I heard someone come into the war room, and I scuttled under the heavy table, taking my manuscript and quill with me. As I huddled while trying very hard to be quiet, I saw ink spots on the carpet. Oh crud. I hope no one noticed or Kana would soon have me by the collar, dragging me off to read whatever boring reports and contracts waited dustily on my desk. Not to mention that the carpet had probably cost me enough gold to buy many pretty shiny gems for enchanting.
A pair of boots walked into my line of vision, and Bishop bent over and picked up the ink pot, which until then had been sitting out there, by its lonesome, inky self. Our eyes met and he lifted a quizzical eyebrow. Oh crap. But then again, he was the least likely to give me away to Kana. Maybe. He might have if he thought it would be amusing enough.
"Here I was, on yet another boring sunny day, hoping I could find a paladin to goad. Instead, I find where our dear Captain is spending her afternoons. How…unexpected."
I heard Kana's voice, far too close for comfort. "Captain? Is she around?" Before he could react, I pulled him down. He fell over with a surprised grunt, spilling the entire ink pot, and I clapped my hand over his mouth, attempting to edge both of us under the cover of the table. From the doorway, no one could see us, but if they actually came into the room…
"Strange. I thought I heard someone calling the Captain. I must be imagining things." I heaved a sigh of relief as I heard her walk away.
"Now look what you've done to my shirt!" he hissed in an annoyed whisper, rubbing at the ink spatters futilely. I considered telling him that it was just making the ink soak through very thoroughly, but decided against it.
"Look what you've done to my carpet! I ought to charge for these things! And now I've got to find somewhere else to hide!"
He regarded me with that snide smile, and then wiped his ink-stained hand on my shirt. I squealed, and then remembered that I was so supposed to be hiding. I knocked his hand away, and he reached out an inky fingertip and touched my nose. When I opened my mouth to scream, he put a finger to his lips and pointed in Kana's general direction with his other hand. His lips curved in a wicked smile, and he winked, slowly and deliberately.
This is war!
I wiped the ink pot with my fingers, scraping up all that was left, and attacked. After a few minutes, during which I nearly choked trying not to make any noise, we both ended the struggle by mutual unspoken consent. He looked terrible, streaks of ink crossing his face and neck haphazardly. It looked like war paint. Sort of. The artist would need to be having a seizure and be more than a little demented to begin with. I didn't think that I emerged as the winner in this little fracas though.
He held up my hand in front of my face. "Someone needs to cut her fingernails. And change your ink! This stuff stings."
"Well, generally I don't go rubbing it into open wounds." He snorted loudly, and I traced a smiley face on a relatively clean part of his neck. "Here's the hair," a jaggedy line to show how messy it was, "Here's the whole face, and the ears, then eyes and mouth. Oh dear. I didn't leave enough space for your nose. Never mind, fortunately, you've already got one." I reached up and tweaked it, making sure to leave liberal amounts of ink.
He couldn't help laughing quietly then, and he sounded so carefree, with no trace of his usual bitterness. When he finally stopped, he asked wryly, "So what has you holed up here everyday?"
I waved my notes around, and he rolled his eyes. "Finger painting with ink? I know you had a deprived childhood, but this is really stretching it."
"I'll have you know that until you came in and decided that the world needed more black in its repertoire, this was perfectly a good manuscript about our epic adventure. I was just getting to the exciting bits!"
"Oh?" it was amazing how much meaning he inject into a single syllable.
"The part where you jump Casavir, holy paladin of Tyr!"
"What?" The look on his face was priceless. "Please tell me that you mean I was about to kill him. Or slice off little bits, at least."
I savoured his horrified expression as I told him exactly what I had in mind, "Nope, you were stripping off his armour while he was cutting you out of yours. And then you were going to snog! Extended exchange of saliva! Much manly love!"
He gave me a taste of my own medicine then, covering my mouth with his inky palm before I could continue. "You are so completely insane that it's a wonder how that paladin still keeps mooning over you."
"Says he who stabs people for fun," I mumbled into his hand.
"It is fun. Let me stress that. Stabbing people is fun. Goading the paladin is fun. Writing explicit stories about the paladin and I is not fun."
