Title: Secrets and Burdens
Rating: R for mature themes.
Summary: Rosethorn and Briar come together and Lark knows.
Pairings: Briar/Rosethorn, implied Lark/Sandry and wishful Lark/Rosethorn.
A/N: This was just a little plot bunny. I'm screwing with the timeline; as Circle Opens hasn't yet been completed, nor have the four reunited, I'm saying that Circle Opens never happened, as I'd need to know more. No more stories in this universe are forthcoming; this was written in ten flat and is not intended to have any sequels or anything.
"Are you sure?"
"We have to," Rosethorn replied snappishly back. "The Council has decreed-" and incredible amount of sarcasm in her voice that only Rosethorn could manage "-that you and I must be bonded before we leave, remember?"
"Yeah, sorry," Briar mumbled, half-hurt. Rosethorn shut her eyes.
"I'm sorry, boy," she said, gentler. "But...well...to think of you as the son I never had, and to be told we have to do this...well...."
"Yeah, I know," Briar quickly filled in. Then he smirked unrepentantly. "'Course, it could be worse. We could be Lark and Sandry!"
Rosethorn bit her lip at that, an anguished expression flashing across her face, and Briar sighed quietly. "You should tell her how you feel," he murmured to Rosethorn quietly. She flinched minutely.
"Yes. I should."
"Because I know she feels the same way about you," Briar continued doggedly.
"Yes, I too have no suspicions. Now. On to the matter at hand. How much experience do you have, boy?" she asked him easily, shifting in her chair, he at her feet.
He blushed. "Some," he defended himself easily. To her raised eyebrow he amended, "Rosethorn! I'm seventeen! You think I wanna be a monk or something?!"
"No," she said dryly, "but that's a whole different matter."
"How much experience do you have?" he asked her, half-joking. She, in turn, blushed.
"Rosethorn!"
"I'm forty-five, boy," she reminded him archly. "I haven't been a dedicate all my life, nor pledged to a temple."
Briar cocked his head. "The temple forbids dedicate-dedicate pairings?"
Rosethorn waggled her hand. "To a degree. However, Moonstream permits them, from time to time, if both members' feelings are true."
"What about us?"
"We, my buck, are going into an extremely dangerous situation. The Council wants us as unified, mind, soul, and body, as is humanly possible. Eight great mages, linked in pairs, with you four being as you are? The possibilities are endless."
"Ah," Briar said quietly. There was an awkward silence for a few moments, until Rosethorn stood, hauling Briar to his feet with her. They were close, nose to nose-and she kissed him, sweetly, lightly, before his tongue demanded entrance at her lips. Smiling, she let him in, then gasped into his mouth as he picked her up and cradled her in his arms and walked over to the bed.
Their trust and intimacy were astounding-Briar didn't hold it against Rosethorn that she imagined Lark with her. It was a night of new discoveries for both of them, and of a physical and mental joining so intense it would have been painful had it not been so sweet.
And across the temple, where Lark was weaving, solitary, at her loom, with Sandry next to her, she stiffened.
Pain and jealousy radiated from her, Sandry keeping her silence at her teacher's abrupt change of mood. They had come together earlier, and found solace in the loom. Sandry knew Lark's feelings for Rosethorn, as Lark had called Rosethorn the first time they had joined themselves. And Sandry knew, with a prescient feeling, that this meant that Briar and Rosethorn had come together themselves.
And Lark burned.