"Wait." Marty said slowly, staring at Rory in disbelief, "Tristan....kissed.....you...." he trailed off, his hands hovering over a large pot with something steaming inside, having forgotten what he was supposed to be doing.
"Yes."
"Like, on the cheek?" he asked, his forehead scrunched. She shook her head, sighing. He nodded, "The forehead?" Again a shake. He leaned down closer, "Like a small peck?"
She glared at him, her shoulders falling, "You're not "musing."
He grinned, "I think I am. But really, Tristan kissed you? As in grabbed you and kissed you?"
Rory sighed, biting her lip as she glanced around the sparsely populated kitchen. There were only three other people, but two of them continuously glanced over at her, "Yes." she said quietly, "Could you at least keep your voice down?"
Marty laughed, half amused and half shocked, "Keep my voice down? Keep my voice down?" he shook his head lightly, "The king kisses you and you want me to keep my voice down?" Her eyes narrowed but she didn't reply. He let out a low whistle, shaking his head at her after a moment of silence, "I'll tell you, Leigh, you're in for it now. How long ago was it?"
"Three days."
His eyes widened, "What? Are you serious? and you're just now telling me?"
"Well..." she trailed off, shrugging, "I didn't know what to say."
"No? Well how about, 'hey Marty, how are you? By the way, the king kissed me today.'?"
She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, "Very funny."
He nudged her with his elbow, "So, he kissed you four days ago. And since then?"
She glanced up at him, "Since then what?"
"Since then what's happened?"
"Oh." Rory sighed, leaning against the counter, "Nothing."
His head cocked back, "Nothing?"
She shrugged, "I've barely seen him."
"Huh. Strange." Marty turned back to his work, dropping " handful of leaves into the pot to season it, "Why is that, do you think?"
Rory shook her he"d, "I don't know. I mean, I don't think he's avoiding me..." she trailed off, pressing her lips together. Her mind flashed back to the previous morning. After forcing Rory to down more of that vile pregnancy-preventing tea like she did every morning, Anna had decided that it was time for another waxing. And, like every time she had to remove her skirt in front of Anna, she'd been wracked with panic the whole time. She felt the material of her skirt rub against the Hayden crest that had been branded into her right hip as an infant. Anytime someone touched her, anytime Tristan looked at her, and anytime Anna forced her into waxing her legs, she felt as if the brand were burning, a beacon to alert Tristan to her true identity. She didn't think Anna had seen it. She'd never pulled back in shock or said anything about it. And Rory's head was still attached to her shoulders, so as far as she could tell the head maid was unaware of it.
She was snapped from her reverie when she realized that Marty was talking. She glanced up at him, her forehead scrunched, "Huh?"
He shook his head at her, amused, "I said a messenger just came from Logan. He wants to see you."
**************************************
Rory walked down the corridor leading to the kitchen the next day, holding one of the newborn Mastiff puppies in her arms to show to Marty. The litter had been born several weeks ago; some of the puppies were to be trained to guard and others to hunt. The one in her arms now was one of the males from the group with beige fur and big brown eyes. His muzzle was black and between his eyes and on his forehead it was wrinkled like most puppies had. And he had floppy ears that, whenever she spoke to him, would move as he perked up, tilting his he"d to the side as if listening to what she was telling him. He was thick, but not fat; solid and seemed to weigh too much for his little body. Its father was one of Tristan's largest hunting dogs, used to take down bears and boars, and its mother was one of the castle's guard dogs. He was small, the runt, and would be a guard dog rather than a hunter. She hugged the warm bundle of fur closer and the dog gurgled happily, rubbing its face against her chest. She continued down the empty servants' hall, surprised, when she came to realize that it was absolutely silent. It was never silent in the servants' wing. She stopped and the puppy raised its head, looking around. "Strange, hmm?" she asked it quietly and it yipped in response. She smiled before continuing down, the only sound her own footsteps, until another sound materialized from somewhere before her. She slowed down and as she got nearer the sound solidified into voices coming from around the bend in front of her.
There were two voices. One was a woman's she didn't recognize. The other was a man's she did. "Stop it."
Rory froze.
"Tristan, come on." the other voice, the woman's, was almost a purr.
"You've never said no before. What's the matter?"
"Kira, I'm serious. I'm not interested."
"Since when? Are you not feeling well? I can help with that." her voice was sultry, deep for a woman but still absolutely feminine. There was also a quality to it, something in the woman's inflection that she couldn't place, that just made Rory think of bed sheets and the moon and sweat. She sounded beautiful. and powerful. and older than Rory. and there was something in her voice, a smugness, a lilt when she spoke to Tristan that, even if she hadn't been able to hear exactly what the woman was saying to him, Rory would have known that she'd seen Tristan, touched him, tasted him in a way that she never had.
"Kira." he said her name sharply; there was a warning in his voice. One that Rory had rarely heard, but had never seen anyone ignore.
An annoyed scoff barked from the back of the woman's throat, "Is this about that girl, Tristan? Lisa? The peasant trainer?"
"Her name is Leigh." his voice was " growl, but even at that she felt her chest flutter as her name passed over his lips.
"Okay, fine, Leigh." she emphasized the name mockingly, "Is this still about her? I really don't understand, Tristan, what's this power that she has over you?"
"She doesn't have any kind of power over me." she heard his footsteps move closer to her and her pulse quickened. He was walking towards her.
The woman with him laughed and there was the sound of two dancing footfalls before Rory heard her hand slap around something, probably his wrist, and Tristan's steps stopped, "That's not what I see, Tristan." Rory bit her lip, leaning against the wall. She wanted to turn around, wanted to walk away. But she didn't think it would be possible to go without them hearing. and even if that adn't been an issue she didn't think she had the ability to turn away. She held the dog closer, shivering as a chilled breeze swept through the stone corridor.
"What are you talking about?"
"You haven't touched her, Tristan." she said it accusingly, one of the few people who didn't seem to fear the king, "I can see that. She screams of a virgin still. You haven't touched her, but since she's been here you haven't even looked at anyone else." Rory felt her eyes widen. There was a burning in her chest, obviously, because part of her didn't want to hear this conversation. She didn't want to hear from the women Tristan had slept with. Didn't want to hear them talk to him or try to get him to touch them. But even through that she couldn't stop the shock that pulsed in the back of her mind, or that strange sense of satisfaction that seemed to blossom every time she saw Tristan surrender to her or heard someone else notice it. She wasn't sure what to think completely, though, she knew that people saw how he was different around her, but she never expected that people she never noticed, like most of the servants, had picked up on it. She assumed the woman was a servant because otherwise she couldn't think of why they would be in here.
He sighed and Rory imagined that he was probably rolling his eyes, "How would you know who I have and haven't touched?"
"People talk Tristan. You haven't touched me, and no one else I've heard from has seen anything." he didn't respond. The woman sighed, but there was a smile in her voice, "I mean, really Tristan, she's been here for two months. Two months. and you haven't touched anyone." her voice dropped an octave and the even deeper tone made Rory feel violated, like she was listening to them through a closed bedroom door. She pushed down the urge to shiver or turn away, "How in the world have you managed? Have you ever gone that long without touching anyone?" The sound of her lips as they smacked away from skin hit Rory like an arrow to her brain. There was another kiss. and another. She heard a rustling of clothes and then something solid hitting the wall. It sounded like a body. "How, Tristan?" she repeated breathily. Then something else hit the floor dully, covered in cloth, knees.
