Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters are owned by Obsidian and a lot of other people and not me, except for a bear-lovin' ranger and an occasional NPC. Warning, "M" language ahead.
Chapter 22 What a Difference a Day Makes
Neeshka and Shandra swooped in on either side of Dee like a pair of hungry hawks attacking a pigeon later the next morning after she returned from taking the newest recruits on a five mile forced march with full field packs. They cornered her as she led the exhausted 'Cloaks into the Keep for breakfast.
"Well?" The tiefling asked impatiently as Dee accepted a steaming plate of raisin-studded oatcakes with a side of bacon and a heaping plateful for Cillian too.
"Well what?" Dee asked innocently as she poured a cup of coffee, knowing very well what she wanted.
Shandra whispered, "Everyone on the floor heard you arguing with Casavir last night—in his room."
Neeshka squealed, "Yeah, so what happened, why did you tell him to leave, and how was he? Something good must have happened, because he's still here!"
Dee rolled her eyes as she sat down at the Captain's table in the mess hall, and the two quickly pulled chairs over beside her and leaned in close. She pointedly ignored them, taking a few big bites, chewing thoroughly, and washing them down with coffee, but they wouldn't be dissuaded by her silence. With an exasperated sigh she said, "Look, nothing happened, alright? We talked, we agreed that there was something between us, we even kissed, but he still has doubts. And so do I, frankly. We're going to take it slowly. And besides, I don't want to jump into something I'll regret later like I did with Bishop." They grew quiet as Qara passed behind them with her breakfast tray, having only recently awakened. They nodded to one another, and Dee gestured to a seat at her table, but Qara muttered "riding lesson" and passed through the room.
Shandra snorted. "Riding lesson. The only thing she wants to ride is your master of horse."
Dee said gruffly, "Now what about that other matter we discussed?"
Neeshka pouted at Dee for a moment disappointed that there was nothing more forthcoming then replied, "I think we need to come up with a code name for her. I know! The dockside prostitute." Dee nearly choked on her coffee as Neeshka cleared her throat and gave her report. "After assisting Kana she spent some time reading in the library, mainly histories and law, oh and I also checked the books to see if she had left anyone a message or marked them in any way. She traded barbs with Sand, then she went for a walk on the grounds alone but spoke to Sir Nevalle briefly, she skipped dinner and went to her room early where she drank a whole bottle of Berdusk Firewine as she took a bath, pumiced her feet and painted her nails. Then she read a really trashy romance novel in bed that she hides under her mattress until she fell asleep."
She took a drink of Dee's coffee and continued. "There's nothing but a few more slutty dresses in her wardrobe though she has some really cute shoes, but she has freakishly tiny feet!" Neeshka pouted again and her tail drooped, because she had longed to 'borrow' the red pair with the bows. "Oh, and nothing radiated magic. No hidden compartments in her travel bag or hidden pockets in her clothes. I'd guess Nasher would've had Arin Gend check all of that anyway." She grinned at Dee like a child looking for approval and added, "Oh, and I found a secret passage near the kitchen pantry and another escape tunnel in the lower level, but it's full of rubble and bugs. You should send the spider down it to clear it out, and then I get first pick of what I find."
Dee considered this as she ate her breakfast. "Good idea Neesh, but I want Khel to take a look at the stability of the tunnel before anyone goes down it, including Kistrel. Ain't a better expert on ancient stonework than a dwarf. We really need to come up with a better code name for her than 'dockside prostitute' too. That one's too easy to figure out."
Shandra swallowed a gulp of her coffee and whispered, "Something to reflect her sparkling personality?"
Neeshka giggled. "Her personality? How about Bitchy?"
Dee shrugged and whispered, "Sparkle is probably expecting we're having her watched; I know I would if I were her, so keep it casual for a while until she lets her guard down. I'll speak to Kistrel after you show me that tunnel, if you're finished with the interrogation."
Shandra leaned in close and asked insinuatingly, "Well, how does he kiss? Did you enjoy the taste of his tongue?"
