Dreams (Obernewtyn fanfic)
Genre: Humour/RomanceRated R for implied naughtiness.
Disclaimer: The Obernewtyn series and all characters, situations and locations contained therein are the property of Isobelle Carmody.
"How did you get into the library, again? I thought you said the door was jammed shut." Garth titled his head, studying Kella with professional curiosity.
Kella frowned a little. "I…well, I'm not sure really. Elspeth opened it somehow – Guildmistress?"
Elspeth squirmed uncomfortably on the battered couch as four pairs of curious eyes turned towards her. From the look on her face, she'd been hoping to avoid this.
"My dear? Is this true?" Garth leaned forward, hands resting on his massive knees. Rushton stood impassive in his shadowy corner, preferring to observe the conversation, rather than participate. Elspeth sighed.
"Yes, well – it's just a parlour trick, really, something I taught myself a few years ago. It's really very simple, just scoping out the layout of the tumblers and giving them a little push, nothing your teknoguilders couldn't do. And of course once the mechanism got going it just sort of fell in under the weight of the earth above, much like a trapdoor."
Rushton smiled a little to himself, unnoticed in the corner. It seemed as if every few moons Elspeth tripped herself up over some new Talent or trick she'd been hiding from them all. He stole a lingering glance at her from under his lashes, hardly daring to believe that she could be here, again, when only a few weeks ago he had believed her lost forever. She was immersed in her conversation with Garth, a complicated discourse on the working of locks, it seemed. Tacitly excused from what had begun as a debriefing on the discovery and exploration of the Beforetime library outside Aborium, Kella and Brydda had begun a whispered discussion of their own. From Kella's half-hidden sighs, he guessed it was about Domick's upcoming departure to the safe house Brydda had helped them set up in Sutrium. He wondered idly if she would go with him, and imagined the uproar it would cause in the Healer and Coercer guilds. He straightened.
"Garth, are we done?"
Elspeth startled a little, and turned to stare at him with wide green eyes. Kellatrailed to a halt, mid-sentence. It seemed they had, indeed, forgotten his presence.
"Er…well, yes, I suppose so. Was there anything else?"
Kella shook her head. "No…nothing."
Elspeth echoed the movement mutely. She was still staring at him, he noticed. He gave a little nod in her direction, and she blinked as if released from a trance, and ducked her head, blushing furiously.
"Well, if we're done, I'm off to bed. I have an early morning tomorrow."
Exiting the small antechamber, he tried unsuccessfully to shake the image of Elspeth staring at him, green eyes sparkling despite the dark smudges below them, tangled black hair falling across one cheek and over her shoulders. He walked briskly through the darkened halls to his chamber, pushing down the desire to comb through her tangled hair, straightening it with his fingers; purposely ignoring it as he locked his door, as he undressed and blew out the candles beside his bed, berating himself for the inappropriate nature of his thoughts. He tossed restlessly, trying to forget the way she had looked at him, and very nearly succeeded. Finally he managed to find a comfortable position, and was on the verge of sleep when her overheard words of that evening came back to him:
"It's really a very simple thing to unlock a door."
Clink.
Rushton cracked an eye open blearily. Had he heard something? He tensed, straining his ears for any sound. Nothing. He closed his eyes again to the blackness, content to allow himself to fall asleep again.
Clink.
There. He'd definitely heard something this time…what?
Clink.
The lock. That was his lock, he was sure of it. But who on earth could want to break into his rooms? He sat up, groping for the flint and candles besides his bed. The spark caught, and he looked around his rooms in bewilderment. He spent little enough time in them that they had preserved a sense of Spartan almost-anonymity, the few objects scattered about of a sentimental, rather than material, worth.
The door gave a final satisfied click, and opened. Rushton remained in his half-sitting position, leaned back upon the pillows, peering at the dark-cloaked intruder through the filmy curtains of the four poster bed installed by one of the room's previous inhabitants. The intruder – whoever they were – shut the door behind them and turned to face him, raising a finger to unseen lips in the universal gesture of silence.
They moved towards the bed in a smooth, silent gait, body hidden beneath the voluminous cloak, slender pale hands reaching up to push back the deep hood. The intruder reached the bed, tossing back the hood as they parted the curtains with one hand. He inhaled sharply at the sight of her face.
Elspeth.
"What…"
"Shhh." She sat down beside him, and he caught a glimpse of whatever it was she was wearing under the cloak, white and frothy and very definitely translucent.
"But…"
"I told you," She said, a dangerous smile quirking her lips, "not to talk."
"I…"
She cupped his face in her hands, thumbs smoothing over his lips.
"Do you think I'm beautiful?"
Something wasn't quite right with this situation, he was sure of it.
"Yes."
"Do you love me?"
What was wrong?
"Yes."
"And do you want me?"
She shouldn't be saying this to him, not here, now in his rooms, he was sure of it. But she was smiling at him, and looking at him with those green eyes, and really, did it matter?
"Yes,"
She grinned and slid a hand down to his shoulder, pushing him further into the pillows. "Good." She leaned forward, and he caught a hint of her perfume, roses and cinnamon and something else, and then she was kissing him and oh Lud she tasted so good. He reached up, wanting to feel her hair, to test its weight and softness…
He woke, eyes snapping open to the darkness of his cold – and very definitely empty – room, one hand poised to run through her hair. He fell back, staring at the faintly visible canopy, fingers running lightly over his lips.
"Damn."
A/N: So, there you go – my first vaguely PWP-fic. Huge props to the lovely Buneater, who beta'd this for me fresh from a bout of 2am inspiration. )