This is my first ever story. And it Tristan and Isolde. I tried to create the love they felt for each other, so... I guess I'd like it if people reviewed me. This is my first, so I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.
"What are you doing?" Bragnae demanded from behind her. The lady maid held her dress in one hand and her basket in the other. "We mustn't be out here at this time of night." She tried to grab a hold of Isolde's pale blue dress.
The absurdly beautiful women turned around. Her golden hair framing her face in a halo of light and happiness. Her blue eyes seared into Bragnae's with an intensity. "He said he would be back." Her voice was level, though it was quiet. "He promised me."
"And so he did." Bragnae whispered. Her resolve was slipping through her fingers. After the near to death battle that Tristan had endured, she felt like she may owe him something. "Where is he hiding this time?"
Isolde shrugged, no matter how many times he promised, she still worried that she wasn't a good enough reason for him to come back. He may never come back. "I don't quite know." Her words spilled before she could stop them. "The same place as the first time... I think." She turned back to Bragnae, tangling a hand in her hair. "You may leave me." Isolde said quietly. She went to Bragnae and met the older women's brown eyes. "I want you to go home Bragnae. Tell him I'll be back later, I'm walking to see my mother."
"You are my charge." Bragnae tried weakly. Her brown eyes trying to convey her feelings to Isolde. "I just want you to come back safe."
Isolde shook her head. "I am always safe." Her eyes were rash though, and Bragnae could see the burn deep with in them.
"Go find him." Bragnae watched the woman run off and went into the forest a little farther. "Carmen?" The olive skinned woman emerged from the woods in nothing but a small piece of cloth. Bragnae whistled in a high pitch and
Isolde's husband emerged.
He was a Prince. Prince Charles, and he was muscled. His blond hair was shaggy and his blue eyes were the same ones that Isolde had. "Carmen." The women in little clothing fell into his arms, Bragnae turned around as soon as she saw Charles' fingers vanish into the other woman's tuft of pubic hair.
Isolde took of bare foot down the beach. "Tristan!" She called quietly. Her feet were not loud as they gently slapped the sand.
"Isolde?" His curls appeared first, waving wildly in the wind from the north. His strong frame appeared next. The sun burnt cheeks and strong arms that longed to hold Isolde. "Isolde!" He stood in the doorway for one moment. Just watching her run wildly toward him. Her blue dress was flailing wildly behind her. "Oh Isolde." Tristan's eyes just looked her over as her eyes did him.
She looked at him for more scars. The one from the battle, the one in his stomach, was just healed, though it still wasn't perfect. Other than that she found nothing out of the ordinary. His deep green eyes watched her carefully.
When she shuddered under his gaze, Tristan knew he wouldn't be able to wait a long time. She looked too beautiful framed by that halo of light. Tristan's hand reached out before he could pull it back. "Isolde, come in." His voice was low.
She followed him into the small, wooden hut that held all of their memories. The first place they made love. Tristan's arms were around her quickly. "Tristan." She said his name reverently, letting it caress her mouth as she said it. "Oh Tristan." A tear fell down her cheek.
"Isolde?" His callused thumb swept away the tear as soon as it fell. "Isolde, what is wrong?" He helped her to sit down with him. The small blanket in the corner was soft... probably bear or something of the like. His chest was firm under her.
Isolde buried her head into Tristan's neck, finding the cinnamon and sweat smell oddly comforting. "Bragnae said you wouldn't come back." Isolde said quietly. She felt stupid now, especially for believing what Bragnae had said about Tristan. He was different than her husband after all.
Tristan's eyes looked at her. "If you want me to go, I will." He whispered quietly.
In response, Isolde tightened her hold on him. "Never leave me again." She
said with conviction. "I love you Tristan of Aragon."
"And I you Princess Isolde of D' Or." His lips were on the crown of her head. "How is Charles?"
Isolde pouted slightly. "I haven't the slightest idea." She said quietly. "Last time we made love... it seemed as if he knew." She shuddered. "I can't live this lie Tristan, but everything I do is a lie. I lie to Charles... the only person who I don't lie to it you." Her eyes stared unseeingly into the fire. "I want to know that I'm doing the right thing." Isolde said quietly, but she didn't know what the right thing was. It wasn't always the same thing... and her mind wasn't agreeing with her.