"Kira." his voice wasn't as sharp as it had been before, "Get up."
"No, Tristan, if I know you then you can say no to my body, but you can't say no to this." she hard a string being pulled and the snap as a knot came undone.
"Kira." this time his voice was sharp, "Get off the floor, now." he hissed.
She gasped lightly, followed by a satisfied hum, "Tristan, you can say no all you want, but your body can't. Two months is a long time. I can feel that you want it."
Rory's jaw dropped. Her voice sounded like sex. as simple as that. and there was only one way she imagined the woman on the floor in front of Tristan had intended the word feel.
"Tell me Tristan," once again her voice was a purr, a conqueror, "does your trainer know how to do–ah!" she broke off in a gasp and Rory heard Tristan grab her and haul her up.
"I swear, Kira," he hissed, "I will have you sold to Rivenlear as a slave if you don't learn your place."
It took the woman a moment to respond, and when she finally did there was a tremor in her voice, though she tried to mask it, "Once you bed her are you going to return to normal?"
There was a bitter note in his voice, "Normal, Kira? Don't speak like you actually know me. You don't know anything about me."
She laughed humorlessly, "I do know you, Tristan...."
She continued talking but Rory was gone. She turned on her heel and flew silently back down the way she'd come. She shouldn't have heard that conversation. She wondered briefly how often women in the castle tried to exchange sexual favors with Tristan in random corridors. and how often he really denied them. She couldn't think about it, though. It made her shiver to know that women that Tristan used to sleep with were discussing with him when he would conquer her. When he would get her. It wasn't even all that. It wasn't only that random whores in the castle were arguing with Tristan about whether or not he was going to sleep with her. It was that they were using it against him. That they were only waiting for him to bed her and drop her so that they could get back to their routine. But she couldn't stop herself from thinking about it because part of her knew that the thoughts weren't unfounded. Why wouldn't they think that in the end she would be in his bed? What reason had she given anyone to not believe that? What reason had she given herself? Because now, after touching him, after tasting him, after feeling him grab her and hold her and possess her and consume her, she didn't know how strong her willpower was. She didn't know that she would have been capable of telling him no. Didn't even know that the thought would cross her mind if he were touching her. Rory was running down the corridor without looking and, as seemed to happen often when she wondered into the servants' wing, she ran headlong into someone. Luckily it was Marty. He reached out to steady her as she bounced off of him, which was a plus considering her hands were full and she couldn't use her arms to balance herself.
"Leigh?" he looked down, surprised, "Are you alright?" there was genuine concern in his voice.
"Oh, yes, I'm fine." she said quietly, knowing that he could see through her lie.
"Are you sure? You look like you've seen a ghost."
She shook her head, closing her eyes, "No. No. I just...." she trailed off, lost as to how to continue, "....I brought " dog." she held up the puppy and Marty glanced at it without speaking.
They stood in silence for a moment, his forehead scrunched, "Uh, yes, Leigh, I see that. He's very sweet, but you might want to stop holding him like that before you damage him." she glanced at the puppy she held up in her right hand. She was holding him under his stomach and up, his legs were on either side of her hand, splayed awkwardly and he looked up at her expressionlessly from hooded eyelids as if silently asking her if she'd lost her mind.
"Oh." she said quietly, pulling him back to her chest, "Sorry puppy."
Marty tilted his head, looking down at her, "You sure you're okay?" he asked again. She nodded. "Alright. Well walk with me, I have to get to the kitchen. So you brought one of the new puppies?"
She nodded, following as he turned her around the way she'd just run from and started leading her back down the corridor. She made small talk with him, her body tensing as each step they took brought her closer to Tristan and Kira. She didn't want to walk in on them. Didn't want to see Tristan's face or find out was his former lover looked like. She didn't want to feel the gaping inadequacy she knew would result from seeing the gorgeous woman who had been throwing herself at Tristan. But she couldn't tell Marty about what she'd heard, and so she just followed silently, laying gentle kisses on the puppy's forehead as Marty spoke to her and led her deeper and deeper into the center of the earth. Slowly, as before, the voices came, angrier this time than before. The woman was screaming something about punishing himself for his own conquests and he was yelling something about having her sold to a brothel.
But Marty didn't hesitate as she had. He just shot her a look she couldn't decipher and turned the corner that she'd hid behind. The voices cut off immediately. Rory came around only a second after Marty. Tristan looked at them with an unreadable expression. He was surprised, obviously, but not to the point that Rory would say he looked shocked. He barely glanced at Marty, however; his eyes were on her. and she felt a burning deep within her stomach as she felt him staring. She couldn't tell from the look on his face whether he wondered how much she heard or if he even cared. She couldn't tell if he was glad she'd heard whatever she did or wished she hadn't been on this side of the castle.
Kira looked at Rory and Marty, wide eyed and caught off guard. She glanced between them, but mainly at Rory. She was annoyed, that much was obvious, as after a moment her face twisted slightly. Rory's presence seemed to displease her. She'd been right in her prediction, however. The woman was beautiful. She looked to be around Tristan's age, maybe a year or two older. She was probably the same height as Rory, but more voluptuous. She had smooth, shapely hips, large breasts, and full lips. Her skin was lightly tanned from spending time outside and her features were delicate in a way that allured men. She had large brown eyes and a small curved nose. Her cheekbones were high and her face shaped like a heart. Her hair was lighter than Rory's, a golden brown, and it cascaded halfway down her back in big loping curls.
Marty looked between the two uncertainly, "Did we uh, interrupt something?" he asked awkwardly.
Rory thought it was an unnecessary question, what with Tristan's thinly veiled anger and her heaving chest and flushed cheeks, obviously the products of arguing. But she supposed there was really nothing else he could have asked.
"No." Tristan answered without taking his eyes off of Rory, "Kira was just leaving, actually." Her head snapped around to look at him, her mouth opened in disbelief. But at the look he shot her she said nothing, just shoved past Rory without anything but a parting glare in the girl's direction. He opened his mouth, but closed it before shaking his head lightly, "I see you brought one of Cecilia's puppies." she nodded, holding him up, this time with both hands, to show Tristan,
"Yes." she started, "Cecilia? That's the mother's name?" Tristan laughed, nodding, "Yes."
"But..." Rory trailed off, confused. That was the queen mother's name.
He grinned, understanding her confusion, "When I was fourteen we killed a wild sow boar on a hunt, but it had a piglet with it. We kept the piglet and I named it Cecilia, but after a few weeks it died. One of the guard dogs had just had a litter so I named one of the puppies Cecilia instead, because it drove my mother mad." he nodded towards the puppy in her hands, "that one's mother. I was just lucky it was a Mastiff. If it had been a greyhound or an alaunt I don't think she would have been quite so offended."
Rory, despite herself, laughed, "You're such a sweet son."
