Tagged : Astrid | Words : 550 | Notes : Terrible starter.

Arnbjorn would never understand how these morsels wore this many clothes all day. His wolf blood fought back, compelling him to scratch at his cuffs and the center of his chest, wishing he felt fur instead of...this...miserably, itchy weave. The scratching remained subtle, though, at least for a Nord concealing a beast within and in the midst of all these scraps whose necks he would be just fine to tear out at any given moment. It was a good thing he had Astrid's scent and body - enticing him in twenty different ways in that dress she was wearing and putting all the other "women" in this room to shame - to keep his mind occupied. Otherwise, a few people might figure out he didn't belong at this "dinner party" while he ripped into the people who'd been standing beside them sipping like priests on these miserable, watered-down, horrible-smelling drinks being passed around. Arnbjorn squinted his eyes shut, pushing out all the attacks on his senses. Damn, he didn't want to be here.

He knew he had to be here, but he didn't want to be. His job in service to Sithis was making the weapons that the Brotherhood used to kill and, when the beast was needed, setting out to fulfill a contract that Astrid thought fit for him. Babette and the old man were the deceitful ones, luring people in and doing away with them in secrecy. But Babette and the old man couldn't pose as a rich couple at a dinner party. Arnbjorn and Astrid were the only two that fit the bill, and even Arnbjorn hadn't fit before Astrid's...convincing had gotten him to let some of his mane go to look the part. The assassination wasn't what Arnbjorn preferred, but there was something to the two of them making their way through all these ignorant scraps and only getting attention because of Astrid's beauty and Arnbjorn's intimidating presence. They were going to have no trouble getting the couple described in the contract separated from the rest of the pack of rich bastards and bleeding from their necks before the hosts ran out of drinks.

But they'd only make it there if Arnbjorn didn't decide he wanted to slaughter someone for bashing his head with scents and sounds like a troll with a club. Growling under his breath but trying not to look ready to rip heads off, Arnbjorn turned to his wife just off to his side, appreciating how absolutely stunning she looked. If Arnbjorn had his way, he'd separate her from the crowd to have his way with her, because all the right parts of her were there for the taking. But those pleasures could be found later, when the job was done. Right now, Arnbjorn didn't want to risk ruining their contract by turning it into an excuse to ravish his wife. Instead, he simply sniffed uncomfortably and stayed against the wall, just watching everyone in front of him as he spoke. "You find them?", he asked her, quietly, his gruff voice only loud enough for her to hear. He hoped she'd found them. If he had to pretend to care about the food being pushed at him one more time, he was going to rip off the servants' arms and eat them.

{Words} 769 {Tagged} Arnbjorn {Wearing} Something fancy and slightly revealing probably >.>;

Sharp eyes pierced many a rich man's heart - in many various ways.

Only complete self control kept her from snarling at men that were looking at her like she was a little maiden for the taking. All she could do was watch with mild interest at how their eyes tracked her and they seemed highly distracted from their conversations. Astrid had always been the object of unwanted attention. She didn't complain much about that certain predicament in life. After all, it was unwanted attention that had led her onto her path of becoming who she was. It was unwanted attention that had eventually caused her to become the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. And it had been unwanted attention that would secure the only man in the world she could picture being attracted to as her husband. While her uncle and his prying gaze still made her snarl in anger, she couldn't complain about the outcome.

Her sharp eyes cut over to where her husband was in obvious discomfort. Obvious perhaps only to her eyes, trained over many years of being close to him to recognize when the various sensations were getting to be a bit too much for the otherwise untouchable werewolf. Moving in a subtly sexual way, Astrid laid her palm flat on his chest in a comforting gesture, purring very softly under her breath. The blonde softly brushed her thumb back and forth across his muscular chest to comfort him further. There were few sensations this overpowering that he enjoyed - most of them involving much more exciting acts in their furs than they had thus far gotten to enjoy at this 'party'. Unfortunately, a slight contact and brush was as far as she could go here without missing their contract. As undisciplined Astrid was with her husband close to her, she realized that this was a big break for the brotherhood - and she had convinced Arnbjorn to complete it with her because she needed the best on this important contract. That meant either Arnbjorn or Babette...and Babette was hardly a candidate for such a party.

Not that Arnbjorn exactly fit in either. She took in his intimidating figure again, a very soft sound of satisfaction issuing from her lips. His inability to perfectly fit into this otherwise 'high society' party was just another reason he was so wildly attractive to her. Finally pushing her eyes forcefully away from her husband - lest she ravish him, Astrid's blue eyes flickered through the crowd. It took hardly any time to see the targets - they seemed to be speaking currently to a group of people that looked nearly identical to them both in stature and dress. Astrid had seen enough 'fancy' garments for the night, that was for sure. She was well aware that her own dress was cut differently from every other woman in the place. She was also well aware of the looks she was receiving both from the men, the women, and her husband. The men had lust in their eyes, the women jealousy. Only her husbands searching gaze sent her pulse skittering in anticipation.

