Bedtime Accusations

[Kirsi]

Kirsi smoothed her hair, fingers slipping a loose strand back into the braid she'd woven most of her hair into. It worked itself free again, slipping from the twist at her crown to curl around her ear. Sucking her lower lip, she lowered her eyes as a witch passed her. Stride less bold in the sjef home. Scowl hidden beneath a blank veneer, but her discomfort was almost palpable.

Shoulders tense. Eyes sliding away from people but lingering on doors and windows. Kirsi had been surprised no appointment was needed. Coat taken at the door, she'd been ushered into the house and given a guide to see her to the sjef's office. It was uncanny. Grimacing her way through a smile at the boy leading the way, Kirsi tried not to readjust the belt at her hips. Or her hair.

Hands itchy to be busy. Feet desperate to run. Too short a trip before a door was knocked on and her presence announced. Swallowing, Kirsi stepped inside, nearly grabbing the boy by his collar when he left. Door closed behind him so that she was very suddenly alone with him. Arkyn Wildling. Kirsi eyed him, not sure what to say now that she was here.

"There's talk, you know. About us." She wished she had her coat to keep her hands occupied. Barging into the room, she slid into a chair, knee bouncing, hands feeling the fabric of the arms. She called in the papers she'd been forced to fill out and dropped them on his desk. "Permits, to see me licensed to run a small clinic from my house." Proof she wasn't a fraud required. That she had the proper facilities to be seeing the growing number of people who came to her door.

Too many, as far as Kirsi was concerned. Brought to her by word of mouth rather than any advertisement on her end. Damn neighbors.

"I just saw one your girls, from, you know-" She wiggled her fingers at him, cheeks pink, but her eyes were more amused than offended. "And even she had something to say about it!" Sitting back in the chair, Kirsi crossed her arms over her chest, and one knee over the over. The sullen pose ruining the effect of her new dress and carefully braided hair. "This is really quite ridiculous." She told him.

@Jones

[Arkyn Wildling]

A knock on the door yanked Arkyn back to his surroundings. Desk stared at for a moment as if he were confused at its existence. Only a second before he had forgotten it was there. Even though both of his forearms rested on the edge. A thick report spanned the gap between his hands. Eyes tracking the words somewhere in the middle. Bound pages folded back as he leafed through the details of an intense investigation. One very important to the Sjef and the City’s skyfleet.

It was a very sensitive matter, however. Without knowing how deep the threat penetrated he couldn’t afford any information leaking out. The reports were delivered by the men and women that wrote them. Then read by Arkyn’s eyes alone. Vanishing the papers to his cabinet he sat back in his chair. A very square set of reading glasses rising slightly as he lifted his eyebrows in question at the young man who cracked the door open. He was not surprised to have his task interrupted by an unscheduled appointment.

He was absolutely taken back by the name announced.

Smirking in sarcastic amusement he waited to see Inga, Nan, or pretty much anyone else in the City stride through the door. Instead Kirsi really did come in. Eyes turning half wild at the boy as he exited. Elbow on the arm of his high backed wooden chair Arkyn did his best not to frown. Waiting for Kirsi to say whatever she had come to say. While he racked his brain wondering just what she might have come for at all. ”Ah,” Guilt and panic popped off in flares of red light in front of his vision. Of course! Of course she had come to challenge him on rumors he hadn’t even started. ”so I have heard.”

He was very careful with his eyes. Or at least he tried to be. Glances towards her face done furtively. Shoulder and collarbone stared at intently. Doing his best not to make her feel even more out of sorts than her nervous energy suggested she already did. ”Listen, they’ll blow over when people realize they’re not true.” He said after a short pause filled with potent awkwardness. For the sake of something to do he reached for the mug of coffee sitting on his desk. It had gone cold hours before, not even half finished. Mind too busy with the days memos and news to focus on the drink.

