd asked.
"Excellent!" Marit had been completely still while she awaited his answer, her dark gaze never wavering from him. Now she moves, gliding across the room to a chest, where she extracts a carefully wrapped bundle, "Put these on. If you need, I'll help you." She lays the bundle on the divan next to the standing mirror, opening it to reveal a white linen kilt, heavy gilded belt, and an Egyptian-styled collar that would cover his shoulders.
Siu picks up the collar with disbelief written on his face, momentary shock registering at its weight. "What is this?"
"Gold, lapis lazuli, carnelian, jasper…." Marit waves a hand, "It doesn't matter." She returns to the mirror and draws her hair over her shoulder, plaiting it into long braids that are then wound about her head and stabbed with jewel-picked pins. She obviously expects him to change, and after a moment Siu grumbles under his breath and strips off his clothes, tossing them on the divan as he glares down at the costume she'd laid out. Picking up the kilt he wraps it about his waist, though he has more than a sneaking suspicion that it isn't arranged correctly. The belt and collar – as well as the wrist and arm cuffs he finds under the folded cloth – are at least easier to put on.
Patting the last pin into place Marit turns her head to look at him, an amused smirk touching her lips as she shakes her head. "The folds are wrong, here…" Gliding over to him she reties the belt and pulls the folds and creases of the linen kilt straight, making sure they fall correctly. He looks down at the top of her head, bemused, as she fusses with his clothing, smoothing the lay of the material over his lean hips and muscular thighs. Touching the thinner cuffs on his arms she pushes them up to rest above his biceps. "There…now kneel and I'll fasten the collar clasps." Still watching her with bemusement he complies, silent until she adjusts the collar, brushing the back of his neck with hands as cold as death.
"Your hands are icy Marit," The rumbled protest stills her, as she stands behind him fastening the last tiny, nearly invisible clasps. "You haven't fed tonight have you?" Siu turns his head to look at her over his shoulder, having to tilt his head up only slightly to look at the vampire woman. He blinks, having not really realized how petite she was; the sense of her power made her seem taller somehow.
