Paint the Blossoms
by SMYGO4EVA
There were times when Nitocris thought of Scheherazade more often. Those times were usually when she found herself in the midst of thought, when she was to be focusing on another matter entirely. She even found herself thinking about the Caster in the middle of the night, and for no real reason. The former queen would take her place in the Holy Grail War, seeking and waiting; cloying thoughts of the Caster of the Nocturnal Castle would then arise.
Nitocris had always looked upon Scheherazade with awe and adoration, as they ventured through this new Holy Grail War. Although she would never admit it to anyone, it was the woman's eyes and her kiss that stayed with her. She still remembered that balmy desert night, as she heard the woman's hushed and soothing voice near her ear. She still felt the soft pressure of Scheherazade's lips against her own before the woman traced her tongue against her bottom lip. She then remembered sighing in delight and shivering when Nitocris eagerly returning such a welcome kiss.
Scheherazade remembered in vivid clarity when they kissed and threaded their hands under the stars, and Nitocris held that memory close to her. Nitocris's voice was like honey mixed with bubbles, weaving and looming in her mind. The Caster knew that this would be just between them, and no one could ever know. Even though they had grown closer than they thought, there was still much to lose. And when she found herself falling into these memories, she often wondered what would happen if she and Nitocris could forsake the Holy Grail and live their lives fearlessly.
It would be a dangerous course, as the winds would be against them, as destiny would take its toll. However, it was the step they were both willing to take, and to entwine their hands together, to paint the blossoms, that would be enough for them.