He still smiled, shaking his head, "I'm sure she would agree, but I actually have to get back to talk to Logan about something." he nodded towards the dog in her hands, "He's small." she nodded, "Yes, he was the runt." Tristan's expression shifted lightly and, if anything, became more ambiguous, "Well, Mary, you keep that one." he stepped closer to her, gripping the tops of her arms gently to pull her closer, "Mastiffs make wonderful guard dogs and I think you're going to need one." he leaned down and kissed her forehead lightly. "I'll see you later today." he ruffled the dog's ears playfully and nodded towards Marty in farewell. He turned to head down the corridor.
"Tristan." she said quietly before he'd taken a step away. He turned back towards her. She hitched the dog up, "Thank you." she whispered. She wasn't sure, exactly, what the thanks was for. For the dog. For turning Kira away. For not letting Kira talk about her. For treating her differently than he did anyone else.
He watched her for a moment, his gaze calculating as if he too knew that she wasn't sure what she was thanking him for. and he knew all the things she was trying to decide between. after a moment his face cleared and his expression softened. He raised his hand to cup her cheek and tilt her head up towards his. He leaned down, laying the gentlest of kisses on her lips. Her heart and eyelids both fluttered, but only for a moment because then his lips were off of hers, "You're welcome." he whispered back, his lips just far enough away that they weren't touching hers. She bit her lip and he traced his thumb down her jawline once before pulling back and turning down the corridor.
Rory sighed, sagging back. Marty cleared his throat and she jumped lightly, having forgotten he was there. "Well that was sweet."
She narrowed her eyes in mock annoyance, "I hate you."
He grinned, shaking his head lightly, "You always say that. I don't think you really mean it." She didn't respond, just glared some more, and he laughed, throwing his arm around her shoulders and continuing back towards the kitchen, "It is true, though. He did act differently than I've ever seen." Rory continued to ignore his comments, but looked down to the puppy in her arms, bouncing him lightly. as they continued down the empty corridor in silence Rory sensed Marty's attitude shift, his amusement melting. She didn't speak though; the only sounds besides their footsteps were the cracking of the torches that illuminated the stone walkway and the occasional echoing drip of some hidden leak. She felt his hesitance, his desire to say more but the inability to think of how to say it. She raised her hand to scratch the dog behind the ears, kissing its forehead lightly; its leg jumped against her stomach and it stretched its neck forward, closing its eyes and whining softly. after another stretch of silence Marty spoke quietly, as if uncertain whether he should, "He must like you something fierce, though." Over the past few weeks she'd developed the ability to stop reacting with shock whenever someone said something about Tristan liking her or wanting her or lusting after her, and remarkably her face stayed blank.
Despite the fact that the mention of such things still caused her heart rate to accelerate.
She didn't look at him for fear that her eyes would give her away as she spoke, "Why do you say that?"
She felt him shake his head, dropping his arm from around her shoulders, "Turning down Kira...." he trailed off, "I don't know that I've ever seen anyone do that. Let alone Tristan."
At that Rory couldn't hold her facade of indifference and she turned her head sharply, "What do you mean?"
He glanced down at her, unsurprised by her violent reaction. His forehead screwed up in concentration as he looked back "head of them, "Kira.. She is..." he trailed off, searching for a word, "....persuasive. I guess you could say. She's been a laundry maid here for three years and I don't remember a time when she wasn't after Tristan."
Rory felt a reaction in her body. A heat deep in her chest and her stomach, but didn't know what to call it or what to think of it. "Three years?" she asked, shocked.
Marty winced, "Yes." Rory opened her mouth, unsure of what to say. Marty bit his lip then carefully cleared his face, guarding his expression. She got the distinct impression that he regretted telling her, "She isn't exactly discreet about it. I've never heard him say anything about it, though. She likes to talk." He fell silent awkwardly, his expression still guarded but unable to mask his discomfort.
Rory didn't look at him, just stared forward. She didn't know what to think. Three years. Tristan had never struck her as the kind to keep coming back. Especially for years. "So..." she trailed off, her mind screaming and clouded and racing all at the same time. But she couldn't form a distinct thought. It was just full of colors and sounds and feelings she couldn't decipher. "...so then, he cares about her?" she asked quietly. That was the only thing she could think of.
Marty started next to her, surprised. There was shock in his voice, "What? Care about her?" he almost laughed, "No. Definitely not."
Rory looked up at him, "Three years? How can he not care about her? Why would he keep going back?"
The look Marty gave her then made her want to punch it off his face. Like she was naive and adorable and childish, "Leigh, she's been a laundry maid for three years, and I've never seen her wash an article of clothing."
She shook her head, "So what, he keeps her employed for sex?"
"No." he was amused again. Not overtly, but a little, and it was in a way that didn't make her feel like an idiot, "Honestly I don't think he even knows that she doesn't do anything. At first I think she worked but the more she was with him, the more she started to feel like she didn't have to work. Now she walks around like she controls the castle and no one cares or wants to deal with her so much that they'll waste the energy to tell her otherwise and have to deal with her ego." he laughed lightly, "She seems to think she has some power over him, but I'm guessing after that little episode she's finally realized that isn't the case."
Rory pressed her lips together, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully, slowing their pace until they were barely walking. "But she cares about him?"
Marty didn't answer at first, just sighed thoughtfully. "No." he answered after a moment, "I don't think so."
"So she just lets him use her like that? Begs him for it?" she shook her head, "I don't think so. Women aren't the same as men."
Marty shrugged, "She likes sex. And she likes it with Tristan more than anyone else."
"Because she cares about him."
"No, Leigh. I think it could be " thousand things. But I don't think it's because she cares about him. His body, maybe, and the things it does to her. But not because she genuinely cares for him. It's something else."
She exhaled quietly, blinking slowly, "Because he's the king?"
He shook his he"d lightly, "No, I thought that before, but not anymore. Now I think it's just because she likes sex, and he's very good at it."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That night Rory walked bouncingly down the well trodden dirt path towards one of the wooded arenas that the men practiced in. The singing of the crickets and rustling of the leaves melted gradually into the sounds of clashing metal and laughing shouts. She he"rd them and before she saw them. after only a few moments she came into view of the arena; it was a large circular clearing in the woods, the grass worn down until it was nearly nonexistent and then covered with sand. A ring of logs formed the perimeter of it and doubled as a boundary and benches for those watching a fight. The arena was illuminated in the night by dancing torches placed periodically along the ring of it, several feet from the surrounding trees.
Dorian and Callum were in the middle of it, dueling playfully, laughing and jumping around more than actually fighting. Nick was sitting against one of the logs, halfway watching the fight and halfway talking to the three girls that had evidently come with them. Rory didn't recognize any of the girls, but they had the look of maids.
Dorian and Callum were mock dueling, throwing more insults than hits and continually looking over at the girls and blowing kisses or winking. The girls would laugh and respond, appropriately acting offended but the effect was diminished by their giggling and fluttering eyelashes.
Rory exited the path and came into the light cast by the torches, laughing at the two cousins before her. They twisted towards her as they heard her enter. "Leigh!" Dorian called to her, holding his sword up in greeting, "Long time, no see. I thought you must be dead."
She smiled, shaking her head, "Nope. Still living at the moment."
He nodded, dropping his arm, "Always better than the alternative."
