A memory of Beltane...
Ciri came to Avallac'h with a bit of hardened honey, placing it in his hand. The Beltaine festival moved around them. He looked at it and then at her. He knew what that sweet was asking.
"Zireael..."
"I chose you..." She said, to his shocked face. "Bed me..."
When he didn't respond she stood on tiptoe to kiss him, hard and hungry. He looked down at her and took her hand, clutching the sweet in his palm. He was looking for something, finding it he pulled her along as a portal opened.
They had traveled through several, until they were in a chamber in a place where the wind howled. He managed to close the chamber door one-handed. He returned to her as they stood in the center. He looked at her and put the sweet in his mouth, leaning down to kiss her. The bit of honey melted in their kiss.
Hands began to explore, learning how ties and buttons worked, how pins pricked and buckles held. He paused only long enough to lay out the blankets he had summoned, he would not be so cruel as to bed her upon cold stone. Hands found flesh, kisses soft and touch softer. She traced the sharpness of his cheekbones, looking to eyes as blue as the sea and of the sky. He traced the scar on her cheek, his thumb along her jaw. They wanted to remember each expression, a memory to sweeten their antagonistic relationship.
He lay back first, exposed to her. She began to explore, tasting his skin She relished the feel of his shivers as she kissed sensitive places. Kisses gave way to a wet warmth, that had him arching. He laced on hand into ashen hair, the other gripped the blankets to anchor him to earth. He groaned when she pulled away, exposing him to air.
He rolled her onto her back and began kissing her. First her lips and then her throat, he showed her his skill as a lover as he went lower until he met her pale curls. He dipped his head to use his tongue, tasting her honey. The arch of her hips rewarded him with more. He turned his head and kissed the rose on her thigh.
He slid up her body, feeling her hands come up to pull him in. She reached down to guide him, he put his hand over hers to aid her. The first contact made them both groan. He needed to go slow, she may have had a female lover before but a male was very different.
He felt her body grip him, a groan escaped his lips. He looked down at her, murmuring in elder speech endearments as he sank deeper. It took long minutes to be fully seated in her. Both were breathing heavily. She pulled him down as he lifted her hips to meet his.
He taught her, guided her into the Rythum his body liked. Groans and breathless words. The world tightened around them until there seemed no air even for them. He shifted positions to be seated on his heels as his hands continued to guide. Her kisses were still honey-sweet, even if hungry now. Release slammed him to the stone, Ciri above him. He gripped her hips, guiding her still as both held in the arch of desire.
He held her as she felt upon his chest, both gasping for air. Her tongue flicked out playfully flick one of his nipples before she moved off of him to lay against his side. HE turned enough to look at her, ashen hair a bit dark with sweat. He traced the scar again as her hand came up to cup his cheek, another kiss hungry as before.
Three more times did their bodies seek release with each other. He lay on his side watching her, his swallow. He would never be able to let her go now, both of them knew it. She traced over the vines on his side.
"...I choose you." She said again. "My grumpy apple tree..."
He had to laugh at that, a rich sound that echoed off the walls. It startled her a bit as she'd never heard him genuinely laugh.
"Zireael...Why..."
"I love you."
That admonition shocked him.
"You cannot mean..."
She put her finger to his lips, "...I would not have been so upset at your lab if I didn't feel something for you. I needed this...I love you Crevan."
"And I you, Cirilla..."
The curled together, a little sleep before they had to face the hunt again.
#
A thousand years later...
Crevan sighed as he lay the necklace at the feet of Lara's stature. That night was a pleasant memory. He looked up at the stone swallow in the statue's hand. He touched the base, within were the ashes of Ciri and one of their daughters. He looked to see his Sovereigns kneeling at the small grave of their stillborn child, laying spring flowers upon it and the grave next to it.
"I still love you Zireael..." He said in a low voice.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned.
"Ready, the Beltane fair should be in full swing when we get back..."
He nodded, a honey-sweet awaited him from the hands of his queen.