Tristan kissed the pulse point in her neck, latching on and sucking like an predator. Isolde knotted her hands into his hair and gently pulled his head to hers. She wanted him, as un-lady like as that was. She wanted to tell him. "Isolde... I'm going to make love to you," she shuddered and turned to face him. "and I don't give a damn about Prince Charles." Tristan murmured. "I want you, and nothing will ever keep us apart again."
She nodded. Sitting in his lap and feeling his throbbing arousal was turning her on. She was aroused. He would be slow tonight.
Tristan could feel her heat through the leather of his pants, and he wanted to know she was here. His mind wasn't letting him forget where he'd been.
If anyone asked he wouldn't have told... but if she asked, he would have told her. Tristan went to his Kingdom once in a while, just to make sure that they were doing okay. He stopped by his father's grave and Mark's grave.
His fingers slid down her side and under her dress to clutch at her hips. "Isolde." He said quietly. His thumb darted out to forcefully rub her clit. Her breath was coming faster now, he could smell her.
"Tristan." She said his name quietly as he could feel her drip onto his other fingers. "Oh Tristan." Her hips bucked toward his fingers.
Tristan bent down slowly. Capturing her lips in a slow, burning kiss that quickly turned passionate. Their lips were like puzzle pieces, they fit together perfectly. Her lips were soft, his were rough, but that didn't matter. Just something else that made the 'opposites attract' theory true.
His fingers were rough as tree bark against her middle. She could feel herself clenching around his fingers, and that was when she grabbed his hand. Closing her eyes, she said it to him quietly. "Stop that. I want you to be inside of me."
Tristan couldn't deny the longing he felt with her. His hand halted but he didn't want to get her into trouble with her husband. "Isolde, are you sure?" He closed his eyes, praying that she was sure.
"Tristan." Her hand slipped down to cradle his hands between hers. Tristan watched with a rapt fascination. Her hands looked tiny inside of his, but they fit like someone had sculpted them from the same piece of block. "I'm positive."
His lips gently latched onto her. His lips refused to release hers. Nothing would him stop. He laid her down on the blanket, caressing her through her shirt. "Isolde." He said against her lips.
Isolde moaned quietly into her mouth. "Tristan." Hers hands slipped under his shirt and gently brought it up over his head. Those vibrant green eyes stayed closed as her hands ran over his shoulders. He could feel her breathing against his shoulder.
His hands went under her dress to lift it above her head. The blue fabric was reluctant to let go of Isolde's curves, but Tristan longed to see those curves with a hunger. He yanked the dress off gently but with a fervor. "I've missed you." He caught her eyes, and laid his head on her breast. "I can hear your heart." Tristan said quietly. "Who does it beat for?"
"You." She answered with conviction. "Only you."
His lips nipped at her breast but he didn't hurt her or leave any marks. She arched into him, pulling up on her taut nipples. Tristan pulled himself higher over her, carefully, slowly, allowing all of his weight to be laid on Isolde.
Isolde put her lips on Tristan's chest, lightly sucking on his firm skin. He threw his head back in a wild abandon she loved, purring her name with a quiet love.
"Can I take you?" Tristan reached his hand down to touch her moist opening. "Isolde?"
She wasn't saying anything. Her mouth was slightly open, and Tristan took the opportunity to slip his tounge it her mouth. Gently rubbing it against her tounge. She was getting wetter, his fingers went inside of her. "Yes. Tristan... take me." She breathed.
Isolde had just been thinking. She had waited for two days for this moment, and now that it was finally here she wanted to savor the feeling of him against her. Every line of him, fitting against every line of hers. She wrapped her hand around Tristan's manhood, and slowly slid him into her. He moaned.
Tristan looked at Isolde's face as she slid him into her. She was peaceful. Tristan wondered how many times her face had looked this same way when she made love to Charles.
