Dalavesta Stalinsa
60th Spring 522 AV – Tent City – Ves’ Place
Darkness rippled and light slowly, and painfully, pierced her eyelids strongly enough that she had little choice but to open them, groaning slightly as the intensity grew and matched what could only be a hangover. Her head raised slightly, only to get a pounding throb, and then fell back onto the sheepskins with a further throbbing ache. She groaned once more, her hand reaching out for a bottle that would provide a good amount of hair of the dog, but instead found warm, soft flesh. She froze, eyes widening and nostrils flaring as her vision cleared rapidly and focused upon the struts of the pavilion tent above her. She slowly, gently explored what was laying next to her, nuzzled into her shoulder she realised, and blinked as memory cascaded through her mind, causing another sharp inhale of breath and a slight shake of the head.
No…nonono…that can’t be real…it’d be too…good…oh gods I hope she doesn’t smack me one…please not anger, it’d be too much were the panicked and desperate thoughts running through her mind as she withdrew her hand slowly, rolling to face the one sharing her bed.
Gently she raised the woollen blankets to get a good, long look at her latest tumble and gods did it send a pulse to her nethers at just the remembrance, and future thought, of that delicious woman that had shared herself willingly with her. She bit her bottom lip as the memories continued to flood through her mind and for the first time in a while there were the dots of tears at the corners of her eyes – happy tears – and she thanked all of the gods of light that they had smiled upon her for once. She leant forwards, taking in Bron’s sent for a while before planting her lips in a soft kiss upon the woman’s forehead. Shifting sideways she pulled another blanket around her shoulders too barely cover herself, then set about getting the fire underneath the brazier going once more.
It was easier since the embers still remained from the previous evening’s loveliness, her breath setting them glowing with steady, even exhalations after placing kindling upon the top of them. She spent some time bent over, face to the hessian ground mat, getting it flaming before she added one of the last logs she had left from her casual work at the lumber yard to generate true heat for the cooking pot and kettle that shared the fire. Once it was war enough, she dolloped some butter into the pot and added slices of bacon, diced lamb, onions and mushrooms to begin sizzling softly. She found two cups underneath the edge of the bed of sheepskins and put pinches of tea leaves into them, there to await the water once it was boiled in the kettle.
As she worked her gaze kept darting to her lover of the previous night, not quite believing any of it had happened. She wasn’t sure what gods she had pleased lately but as she watched the relaxed, softened features of her old friend, realising she was now perhaps more than that, she had the flickering of hope that had long since died, and felt the aching fear of its small return, half expecting it to be crushed along with herself.
Darkness rippled and light slowly, and painfully, pierced her eyelids strongly enough that she had little choice but to open them, groaning slightly as the intensity grew and matched what could only be a hangover. Her head raised slightly, only to get a pounding throb, and then fell back onto the sheepskins with a further throbbing ache. She groaned once more, her hand reaching out for a bottle that would provide a good amount of hair of the dog, but instead found warm, soft flesh. She froze, eyes widening and nostrils flaring as her vision cleared rapidly and focused upon the struts of the pavilion tent above her. She slowly, gently explored what was laying next to her, nuzzled into her shoulder she realised, and blinked as memory cascaded through her mind, causing another sharp inhale of breath and a slight shake of the head.
No…nonono…that can’t be real…it’d be too…good…oh gods I hope she doesn’t smack me one…please not anger, it’d be too much were the panicked and desperate thoughts running through her mind as she withdrew her hand slowly, rolling to face the one sharing her bed.
Gently she raised the woollen blankets to get a good, long look at her latest tumble and gods did it send a pulse to her nethers at just the remembrance, and future thought, of that delicious woman that had shared herself willingly with her. She bit her bottom lip as the memories continued to flood through her mind and for the first time in a while there were the dots of tears at the corners of her eyes – happy tears – and she thanked all of the gods of light that they had smiled upon her for once. She leant forwards, taking in Bron’s sent for a while before planting her lips in a soft kiss upon the woman’s forehead. Shifting sideways she pulled another blanket around her shoulders too barely cover herself, then set about getting the fire underneath the brazier going once more.
It was easier since the embers still remained from the previous evening’s loveliness, her breath setting them glowing with steady, even exhalations after placing kindling upon the top of them. She spent some time bent over, face to the hessian ground mat, getting it flaming before she added one of the last logs she had left from her casual work at the lumber yard to generate true heat for the cooking pot and kettle that shared the fire. Once it was war enough, she dolloped some butter into the pot and added slices of bacon, diced lamb, onions and mushrooms to begin sizzling softly. She found two cups underneath the edge of the bed of sheepskins and put pinches of tea leaves into them, there to await the water once it was boiled in the kettle.
As she worked her gaze kept darting to her lover of the previous night, not quite believing any of it had happened. She wasn’t sure what gods she had pleased lately but as she watched the relaxed, softened features of her old friend, realising she was now perhaps more than that, she had the flickering of hope that had long since died, and felt the aching fear of its small return, half expecting it to be crushed along with herself.