Dee shrugged. "We haven't gotten that far...yet. Mayhap tonight. We're supposed to have supper together and go dancin' at the Phoenix Tail. She grinned and added, "That'll let us get to know one another better, and I just might get a chance to test the flavor of his tongue when he walks me back to my room." She sat back scratching Cillian's head behind his ears absently before she continued. "I figured out while we talked 'tis more than shyness with him. I got the feelin' last night he's been badly hurt, so I have to help him heal before there can be a hope of somethin' more between us. He opened up to me, but I'm afraid if I push for too much too fast, he'll just close down again. It's just like with an injured or mistreated animal; you have to earn its trust first, and it'll open up to you naturally." She sighed softly at the eye roll from Neeshka and added, "I've got to talk to Bish too. He shouldn't hear about us from anyone else, so we decided to keep it quiet until I get back from Neverwinter and Bish gets back from hunting."
Little did she suspect that Bishop wasn't off hunting at all. He instead had gone to Neverwinter in part to make sure Duncan kept his big mouth shut, lay a few blond tarts, and see what dirt he could dig up on the despised paladin. He had some success on that particular aspect of his hunt, though he dismissed the gossip about the paladin and Ophala as too ludicrous to believe. True, she was a good looking wench, half-elven so it was hard to tell how old she was, but she had to be old enough to be his grandmother. He dismissed the rumor, unless the paladin was into that kind of kink. But he knew from experience most gossip has some basis in fact, and he determined to ferret the true story out. His hunt was rewarded the next morning when he was directed to a seedy brothel on the edge of the Merchant Quarter near the Dolphin Bridge. He knocked at the door, and after a few words and a few gold pieces given to the toothless crone who answered, he was ushered inside.
After some time a small, wasted looking blond woman in her early thirties wearing a gaudy loosely belted dressing gown sashayed down the stairs. He didn't have to get close enough to smell the wench to know she had a serious black lotus addiction. He could see it in her flat, hard eyes. She looked him over and said haughtily, "I don't usually take customers this early, but I understand all you want is information."
He turned on his most charming smile and said, "I can pay more if you're the one who used to dance at the Boar's Bristle who goes by 'Little Ophala?' I understand you know a paladin of Tyr named Casavir?"
She smiled seductively at him at the thought of earning more gold without having to do anything for it, though she wouldn't mind giving the handsome woodsman a tumble. "I used to go by that name before she...complained." In truth, Ophala Cheldarstorn had a 'cease and desist' writ delivered and threatened to sue if she didn't stop using her name. "Casavir...I can't believe he's even alive! Last I heard he ran off to some gods forsaken outpost. Come upstairs to my room and I'll tell you all about Casavir of Tyr."
His cruel smile was like that of a boy who has captured a butterfly to torture as he mulled over what he had learned the next day on his way back to Crossroads Keep. He got dirt on His Holiness and then some. He chortled with glee as he remembered her words—"He didn't last long the first few times." On the one hand he tried to convince himself there was nothing going on between the paladin and Dee, yet there was something in the way they looked at one another and those sly smiles they shared when they thought no one was looking. And because she was a wench, he could trust her about as far as he could throw her bear.
On the other hand, he cursed himself for caring that this meant it was truly over with her. Let her screw someone else! He wanted it over! What chafed his hide though was her picking him of all the men in the Keep, as if she had done it out of spite. He grumbled to Karnwyr, "She's too damn tall and getting too skinny anyway. His Holiness probably still doesn't even know what to do with his cock either, but that fickle swamp wench likes it way too much to put up with that for long. I give him a tenday before she tires of him and throws him over."
Dee was on her way into the Keep for yet another rousing session of paperwork before an afternoon training session with the newest recruits, but she had stopped to bring Blossom an apple as a treat and had brought one for Thunder too. She was about to leave when she spotted Casavir coming in on the other side of the stable, and she smiled at him and waved him over. He strode over to her, grinning shyly, and looked around and hesitated for only a moment before he gave her a soft peck on the cheek. "You seem to be winning my horse's affections."
She sighed happily and thought, "What a difference a day makes. I'd never have guessed yesterday that today he'd be kissing me so freely." Thunder finished his apple and nuzzled her on her other cheek. "I couldn't very well bring one to Blossom and not Thunder. But I'll not have truly won his affections until he lets me ride him." She felt her cheeks burn crimson, and she felt foolish that every conversation with him seemed to be mined with double meanings. She wasn't like this with anyone else; she could comfortably converse with nearly anyone from the fishmongers on the docks to Lord Nasher himself, but when it came to Casavir, she felt like she was always saying the wrong thing.
