R&R! Although this is a one shot right now, I just finished it and it's late, so I'll probably edit it. Criticism is welcome. I may add a second chapter later, but most likely not.
Being Carried Away
One afternoon when black-haired Alanna was shopping with Mistress Cooper, their journey took a route that landed them near the Dancing Dove.
"Have we walked that far?" Alanna asked, surprised.
"We've walked that far in this part of town, that's what surprises me," Mistress Cooper said with a laugh. A distant bell struck three o'clock, startling her. "Goddess, I've forgotten the time," she told Alanna. "I hate to cut our shopping short, but I've got to hurry back to the house; I have to meet someone there soon."
Alanna stared up at the sign of the Dancing Dove."Maybe I'll stop in and visit George. I'd like to chat with him." Turning to the older woman, she saw her shrug and smile.
"If you'd like to, I'm sure he'd enjoy your company."
Considering it, Alanna nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like it would be nice. I'll be able to find my way back to change when I'm done."
"You sure you're alright with that?"
Alanna nodded. "It'll be nice."
Mistress Cooper smiled and said, "Well, good day. I'll see you this evening."
Alanna waved, and walked up the steps.
The tavern was empty at this time of day, save for a few drunks and a boy who was about eleven. Alanna had no idea what he was doing there, and just headed up to George's rooms, hoping he was around.
Luckily, when she knocked on the door, George's voice said through it, "Who is it?"
Unsure how to reply to this, as there were probably people within hearing, she answered only, "Alanna."
George opened the door, looking curious, until he saw her. His curiosity turned into amazement, and he ushered her in. Oddly, Alanna was neither disconcerted nor made uncomfortable by his lingering stare.
"What are you doing here, lass?" he asked, a bit breathless.
"I was shopping with your mother, and we ended up here."
George snorted a bit. "Where were you shopping? This isn't exactly the market district."
Alanna just shrugged. "She had to go back early, so I thought I'd come visit you. Things have been a bit tense at the palace." Though she didn't explain, she imagined that George could guess that Jon had been pursuing her a bit more ardently recently. She also thought he guessed that she had been rejecting him with equal ardor. Wanting to change the subject, she moved to stare out the window and said, "It's been lovely weather recently."
George came up behind her and began rubbing her bare shoulders. She didn't realize that her hands grasped her skirts, but George heard them rustle and looked down.
He stopped the massage and leaned over to whisper roughly, "Here I am thinking I'd relax you, and I just made you more tense." His hand brushed hers at her side.
Alanna turned around quickly. "No, I wasn't tense..." she trailed off a bit as George picked up her hand, and one by one, lightly kissed her knuckles. Staring at his action, she tried to explain herself. "I just... I..." her voice fell away, and she felt a blush rise in her cheeks and chest -the latter was a bit embarrassing due to her low square neckline.
Looking up from her hand, George noticed her blush and smiled his wicked grin. "I understand the trouble," he said. "Maybe this will help." Saying that, he stepped toward her and began kissing the curve where her shoulder met her neck. He moved up her throat, his movements assured and calm.
But, surprised by his actions, Alanna became nervous, almost frantic. "George, don't. Please stop."
As soon as she had uttered the words, he took a step away, though he still held onto her hand lightly.
Again, she blushed. "I'm sorry, I just..."
George looked sorry himself, and said softly, "No, I apologize. I wanted to relax you, but I just made you nervous. I'm sorry. Turn around, maybe I'll do better this time."
Alanna obligingly turned back toward the window, letting George's hands work on her shoulders, neck and back. He had regained his composure and casual attitude, although he spoke a bit more softly this time.
Lulled by his skilled massage, Alanna was glad he was doing the talking so her eyes could flutter closed and she could lose herself in the feel of his hands. She thought a bit. This is nice. Maybe letting him relax me wouldn't be so bad. As she contemplated, the idea of George for a lover seemed more soothing and less frightening than it ever had before. She remembered what the Goddess had said about loving.
Finally his hands dropped. "You feeling better?" he asked her.
"Mm. Much better."
She turned back to him, then walked around him to casually look at a porcelain box on his desk.
"Alanna." She turned to his voice.
He moved his hand up and rested it gently, very gently, on her cheek. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't mean to... get carried away."
Almost against her will, but ever-so-compliant with her feelings, her hand moved up to rest on his. "No. Don't be sorry. Maybe getting carried away is a good thing. Maybe I need to be carried away."
His breath seemed uneven, and he looked into her eyes to seek the invitation he thought he had heard. It was there.
Softly and swiftly, he leaned in to kiss her. The kiss seemed perpetual; just as she expected him to pull away, he began again. Finally, after what simultaneously felt like years and seconds, he withdrew, and as he did, Alanna felt -to her embarrassment- a soft "oh" pull from her lips.
George grinned. Although she expected him to say something, to seek another invitation or confirmation, instead he just leaned in again to kiss her. This time he was not so mild, made more confident by her low exclamation. He moved to the corner of her lips, then down her neck to her collarbone. He smiled against her skin as he heard her gasp, then returned to her lips. She leaned into him, receptive.
He broke the kiss, and started again, gentler this time. Suddenly he pulled away. His voice was rough and soft as he said to her, "That was enough. I don't want to get carried away."
She shook her head and slipped her wig off. Leaning against his chest, she said, "Didn't you hear me? I want to be carried away, George."
He pulled her away from him and looked into her eyes. The love that lived there was still as deep as ever. "Are you sure, Alanna? You once said you didn't want any man."
"I also once said I'd never fall-" she cut herself off and looked to the ground, afraid of her own words.
He hugged her against him and said, "Well, my dear lass, let me help you get carried away." He picked her up into his arms and brought her through the door into his bedroom.
He set her onto the bed, and she pulled him against her, unlacing his already half-undone shirt. When she tugged it off, she looked up at him, noticing with a smile his mussed short hair. She flattened it against his head, gently.
"I'm not handsome enough for you, lady-my-love?"
At this she had to giggle. "You are much too handsome for me; that's the problem."
"No," he said sincerely. "Never." He leaned in to kiss her, deftly untying her bodice as his mouth did wonders against hers.
He pulled away and she tried to lean up to him, her mouth following his, protesting the sudden removal of his lips. Opening her eyes, she saw that he was looking down at her, serious. Her dress was half done and her skirt was pulled up to her knees.
"Alanna, if you ever want to stop, if you change your mind, at any time, just tell me. I'll stop, I promise."
She tweaked his nose. "You silly lad, I told you, I don't want to stop."
He took this as consent and began again on her dress.