Warming it with a quick spell he cleared his throat. Reaching over to look at the papers she had tossed his way. ”Alright. I can turn these in for you.” They did not actually belong in his office. Some secretary of the Court Healer tracked all of the clinic permits. There were so many in Meols, after all, it was a full time job to make sure everyone was operating legally. And it gave tourists a way to tell the frauds from the physicians.

Adding them to a short pile of papers that needed his attention before he went to bed for the night Arkyn slumped in his chair again. Sigh silent but palpable. The papers did not explain her visit. Not really. He knew better than to let his imagination run away making up reasons, though. Before he could ask, she circled back to her first subject of choice. Ears turning red under his curls the warlord prince snorted then smiled at a landscape painting hanging on the wall. ”From The Wet Wick?” It shouldn’t have amused him that Kirsi couldn’t label the Red Moon House. Laughter tucked deep in his chest he told the wall painting, ”Hopefully it was a social visit and nothing catching. Don’t call them mine by the way. That’s how these rumors get started. I don’t have any girls- or women, or hearthwitches. Just a sassy little sister.” He told her smartly.

Face turning down towards his lap he shrugged at her heavily. Still careful to avoid making eye contact. He had a very intense gaze, and he didn’t want her to take the rumors seriously. ”I agree. People need something to talk about. Sorry you’re getting dragged through the rumor mill attached to me. It comes with the job, but it doesn’t usually reach out and snare my acquaintances. Maybe it’s because you’re new and mysterious.” had he really been so inappropriate? Arkyn grimaced at his clasped hands. ”So, what exactly did this girl have to say?”

[Kirsi]

"Had you?" He wouldn't meet her eyes. Kirsi scoffed, skin prickling in warning that he was looking at her, even if he didn't make direct wye contact. In turn she looked at the room. She'd never been inside a sjefjhem before, much less a sjef's office. She skimmed the walls and bookshelf. Took in his desk and important looking chair as she sat across from him.

"Uh huh." Arkyn picked up his coffee cup. Kirsi watched. She hadn't expected it. Of all the rumors for her to end up entangled in, a romance with the sjef hadn't been one of them. "And will my business tank for being the cast of the sjef?" She questioned, a dismissive twitch of her shoulder accompany the question. Kirsi didn't really need or want an answer. It was just a surprise. The first she'd heard of it, in her own house, from a highly unlikely source.

He didn't drink. Eyebrow rising, Kirsi shrugged. "Thanks." He still wouldn't look at her. Coffee warmed until the smell of it filled the room. Papers moved to a pile. Maybe she should have started with something more reasonable. "Can't say I asked." Kirsi glanced over her shoulder to see what or who he was smiling at. A painting of a place she'd never seen looming over her shoulder. "I would assume as much if thats the name that comes to mind." It left very little to the imagination, the name.

"You've admitted to the hearth witches already." Kirsi reminded him with a smirk. She'd seen less of them than she'd expected in the halls. Rolling her eyes at the way he talked over her shoulder rather than to her, Kirsi smoothed her hands down her thighs and tried to flatter her body out rather than draw it in. "And an apprentice." She added out of sheer spite. Kirsi doubted any tongues would be wagging if people could see them now.

"You'd think they would have better things to do. Like stay out of the snow." Too many people wading through drifts and making themselves sicker to be told to go home and rest. Or falling into drifts and breaking their ankles to go round up a bit of gossip. Laughing at his question, Kirsi shook her head and tucked the sound behind the side of her hand. Eyes wide and over bright, the heat in her cheeks warming them.

"Oh. She had plenty of advice on keeping your mood pleasant." She snorted. All sorts of glowing praise for the sjef. Kirsi had half suspected the woman was still getting a wage from him. Standing, she circled her chair to look at the painting that had so captivated his attention.  "Seems you're not always so sullen, and I shouldn't mind the moods any." She raised her eyebrows at him, lips tight to keep from laughing. Kirsi wasn't so sure she believed that one. "Guess I also need to ask which of you is the real sjef, since there it a whole 'nother of you in your pants."