She nodded back, arching her eyebrows. As she looked at them Callum's amused expression shifted to one of shock and horror, "Leigh!" he screamed.
Rory's eyes widened, "What?" her body tensed and she froze, expecting a bear to maul her from behind after his expression.
He continued to stare at her, "Your legs! They're.....they're....." he motioned to the lower part of her body, "They've disappeared."
The tension leaked from her body and she rolled her eyes, "You are so obnoxious." and she continued on towards them.
They came closer to her as well and each started circling her in a different direction, looking at her skirt. after a moment Dorian poked her leg, then picked lightly at her skirt, pulling at it before letting it drop from his hand. "Oh, no Callum. They're still here. They're just both in these single-legged trousers she's wearing." he stood up straight and looked at her from top to bottom. He picked up a strand of her hair, "and look, this has sprouted from her head."
"It's true." Callum stood in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest and tossing his head in an effort to get his dusty blonde hair out of his eyes, "Leigh, I've never seen you look like such a girl."
Rory slapped Dorian's hand away, "Could you control yourselves, really? Even in a skirt I could put you on the ground in about three seconds, so watch your tongue." Callum grinned wickedly, opening his mouth, but she cut him off, "Don't even think about saying it." He closed it, smirking lightly. She turned towards the four people sitting on the benches, "Hey Nick."
He nodded, "How are you Leigh?"
She nodded in answer, glancing at the three girls with him. They were staring at her wide eyed. One was leaning over whispering something into the ear of another. They didn't even attempt to hide the fact that they were talking about her. She fought the urge to blush and look away; instead she caught the eye of one and the girl just stared, her gaze calculating. It took her a moment to realize that Callum and Dorian were no longer talking, and it was the silence that resulted and caused an awkward tension that alerted her to the three men staring at her and the other girls present, uncertain of what to do. She blinked slowly, turning to the cousins before speaking playfully, "You should be resting for tomorrow, not showing off for women."
Callum jumped at the opportunity to break the tension, "Ha! Leigh, it's like you don't know us at all. We don't require rest. We function off of a never-ending supply of energy."
She grinned, rolling her eyes, "Yes, I'm sure you'll be laughing in about a week when you faint from exhaustion and starvation." Early the next morning she, Logan, and the current guard were taking the new men to the border between Hartford and Gildren, the country to the north. It was a test for them, they would be put into groups of four or five and given enough rations for four days. It took seven to get back to the city on foot. They would have to find their way back using the sky and with the swords and bows they took with them, catching their food and fighting ambushes set up by the current guards. She and Logan wouldn't be ambushing; they were coming straight back.
His eyebrow arched and he slid closer, "Oh?"
She nodded, arching her eyebrow at him as well, "Mhmm."
Dorian threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side, "Do tell us, love, if you think we'll die."
She laughed, "No, Dorian, I don't think you'll die."
His arm darted from her shoulders to lock around her waist, swinging her around to stand in front of him, "Yes, but-"
One of the girls sitting with Nick cut him off, "Callum, Dorian, we probably need to get back." the two cousins glanced over at them.
Callum smiled charmingly, leaning towards them, "So soon?" the one who had spoken smiled coyly at him, her eyelashes fluttering,
"Unfortunately." her voice was annoying.
"Ah, well." he walked slowly over towards her, holding out his hand to help her up. Nick aided the other two. "Oh!" Callum shook his head, "Please, excuse our atrocious manners." He motioned towards Rory, "Ladies, this is Leigh, she was one of us but her fragile constitution required that she be removed from service and now she works as one of our trainers-"
"Callum." she cut him off.
He turned towards her innocently, "Yes, love?"
"You are aware that at this distance I can hit you with my shoe hard enough to knock you unconscious?"
He grinned wickedly, turning back to the girls, "I'm sorry, she was so amazingly wonderful that the king couldn't stand the thought of having her in combat and losing her skill with " sword-" one of the girls, the one who had caught Rory's eye and been helped up by Callum, snickered behind her hand, "-and so," Callum continued, not picking up on the girl's amusement, "he made her a trainer." He looked up at Rory, motioning to the girls next to him, "Leigh, these are Megan, Cathy, and Lauren." Cathy was the one who seemed to like Callum, and not Rory.
She smiled politely anyway, nodding to them in greeting, "Hello."
One of the girls, Megan, who looked the youngest, smiled back, "You're more beautiful than I thought you would be."
Rory tilted her head, puzzled, "What?" She was uncertain whether she should be offended or take is as a compliment.
"You're beautiful." she shrugged, "When you think of a woman soldier you don't think of them being beautiful. I guess I should have known though, considering..." she trailed off.
Rory tilted her head forward, shaking it lightly, "Considering.....what?"
The girl opened her mouth uncertainly, shrugging her delicate shoulders again, "Well, the king, of course."
Rory stared at her for a moment, exhaling quietly, "What about him?"
"Well..." she trailed off, pressing her lips together nervously, "well he's with you constantly. Everyone says that...." she broke off again, biting her bottom lip at the menacing look on Rory's face. At least that was what Rory assumed she was frightened of.
Dorian, whose arm was still around Rory, rubbed her side gently, "Down, girl." he breathed into her ear. Rory's head snapped around and she stared at him for a moment before she felt her face relax on its own. Really, she was getting far too sensitive about Tristan.
She looked back to the girl, her expression now clear, "I know what everyone says, and it isn't true." The girl opened her mouth, eyes still wide with fear as if she thought Rory might fly across the ring and rip the life from her bones. She nodded frantically, unable to speak.
The three girls left then, the one leaving Callum with a scandalous good-bye kiss. Rory sighed, pressing her lips together. The three boys stared at her as if she'd sprouted another head, but waited for the maids to be out of hearing distance before they beg"n their inquisition. Rory glanced around at the burning torches, refusing to meet their gazes. A thick silence saturated with shock pushed in on them. It was Callum who spoke first, now standing next to her, "Well. I wasn't aware that the mere mention of the king would turn you into a murderous lion."
She snapped around to look at him, eyes narrowed, "What?"
His eyebrow arched and he grinned lightly, unfrightened of her like the girls had been, "But, judging by your reaction there is absolutely something to what everyone says."
Rory shook her head, folding her arms over her chest, "I don't know what you're talking about."
He laughed lightly, leaning closer to her, "You, darling, just had the look of someone possessed by the devil. at the mention of the king."
She rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips, "I just don't like loose maids." It was Nick who laughed out loud at that. Rory twisted to shoot him a glare, "What is so funny?"
He grinned at her, laughter still dancing across his face, "Leigh, I think Megan would turn to dust if she were ever kissed. She nearly cried when Dorian put his arm around her earlier today."
"Hey!" the younger of the cousins shot Nick a glare.
Nick and Callum both laughed again, "Really, Leigh, she is the farthest thing from loose that you could find."
"Exactly." Callum twisted her around to face him, "Besides, you were fine until she brought up the king."
Rory shrugged away from him, "People keep insinuating things, that's all. I'm tired of it." she crossed her arms, ignoring the silence that followed her comment.
Nick, who knew her better than the other two, leaned back on his heels, grinning at Callum conspiratorially, "I think there's something our little Leigh isn't telling us."
