Completed The Tent Dancer

[Fallan Windchaser]

Fallan

Fallan picked up his beaker and finished the wine and nodded to her, "Taylani not drinking."

She was now as intoxicating as the wine as she leant a little into him. He leaned closer as well so that his voice was pitched lower.

"Your daughters," he replied, once more copying her words and attempting to incorporate them into his memory. "Your daughters Drykas. Not captive, not sold. No chains. Free women." Of course if she went back to Syrilas then she would not see that, would miss her children growing up, and it was one more thing that he counted on to keep her here.

"Just body?" He sounded a little disappointed. "That all Taylani want? Be used for body?" He cupped her breast again, this time a little more firmly and he rubbed his thumb softly around the nipple, continuing to do so as he watched her eyes.

"Taylani not want Drykas, be free soon, not wait till leave?" He moved in closer until he could feel her breath on his cheek, the position somewhat awkward, so he twisted and reached around with his right hand, pushing aside the hair that tumbled and running across her back.

He pulled her in and kissed her. "This all Taylani want?" He kissed her again, sliding his left hand around her ribs and pulling her into him, his lips lingering on hers and then forcing them open to kiss more deeply.

[Taylani]

Shaking her head, the spray of her red hair fanning behind her with the motion. Already it was hard to think, though she suspected that was not so much the wine but him. The anxiety was still there but it was muted, beneath a cloud of fuzziness that was yes a little the wine but also beneath the cloud of confusion and something else, something unfamiliar and warm. Something that started deep within her body.

"Not mine." She whispers adamantly, her hand still raised from grazing his cheek moved, almost gently brushing a thick strand of dark hair behind his ear marveling a little by how much easier it seemed to touch him. "Never mine. Only yours." This she repeated, trying to erase the images he brought forth of red headed girl children, with darker skin and eyes from her mind. Trying to harden her heart and mind against his words and actions. Her hand falls to his shoulder now, feeling the corded muscles beneath the fabric, her fingers tightening on him as his hand found her breast again.

Her traitorous body betraying her as she reacts to his touch, a swift inhalation and her eyes fluttering for a moment, forcing some of the retained moisture at the corners release down her cheek nothing dramatic, just a solitary tear making a way down her cheek. Before her mind could quite grasp what he was saying, the fuzziness that was present before seeming to expand slightly, she was drawn closer, her body now pressing at length against his. Her softer curves against his hard lines, one hand still at his shoulder, the other raised as he pulled, being trapped flat against his chest between their bodies. The hand against his chest could feel the thudding of his heart, matching her own rapid fluttering of her heart. Her eyes remain wide as his kisses her, then again, a soft sound raising from her throat, muffled by his lips. Her lips part under his assault, at first simply accepting the kiss but after a moment her tongue raises, hesitantly and softly to meet his. The first real taste of him, a taste that was both sweet and tangy broke the spell and Taylani drags her mouth from his with a quiet gasp.

"I don't understand." She speaks in a voice that was hoarse, her fingers still splayed against his chest, but the other sliding down his arm slowly. "You don't understand." The last is said as she finally raises her gaze to his eyes, fear and anxiety but also pain living in the reddened blue orbs. "I do not have the strength to offer more."

[Fallan Windchaser]

Fallan

He'd expected her to attempt to push him away, he certainly expected her to stiffen and attempt to avoid him, but he'd been prepared for that, his control etched away by the tear that trickled down her cheek, the moisture that created a fantasy in his mind about forcing her shoulders back onto the bed roll that she had so conveniently sat next to and pinning her to the ground.

Geared up for the resistance and the desire to smash his way through it, he'd been unprepared for the fact that it didn't come, the excuse that he needed to justify the act never presented. His unplanned yet desired assault was foiled before it was begun and he needed to circle round to come in on a fresh line.

Her defence was unexpected and he allowed her the space to speak, his arms though remaining about her body, a body unexpectedly firm and toned for a city dweller. He forced aside his desires, pushed aside the image of her pinned against the bedroll, her eyes widening, his hand around her throat, choking back the protests and resumed his previous distraction. He cast his mind back once more to the memories of his visit to Syrilas.

"Perhaps Taylani right. Syrila god dead. Not protect people." How odd it seemed, that the tie between people and their gods could be so weak. It was true enough that the Drykas were fluid in their worship, but the link was still there and strong. He could not begin to explain in this time the difference in view for his people.

"Semele see Taylani, lost in rock of city. Zulrav guide Drykas to Taylani. Zulrav bring Fallan to Endrykas." As he spoke, Fallan felt the truth of the words in his mind. "Semele know Zulrav can set free heart of Taylani, blow across plains like a storm." He smiled and kissed her again softly. "Gods bring Taylani and Fallan. Zulrav give Taylani strength."

[Taylani]

His arms around her body at once felt constricting but warm, his hands burning imprints into her back even through the layers of clothing. Taylani was intimately aware of the press of their upper bodies, and it was a distraction that caused it hard for her to think. Never had anyone dared to touch her the way he has, or hold her in such a fashion, this thought giving her back just a little of her outrage and injustice but not as much as she needed or wanted.