"Would you prefer that I make you hit on and hump everything that moves? …… Oh wait, you already do that, both in real life and the story. Forget I said anything."
"You are such a corrupted little girl. I daresay I'm still worse than you, but I had an eight-year head start. And I don't hit on everything; just everyone attractive."
"Any gender and/or species will do?"
"Females only, darling. And it seems I haven't been paying you enough attention, or you wouldn't have enough time to be writing such naughty things." His voice was seductively low now, and he released his hold on my mouth, only to pull me closer so that he could nuzzle my neck. His lips traveled from there, to the line of my jaw, and thence to my own mouth, brushing against my skin with a touch as light as a butterfly's wings.
He drew back then, smirking. "The wordsmith finds herself at a sudden loss? How bizarre," Leaning in closer, he breathed, "You're a lousy kisser, for someone with such an…active imagination."
He really knew how to stir people into action, I'll give him that. Lousy kisser? I'll show him! He kissed me again, very softly at first, and then harder, his tongue teasing mine as my lips parted. He tasted vaguely of ink, and I hoped that it wasn't poisonous. Yep, definitely time to get Sand to concoct a non-toxic variety.
He was pressing his whole body against me, and I remembered that he was deliciously, leanly muscular. I opened my eyes briefly, only to discover that he looked very weird so close up. To be fair, even my warm and familiar blankie looked very strange when it was less than an inch from my eyes.
Shandra's voice knocked both of us out of whatever what we had been in. "So. Er. I think that I really don't want to know."
"No. You really don't." his typical sneer reappeared from nowhere.
She shot me a look that promised an interrogation when we were alone, and walked off. I heard a clank of plate mail, and groaned audibly. With a clatter, Casavir bent over and beheld what could possibly qualify as the strangest sight he had ever laid eyes on. His piercing blue eyes met mine, and his face contorted in an expression which could be surmised in a single syllable: "Huh?"
I knew I was blushing furiously, but I doubted that anyone could see it under the ink anyway. Bishop was smirking so widely that I thought he would unhinge his jaw if he tried any harder. His hand tangled in my hair as he sank into another long, deep, pointed kiss.
There was a hasty jangle as Casavir straightened up, and judging by the muffled grunt, bumped something hard on the way up. Bishop finally let me go, with a self-satisfied smirk, which I decided would be typically described as "cat which swallowed the canary".
He snatched my manuscript and slid out from under the table before I could grab him, and handed it to the paladin. "For the love of all that is holy to you, burn this." He then sauntered off, seemingly unbothered by his appearance.
Casavir was just standing there, a bemused expression on his normally neutral face. I felt more than a little guilty, but I took the manuscript back from his unresisting hand. "Do I want to know what's in there?"
I blushed again. What seemed like harmless play with Bishop would probably strike my staid follower with apoplexy. "No—you don't. Trust me on this."
He smiled faintly. "I always do, my lady. I shall have a bath drawn for you." He turned away, and hesitated. "My lady, allow me to be blunt. He is…unreliable. And he is just pushing you as far as you will allow him to go. Be careful."
Casavir was more observant than Bishop gave him credit for.
I ducked my head to avoid those sharp blue eyes. "I will. Thanks for looking out for me. Anyway, I'm going to get cleaned up. And could you please, please distract Kana while I run to the bathroom?"
He bowed. "Ever at your service, my lady." That faint smile still lingered as he walked out.
I listened carefully, and sprinted out when I judged that the coast was clear. It was indeed. Milil bless Casavir! Or Tyr. I guess he would prefer Tyr's blessings.
That night
"So, how was it?" Shandra grinned slyly as she asked.
"How was what?"
"Don't try to pretend that nothing happened. If you want me to spell it out, I will." She raised her voice. "I was just inquiring as to how was our lovely Lady-Captain's first kiss!!" Her strident voice echoed off the Keep's stone walls, and she snickered when she saw me cringe.
"Shhh!" I was blushing again, and cursing myself for it. "It was okay, I guess. Undignified, and kissing involves way too much saliva for my liking."
She gave me an incredulous look, then threw her head back and laughed.
If I had more ink, I would have thrown it at her.
