After the Hunt (Sam)

[Dymphna]

70th of Fall, 510 AV It had been five days since they’d returned from the Fall Hunt, and it had been a full five days since she’d had a chance to see Sam. Her family had kept her busy, and when they weren’t keeping her busy, she was working frantically to catch up on her work. Granted, no one expected her to do it, but Dymphna was not the type of girl to leave things she needed to do undone. Fall for an herbalist was a busy time, making sure the last of the summer and fall plants were dried, the bounty of game fat rendered, and various other things cared about. The next season would bring other jobs – Making soaps and ointments being her favorite. Something had happened during the hunt. Something very important… As a whole, of course, but specifically something between Sam and her. In turn, Dymphna felt the need to have a few days to really consider what was now transpiring. She found herself praying regularly to Cheva that she might sway her father’s thinking, because there was a lingering worry that she would be ripped away and forced to marry someone other than Sam. Though she was afraid to bring it up with anyone in her family, she was in love. Certainly they knew by the way the young woman mooned about, and likely someone who had been with the couple had clued them in. But still… It wasn’t her place to plan her own future in that manner. And she wasn’t about to bring about dishonor. So, as said, it had been a few days. Five long days. Five cold nights of poor sleep now that she was used to being in the company of the young Drykas man as he too slept. But after the fifth day she couldn’t take it any longer. She approached his little camp on the back of Dara. By this point in the season, she had started to wear the fitted coat over her dress and apron – beautiful cream wool that was soft against her skin and littered in embroidered knot work and tiny opals telling the story of her pavilion. Its cuffs and collar were lined with dark fur. Out of the wind, she’d likely not wear it all the time, but there was a touch of pride when she did wear it. Slowing, she looked for signs of any of the other men living with Sam, but she didn’t seem to find any. Both Dohaina and Horse were close, and so she thought it was a rather safe bet that Sam was about. She called out, “Sam?”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

If Sam had learned anything since the larger hunts he had been party to this season, it was that his skills at arms were woefully inadequate to protect his horses and himself, let alone a wife, children, and pavilion. But with Aiken and Denen away, he did not want to leave his camp untended to do target practice, which needed the most work. Instead he drilled with his scimitar, remembering forms that had been beaten into him as a young, young boy. Dohaina seemed uninterested in martial training that day, and so he was stripped down to the waist and laying about the air around him as if it were full of invisible foes. He swung a high, horizontal slash to deflect the blade of his imagined opponent, careful to catch even imagined blades on the flat of his scimitar rather than the edge as he had been taught for this form. His blade flashed in the sunlight as it came down to sever an overextended arm, but his balance was off just enough that he stumbled forward. A huff of frustration was swallowed by stuttering steps to regain his balance, wary of his unseen attacker. The scimitar kept the bogeyman at bay with a figure eight pattern before he found whatever opening his mind allowed him, and he managed a short diagonal slash that ended with a thrust. It was just then he noticed Dymphna approaching. His awareness of his surroundings seemed somewhat improved since Daed had begun to teach him about the Web, but sometimes he thought he was just imagining things. Then she called to him and he answered with a friendly halloo of his own. "Welcome to my humble camp!" Gods, but she was pretty. He immediately began with the dopey grin.

[Dymphna]

She had found him on her own, and she stood quietly at the edge of it all to take in what he was doing. On the Hunt, she’d not had much of a chance to sit back and admire him for what he was capable. She hadn’t been able to observe his facial expressions as he held his weapon nor the way the very top muscle in his shoulder moved when he thrusted forward at his attacker – Though this one invisible. Watching him, though, she decided perhaps she needed to practice with her sickles at some point. The goal was to use both of them, but it was a small miracle if she held onto one well enough when using them for anything other than cutting plants. Her mind then went to other things… The way his muscles felt under her hands. His skin against her palm. His breath. She bit her bottom lip, letting her eyes drop down to the cooled ground. Of course, she glanced up, and noting him looking at her she couldn’t help but give him a shy grin. “Hello.”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"You should come play with your sickle sometime," he said as if reading her thoughts, though, in fact, he could not. He had seen how her father handled one, however, and it had made enough of an impression upon him that he thought it would be rather a good idea to spar with her, even if she was not so skilled as her father. He might at some point need to know how to deflect a sickle or two with his scimitar. Her father was a formidable man, and a ginger, so who knew what might set off his fiery temper. His scimitar slipped around like a novice courtier closing a fan, and there was a pause as he found the mouth of his scabbard to slide it in. It hung from his hip, because he was not yet so skilled that he trusted it strapped to his back. Many an inept wielder of the scimitar had cut him- or herself or accidentally removed an ear with a hurried, sloppy draw of the blade. Stepping up to her, his hand on the pommel of the blade to keep it steady, he smiled up to where she sat atop Dara. He kissed his fingertips and rested them upon her hand, a simple show of the deep and abiding affection that had been growing in his heart for her all season. The awkward fumbling in tents was a part of being young and idiots, but this was something else. "I missed you," he said quietly, his voice a warm buzz of intimacy.