She looked over her shoulder at him. One eyebrow a perfect arch in amused question. Turning, Kirsi folded  her arms across her breasts, before letting go and dropping her hands on to the back of his chair. "I think at this point I know more about your sex life than my own." She accused him.

[Arkyn Wildling]

A snort whistled through Arkyn’s nose before he could help it. ”No one is going to think anything of the sort.” That was all the answer he had for her question. Being new to the city left Kirsi without critical understanding for just how absurd the whole story was. Those without the sense to see it was pure fabrication would certainly assume the relationship ended on the lady’s terms. In all his years in the city he had not had a single relationship of note. A few flings, and a reputation for a monthly visit to the Red Moon House.

Thumb tracing a rough patch on the otherwise smooth glass of his mug he watched her shoulders rise and fall. The inside of his lip troubled by his tongue while he smirked at the painting on the far wall. Gaze twitching towards Kirsi as she turned to see what he stared at. ”Well I had to do some assuming as to who you’re referring to.” He admitted, ”I figured that little coy finger waggle was filling in for a place you don’t want to speak about. Wick’s is the only place I really go other than here and to see Tine.”

Always the same Red Moon House. Where he had garnered a reputation for being picky. Never trying new workers. If the ones he knew were busy, he would leave. Burned too many times to hedge his bets. Arkyn went because he needed a sure thing. Comfort paid for because it was the only reliable way. Nothing was more frustrating than paying for relief only to find yourself twice as frustrated and consoling someone else at the end of the night.

”Did I? I’m pretty sure all I said was that there’s a full staff of them here.” He challenged playfully. If he had been about to smile it was lost as his jaw clenched. Face dropping as she tacked on the unnecessary addendum to his short list. Rolling his lips together he nodded at the edge of his desk. ”Sure. Sure.” An apprentice that hadn’t spoken to him since she got what she wanted. Attention, a shot at the spotlight, a second to rub her victory in the other apprentices’ noses. All the more reason to be selective at the Red Moon House. But he told Kirsi none of that. Shouldering the cut because he thought it was his due.

Even if he hadn’t intended any of these consequences, Kirsi had certainly asked for none of it. She had plenty of reason to be annoyed by the baseless gossip. ”I think they all get a bit stir crazy in winter. Gossip is a good reason to go out, get together, share coffee and pretend they’re talking about news instead of fiction.” His shoulders lifted up high in apologetic dismissal. There was nothing to dissuade the rumors, especially now. ”They’ll be twice as bad once everyone hears about this visit too. Just so you know.”

Strange, actually, that she would come to him at all. Surely she had to realize the best way to put out a fire was to smother it. Ignoring gossip was half the way to fight it, and correcting misinformation gently when people asked question. Not that the latter had gone very well when he’d been confronted by Inga and Nan. Would they have laughed at him if they could see this scene?

Probably.

Sighing he gave in to the real question. ”Did she now.” Arkyn said heavily. Lip caught by his teeth while he glared thoughtfully at the painting. Kirsi stood to look at it too. A sweeping landscape of rolling plains. Mist covered mountains in the distance with colorful streaks shooting from the peak. Sky so blue it looked like a mistake by the artist. But it was a familiar vista to him. ”Oh please I am not sullen.” He argued with a half pout sneaking out before he could put it away. The face she made stopped him from ranting on about the current generation’s softness was trying to ruin his reputation as a reliable, even tempered and fair minded. It just didn’t bode well. That forcibly silenced laughter making her cheeks puff out.

Then he found out why. Hand clapping over his face he shook his head. They really had been running their mouths. Mother Night, why couldn’t a guy get off without it being the talk of the town? Apparently even innocent friendship was off limits. ”I think the city would be in riots if I let the one in my pants do the thinking.” He said tartly. Fingers falling away to find his coffee cup again. Shoulders slouching as he tossed his weight back in his seat. ”You’d think with the tips I leave they would be an ounce more discreet.”