"Yes. Far left wall, he's standing with his back toward us, his wife is across on the arm of another man." Flickering her eyes toward her large husband, a slight twist of her lips showed Astrid's humor on the situation. "You could probably lure her away as easily as I could lure him.", she finally commented. No doubt the woman had something wanting if she could so easily slide onto the arm of another man.

{NOTES } Gosh, I just love these two

Tagged : Astrid | Words : 1118 | Notes :  Hey, muse. 

Astrid never failed to know what he needed at the exact moment he needed it. So distracted by the way the sights, sounds, and smells swept constantly across his mind, Arnbjorn almost didn't realize what she was doing, putting her hand on his chest, until he had traced the length of that arm to her lips and heard the low purr from her lips. Immediately, the entire rest of the room was shut out, and Arnbjorn simply took in his wife for the dozenth time since they had arrived to pose as patrons of this party. His mind still wasn't focused, but both of them knew it was far better that he have his mind consumed with having his way with every inch of his wife instead of with even the smallest distractions bothering him somewhere in the room. He grasped at her hand and rubbed his own powerful fingers across her more slender ones just long enough to assure her that he was in control before dropping his hands back to his side, where they were probably supposed to be. As much as he did want to have his wife, in that dress she was wearing, and take her to a back room for a whole different form of aggression, he knew that this contract relied on them both acting like they were more interested in leaving tonight with a stranger than with each other. Damn, did Arnbjorn hate having to even act like he didn't want to tear that dress off his wife, and he gave an exposed stretch of her shapely leg one last, long stare before he looked away. Base desires would have to stay in his mind for once, like the wolf. Arnbjorn despised tonight already, and they'd been here no time.

All the better that they get the job done faster. Arnbjorn was glad to hear Astrid say she'd spotted the pair on the other side of the room. With the attack on his senses having resumed, Arnbjorn had a surprisingly tough time, for someone with his sharp eyesight, spotting the ones she was indicating, but a snarl of annoyance and another inspection of the far left wall brought him into the wolves' eyes. He didn't look like much - even if he did, Astrid would have no trouble tearing him apart when the time came. Arnbjorn couldn't say much about how easily the man would be to lure to the back for the killing, but no man with his penis intact was able to resist Astrid, least of all when she was dressed like she was right now - if she'd been rolling in dirt all day, she'd be irresistible, in Arnbjorn's opinion. She'd have no trouble. The wife was pretty obvious, too, once Arnbjorn located the male - she had looks, and she knew it, especially when she was hanging on the arm of a strange man. While she didn't look like much of a fighter, Arnbjorn had remembered that she was likely the more dangerous of the two from the contract - she was a fugitive who had killed several guards from Cyrodiil. She looked the type to be a surprising down. She wasn't going to have as much fortune against the Brotherhood and Sithis as with guards.

Arnbjorn's eyes cut to his wife. Here came the part of the night he would hate the most. Astrid was suited to showing off her beauty and luring a target away from one location to the next, but Arnbjorn was not. He did not know...how to be one of these influential, social men who drank watered-down mead at parties and flirted easily with women. Arnbjorn had never had the experience to keep up in a conversation with a woman like this one, between his time with the Companions, who lived to fight, and the Brotherhood, who lived to kill. But, he knew as beautiful as Astrid was, a woman wouldn't be as easily pulled away by her charms as a man. Arnbjorn growled lightly where he stood, rubbing his hands against his for once clean-shaven face. He'd have to make a move, even if he had an idea that it wouldn't go well. He was more suited to dragging his fool woman from the room by her neck and then stripping meat from the bone rather than offering to take her on his arm into a back room and strip her clothes off...but Arnbjorn could release the tension he'd feel later, when Astrid was more than willing to receive it. He dare not look at her again now, or he'd want to start releasing before the contract was done. "I'll work on it," Arnbjorn grumbled out, before straightening his shoulders and his gait and trotting off through the room, trying to look like he was interested in these rich morsels' lives. He even grabbed a wine off of a passing party tray, just to look like he filled in.

It was all part of the act, though. Arnbjorn, trying not to look too interested, passed near the woman's back as she laughed obnoxiously and flirted with the man she was attached to, making sure just to pick up her smell and hear if she was saying anything worth remembering. She wasn't, so he went on about his work. All Arnbjorn knew about the sexual nature of women had come from Astrid and a few poor encounters while he'd been a Companion, so he knew he was probably assuming too much to guess that rough physical contact was enough to get the attention of a woman drowning in money. He might as well try, though. He did try - passing by the woman almost unnervingly closely, he swiped his hand across her rear and, pretending to stumble past her, grabbed it just roughly enough to get her attention. Both she and the man turned to face him, her face full of surprise and the man's anger. Arnbjorn made sure to act drunk, though he barely knew how to, when he turned back to them and let his speech and stature wobble just slightly. "Ah...I'm srry as can bey." He stopped just long enough to look between his hand and the woman's ass and fix her with an aggressive gaze. "Not for the fee grab." Drinking down the wine in one gulp as he looked at her, Arnbjorn kept his eyes fixed on her and she did not hesistate to look at him right back, a faint smile appearing on her lips. He knew he'd had a good start as he inched his way to the wall and leaned on it in her line of sight, inviting her to make a move.