Restless; Yllithia

Mutig’s hands worked systematically over the leather, readjusting straps to oil what he had seen as being neglected. His ribs still hurt from where the hammer had lain into him from the fight only days before up in the hills of Ironforge. But he worked diligently with the thoughts of whom the outfit would be protecting, not just the woman he loved, but his child as well. If she wasn’t going to take precautions, by the Light, he was going to make sure nothing would become faulty while she carried what was his.

A creak from the door brought his eyes from his work to see Yllithia stopped mid-stride, the sunlight behind her shadowing the plate she currently wore but her face clearly seen, eyes wide quickly fading to a soft smile. He had heard her coming, she wasn’t so quiet with all that metal strapped onto her, granted softer footsteps than other warriors, but one can’t be too soft when wearing heavy metals like the ones her suit was crafted from.

“What are you doing out of bed?” She gently spoke, her voice tired from both scolding him the last few days and her current encounter, whatever that might have been.

“I was restless.” He glanced back down with a frown, continuing his original task.

“Don’t make me put you back there.” Ylli chuckled softly, closing the door behind her. “And what exactly are you doing with my leathers?”

“You haven’t oiled them in a while. I told you they needed it.”

“That doesn’t mean you should be doing it for me. I’ll get around to it.” Exasperation clearly noted.

“I was restless.” Mutig finished the chest piece setting it carefully on the table and slowly leaning back in the wooden chair attempting to stretch out his back without straining the still sore muscles on his side.

“Mutig…” Here it came, he’d heard the same thing every day she walked in. Whether he was sharpening his weapons or hers, going over strategic papers for his upcoming missions, oiling leather, or the several other things she’d ‘caught’ him in the act of.

“You’re not working right now.” She was pulling off her gauntlets while walking towards him. “You need your rest.” Setting the gloves down on the table she pulled up a seat next to him, her smile attempting a disappointed frown. “Or else you’re going to either be here longer…” Scooting closer to him she set a hand on his thin cloth pants. “Or hurt out there where I can’t remind you to take it easy.”

He didn’t flinch. Although he enjoyed her touch, she was repeating the same words she had said before. He just wasn’t used to doing nothing. His eyes wandered over her current outfit, even as imposing as it was meant to look, she couldn’t pull it off, especially the goggles. Tankatronic something or the other, he recalled, yet the metal and leather holding together the glowing glass made her look more comical than frightening. He leaned forward pressing his lips to hers as his hand deftly unstrapped the head piece while she was lost in his tenderness. Pulling off the goggles he watched her open her eyes, her skin smudged and darkened with grim from where the goggles hadn’t been. A grinned danced on her lips.

“See some dirt you just couldn’t let sit for a while?”

“Now that you mention it…” Mutig examined the goggles, turning them over in his hands as he wiped a thumb across one of the lenses.

Chuckling she plucked them out of his hands, picking up the oiling rag as well.

“No. Rest for a bit.”

Rest? How could he rest, he’d been home for only a few days while she had gone about her usual business, trudging through swamps, taking portals back to the past, to a fight he had originally been a part of, doing something while he waited not so patiently at home. This was not the life for him. He had lived through worse and desired to be back out there, stopping reinforcements before they reached their destination, slaughtering the dissipating legion, scouting out the Black Temple its self. He watched her slide the over-sized shield off her back, also unstrapping the bulky sword from her hip and setting both in the chair she had moments ago been sitting in.

Mutig got up, standing behind her he wrapped his hands around her waist kissing her elongated ear.

“Let me help you.” He whispered softly.

“I don’t need help.” She whispered back, not pulling away from him.

Carefully his fingers found the latches holding her spaulders to her shoulders, a quick flick and they loosened. He pulled them off, setting them with the rest of her gear laying on the table. Her neck exposed, hair already brushed aside, it was too tempting. His lips were upon her again, nuzzling against her soft skin, breathing deep. No matter where she had been she always had the calming scent of rain about her.

“I think,” He spoke softly against her, lips brushing on her skin, “I might go lay down again.” Mutig’s hands were already loosening the buckles and straps along her sides that were holding the plate against her chest.

“Oh? Care for some company?” Yllithia smirked to herself.

“I’m still restless.”