Author's Note: And this is how a one shot becomes a three shot. haha. Enjoy.
I know its a bit shorter than the others. But, When has the Warrior Princess ever had as much to say as the Bard?
She brushes Argo down, readying the mare for the night, and tries not to think about what is probably happening back at the fire. His hands will roam, and the Bard will let them. Argo stamps a hoof as the brush digs in harder than is necessary. She whispers an apology, letting the Mare nuzzle her neck as she tries to clear her mind. Meditation was never her thing, however, and all she has resolved to do is interrupt them. She questions her motives as she returns to camp. Tomorrow they will act as if these nights don't happen. And maybe coming between them is unfair, and maybe she should just stop it, but he has his arms around what belongs to her. So she goes.
She cannot help but snap the twig as she comes closer. She wants them to know she is there. She wants to see the flinch she knows will accompany her presence, because all of them know how it should really be. But from the moment she enters the fire-light, she is caught. She licks her lips from the sheer intensity of that blazing green gaze.
The Warrior knows. Oh Gods, she knows. She sees the unadulterated lust in those eyes and wishes she could believe it were residual from the man who had been looking into them prior to her arrival. That would make it so much easier to walk away.
It is not easy, and she is not fine with it, but his face is turned away, giving them their private moment, and maybe it isn't so easy for him, either. And so she leaves, letting him have what they both so desperately want.
As she slips into the forestry, she knows that tonight, she will give in and resolve her own ache. Because there really is no one else she wants touching her. No one but her Bard.
She lays herself down on the ground, not bothering with anything beneath her, the way it was the first time she dreamed about taking the Bard. Her hands roam about, and she can't help the wicked grin on her face because she's forgotten what is and imagines what could be.
Her tongue laps across her wrist, and she takes the skin between her teeth and moans aloud. There will be a mark tomorrow, but no one will see it. No one will question. So she doesn't worry, choosing instead to concentrate on matching the ministrations of her fingers with those of her tongue. Convincing herself that the pleasure that rips through her body belongs not to her, but to a green eyed amazon.
Finished, but not nearly satisfied, she slips back into camp.
Which brings them to the unspoken rule of this.
She pretends she isn't trying not to look at the two feigning sleep. And all of them pretend that the Warrior is not crying herself to sleep tonight.
A/N: So, there you have it. Reviews are really nice. wink. :)