Enough to give her a gentle fire in her eyes, that was tempered by his speech, enough to give her balance to keep from collapsing against him. However his gentle kiss, his smile that caused his gray eyes to crinkle just lightly around the edges caused her to look away, turn her face away from him, and let her red hair curtain her from him. This gentle, sweet approach he was taking was making it difficult to remember what a monster he and his people were. She had no doubts that after, after this was completed she would remember and experience that side of him. She did not want to lose sight of that.

When she speaks, her words are low, and her hands one still laying against him flat, and the other on now his the crook of his elbow tighten slightly. "Gods are not dead. Just spiteful and petty." Her hand that was laying against his elbow raises to wipe the last remaining wet streak that was left by her tear. It is with a soft voice that does not tremble, her face still turned away from his "Please don't make me do this. Gods or no, brought together for some reason or not, please do not force this from me." She says the words simply because she realized that she had fought and been hard through out their time, that she had not simply asked him not to.

[Fallan Windchaser]

Fallan

Her words made him frown slightly in puzzlement as he worked them through in his mind. He could understand what she said on the whole, or enough of it to grasp the sense of her words; it was for him that the words escaped from the tip of his tongue like chaff in a strong wind. Of course the gods weren't dead, well most of them anyway, but no one could deny that Sylir was as dead as it was possible for a god to be.

Something had clearly gone amiss in between what he'd said and her reply, but quite what was beyond him. More importantly she seemed to be rejecting that approach, which he realised on reflection might be expected from a city built in honour of the dead god.

She had ducked her head, hiding behind the waterfall of red hair and he realised that there was an opportunity to take advantage of her distraction. What she asked was impossible for him to give, perhaps not impossible, but it was not something that he was prepared to concede.

He shifted his weight back a little, pulling his left hand back to take his weight whilst he brought his legs around to the right and folding up beside him. Then he moved forward, brushing aside the hand that blocked him, his right hand pushing aside the hair, gently pushing it back over her shoulder. He slipped inside her grip, their bodies tight together, her breast crushed against him in a hold that was light yet brooked no release.

"Not choice, not displease gods." He doubted that she would allow the blame for this to rest with the gods, but it was worth the attempt to divert it away from him if just for the moment.

He'd danced with her enough, it was time for the tune to change and for him to lead once more. He ducked his head to kiss her once more, pulling her in tighter and then used his new advantage of height to topple her over and onto the bedding, his lips pushing her back, his arms cushioning her against the soft impact.

[Taylani]

She doesn't notice his confusion, her own thoughts on simply controlling her breathing and trying to sort her own thoughts. Gods for her were there, but perhaps because she did grow up in a city devoted to a dead god she treated them all the same. Some distant beings that had no care for her or her kind. She had never felt anything from any supreme beings, neither pleasure or displeasure, it was only recently that she had decided that they if they were involved then they had to be petty and cruel. Either uninvolved and uncaring, or involved and malicious. No matter which position one took, she was on her own.

When his left arm left her, and he shifted she had a moment of hope that her plea had been heard. Then his arms came around her again, her hand swept away easily as he pressed her to him, a tiny sound emitting from surprise in her throat. Her hands lay at first lightly on his shoulder, and as his hand pushed her protective curtain of hair away from her face her eyes meet his. Her chest heaves as she pulls in one breath after the other, hitching only occasionally.

"Plea--" Her murmured plea was cut off as his lips found hers, her own lips parted already in mid-word, her body resisting only a little as he presses her back. Squirming beneath him, trapped between his arms and his body, her hands pushing instinctively against his shoulders before she forces them to stop. A tiny noise of defeat is caught against his lips, even as she bucks once, then twice in a weak effort to dislodge him from on top of her before she quietens down. After her feeble attempts to slow, or stop this, Taylani lays beneath him, not fighting his kiss, but certainly not encouraging it either. A mix of dread and something else, something that she could not define but knew that the slow tightening in her body was the product of it, filled her heart and caused it to thud irregularly.

[Fallan Windchaser]

Fallan

Her attempt to fight him, although expected, excited him too and his heart beat drummed quickly in his ears. The wriggling of her body reminded him of the strength that lay there. She could have fought harder he knew, and now she lay quiet.

He kissed her again, his lips forceful against hers, the kiss extended beyond what a mere breath could hold, his lips forcing hers apart and the seal tight. His weight remained on her, a reminder, a foretaste of what was to come.

Yet, they were still dressed. Not yet had had the body which remained relatively concealed underneath the dress been revealed. He knew the shape and feel of her breasts, but still there remained much to be discovered even there. He broke the kiss and took his weight upon his elbows so that there was contact and pressure but nothing more.

He looked down into her blue eyes and smiled questioningly. "Take this? Force this?" He brushed the hair away from her face, his fingertips brushing softly across her forehead. "Taylani promise give this. No?" She had made a bargain and now sought to extract herself from it, it seemed.

It was true that she had not promised when or how. Nor agreed whether it was to be willingly or by force, but agreed she had. This promised to hold the pleasure that had been removed when she agreed to the bargain. Now her word bound her in a way that surely she had not imagined at the time. He could always force her, but how much more pleasure in stripping away her resistance one piece at the time by using her own promise against her?