She sprinted to her room from the practice field that evening drenched with sweat and gladly accepted the aid of the servants in choosing black velvet leggings, a delicate white handkerchief linen shirt with a keyhole opening in the front that tied with silk ribbon, and her peacock blue watered silk bodice (even though it didn't fit her right anymore, but its color brought out her eyes). She dug through the drawer unable to decide which small clothes to wear and finally chose the white silk ones trimmed with heavy Cormyran lace. One of the servants, an elderly widow named Mrs. Fairfax, clucked approvingly. Dee made a mental note that she needed to go shopping when she was in the city and replace some of Bishop's favorites, that is the ones that hadn't vanished that she suspected he had taken. She wondered if this was a rite observed by other women when they took a new lover (not that they were lovers, she reminded herself), but she wasn't about to ask her friends and give them more fodder for gossip.
As Mrs. Fairfax was skilled with a needle, she offered to take the bodice in while the other servant, a small, curly haired girl named Shae polished Dee's new boots so she could take a hasty bath and wash her hair. It had taken her some time getting used to having servants, and she was still reluctant to let them do anything for her she could do herself, but it was pointed out by Neeshka that she was paying them well to work at the Keep, as much as they would earn in the city (with a whole day off a tenday, not just half a day) so she might as well get something for her money. Dee brushed her hair dry until it shone after she dressed and smudged a thin line of kohl around her eyes and added just a touch of color to her cheeks and lips. She picked up her spectacles then thought better of it and lay them back in their case on the dresser. As she thanked them and strode out the door with Cillian at her side, Mrs. Fairfax whispered loudly to the other as soon as she thought Dee was out of earshot, "I'll turn down the Captain's bed while you lay out that pretty lacy nightgown across the back of that chair, but between you and me, it's likely to be layin' there untouched in the morning."
Casavir was waiting for her at the Inn as they had arranged that morning in the hallway at Lathander's first light. Shandra and Neeshka were both there 'helping' the widow move furniture from one of the storerooms, and Sand and Khelgar also seemed to be sitting together for no particular reason. Khelgar was blushing all the way up his bald head and unable to make eye contact, and Sand was toying with a goblet of wine and smirked at her when she caught his eye. Elanee and Zhaeve were sitting together near the kitchen, and Grobnar was strumming softly on his lute as one of the off-duty 'Cloaks played along on a hornpipe. Even Torio Claven was there sitting with Sir Nevalle. Dee smiled fondly at Nevalle, and he nodded back. She reminded herself to tell him later that it was very kind of him to provide Torio Claven with a dinner companion so she wouldn't have to spend the evening in her room alone.
Casavir's smile lit up his face as soon as he spotted her and he stood as she walked up to the table. She gave him a quick kiss and took a seat and her friends and half the tavern burst out in applause, and she felt herself blushing and grinning as inanely as Sand had observed earlier. So much for keeping it quiet or taking it slowly. He took her hand and kissed it and said softly, "I know you said flowers are customary, but I couldn't find anything save a lonely rose struggling against the cold, and I didn't have the heart to pluck it."
She laughed and gave him another kiss on the cheek for that. "I didn't really have my heart set on flowers this time of year even though 'tis been a mild winter, but I appreciate the thought." He was dressed in a slate gray woolen doublet with silver buttons that looked like they had been recently polished and tight black breeches, and she couldn't hope but notice how they molded to the sculpted muscles of his legs. He must have shaved before he walked over; he smelled of sandalwood shaving soap and some sort of rosemary infused hair oil he had used to try to tame the soft curl of his hair.
She saw a few sketches on the table done with a charcoal pencil as she sat and exclaimed, "I didn't know you could draw, Cas! There's so much I don't know about you, and so much I want to discover!"
He flushed and said dismissively as he pushed them aside, "They're rather rough, but my father always told us it's important to have an idea of what you wish to accomplish before you touch the chisel to the stone. Jarral, my father's friend, has offered to make the image of Chantea for the shrine and help me with Meilikki, and he knows where he can get us some rose marble."
She smiled and picked them up to examine them more closely, "These are better than the stick figures which is all I can accomplish. You did these while you were waiting? I'm impressed!" She gave him yet another kiss on the cheek. "This one is Mielikki, and the one in the robe is Chantea?" The former was of a tall woman in leather armor with a quiver at her waist holding a bow in one hand. The latter was of a woman with long flower-studded hair falling below her shoulders holding a sheaf of grain in her arms. "The only suggestion I'd make to Jarral would be to make her hips fuller and her tits rounder." She chuckled at his furious blushing and added, "Well, it is Chantea, after all."