Maybe he should have added an apology for her having to hear about his penis on the job. He was feeling just a bit too raw to repeat his regrets. And it was rather unfair in the first place. ”To be honest, there’s so little to know that’s not really surprising.” Eyebrows and shoulders rising at the same time he held his hands at his sides, palms up. ”If there’s more going on in mine than yours then you have my condolences. And I’m fresh out of recommendations for relief that won’t tell everyone about it afterwards.” It was just sex, he consoled himself internally. He would just have to be even more careful than he already was. How was a question to figure out later. Abstinence was uncomfortable, not fatal, after all. Wagging tongues could certainly be the death of his career, or at least make him such a laughing stock he wouldn’t want it anymore.

Standing up from behind his desk Arkyn made his way to the painting. Hand holding his weight against the frame. ”Soul Mountain,” That was the name of the single peak that dominated the horizon line. Arkyn said it twice, first in his native tongue then in Common so that she could understand. ”There’s an ice sheet on top, and it refracts sunlight when you look at it from the right angle at the right times of day. My father’s people think the Ancestors use the rainbow as a bridge between The Darkness and Glacia.”

Stories he still believed in the very bottom of his heart. Another point of contention between himself and his sister. Rubbing the back of his neck he turned to face Kirsi. Shoulder to the wall. Loose hair clinging to the metal picture frame. ”Seriously, I wouldn’t worry about the gossip. Most people are going to realize it was never true in a week or two. The rest are going to figure I ran you off. Or that the ‘other’ sjef did since apparently that’s free information now too.”

[Kirsi]

"Maybe you should try the pot roast at another eatery every once in while." It couldn't be healthy for a person to only frequent all of three places. An opinion Kirsi did not apply to herself. She felt much better when her interactions with people were kept to a minimum. Smirking, she shrugged her shoulders and tucked her loose hair back behind her ear. "I only ask if they prove infectious." Then she was to inform whoever was running the house so things could be dealt appropriately.

So far Kirsi had never had to ask. But then she'd only had a small handful of such clients. Smirking, she shook her head. "No. No. You claimed a jacket cleaning army of them." His face twisted at the mention of the apprentice. Kirsi had forgotten it was a bit of a sore subject. Or hadn't much cared in her moment of spitefulness. They discussed this over dinner, she remembered. When he'd assumed she'd been sleeping with Kite.

Kite! Which reminded Kirsi to send him a letter. She'd enough marks to have Rias bedroom fully furnished now, and add a chair to her sitting room. Or maybe she would hold off and get a sofa of some sort. Something soft to curl up on in front of the fire. "I had to turn those papers in." Kirsi defended, eyebrows swooping down. "Well damn. I didn't even think of that." Shoulder rising, she had to laugh at herself. The sound mingling with a groan.

Too late now. Just like most everything in her life. Kirsi laced her fingers together, finding that the trembling in them had subsided at some point. She wasn't comfortable, but she no longer felt ready to climb out of her skin. Maybe it was the familiarity of doing something stupid. She always did manage to do opposite of what she should. But Kirsi had been curious if he knew. If he'd been the reason. Know he had, but she didn't think he'd started the rumors.

Why would he anyway? "Really? You're frowning right now." Something working across his face before it vanished into his hands. Kirsi couldn't help but laugh. A hysterical bite to the sound. His answer made her snort, eyes dipping down his body. "I can imagine." She was tempted to make more snide comments about apprentice laws, but Kirsi didn't. He was looking a little red around the edges.

"People talk to healers. I hear all sorts of things I don't need to know." She explained in attempt to make him feel better about his private business being aired. "Besides, she thought I'd already seen it. Or was trying to prepare me for when I did." Kirsi hadn't stopped her either. Too horrified to refute the lies or stop the flow of information. He looked miserable, which made Kirsi feel contrite. Which annoyed her. "She'd nothing but good to say about you, if that's what you're worried about."

