Author: Triane

Disclaimer: Not. Mine. Except Iona. Everything else belongs to someone else.

Summary: Dagonet and Iona get their groove back.

Several hours later, Iona lay in their bed, staring into the fire. Dagonet still hadn't returned from the twenty-minute task of checking on their horses and making sure their supplies were ready for the next day, and Iona was pretty sure she had worked out why.

It's not that he's casting aside something...dirty... It's that he doesn't want to hurt me anymore than I already have been. She ran over all the possible options again, continually arriving back at her first conclusion. He's willing to put what he wants aside to make sure that I'm alright. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized how considerate her husband was, but she dashed them away just as quickly as they appeared.

Of course, the big dolt just assumes what I need instead of talking about it. She chuckled slightly under her breath, watching the dancing flames. For the past three months, ever since her capture and rescue, Dagonet had been the soul of consideration and support. But when it came time for the man himself to get some rest, he chose to sleep in a chair by the fire, rather than in bed beside her. Iona had only caught him at it once, as he would make sure she was asleep before turning in himself, and always awoke before she did. She didn't think any of the other knights were aware, and he never slept in the stables - as that would make people talk - so as far as anyone knew, they were as solid as they ever had been. Except we're not. I miss my husband. I miss his body. Iona had barely resolved how to fix the problem when she heard footsteps in the hall outside. Carefully schooling her face into a mask of sleeping relaxation, she had only just closed her eyes before Dagonet quietly opened the door and entered, shutting the door just as quietly behind him.

For a long moment Iona felt his gaze on her, then felt the air shift as he took silent steps towards her, kneeling beside the bed. It took all her concentration to stay still as he caressed her face with a feather-light touch, pressing gentle kisses to her brow, her eyes, her cheek, and her lips. His voice was whisper-soft.

"I love you, Iona." Then he was standing and moving away from her, clearing his throat softly and positioning the chair in front of the fire. Iona cracked her eyes open the slightest bit to watch him stretch out his shoulders and back, rubbing at a chronic knot in his shoulder from wielding his sword. He stoked the fire and added another log, banking the flames so they would last far into the night. He retrieved a blanket from the chest at the end of their bed and folded his long frame into the chair that was much too small for him to sleep comfortably, draping the blanket over his legs, crossing his arms over his chest, and resting his head against the back of the chair. He cleared his throat again, shifted slightly, and was still.

When it was clear after a few minutes that Dagonet had no intention of moving, Iona sighed and threw back the covers, jumping out of bed and covering the distance between them to stand in front of her husband in the time it took for him to open his eyes. Dagonet's eyebrows flickered at her in surprise, and she tilted her head quizzically.

"A feather bed with a wife who loves you, and you choose to sleep in front of the fire in a chair that is nowhere near big enough to be comfortable." Dagonet pursed his lips slightly, and Iona could see the strain of months of improper sleep now etched into his eyes and face. She shook her head and climbed into his lap for the second time that day, this time straddling his legs and pulling his arms around her waist, wrapping her strong arms around his shoulders and pressing herself against him, their faces only inches apart. Her voice was low and light.

"The thought of touching me disgusts you now." Dagonet's response was instantaneous, a look of shock over his face and a startled reply.

"How could you ever think that?" Iona shrugged, a slight smile playing over her face as Dagonet's arms tightened around her.

"I don't. I just wanted a reaction." Dagonet pursed his lips at her and sighed. His voice was a rumble in his chest that Iona felt through the thin cloth of her shift.

"My body knows you, Ai. If we shared a bed...and I wasn't awake enough to realize... I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you or frightened you." Iona melted at the concern and fear he put into his words, drowning in the love and hesitancy in his eyes. She cupped his face in her small hands and placed a whisper of a kiss on his lips, her voice husky.

"What if I needed you to chase away the bad memories?" Dagonet's eyes flickered in surprise, and she smiled slowly, standing and pulling him to his feet.

"Here, husband. You've taken such good care of me. It's my turn now."

With gentle but business-like hands, Iona led Dagonet over to their bed and quickly stripped him of his clothes, directing him to lay on his stomach. His gaze was questioning until she climbed out of his range of vision, moving to straddle his hips so she had access to his entire back. Then, with slow, strong strokes, she started to massage - starting at his neck and arms, then moving to his shoulders and down to his waist until his whole back was like butter under her hands and he was purring like a lion kitten. Iona moved down to massage his thighs, calves, and feet, watching him grow so relaxed he looked like he was melting into the bed. She softly directed him to turn over to his back, and he obeyed mindlessly, rolling over with sigh and throwing one arm across her side of the bed, his eyes closed. Iona smirked at him, then crept up to the head of the bed again, studying his relaxed face for a moment before leaning down and tracing the line of his collarbone with the very tip of her tongue.

Dagonet's breathing changed instantly, although his eyes remained shut. Iona watched him with a half-smile on her lips and she continued to follow the definition of his muscles, sliding over his chest, down his breastbone, covering his torso with kisses and exploring his skin with her tongue. She scratched her nails lightly down his chest and hips, thrilling at the sound of his groan. Then for a long moment she paused, carefully sifting through what she was feeling, weighing what she wanted to do against what she thought she could do, and finding no discomfort or panic. After a minute she looked up to see that Dagonet had propped himself up on his elbows and was looking down at her, gauging her mood and waiting to see what she would do. Iona saw heated arousal in his eyes, but also saw patience and consideration and love, and her lips slowly curved into a wicked smile.

With deliberate movements, Iona pulled her shift over her head and tossed it aside, watching Dagonet's eyes darken even more as he took in the sight of his proud and beautiful wife kneeling in front of him.

And when he reached for her, Iona went willingly.