"Most definitely." Callum agreed, before turning towards his cousin,
"Wouldn't you agree, Dorian?"
The youngest of the three nodded, sliding closer to Rory, "Absolutely. In fact, I've heard a few rumors flying around, myself."
Rory's eyebrow arched, "Oh?"
He nodded, grinning at her, "Oh indeed."
"And what would those be?"
Dorian shrugged, sighing, "Oh, you know. Just that the king is in love with you. Bedding you. That he begged you to marry him but you refused." he began ticking off on his fingers, "I also heard that you asked him to forsake his crown and run away with you. That you were carrying his illegitimate child. That you told the queen mother that the two of you were in love and she couldn't do anything about it. That you convinced him to reject a marriage proposal from Rivenlear...." he trailed off, thinking. His forehead was creased as he stared at the ground, "Hmm. That's odd. I know there was another one....and it was good, too." he looked up to see that all three of them were staring at him as if he'd lost his mind. His head cocked back, "What?"
Rory erupted into laughter and Nick shook his head, laughing as well. But Callum just shook his head, "For the love of all that is holy, Dorian, do you spend all your time listening to the gossip-mongering old women in the servants' corridors, or do you ever do anything useful?"
Dorian rolled his eyes, "I don't believe you complained when I brought Cathy from the servants' corridor, now did you?"
"Mmm." Callum's expression changed and he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest thoughtfully, "No, that's true. On second thought, spend all the time you want entertaining the old bats. So long as you bring me those gorgeous young specimens." Rory rolled her eyes, scoffing, and Callum turned to her, smiling, "Now, now, Leigh. Don't be jealous. You know that although I may stray, my heart only belongs to you." he tilted his head, looking her over, "Especially now that you've turned into a woman on me. And a positively delicious one at that."
"Callum!" she screeched, hitting him in the chest hard enough that he staggered back a step, laughing.
"Oh Leigh," he grabbed her, swinging her around playfully, "you may be able to destroy me with a sword, but you forget I'm still bigger than you." she just laughed at him and rolled her eyes. She always forgot, after several days away from them, how much she missed spending time with the first three boys she'd met while she was here. And how very much she loved them.
Later that night Rory found herself still with them, lying on the sand of the practice arena and staring at patches of stars through the trees above. It had been just past dusk when she'd arrived to find them entertaining three maids, and now the moon was sharp and clear over their heads. after rounds and rounds of laughter and lighthearted banter they'd lapsed into silence, all laying on their backs and listening to the autumn breeze rustling through the forest around them. She was wrapped in a blanket that one of the maids had left. They laid with their heads close together so that they could converse easily, Callum was laying next to her.
She shivered against the breeze and he turned his head, "Cold?"
She shook her head lightly, "I'm fine."
"You sure?" he asked, laying his head back down to stare at the sky.
"Mhmm." she answered, relaxing into the blanket, "Really, though. You three do need your rest. You won't get much for the next week and a half."
"We are resting." Nick answered, "see? No moving. Not much talking. No thinking, really." Rory laughed and he continued, "We're practically asleep."
She opened her mouth, grinning, to respond, but didn't get the chance to as they heard footsteps on the path leading to the arena. They all stilled, listening. It wasn't realistic to say that there was danger headed for them, and even if the people on the path did intend them harm, it was unlikely that any would befall them considering the four of them, together especially, could probably take any combination of people who came at them. It was a reaction, though, to tense.
Rory and Nick sat up and the cousins followed suit, looking towards the path to see the light of a torch headed towards them. Two male voices could be heard talking lightly, laughing. Seemingly unaware that they were headed towards anyone at all. All four of them relaxed. "That's probably Logan," Dorian explained, "I think he comes around at night to make sure all of the torches are out so as not to burn down the forest."
Rory laughed lightly, "Good thinking."
He nodded, laying back down. The others stayed sitting, though. Rory pulled her knees to her chest and curled her arms around them, waiting for Logan and whoever else was with him to emerge. She didn't have to wait long. after only a moment he became visible and they saw who else was with him. Tristan plodded down the path with his cousin, his face light and his pace easy. She looked up at him before he noticed her, taking a second to glance over his messy, sun-lightened hair and strong jaw line, the defined bone structure of his face. His eyes almost glowed as they reflected the light of the torch Logan was carrying. His skin, like his hair, was colored by the sun; still a bronze tan despite the growing cold of the season. She wondered briefly if he usually came down here with Logan to extinguish the torches.
Once Logan and Tristan were in sight of the arena they looked up and saw the three guards-in-training and Rory sitting. Logan tilted the torch up as a greeting, "Ho Nick, Callum. Dorian." the other three, upon catching sight of Tristan, stood rapidly and bowed to one knee.
He waved his hand lightly, finding the formal greeting unnecessary in their current setting, "At ease." They looked up and stood, greeting the king politely.
Tristan and Logan came closer to them. It was Logan who spoke, "You four are up awfully late."
Nick nodded, "We were out here earlier practicing, then Leigh came and we lost track of time."
Logan looked down at her, tsk-ing playfully, "Distracting your charges, Leigh?"
She shook her head understandingly, playing along, "I told them hours ago to go to bed. They never listen. It's terrible, really. Blatant insubordination."
Logan glanced at the three men before him, his eyebrow raised in question. Tristan crossed his arms, leaning back on his heels as he glanced between Rory and Logan, amused. Dorian, Nick, and Callum looked between their friend and the king's cousin, uncertain of how to take the banter they weren't used to seeing. Callum raised his hand and kept it in the air. He opened his mouth for a moment before he spoke, motioning to Rory, "Is she really ranked? I mean, does it actually count as insubordination?" No one answered.
She stared up at him, her face scrunched, "You know, Callum, sometimes when you talk, I wonder why you even speak."
Nick and Dorian laughed, stepping back and laughing harder at the pretended hurt on Callum's face. Logan smirked, "You know, Danes, I wonder the same thing."
Rory laughed and in the process looked over at Tristan unintentionally. He caught her eye and held it, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was light, not quite as amused as the rest of them because he wasn't as involved with Nick and the cousins as Rory and Logan were. He wasn't staring at her, exactly, but watching her briefly. The look in his gaze made her body heat up. She bit her lip, breaking eye contact, but she could still feel him looking at her. She felt his eyes on her body and it made her tingle strangely, but not unpleasantly.
The six of them conversed briefly before Logan looked up at the sky, "We have to leave early in the morning. You three might really want to get to sleep."
At the mention of it Nick yawned, nodding, "Yes, true." he turned back to his childhood friend, "Goodnight Leigh."
She smiled, "Sleep well, Nick."
"Do you want to come back with us?" he asked.
Rory opened her mouth hesitantly and glanced up at the two blondes before her, uncertain of whether by staying she would be intruding. It took only a split second to interpret the guarded look on Tristan's face, "No, I'm fine." she smiled up at him, "I'll go back with Logan and Tristan." He glanced at the two men in question uncertainly before smiling at her and nodding. Dorian and Callum bid her goodnight as well and nodded to the king and his cousin before heading back up the path.
Logan leaned back, stretching and groaning lightly, "Tomorrow's going to be a long day." he said quietly.