They each had something that they needed to stay in the Kingdom for. Isolde, for her husband. Tristan, for his small cousins who were being raised by his grandma. She didn't know he was alive, but it was made easier when he would ring her doorbell and leave her money. He knew it helped, saw his grandma thank him silently with her eyes.
Isolde had gotten married right after Tristan had been nearly killed. Her father had been adamant about that. The fact that his girl needed to marry a good man, not a warrior. That was too unpredictable for Isolde. And when Tristan had been wounded, it had been the same with her. They had agreed that being friends was the best way to combat their feelings... but it became too much one night and Isolde had walked in on Tristan reading her diary that she gave him. They were together again. No one had ever suggested that Isolde not love Tristan again. That idea seemed senial.
He rocked slowly at first. Just getting used to the wet, warm place where Tristan had found his first home. His hands gently sat on either side of her head, tangled into her hair at the roots. Her hands were wrapped around his neck, gently rubbing against his large shoulder blades.
"I'm going to go, Isolde." He started rocking faster, knowing exactly where to rock into her.
"Oh... Tristan." She moaned loudly when he came for the first time. She came too. "Tristan."
He went faster now, savoring the feeling of her and knowing that nothing else in this world was worth living for except his Isolde. "I love you Isolde." He called as he came a second time.
"And I you Tristan." She whispered against his lips.
Tristan collapsed against Isolde's chest with a deep breath. "Have you missed me that much?" Tristan pulled out slowly, attempting to keep her from getting cold. "I missed you that much."
"I did too." She snuggled against Tristan's shoulder, and wrapped a blanket around them. "I missed you every night..."
His eyes looked at her, she stared into the fireplace. "Do you make love to him when I'm not here?" He didn't want to know, but there was something between them that she wasn't saying. "Do you?"
"I can't," Isolde sighed. "thats why I'm being so... quiet. He knew or something. But he didn't try to make me sleep with him. In fact he left both of the nights, and when he returned he was happier. I think hes found a woman." Her smile was radiant as she looked at him. "I just want him to leave me for her. That would make my life easier."
Tristan didn't want to be mean about her plight, but he too, hoped her husband would leave her. She would be his alone. "Oh, hes found a woman?" Tristan's smile was cocky. "I've found a woman too."
She rolled on top of him, caressing his chest. "Don't you dare, Tristan." Her smile was playful. "This isn't anything to be happy about. The Kingdom will be in an uproar, and I mustn't let that happen. What will my father say?" Her accent was coming out in her speech.
Tristan grabbed onto her breasts and forced his palm up to rub them forcefully. "I don't care what your father says." His hands wouldn't halt on her. He brought his lips to hers.
She was having trouble thinking. "Tristan." Her eyes drifted closed. "We can't." The small amount coming in from the window was the color of a milky twilight. "I must go back to Charles."
"No." His hand had slipped down to between her legs. His thumb darted out again. "Just let me go one more time." His eyes became pleading.
"Yes." She sighed and collapsed onto his chest breathing hard. Her eyes were closed. Her hands were tangled into Tristan's hair. "Oh..." Her breath was shaky as it huffed out.
His thumb gently prodded along her middle. She arched into his finger. The calluses on his thumb were oddly comforting to her. Nothing would have made her happier than to cum for Tristan.
His fingers pulled her skin apart and he slid his manhood deep into her.
This time was slow. He pushed into her very slowly. His manhood was large and getting larger, she could feel him pulse and enlarge inside of her. Tristan's manhood rubbed against her G spot with a force that made her moan and stay in that spot, his lips were hard against her.
The kisses he gave her would leave her lips swollen and satisfied. Even her mid section would be swollen with the force of earlier love making. But this time was just a small loving gesture that they did all the time.
She climaxed in a minute with him. He was enough. Tristan held on a moment longer, seeing stars.
For a while they lie still. Neither admitting the ending they knew was coming. Isolde stood up and dropped the blanket, pulling on her dress and finger combing her hair. Tristan slid on his leather pants as she looked at him, he saw her tears.
Tristan was nimble. "Don't cry Isolde." He let his thumb rub away her tears. "Don't cry... know that I love you."
"I know." Isolde sniffled, her tears created radiant trails down his bare chest. "I love you too."