The Inn was rapidly filling up with Veedle's laborers and a few off-duty 'Cloaks. Sal hustled over carrying a tray laden with two bowls and spoons, a tureen containing the special of the day—a rich creamy seafood chowder—another dish of baby artichokes and garlic cloves swimming in a lemon butter sauce, and a round loaf of hot fresh-baked bread in a basket slung on one arm. His cook brought over a bucket of fish heads and entrails for Cillian, who tucked in right away, happy that the two leggeds weren't smart enough to eat the best parts. Sal deftly set it all before them and ran off for their drinks. Dee ladled him a bowlful then herself, and they ate quietly for a few minutes casting furtive glances at one another between spoonfuls until Dee broke the silence as she sliced them some bread. "The widow was talkin' about wanting to have a dinner service nightly in the main room of the festhall and have a few private dining rooms as well. She's plannin' to offer what she called 'fine dining' like at the Mask while Sal caters to the common folk. I guess we'll be expected to eat there, but give me Sal's stews and chowders any day."
Casavir replied softly as he glanced around the noisy tavern and toyed with his chowder, "I can understand the need for privacy and quiet conversation." He flushed and looked down as he realized what he had said. "That was rude. I'm very sorry, my lady."
She chuckled and reached out, squeezed his hand and whispered, "That wasn't rude. 'Twas just your opinion, and sometimes I agree with you. But you must have gathered by now that I like bein' in the midst of a crowd...some of the time." She glanced at their companions, most of whom had moved together to a table nearby and were trying to look casual as they nursed their drinks. Sal brought over a bottle of sparkling wine and two thin goblets, and Casavir took the liberty of pouring for them both. She finished her chowder and took a sip of the wine while he still picked at his grimly then turned to the artichokes and bread, which seemed to be more to his liking. She had heard somewhere that artichokes and garlic, like the oysters in the chowder, were reputed to increase a man's passion, but she decided to keep that to herself. She speared one of the artichokes and took a bite as she watched him eat. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"
He shrugged and looked down. "It doesn't matter." He attacked the bowl as grimly and methodically as if he was fighting a squad of undead as she ate a few more artichokes.
She frowned as she watched him then replied, "Why on Toril would you say that? Of course it matters. You don't have to eat something if you don't like it, or you could slip it to Cill when no one is lookin'." Then it occurred to her that he must have been raised in the orphanage to eat whatever was put before him without complaint, and likely punished when he didn't. She took his free hand again. "I understand. The artichokes have too much butter in the sauce for my liking." She sighed wistfully. "I miss bein' out on the trail and livin' simply on whatever I find or catch sometimes. When I was a girl Daeghun had bowls of fruit and vegetables and nuts on hand most of the time, and fish and game when he caught it. We simply ate a bit of somethin' whenever we felt hunger. There were no set meals. Breakfast could be as simple as an apple or a carrot. It wasn't until he would leave me with the Starlings that I learned that the other villagers sat down to regular meals with bread and cooked most of their food, and Rhetta's hand to my backside taught me it was rude not to eat what was set before me. Still, we're not guests at someone's house, we're payin' customers, so you don't have to eat it."
He shrugged defensively and looked down at his bowl again. "I don't want to give Sal more work on my account when he's so busy. I understand what you mean. There is something very...pure about living off the land. That's one thing I miss about my time at Old Owl Well. As for the chowder," He struggled to find something to say. "It's very...filling and no doubt nourishing, and that's all that matters."
She shook her head and said emphatically, "No, it does matter, Cas." She thought, "You matter, whether you believe it or not." She smiled warmly at him and asked, "So tell me, what do you like, just so I know?"
He thought about it for a moment. "I like simple food, roasted meat or fish, and roasted potatoes. I don't care for soups, though they're effective for stretching a small amount of food to feed many...However, I don't mind a good venison or beef stew as long as the vegetables are not too mushy, and I like a kidney pie." He grimaced and flushed, and she realized how difficult it was for him to admit that much, and she smiled and squeezed his hand to encourage him to continue. "All right, what else? Let's see...I quite enjoyed that delicious apple tart your friend's mother made that we had for breakfast in West Harbor. I...wished at the time there was more of it, and I was glad you refused a piece and gave me yours. That was selfish of me, I know."