Rory nodded, running a hand through her hair to push it back from her face. "And the next."
"And the next." Logan added.
"And the next." she finished, sighing. They would be taking the men to the edge of Hartford's territory, it was a two day ride by horse each way.
He glanced down at her and nodded, yawning as well, "Very long."
Rory pulled the blanket tighter around herself, surprisingly not tired despite all the yawning around her. She glanced up at Tristan, who appeared wide awake as well. When he looked over and saw her eyes on him he smiled gently, holding a hand out to her. She took it, her skin warming on contact with his rough, tanned fingers, and he pulled her up, wrapping his other arm around her waist to steady her. "Thank you." she whispered.
"You're welcome." she was steady, but his hand didn't move from her back. Instead she found herself closer to him than would have been absolutely necessary for simply pulling her up from the ground. She wasn't complaining though.
Logan said nothing and Rory had the distinct impression that he was staring. Or else going through pains to look away from them. He started to make a humming noise in the back of his throat, "I have to put out these torches...." he trailed off, looking over at Tristan with a smiled that asked a favor all in itself.
Tristan rolled his eyes lightly, not really annoyed, "I'll put the torches out for you."
Logan grinned, "Lovely sir, really."
"Yeah yeah."
He stepped closer to them, "Well, I'm off. I have to wake up early in the morning. Leigh, you can sleep in the carriage tomorrow so take your time." She narrowed her eyes and he laughed, stepping back, "Hey, hey. Maybe I meant walking back." he motioned behind him, "That path can be treacherous. It would be so unfortunate if you fell and twisted something."
Her eyebrow arched, "Logan."
"Hmm?"
"That path doesn't even have grass, it's so worn down. There is nothing on it that's going to knock me over."
He grinned, clucking his tongue, "You never know." he took a step back, "But, I need to get to sleep. So Leigh, I will see you in the morning." he turned to his cousin, saluting, "Tris, maybe tomorrow, maybe in four days, who knows?"
Tristan nodded to him, "Don't hurt yourself on the way back."
Logan's head fell back and he laughed, turning from them and heading back up the path. They still heard him laughing until the light of his torch was almost swallowed by the trees. A silence fell between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. Rory pulled her blanket tighter around her, resting her forehead on Tristan's shoulder. She felt him shift minutely in surprise but he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing his hands on her back, "Are you cold?" he asked.
She relaxed into him, shaking her head against his shoulder. He kept his arms around her anyway, turning his face into her hair. He inhaled deeply, but silently, breathing her in. She smelled like jasmine and lavender. The skin of her cheek was soft as the edge of his jaw brushed against it and the feel of her pressed against him, despite the fact that there were several layers separating them, made his body warm.
"So you're going with them in the morning?" he asked.
She nodded against him again, eyes closed as she spoke, "Yes. I'm not staying behind to test them, though. Neither is Logan. The guard is going to do all that."
He nodded, laying a kiss on the crown of her head, "How do you like your dog?"
Rory grinned, pulling back to look at him, "He's cute."
Tristan laughed out loud, "Is he?"
She nodded, "Mhmm. I like him very much, thank you."
The king nodded, his eyebrow arching, and she couldn't decide if he was mocking her of just amused, "Have you named him yet?"
"Duke."
The corner of his lip twitched in amusement, "Duke?"
She nodded, "Duke."
Tristan nodded thoughtfully, "Duke."
Rory nudged his chest gently, laughing, "Stop."
His mouth turned up at the corners, unable to push down his amusement, "What?"
"You're mocking me." she couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice.
His face twisted into insincere shock, "What? Mocking you? I would never."
She rolled her eyes, stepping out of his arms, "Yes you would."
"No, I'd be far too nervous to mock you. You might pull a sword from your bodice and run me through."
Her eyebrows arched and she opened her arms, holding the blanket away from her body. She glanced down, "You think I could hide one in here?" she asked thoughtfully.
There was no reply.
Rory looked up in the silence to see that Tristan was watching her. His expression was unreadable. He was staring at her, not in the hungry way she'd expected, but thoughtfully, as if he were trying to read her body. She pressed her lips together, letting her arms drop. His eyes shifted up to her face, "You have a scar." he said quietly.
Rory blinked in surprise, taken aback. She glanced down at her chest. Over the flat part, just under her collar bone, was a faint line that she'd accidentally inflicted on herself six years ago when she dropped one of Luke's knives. It hadn't been a terribly bad cut and had healed well, but there was a thin milky scar to remind her of it. "I can't believe you noticed that." she said quietly, turning her face towards him, "It's barely noticeable during the day, let alone at night."
Tristan came closer to her, his eyes locked on the scar, raising his hand. She stared at him, unable to move as he brushed the back of his fingers down the three-inch line. His eyes narrowed in concentration, "How did you get it?"
She wanted to look at his hand but lacked the physical ability to break her eyes away from his face, "I was putting my father's knives on a high shelf and one slipped. I was twelve."
His gaze snapped up to her face and she inhaled sharply, struck by his closeness and the brightness of his eyes. His skin against hers. "and all you got was this? You were lucky."
She nodded slowly, biting her lip, "Yes, I was." She fell silent and he seemed to feel no need to fill it. They stood without speaking, gazes locked as the back of Tristan's fingers rested against her collarbone. After a heavy moment Rory spoke, "You're not used to this, are you?"
"To what?"
"Having to wait." Tristan shook his head lightly, sliding his hand from her chest,
"What?"
"Having to wait for someone you want. You aren't used to it, are you?" She asked quietly.
His head tilted fractionally and he leaned away from her, crossing his arms over his chest, "Having to wait for someone that I want? What do you mean by that?"
Rory sighed, cursing herself mentally for breaking the moment, "Well, you're used to getting what you want, when you want it, from women. It's new for you to have to wait."
"Ah." he tilted his head towards her, "and what is it, exactly, that you think I want out of you?" She stared at him for a moment before opening her mouth. But she couldn't bring herself to say it and so she glanced down, blushing. She felt him move closer to her, dry amusement radiated from him, "Leigh." he said quietly, not quite a whisper, but into her ear, "If what wanted was for you to go to bed with me, it would have happened by now."
Her head snapped up, surprised, "Excuse me?"
Tristan grinned at the indignance that crackled behind her eyes, "I said, if my goal was to make you want to go to bed with me, it would have happened already."
Rory snorted, not sure of how she should feel but thought if best to act offended, "You know Tristan, I think that you have too much confidence in your abilities." she pulled the blanket from around her shoulders and let it drop to the ground.
He smirked, leering towards her, "Do you? I disagree."
She rolled her eyes and shook her head, stepping around him towards the path that led back to the castle, "Yes, I do."
She had only walked a few paces when she felt his fingers wrap around her arm, swinging her back towards him, "You honestly don't believe that I could make you want to go to bed with me?" The leering and mocking were gone, replaced with amusement and something she'd rarely seen in him. There was a challenge shimmering in his gaze.
She stared back and answered with more confidence than she felt, "No."
He walked towards her, "No?" he questioned quietly.
Rory shook her head, backing up, "No." her back hit a tree.
