Page 2 of 2Shrunken Shirt
Rosethorn stormed into Lark's workroom, the skirts of her habit slashing through the air with audible 'crack's. Lark was barely able to glance up from her loom before the plant mage spoke in a growl.
"My favorite shirt has just shrunk and it's due to your temper!" Rosethorn stated testily, holding up a small, white silk shirt looking about the size a toddler might wear.
"And yet you're the one stampeding in here with a face as red as one of your famous tomatoes," Lark retorted with a mock sneer, though she could not hide the sparkle in her eyes.
"I've got every right to! I'm going to Summersea in a little more than a week and suddenly half of my outfit is small enough to fit a child," she snarled, glaring. It was at that point that she noticed the sparkle in the thread mage's eyes and replayed the amusement that had been in her voice. Puzzled but still angered, Rosethorn raised both eyebrows and tapped a foot impatiently. "What's so humorous?"
"Well, you, for one thing. But also that you figured I shrank your shirt accidentally. I will repair your shirt," Lark replied steadily and smiled, rising gracefully and walking to the door. As she closed it she heard Rosethorn speak.
"What's going on? My shirt is unusable and now you tell me it's intentional. Speak, woman," the smaller woman ordered impatiently. She crossed her arms, the shirt still tucked into one fist. Her foot continued tapping.
Lark walked to her impatient visitor, her smile transforming into a lustful grin. She placed a gentle hand on Rosethorn's and urged, "Pass me that lovely shirt of yours, love?"
Rosethorn nodded skeptically, one eyebrow still highly arched. She gazed up into the eyes of the thread mage, attempting to gauge if this was one of Lark's many plans to get them together for alone time.
The thread mage left Rosethorn to her pondering. Lark looked down at the shirt she had taken from her visitor's hand. The fine silk thread that made up the cloth called to Lark, telling her of their itch to go back to the size they were most accustomed to. After all, they added, you were the one that spun and wove us the way we were before
Lark chuckled at that and apologized through her magic as she steadied herself, following the meditation breathing exercise. After she was stable, she looked at the cloth with her Magic's eyes. With her magical self, she pulled gently at each thread, working gently with her magic shaped into two nimble, gentle hands.
When at last she saw that the shirt was back to it's normal size, Lark sighed contently. She couldn't help but blush, thinking of where the shirt rested on Rosethorn and how the threads must feel against her creamy skin. With that thought the thread mage blinked and stretched, groaning slightly at the complaints of her muscles. When she placed the shirt over her arm and looked around, she saw that Rosethorn sat in the chair near the loom, toying with her habit and looking straight at Lark.
That's funny, how long have I been working? Lark thought, walking on stiff legs to the other woman. Lark put the shirt in Rosethorn's lap.
"How long was I out?" Lark asked with a nervous laugh, leaning against a stable part of the loom. She looked to Rosethorn and noticed that her cheeks were slightly colored. Lark couldn't help but wonder what the plant mage was thinking about.
"About forty-five minutes. The Hub clock just announced that it's rest period. Thanks for mending my shirt," Rosethorn replied, crossing her legs and leaning back against the chair back. In doing so, her habit rode down and showed the stretch of skin around her neck and collarbone. Lark wanted so much to caress and spoil the area with kisses that she trembled with the effort of stopping herself. Rosethorn arched a delicate brow and looked Lark in the eye, asking suddenly, "Was this another of your schemes?"
"Is it wrong for a woman to want to spend some time with her love?" Lark replied with an impish smirk and walked to the smaller woman. The thread mage offered a hand.
Rosethorn took the hand and Lark helped her up, then brought the hand to her mouth and kissed Rosethorn's knuckles lightly. It wasn't so much of a kiss, rather Lark's lips brushing softly against Rosethorn's skin. She colored deeply and placed her free hand on the willowy woman's hip.
Lark leaned down slowly and kissed Rosethorn squarely on her full, pink lips. Rosethorn laced her fingers with Lark's on their touching hands and began to pull lightly towards the door, eyes a sparkle.
As the two walked towards the door Rosethorn couldn't help but ask, "Why did you go through with this whole scheme when you knew rest period was coming up, anyway?"
The thread mage smiled at her companion's curiosity before replying, "You know as well as I that had I not made you come, you would have worked in that garden of yours right through rest period without even coming in for a drink. I'm jealous of your plants and how you care for them so."
Rosethorn colored again and looked down to hide a sheepish grin. She rested her head on the taller woman's shoulder. "Well, then. Since you've gone through all the trouble, I'll care for you in just the way you like through rest period and beyond. We can even stargaze on the roof tonight before the midnight service. How does that sound?"
"Like the best gift anyone could give!" Lark exclaimed giddily, barely controlling the urge to skip or at least sing out in joy. Possibly even a cartwheel would have been considered. By that time they had reached the door to Lark's bedroom and entered, closing the door behind them.
Needless to say, they didn't reappear outside of that room for hours.