She gave his forearm an affectionate pat. "Gods, I was so queasy that morning. After the night before, more of Rhetta's tart was the last thing I wanted. Cas, don't be so hard on yourself. There's not a thing wrong with wantin' more of somethin' you like or turning down somethin' you don't. I loathe rutabagas and turnips, and look, I didn't eat them, see?" She neatly dumped the rest of her chowder into Cill's bucket all the while whistling innocently. "See how easy that was?" She leaned in to give him another kiss on the cheek just as he turned to face her, so she ended up finding his lips instead. He returned the kiss gently, holding her as if he was still afraid she would break if he touched her too hard. "Mmm, is that dessert?" she asked coyly before she kissed him again.
He flushed and glanced around. "We are not alone, m'lady."
She sat back and looked at him with her arms folded across her chest. "No, we're not. Now see, that's another thing. I don't mind public displays of affection, within reason. Daeghun said once I take after my mother that way. However, I'll compromise and restrain myself from testin' the strength of your tongue until we're alone tonight." She chuckled at his gasp. Grobnar began playing a lively tune, and Dee spun to face the gnome. "Chasin' the Butterfly! Ooh, I haven't danced that since the last Harvest Fair."
He made to stand with a grim expression like he'd rather be back at Old Owl Well about now and asked nervously, "Would you like to dance?"
She chuckled as Neeshka and Shandra made their way to the center of the room. "You're safe for now, my dear. 'Tis a women's dance." She watched them dance joined by one of the 'Cloaks, Shandra taking the lead as the 'butterfly' as the other two followed, trying to imitate her steps. After a few moments of watching, Dee jumped to her feet and with a few skips and kicks joined the chase while Casavir watched and then clapped in time with the other spectators.
Grobnar ended the song and signaled Sal for a refill of his drink, and Dee, flushed with the exertion, rejoined Casavir and took his hand. "I asked Grobby for a bransle next, if you're up for it. They're not refined like an alman or a pavan, but they're a lot more fun," she said with a grin as she pulled him to her. "Don't worry, Grobby'll walk us through the steps first."
His blue eyes twinkled merrily as he smiled at her. "Truthfully? I would much rather watch you dance all evening. However, I'll give it a go and will try not to mash your feet too badly, m'lady. Might I suggest Heart's Ease? It is a lovely pavan, and I should also like to ask Grobnar to play it since it's the only one I know. But we shall need another couple." He kissed her hand and let him lead her to the center of the room and the dancers formed a circle, holding hands and waiting for the music to start. Thinking back to the few sessions with the dance master Sir Grayson made her and his other squires attend, she wasn't altogether sure Heart's Ease was a pavan, but she wasn't going to argue.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you said you didn't dance."
He chuckled nervously. "I don't, or haven't since I was a young man, but I have watched when I was on guard duty at a few functions at court. I understand the steps."
"And I don't doubt you always wanted to join in," she thought wistfully.
They danced the Rufty Tufty and then the rowdy Gathering Peascods (which left him flustered in the third verse when he had to put his hands on her hips, lift her, and swing her from his left side to his right). Casavir caught on quickly and only stepped on her feet twice. After a break to catch their breaths and quench their thirst, they ended with Heart's Ease, with Sir Nevalle and Torio joining them. Dee gained a new appreciation for the flirtatiousness of the stately dance as they held hands and took a few forward steps, circled around one another, then stepped back, gazing into each other's eyes, and even when they faced the other couple and crossed diagonally to change partners, they found themselves watching one another over their partners' heads. She thought it would be quite a sight to see a ballroom full of people dancing in their best formal garb.
As the last few notes of the song played they bowed to one another, and he took her hand and led her back to the table. He said reluctantly, "It's been a truly delightful evening, but we have a long ride ahead of us. We should get to bed soon."
She smiled at his blush as he realized what he said and fought the impulse to reply, "I thought you'd never ask!" Instead she casually finished the last of her wine and pretended she hadn't heard the unintended innuendo. "You're right. These boots aren't quite broken in yet and I can't wait to get 'em off, and I'm startin' to feel that training session this afternoon. One of the new recruits—one of the Harbor boys—got around my defenses and hit me so hard on my shoulder that my left arm went numb and I dropped my short sword. It's starting to smart." She grimaced as she rubbed it. " I'm lucky it was only a practice weapon or I would've been disarmed. Shall we go?" She let him fasten her cloak and helped him with his.