She couldn't imagine she'd feel much better about someone being so cavalier with their own sexual experiences involving Kirsi. Which made her wonder how much lip flapping Peregrine did. Sucking air in through her nose, Kirsi pulled at the buckle of her belt. "Don't worry about it." Her sex life was but simple, and complicated. Currently revolving around Peregrine and whenever he got a hair up his ass to come harass her and then take her to bed.

Tucking her elbows in, she held still as he stood and came around his desk. Arkyn went around Kirsi to the painting. Naming it. First in a tongue she didn't know, but recognized, and then in common. "Pretty." And it was. The mountain and the sentiment. "Makes sense. Jewels are rainbow toned until you reach the darker sets." She ran her hands up her arms, squeezing her elbows tight as she faced him.

"I'm not worried about the gossip. I just found it strange. We've hardly been in each others company." Kirsi snorted and rolled her eyes. "I don't she's singing it from the rooftops. And I won't repeat it. The secret of the other sjef is safe for now." She teased him. Most men would have been puffed up and bragging. Kirsi wondered why Arkyn wasn't. Other than his moodiness.

Fingers tapping her skin, Kirsi gave in to her annoyance and swept his hair off the frame. "It was clinging." She explained, wiggling the hair free of her fingers before sliding her hands into the pocket of her dress. A sort of built in muff to keep your hands warm. "Anyway. Now that I've fed the rumor mill a fresh dose, I suppose I should go." Smile wry, Kirsi shrugged. People. They were infuriating. Looking at the door, Kirsi turned back, color beneath her eyes. "She was clean, by the way." She finally managed to reassure him. "Perfectly healthy except for the loose lips." She told him with a snort.

[Arkyn Wildling]

”Oh, am I supposed to smile when people are calling me moody?” Arkyn’s dark brows swooped low in exasperation at the irony. Which was quickly buried by a wave of amusement drowning in embarrassment. The auspicious office of sjef reduced to a room for discussions about his spear size. Peering at her through his fingers for a second he composed his face. Not sure if he wanted to laugh or flip the desk upside down. As incited by her knowing as he was entertained by her reaction. Something in the way she looked him over made Arkyn’s blood quicken. She didn’t look shocked, or nervous or any reaction he might have expected. Just curious and twice as amused. Hands falling into his crotch he cupped them pointedly between his thighs and teased, ”Please don’t.”

He was very familiar with the public’s propensity to speak more freely with certain professionals. Healers and priestesses mostly, though they often stopped sjefs in the street to talk about government shortcomings, their hardships, and opinions on his judgments. A sjef was much easier to approach than a queen. There was something inherent in the healing caste that made them seem like good secret keepers. Having raised one from toddlerhood up Arkyn was not fooled. ”Still, it was no place for her to stick her nose.” He didn’t ask who, because he wasn’t sure how he would feel about it later. When he was alone and had time to think it through. If he was angry, better not to know who to be angry at. He would just avoid the place as a whole.

”Well I certainly hope the number of people with unkind things to say about me is small. And that it never includes my bed partners.” Pushing his hair back from his face he added, ”I worry that she told anyone at all. She was wrong about our relationship, is she going to tell everyone she suspects I might be fostering a romance with? I’ve- well. Nevermind. It’s already done.” Arkyn was experienced enough to know that his spear could be a boon or a bane. Women knew it could be a pleasure or a pain, and they didn’t always trust him to make sure it would be the former. That was the entire point of leaving his base desires to women less likely to scurry off in a flurry of excuses. How many had never given him a chance, and was this why? Backroom conversations unsettling them before he had a chance to prove his temperament was reliable?