"You must leave." Tristan held her at arm's length. "I know that you need to see your husband. Tomorrow, I'll see you tomorrow." He was so confident as he kissed her already swollen lips. "I will wait Isolde. Every day. How ever long it takes. Bragnae has been wrong before." His voice was strong.
Isolde wrapped her arms around him, kissing him roughly. She forced her tounge into his mouth and made his hands caress her one last time. When they broke apart she held his hand one last time. "I love you Tristan."
"I love you Isolde."
She walked to the door and slowly walked away. Tristan watched her walk away, her light and love not at all bouncing with her.
"I must go Carmen." The naked women lay in his arms. "I love you."
"I love you." Carmen grabbed Charles' hand and put it inside of her. "Touch me." Her Indian accent was thick and strong as she rubbed herself against Charles' hand. His fingers pulsed deep into her and let her buck into him. She climaxed quickly.
"Good bye love." He said quietly.
"I love you." She laid on the grass watching him leave. When he left, she slid her fingers back into herself. She pretended they were his, pinching and teasing her clit with a hard, forcing touch. She was swollen, she wanted sex.
"Charles?" Isolde ran into the inner chamber and sat down on a chair, staring quickly into the nearest mirror. She wanted to make sure she looked alright.
"Yes Isolde?" He sounded irritated. "What would you like?"
She stood up and kissed his cheek, noting that he smelled like the forest.
"Do you have a hunter's run tomorrow night?" Her eyes were hopeful.
As Charles looked at her, he made a quick decision. He would have Bragnae find Carmen again, he wanted to bury himself between her rich thighs. "Yes, I'm just going by myself though. And I will be gone all night."
Isolde turned around, trying hard not to burst out in a radiant smile. She turned around. "Oh, then thats alright."
"Do I need your permission?" His voice was hard.
Isolde shook her head, and slowly walked away toward the door. "No, you don't."
"Then don't give it to me." He left, angry with her. What was she doing?
Sleeping with some other man? This was mad. He saw no reason for this marriage.
And that was exactly why he planned to end it.
She was never late. Never. Always the day after the first full moon, that was when she would endure a week of cramps and bloating... and no sex. Tristan wouldn't even be irritable. He was way too much of a saint to actually complain about that kind of thing. This morning was different though, she was never nauseous.
Isolde picked up her skirt, and ran very quickly to the bath room, closing the door with an angry snap and perching over the basin to puke out everything she'd eaten in the past day.
There was a rap at the door. "I need Bragnae." Isolde went to the door and came face to face with Charles.
"Isolde, what is wrong?" Charles put his hand's on her shoulders and made her look into her eyes.
She recoiled from telling him. I can't tell him, her mind insisted. "Its my time of the calendar." She said slowly.
Charles walked away. "Bragnae!"
Isolde closed the door and went over to the basin to vomit again. Her hair was sweaty and sticking to her forehead. Her hands were clamped onto the toilet bowl, and her eyes were dilated with a strain that she didn't want to feel. Her stomach was resisting her attempts to bend over. Her breasts were heaving wildly against her dress. When Bragnae opened the door, she gasped. "Isolde!" She shut the door and lowered her voice to an angry whisper. "Its that time."
"What?" Her throat felt like sand paper. "Its my week of the calendar." She said quickly.
Bragnae's eyes widened considerably. "What?"
Isolde lowered her hands and started to examine her skirts for blood. She went quickly after glancing at her considerably swollen center. "Nothing Bragnae." Her voice was desperate.
Bragnae heaved a sigh and said the thing that was making the air thick. "You are with child then."
Isolde looked hopeless. "Yes."
"Who's?"
Isolde looked at Bragnae like Bragnae has sprouted another head.
"Tristan's!" She exclaimed in a whisper.
Bragnae put her head in her hands. "Hes seeing a French woman." She said quietly.
"Really?" Isolde's eyes lit up. "Charles is seeing a French woman?"
She nodded. "Yes."
Isolde nodded her head in excitement. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I
have to wait until tonight to see Tristan."
The wait was one of the longest of her life.
Thanks for reading.