He sighed softly in relief believing she hadn't observed his blunder. As he offered her his arm he grinned at her and said, "Disarmed, eh? I should look at your shoulder and make sure the bone wasn't chipped then heal it." He held the door for her and Cillian to pass. "I heard of a man once who took such a blow with a hammer, and the chipped bone became festered. They had to cut off his left arm at the shoulder, and what was worse, he had previously lost his left leg."
She turned to face him looking horrified as they walked up the path and said, "Poor man, how awful," when she saw that twinkle in his eye and his sly grin, and she knew she was being had.
He barely kept a straight face as he nudged her with his elbow and replied, "Don't fret, m'lady. He's all right now."
She stopped and stared at him open mouthed as the jest sunk in, then she elbowed him sharply in the side and chuckled. "Gods, Cas, that was so bad!"
He grunted then chuckled and replied, "Yes it was. It's entirely your fault, you know. You started it, and you bring it out in me." He boldly pulled her to him in the shadow of the smithy and gave her a kiss that she happily returned even as she wondered how different he might have been if not for the tragedy of his young life.
Cillian chuffed at them, tired, grumpy, and ready to get back to their den to sleep already. He would never figure out these strange mating rituals of the two leggeds.
Casavir walked her to her door where she put her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss and murmured "I had a lovely time tonight." She was sure Neeshka and Shandra, and probably Sand too, were somewhere nearby wasting a perfectly good Invisibility potion or scroll. Little did she know they were instead at that moment sitting at a table in one of the private dining rooms in Maisie Jon's place gathered closely around Sand, who was making an entirely inappropriate use of a scrying spell. She glanced at the guard down the hall and whispered, "Would you like to meet me in the solar after I get these boots off? We could have some privacy, and Selune is in her glory tonight."
She entered her room and immediately pulled off her boots sighing in relief before she removed her bodice and sighed again. She decided Mrs. Fairfax fixed her bodice too well, but at least she had some cleavage. She held up the nightgown laid out for her as Cillian made himself comfortable before the fire. But she rejected the nightgown thinking that would put too much pressure on him and she needed him to relax, so she lay it back across the chair. She put on her slippers, lit a lantern and untied the ribbon at the neck of her shirt. That would allow him to examine her shoulder without exposing too much, but she shivered in anticipation at the thought of his hands touching her bare skin. She pulled a light blanket around her shoulders against the cold and stepped out on the balcony and into the solar and had just enough time to arrange the light and the cushions on the divan before he hesitantly opened the door, peered inside, and stepped in. He had dressed for bed, donning a dove gray robe over his simple light gray flannel nightshirt, and she regretted now not getting ready for bed too. He beamed as he saw her there and tripped over the threshold.
You must like gray," she said, smiling at him and offering him a hand up.
He looked perplexed at his robe as if he just became aware of its color, as if he had previously been unaware that such a thing as color existed. "I suppose ...I certainly look like I must. I've never much thought about it, but I do find myself buying gray clothing. It's a...practical color."
"Practical yes, but do you like it? What's your favorite color?," she inquired as she patted the divan for him to sit beside her. "Come, let's sit here and you can look at my shoulder in the light."
He had to think about it for a moment before he replied, "I think...I like dark greens best, and the purple and blue of our Lord of course." There was something heartbreaking about the way he had to give it some thought, as if he had been denied even this small sense of self. She had seen the orphans at the temple dressed in their plain gray smocks, and she suddenly felt like crying. She shook it off but resolved then and there that she wanted to spend some time with him in the city discovering which things, large or small, gave him pleasure.
She slipped the sleeve off her shoulder and turned into the light so he could examine the ugly purple bruise. "Dark green...that would suit you too, not that you aren't handsome in gray or black, or Tyr's colors either. We'll have to find you a green doublet in the city."
She closed her eyes as he chanted softly and lay his hand on her shoulder and watched as the purple receded. Then he frowned as he probed the bone to make sure it was sound. "That was quite a blow, Dee."
She chuckled. "Yes, it was. That's what I get for playing 'King of the Mountain' with the new recruits and givin' them all a chance to whack the Captain. I 'killed' him with my long sword though. I think he'll make sergeant soon, and he's a natural for a hammer, so you should practice with him." She shivered at the feeling of his fingers on her skin and and his warm breath on her neck, and she could sense his lips before she felt them lightly brush against her cheek. She opened her eyes as he sat back beside her.