Tristan grinned, coming to a stop in front of her. He raised his hands and she felt her stomach flutter. But he didn't touch her. His palms came to rest on the rough bark of the tree on either side of her head. He leaned down, his lips a breath away from hers, and she gasped inaudibly, her breathing speeding up. The corner of Tristan's lip curled as he registered her reaction. "No?" he breathed again.
There was something about his lips. Something so mesmerizing. She'd never noticed it before. They were soft. and full. They were smooth and perfectly shaped, when he spoke or smiled they revealed flashes of perfectly straight white teeth. His lips were smooth and warm and so close to hers she could almost feel them moving. She couldn't look away from them. She was hypersensitive to his body positioned so closely to hers. The smell of his hair and his skin, like the breeze and waterfalls and sweat and the sun. The feel of his skin that was almost touching hers, like music and bed sheets and heat.
She blinked slowly, aware that he'd repeated his challenge. Her gaze slowly rose to lock with his. He was staring at her, still amused, but there was something else. Something deeper that she couldn't name, "No."
Tristan's laugh was so light she almost didn't hear it before he'd leaned down the last inch and captured her lips in his. She didn't bother resisting, knowing that it would be useless to try to convince her body to pull away. Instead she inhaled deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck in reaction. His hands came off of the trunk behind her; one wound around her back and the other came to hold the side of her face, tilting her head up towards him as he pushed her back against the tree with his body. Rory shivered, her body reacting as he pushed his deliciously against hers. The bark of the tree was rough against her back but she barely felt it as every particle of her was consumed in Tristan's lips and his body and his hands.
She felt his tongue against her lip, felt him pull her bottom lip between his teeth and release it slowly, scraping his teeth over the sensitive skin. It tickled strangely and stirred a heat deep in the pit of her stomach. Her closed eyelids fluttered and she raised up on her tip toes, kissing him harder. She felt him grin against her lips and tilt her head back more before his tongue swept over her lips. She opened her mouth instinctively, not even realizing what she was doing until she felt his chest shudder against hers. and then she felt his lip in her mouth, felt her teeth running over the gentle swell of his bottom lip. She wasn't sure what to do; her mind seemed to be frozen but her body was, shockingly, carrying on as if it knew perfectly well what it was supposed to be doing and didn't need her mind at all. She felt the tree pushed hard against her back but her neck moved; her head pull back lightly, taking Tristan's lip with it, and he followed her, leaning down eagerly to keep his lips connected to hers. Tristan's body was hard against hers and she felt the shock ripple all through him at her provocative emulation of what he'd done earlier. A wicked, carnal grin slinked it's way onto her lips as a groan bubbled from the back of Tristan's throat and he shifted forward, the shock fading from him as he pushed her harder into the tree trunk, his body pressed so closely against hers that she felt every inch of him. The pressure of his hands increased on her back and her face and pulled her lips towards his roughly, unable to stand her teasing any longer.
She felt herself melt against him as his hands slid down her body, his lips hard and fervent against her own. His hand broke from her face to move down her body, gliding over her shoulder and down her side, the pressure never letting up or lessening. She felt his fingers rake over her hip and slide down her thighs until his hands came to just above her knees. She didn't think as he clutched her skirt in his hands, pulling it back up her leg. Fire scorched its way up her body as he touched her in places no one else ever had. She'd never thought much of how the back of her upper leg could bring a tingling, rushing sensation throughout her whole body, but it could. She couldn't think straight, couldn't think at all. She didn't even have the ability to protest as he pulled up her skirt. His hands were still pushing against her legs, the pressure forcing her to remember who he was and what he was capable of. His hands came back up her legs, sections of her skirt riding up with them, until he came to the top of her thighs. She barely had time to think as, in one swift motion, he'd grasped the back of her thighs and lifted her off the ground. She gasped loudly, tightening her grip on his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist in reaction.
Tristan pushed her back against the tree again to help support her. She could feel his rough, warm hands through the cloth of her skirt and somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that he'd only pulled it up so that she could get her legs around him.
Nearly all conscious thought was suspended. She felt the tree at her back, Tristan's hands on her thighs, his lips moving roughly against hers, his body pushed intimately against hers so that she felt everything. But no thought. She didn't spare a moment to consider that fact that she was wrapped around a man with her skirt pulled up nearly to her knees, his hands grasping her legs in dangerous proximity and his lips fused to hers in a most carnal and wicked fashion. She didn't think about the fact that the king had her, alone, at night, pushed against a tree with his hips positioned intimately against hers, separated by only a few thin layers of cotton and wool. And she felt everything that she shouldn't have been able to until marriage. His lips were hard and demanding against hers, forcing her mouth open, deepening the kiss if it were possible.
Time seemed to have disappeared to the same place her thoughts went, because she didn't have any idea how long he'd had her hitched around his waist, his lips rough against hers. and when she pulled away to gasp, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed, Tristan didn't miss a beat, but slid his tongue tantalizingly down her exposed throat. She heard a sound escape from her throat, but it was guttural and unintelligible. A sound she'd never made before. She felt him grin against the pulse at the base of her neck before his teeth scraped across her skin, sucking it gently. She let out a small cry, half wanton and half shock. She was surprised by the small thrum of pain that streaked from the bite, but it wasn't a bad pain. Tristan traced slow, full kisses over the bite, his lips soothing her skin. His mouth didn't stay there, though. It trailed over her shoulder, nudging the sleeve of her dress aside so that he could reach the rarely-exposed skin. It happened again and again, or things similar to it. More than once she had to break her lips from his to increase the flow of oxygen to her lungs, but his mouth never moved from her skin.
She had no idea of the passage of time or what was happening in the world around them until she was pulled from her stupor of lasciviousness when Tristan's body broke away from hers. She let out a small whimper of protest as her legs fell from around his waist and her feet hit the ground lightly. His lips slid from hers as well but they didn't go far; rather, they trailed over her cheekbone. She shivered as he pulled her earlobe between his teeth. Her arms were no longer around his neck but on his chest, clenching the material of his shirt as she tilted her head to the side, giving him more room. "Tristan." she breathed, protesting. She felt him grin against her ear and then his lips were off of her. He grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around swiftly. Rory felt a gasp escape before she could stop it. She didn't have time to think or react before she felt Tristan's hands over hers and then the rough bark of the tree was under her palms, Tristan's hands covering hers on the trunk. She felt the warmth of his breath on her right ear, his chin brushing her right shoulder. His left hand, quick as lightning, was tangled in her hair and he was turning her face towards him, fusing her lips against his again. She inhaled deeply, unsure if her body was capable of handling so much intensity in so short a time.
The line of his body was hard against her back. She could feel him. His solid chest pushed into her shoulders and his washboard abdomen against her back. His knees must have been bent because despite the fact that he was a good six inches taller than her, she felt the curve of his hips snugly against her backside and the tops of his legs pressed against the backs of her thighs. This kiss was deeper than when she'd been against the tree, slower and less desperate. He moved his lips fully against hers, not rough or harsh, but still deep and demanding. This kiss was warmer. She still reeled from the shock of his sudden change in position. The faint thought hat she was amazed at how he maneuvered her body like she weighed nothing and were as flexible as a doll flew fleetingly through her mind, but it was drowned out as she felt his grip on her hair tighten. Rory kissed Tristan back slowly, opening her mouth to suck his bottom lip between her teeth. She felt him shiver and his hand against her own on the tree, as well as the one holding her hair, clenched reflexively, as if she'd his a pleasure point. At his reaction her body responded on its own again, her hands pushing against the tree to press her body back against his. This new position, with him pressed so closely behind her coupled with her ability to push closer against him, affected her differently than kissing him before had. There was something about the way his body hit hers at this angle that made the now-familiar fire roar in the pit of her stomach....and spread lower.