Too keep from sulking, or starting a pity party of two, he told her about the artwork. Kirsi shrunk in on herself as he came closer. The same sort of behavior that had put them in this mess to begin with. So he forced himself to pretend he didn’t notice. And not to think about it as they admired the painting. ”It’s breathtaking in person. At sunset when the light sinks behind the mountain you can see the whole range from the White to the Ebon-gray.” The tribes would meet in the spring under the mountains shadow to celebrate, trade, and hold a week long festival. Sometimes Arkyn still went. Getting back to his roots was refreshing.

They turned towards one another as if it were a social trial. Both unsure of how to navigate the encounter. Arkyn didn’t make it any easier with his line of conversation. Better to get it all out in case they never met again. ”It’s ironic, isn’t it?” He agreed, with a shake of his head. ”They all seem to think I’m so sullen, and moody, or just a grump. Why would anyone want to be with someone like that? You’ve not earned a reputation as a cheerful sort either, hate to break the news. I guess to them lumping the less than charismatic among them together made sense.” Who could say? Smirking he shook his head at Kirsi’s jesting with a roll of his eyes. ”For now.”

Was it too late, though? It certainly wasn’t an issue he would go without facing again. Not unless he was ready to really resign himself to never having a family or children. Head tipping back so that his hair spread across the frame he gnawed the inside of his cheek. Tine was young, intelligent, and pretty. There would probably be nieces and nephews. Their father had been a monster, after all, maybe it was destiny that the paternal line end with Arkyn.

Blinking back his surprise he flinched as her hand streaked by his face to separate his hair from the static hold of the metal. The charge making a few strands hold to her fingers instead. Most were wiggled free, only a few tugged out at the root so that she could hide her hand. With a soft sound of understanding he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Doing his best to keep from overthinking the simple gesture. He couldn’t help wondering if Inga had been right to suggest he check in. Kirsi could have mailed the papers, or turned them in to any of the many secretaries and apprentices running around the place.

”Of course. Don’t let me keep you. I’m sure there half a dozen hearthwitches timing how long the door stays shut for.” He admitted with an apologetic grin. He stood up straight, ready to see her out. The way she turned back to him with a flush of color resting over her nose made him stop. Hands dipping into his pockets he bent his knees to see her at eye level. ”Alright?” The question was spoken over by its own answer. Arkyn barked out a short laugh. ”Good to know. If she had been sick it would have had to be after I was there last. It’s been… well I haven’t been since the night we had dinner there actually. And I’d have figured she was on her way to clean after seeing you.” That was what healers did anyway.

A thought shot through his head, then, and he lifted his finger to make her wait. ”One second. I have something you should see.” Back to his desk he rummaged through a drawer that locked with both Craft and a heavy iron key that he kept in his cabinet. There were only a few papers in the drawer, which was the only one that locked on his desk. It made a loud series of clicks as the tumblers turned. ”Maybe this will put you and your man’s minds at ease.” From inside he pulled a thin envelope with perfect penmanship addressing it to Arkyn on the front.

Face smoothing into a thoughtful mask he held it out to Kirsi. He really did regret any trouble it had brought on the woman. That was the opposite of his intent. ”This is the reply Lady Ironeyes sent me after I wrote asking if The Runner had ever been reported for mishandling women. I asked too if there was a boy in his care, but she didn’t really answer that.” Shoulders hunched at an odd angle he apologized again, ”It wasn’t my business, I understand why it upset you. But I know that sometimes it’s hard to ask for help, or to think that help will actually come when it’s been shrugged off so many times. If I had done nothing and you were suffering in silence… Well, I’m glad that wasn’t the case.” He had lived that reality. Left his mother and innocent baby sister to keep living it when he realized he couldn’t make her leave. So used to being victimized she couldn’t exist outside the scope of an oppressive relationship.

[Kirsi]

Kirsi's head tipped back as she laughed. Head shook, she tried to wipe the snicker from her lips and failed. "Alright, I won't." She promised, looking away from the hands he cupped protectively between his thighs. Giving him a moments respite from the discomfort of having what was private discussed so publicly. But only a moments.