He smiled at her. "Yes, I would probably promote him too. The leader of your militia obviously took training very seriously." He murmured, "Are your feet still sore? I owe you a foot rub at the very least for the injury I've done to them this eve."
She grinned happily and said, "I don't have to be asked twice," and turned around stretching out on the divan and placing her feet across his thighs. Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to the sensation, shivering, arching her back and moaning softly with pleasure as he gently massaged first one then the other with his strong, calloused hands. What made it more delicious was the certainty that he was doing this strictly for her benefit without expecting anything in return and certainly not as a prelude to getting her into bed, though it was having that unintended effect anyway. She opened her eyes and said breathlessly as she gazed into his, "Thank you, my dear. How ever shall I repay you?"
Before he could speak she scooted in close beside him and kissed him on the lips, slipping her hand around to the back of his head to hold him close, placing the other hand on his chest over his pounding heart where she could feel the soft hair peeking out at his neck opening. He put his arms around her and returned the kiss then took her face in his hands and kissed her all over it worshipfully before returning to her lips again and again. She gently pressed her tongue against his lips to let him know they could go further. He tensed for a moment before he allowed her to deepen the kiss and returned it.
She ran her fingers through his coal black hair and struggled with an urgency get closer to him, to slip onto his lap or lean back and pull him down with her so that she could feel his weight upon her. But as passionately as he kissed her he still seemed as if he was struggling, his paladin side wrestling with his natural male instincts. He held her, one hand having moved down her back and kneading her hip where his thumb had found the skin under her shirt, but the other on flat against her shoulder as if he was trying to push her away. So she broke away and murmured, "Let's get some air. I think we're both gettin' rather heated, and I know how painful that is for a man if 'tis not relieved."
He look conflicted, profoundly relieved but disappointed at the same time, and he put his arm around her as she snuggled against him, slipping her arm around his narrow waist. There was something about her that invited frankness, so he answered her frankly. "It can be... uncomfortable depending on what one is wearing, but itcertainly isn't painful. Whoever told you that? Never mind, I know." It seemed perfectly in character that the ranger would take advantage of a woman's compassion and lack of experience to satisfy his own carnal desires.
As if she could read his thoughts, she said defensively for Bishop's sake but also for her own, "Wasn't just him. My boyfriend back in West Harbor used to say the same thing all the time, not that it got him farther than a few...caresses. He used to say I was evil for not givin' in and makin' him suffer." The temptation was there to ask him about his experience, or lack thereof, and she was troubled by the thought that he might see her as tainted because of her affair with Bishop. She tried to put that out of her mind; that was a discussion for another day, but at the same time she knew she couldn't put if off for long. If her past was to be an impediment to their happiness, it was better to find that out now.
She said earnestly as she gazed into his eyes, "I've only been with Bishop. But I messed around with Wyl some too..." As an afterthought she added, "Oh and I also kissed my friend Bevil when I was twelve, but it was just a couple of kisses, and I used to have the worst crush on Marshall Cormick when I was a girl. There hasn't been anyone else." He put his arm around her shoulder and held her close. She looked into his eyes and decided to go on boldly, get it all out in the open. "And what's more Cas, I liked it...and..." She had gone this far; there was no turning back. "Bish used to call me a lusty wench, and 'tis true. I like it. I don't believe those stories about paladins and sheets with holes cut in them, but I wouldn't be happy if...it...'twas for procreation only. I don't plan to procreate anytime soon." She watched his face nervously for his reaction.
He groaned and leaning forward, put his face in his hands and shook his head muttering, "That's the Ilmaterans, not Tyrrans. Why do people always get us confused or assume we're all like that?" He sat back and put his arm around her pulling her close again and hugged her to him. "Besides, if you think about it, that sheet with a hole sounds like it could cause chafing, not that an Ilmateran would mind that I suppose." She lay her head on his chest listening to his deep baritone as he stroked her hair. "Your past doesn't matter to me, Dee. I know Bishop was your first. Truth be told, he made a point of rubbing it in when you weren't with him trying to provoke me. I told him before and I meant it—he's a damned fool."
She looked up at him again and smiled sweetly. "That's good to hear. I was afraid of what you would think of me."
He silently caressed her hair for a few moments before he swallowed nervously and said, "I wouldn't blame you if you hated me, but ...as long as we're being honest..."