The gnawing at her core wasn't helped by the fact that Tristan's hand was slipping from the tree and trailing up her arm. He passed it over the curve of her shoulder, down her side to brush against the swell of her chest, over the inward curve of her waist and then over the spread of her hip. His hand rested there for a moment, his fingers gripping her hip bone in a torturous mix of pleasure and pain. She didn't think he realized how hard his fingers were against the thin layer of skin that separated her skirt from her bone. This, again, wasn't a bad pain though. His hand only stayed for a second and then it was gone, shocking her by trailing lower.
His mouth broke from hers to trail down her cheek, nipping at her jawline before connecting to her neck. She felt the pressure of his mouth increase as he pulled her skin between his teeth, marking her. Rory's head fell back, her breathing increasing as she gave him more room. She gasped, her fingers twitching against the bark of the tree as his hand slid from her hip, down her thigh. She felt the warmth of his hand through her skirt, but not the roughness she knew was there was well. His fingers and palm were hard against the front of her leg before sliding in and Rory's breath caught. His palm was warm, she could swear it was scorching through the material of her shirt as it slid dangerously up the inside of her thigh.
He stopped just before he touched her, his thumb brushing the junction of her leg and her pelvis. She whimpered, his name falling from her lips as she pushed harder back against him, not even knowing what she was asking for but certain that he did. She felt his hand hot and hard against her, his teeth and lips and tongue on the skin of her neck and shoulder as she shifted her lower body, trapped between his hand and his hips, trying to relieve some of the torturous pressure he'd inflicted on her.
Suddenly, without warning, his lips broke from her skin and she felt his cool breath on her ear. It was a moment before he spoke. "You're right." he said quietly, his voice taking a moment to even out. She turned her face to look at him questioningly, her mind fogged. His eyes were affected, but bright; a mixture of arousal and amusement. He slid his hand from her thigh, bringing it to grasp her hip gently in a much more chaste hold. He slowly released her hair, "I don't think I could convince you to want to sleep with me." He dropped his hands completely from her body, taking a step back. His gaze stayed locked on hers, amusement twitching the corner of his mouth.
She twisted around but had to lean her back against the tree for support, glaring at him, "What?"
He shrugged, his expression of amusement a mask. "You were right. I must overestimate my abilities.
Rory blinked slowly, unsure of how to react. There was a burning in her stomach, no longer of passion and heat, but of anger. Annoyance. She shook her head, "Is this a game to you?" she demanded sharply.
Tristan tapped her temple lightly, "Everything is a game, Leigh. It's just about whether we realize it or not." She opened her mouth to speak but had no words. She knew, when he'd first kissed her, that it was in response to her challenge. But she wouldn't have dreamed that that was what the entire thing was about. Tristan must have seen the hurt flash in her gaze because in an instant he softened, stepping closer to her. "Leigh." he took her face in his hands, tilting it up towards his, "I didn't mean that like it sounded."
She shook her head again, still hurt, "So is that what all of it is to you? Every woman that you've ever touched? Me? That girl in the servants' wing today, Kira?"
Tristan stiffened as if he'd been burned. His hands turned to stone on her face. "What?" his voice was deathly quiet.
"That girl today." Rory repeated, ignoring the warning look in his eyes, "Is she a game to you too?"
He dropped his hands from her face, his voice hard, "I wouldn't call her a game."
Rory stared up at him, "So then you care about her?"
He snorted humorlessly, "No."
"No?"
"No." he answered.
"Then why do you always go back to her?" she pushed.
He shook his head, "What are you talking about?"
"If you don't care about her, and she isn't a game, then why do you always go back to her?"
"Go back to her?"
"Yes." she snapped, exasperated. "Why is this an ongoing affair if you don't care and she isn't a game?"
He scrunched his forehead as if warding off a headache, "I don't know, Leigh, I don't want to talk about her."
"Well I do." she insisted.
He sighed, "Leave it, Leigh. She doesn't mean anything." she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, "Three years, Tristan?"
He started, swinging around to face her, his eyes snapping, "What?"
Rory knew she should have been frightened of him, but she only became more indignant, "You've been sleeping with her for three years." she said quietly.
He stared at her, "Who told you that?"
Rory rolled her eyes, "It doesn't matter who told me. I'm asking whether she's a game to you."
"It was Matin, wasn't it?" it wasn't really a question.
"Tristan. That isn't what we're talking about. We're talking about the girl who was trying to have sex with you in the corridor today!" she yelled and then froze, her eyes widening. Tristan was unmoving, whatever he'd been about to say frozen on his face. He stared at her in shock. She realized her mistake as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She and Marty hadn't crossed them until after Kira had given up trying to seduce him. He had to know now that she'd been there before. Silence hung between them for an eternity.
Tristan shook his head again, "Leigh, I don't want to talk about her." he said firmly.
She pressed her lips together, watching him in the silence, "She's beautiful." she whispered finally.
Tristan's head snapped around to stare at her, surprised. "Is that why you're bringing her up?" he asked.
She looked up at him, "What?"
The anger and stony expression had drained from him, leaving him deflated but surprised, his gaze intense as he looked into her, "You're bringing her up because you're comparing yourself to her?"
Rory opened her mouth, blinking rapidly, caught off guard. She closed her mouth before shaking her head, "No." she sounded unconvincing even to herself.
Tristan crossed his arms over his chest leaning back on his heels, "Leigh." She sighed, looking away from him, but didn't respond. "Hey." she felt one of his hands curl under her chin, coaxing her gaze up to meet his, "Yes, I supposed she could be called beautiful, but there's nothing to her but a face. She's prurient, crude." he shook his head, pushing a lock of her hair from her face absentmindedly, "She has no endearing or amiable qualities." Rory glanced down, unable to keep her gaze locked onto his while his voice was so sincere and gentle. He continued anyway, "Leigh, her beauty is flat. The first time you see her is the best she ever looks. She isn't like you." he whispered. Rory felt her heart jolt, but she didn't respond, "Your beauty is so much more than your face or your body. It's your mind. Your spirit." she felt him shake his head, "You're kind. and you're selfless. You're so much smarter than almost anyone I've ever met and you speak what you believe." he pushed her chin up lightly so that she looked into his eyes, "The way you think, the way you move and laugh, and the way you fight make you so much more beautiful than she could ever hope be." he whispered, his voice painfully soft, "and every time I see you, it grows." He raised his other hand to trail gently through her hair, "You're nothing like her or anyone else that I've ever touched or even met. You don't need to compare yourself to her because there's no comparison, and you are anything but a game to me, Leigh."
She bit her lip, looking up at him through hooded eyes, "Anything?" she whispered.
He laughed gently, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "Anything."