[Dymphna]

“I missed you, too,” she admitted, realizing at that exact moment exactly how much she had. She watched him kiss his fingers, her gaze falling with them to rest on her hand. A pleased little smile curved onto her lips as she squeezed his thumb. Then she twisted to dismount, giving a glance about before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’ve been very busy. I’m sorry… I came as soon as I could.” She looked down, pulling her coat open to show the sickle on her hip. An eyebrow lifted up as she returned her eyes to him and grinned, switching hips to show the other. “They were my mother’s. I don’t go anywhere without them. But first…” She kissed him again. This time more properly. Well, not more properly virtue-wise, but… Right. She kissed him yet, arms wrapping about his neck, and then she pulled back to grin at him like the moron she tended to turn into around him. “There we go,” she whispered.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"I know your pavilion needs you," he began, flushing at everything from words to implications to returned kisses. His arms were around her without thought, merely reacting to the instinct. To her. "Oh, of course..." He needed a little time to recuperate from her affections. "I know you always have them, but... sometime we should spar, I mean. That's what I'm saying." He wondered, though, if that wouldn't also devolve into fooling around. It was just that she was so pretty and she made his brain not work right.

[Dymphna]

She didn’t seem very intent on moving away from him. Standing so close to him made her a little weak in the knees, and despite the fact that she typically wasn’t fond of wild emotions, she was finding those that she had around Sam weren’t so bad. She kissed his chin after he spoke, brown eyes looking up at him as she did so. He wanted to spar with her. She wasn’t as good as him with her weapon, and in fact her brothers tended to make fun of her for her skill. Still, there was the chance that it would result in her and Sam fooling around more… Actually, she sort of hoped that would happen. And so she grinned a little and asked quietly, “Now? Or do you want to do something else?”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"I suppose now," he said, a little grin smoldering to life. He didn't look anxious to move away from her either. "Unless you would rather wrestle... I mean, um... Winner gets a kiss?" His mouth fell open into a vulpine grin, self-deprecating even in his rather innocent wickedness. "I mean, we could do it later. I'm sure you didn't come to visit just so we could play swords. Or... well, whatever you want to do, Dymphna." The thin sheen of clean, honest perspiration caused gooseflesh when a gust of wind picked up, and he shivered. It had, of course, nothing to do with proximity to Dymphna. "How is your family?" he asked dutifully; he liked Daed and Kita and those others he had met, but it was difficult to focus too much on them with Dymphna right there.

[Dymphna]

Her nose wrinkled up and she let out a giggle in response to him. Staying close, she swayed one way and then another. Then unexpectedly she swooped in to bite his bottom lip, brown eyes lifting the little bit to peer into his. She pulled back before kissing him again, grinning. Yeah, they were going to accomplish a lot in life at this rate. “We can do whatever you want, Sam,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to see you and get to spend time with you. I’m not picky as long as the activity involves you…” She felt the tiny bumps on his arm, fingertips pressing to try to push them back into his skin before her hand rubbed to warm him up. “My family is well. Kita lost her first tooth. She made me pull it for her, and then she screamed and hit me afterward.”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Blushing slightly, he ducked his head for a moment before giggling like a little boy. "Well, which finger? I'd be upset if you stuck your penis in my mouth, too."

OOCOMG, *dies*