[Taylani]

As his lips pressed against hers, forcing her lips to part beneath his, a portent of the strength he held and the power that he wielded over her. The power in his kiss sapping her strength little by little, and when breath was strained, her nostrils flaring lightly as she dragged in a burning breath. When he finally raised, her eye lids fluttered for a moment before opening, allowing her eyes to focus up on his. Her hair mussed and pooling beneath her head, her lips swollen slightly from his kiss parting to allow strained breathing.

His hard body pressing against hers, pressing her back into the bedroll, unyielding and strong, trapping her beneath yet the traitor within found a seed of pleasure. That realization, that there was some part of her body that was heating and found him attractive, drives a soft cry from her lips even as she closes her eyes against his words. She had been forced to agree to this, as surely as if he had held a weapon to her neck. Had he not told her that there was nothing she could do to stop her fate? Yet she had given him her word, in exchange for his, and if she backed out then she might never get a chance to be anything other then a mother to Drykas babes.

So it was, she returned her gaze to his, and raises a visibly shaking hand her face contorting only once as she fought back a tremor before smoothing once again. Her hand is laid gently against the side of his neck, her fingers curving to cup his upper neck and cheek, her thumb laying against the corner of his mouth. A choked word is uttered, "Yes." before she turns her head to the side, not hiding her face from him, but no longer gazing up at him, more to the side at the wall of the tent.

[Fallan Windchaser]

Fallan

Her submission was reluctant and still she seemed to think that he would then just take what was offered.

"Good," he whispered, the word soft in her ear as she turned from him. His skin still tingled from the gentle touch of her hand and he took a moment to breath and wonder anew that she was here with him, her body defenceless should he choose to take what his was his by right.

He'd pulled tight on the lunge line and now it was time to loosen it off once more, allowing her to move at her own pace. Shifting his weight to his right elbow and removing most of his weight from her he stroked his left hand down her forehead and followed down the the hairline by touch before stoking gently along the line of her neck. Just as he would groom a young filly to accustom her to the touch of a human hand, so stage by stage he worked to reduce the fight or flight response and instead allow her trust of him to grow. Of course being human he could talk to her and that accelerated the process from days into minutes and hours.

He was curious as to her reactions now for this was new ground for him and he had only instinct to guide him. His hand moved down slowly to her breast once more, to cup and tease it before he leant in and started to kiss the exposed side of the throat.

"Come," he commanded shifting off her and waving her move. "Lie here," he patted the bedding. "Soft." He moved to gather the two beakers, refilling hers and offering it to her before filling his own once more with the wine.

[Taylani]

She had half expected, and if she were honest with herself hoped, that he would indeed take what he wanted. If he had simply did that, then it would save her mental anguish and confusion that the softer touches generated. It was the softer touches, the gentle kisses, and the whispered words that stirred the fires in her belly, that caused her body to react to his, she was sure of it. Surely it was not the threat, the physical prowess, or the man himself that caused her to respond, surely not.

When his hand caressed her, she flinches as if away from a hot stove a jerking reaction that was at once minute but visible. Her breathing hitches as his fingers caress her sensitive neck, her eyes closing in hopes to push back the heady feeling that his touch invoked. His whisper in her ear caused a shiver to run through her, as his breath slid over her ear her body tensing against the onslaught of emotions, and sensations.

It took all of her self control to lay still beneath his gaze, even though his shifting gave her room to move if she wanted. Instead she steadfastly kept her eyes closed, her fingers clenching into fists, but not to strike him. Instead her arms continue to lay where they were, one against his shoulder supporting the hand that had caressed his face and neck, the other resting against his chest, again not fighting him but not stroking or touching.

When his hand moved down to her breast once more, her back straightens, stiffens almost and a whimper is driven from her throat as he kisses her neck. The sound of the whimper causing her throat to vibrate against his lips, even as her pulse goes from simply fluttering to pounding. Then he was gone once again, and once again she was disoriented and confused.

Her head spinning, not from drink but from sheer inability to keep up with the situation, Taylani raises as he gestures on her elbows, then turns to her side to drag herself over. Though her movements are stunted, Taylani needing to exert all the control as she could over her limbs causing her to move with a stiff reluctant motion, she could not help the gentle sway to her hips as she crawled more fully onto the bedroll, though she does not lie down. Instead she sits, her legs crossed and folded in front of her.

When he hands the beaker of wine back to her, she does not raise her gaze. Instead she takes the liquid, and with a deep breath preparing herself, knowing now the strength and taste of it she takes a deep drink. The liquid splashes into her mouth, and then down her throat, burning a little, the bitterness of the taste causing her mouth to contort once more before she pushes the empty beaker away from her. One hand raising to wipe the back of her hand against her lips, fighting to keep the sudden onslaught of drink down before straightening. Silently willing the drink to take effect quickly, and with as much force as possible she finally drags her eyes up.

Idly, one hand raises to the buttons that line the front of her dress, not unbuttoning but toying, more to give her fingers and hands something to do. Silently she watches him, suspicion, fear and something else, something that was above all else to be ignored, denied, and fought down, desire fighting for dominance in her eyes.