"Oh?" Kirsi questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. "Maybe its a shared trait." She sniffed at him, nose wrinkling faintly with the sound. She did not elaborate if she assumed the trait was shared among the citizens of Meols, or the sjef and his women of the night. Kirsi was sure it was all of them. Her neighbors proved that point regularly.

"Maybe, if they're a healer." Kirsi shrugged. There was no good answer she could give him. He was right though, it was over and done with and there was no way of changing it. "It is." She allowed. "I don't think she will, though." Not after the way she'd reacted to Kirsi's face when she'd stopped talking long enough to take in the healer's expression.

The topic left for another. Painting admired while Arkyn got his thoughts and feelings on the matter under control. Kirsi couldn't really blame him for his frustration. It was an awkward and intrusive thing to have bandied about. She followed him to the wall, glad to stretch her legs and be moving. Sitting in a strange place made her feel vulnerable. Even with the distractions.

"Is it far?" Kirsi wondered. Eyes tracing the shape of the mountain. It sounded like something she would like to see. Like the places glimpsed in webs. "No Black?" How did such dark colors fit into a rainbow? After her Red they grew dark and nearly colorless. Ah well. It was the Darkness. You needed light to create shadow and shadows for the light to dissipate.

"I'm heartbroken." She sneered playfully, hand crossing her chest as if there was a wound that needed tending. He'd inflicted one on her once. Scalding her with tea. Kirsi rolled a button between her knuckles at the memory. "Maybe so. Too miserable to attract anything but the like." Kirsi smiled and rolled her eyes, head and shoulders following their path. "Maybe its our castes." Most people blamed her sharp temper on her Black Widow caste.

Healers were supposed to be kind and generous to a fault after all.

"For now. I might need it to black mail you later, if my license is revoked." It gave her pause, the thought. Kirsi dug her nails into her arms. It could come to it one day that she would need to bargain for her freedom. She doubted the threat of his spear being public knowledge would do much good. Kirsi would just have to keep hoping the truth never came out. Or that all her affairs were settled when it did.

He flinched from her. She was a danger. Even Peregrine shied from her touch on occasion. Kirsi didn't blame him, but the easy way he startled amused her. She would have thought warlord princes and sjefs made of sterner stuff. Putting her hands away, Kirsi apologized with an explanation and gave him space. "Hopefully they won't be jealous, your hearth witches." She smiled, hair brushed back. Time for her to go. But Kirsi had one last bit of information to impart before she went. It made Arkyn laugh and Kirsi snicker.

"Was your dessert not satisfactory?" A parting shot that was extended as Arkyn held up his a finger. Nodding, Kirsi waited, rocking on her heels as he dug around in his desk. She met him half way, eyebrows furrowed as she took the letter. "What is it?" Accepting it, Kirsi unfolded the parchment and scanned its contents. Eyes darting to the signature at the bottom. She sucked her lower lip and tried to focus on the words.

"He's not my man." She told him idly, finger touching the place where her son was omitted. Shoulder rolling forward, Kirsi took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Counting the ten under her lungs were empty. Folding the letter up again, careful to keep the creases neat before handing it back over. "Thank you." She looked at him, smile wavering at the corners of her mouth.

"I understand why you did it. But the helps too late and unneeded now." Kirsi straightened her shoulders and pulled at her pocket. "I'd rather forget about Reric and have Reric forget about me. Stiff Grey queens included. She has enough to worry about with the Runner in her backyard." It tasted wrong on her tongue. Runner. Peregrine. Licking her lips, Kirsi shrugged. "Don't worry about it Arkyn. Really." She gave his arm a pat. Sure she'd said too much.

[Arkyn Wildling]

”It’s around the other side of the mountains- a day by horse, two on foot.” Winds never crossing his mind as a path to the holy place. His Summer-sky was only recently enough to give him access. Arkyn practiced, but only in his free time which he gave himself very little of. Besides, there were no landing webs in the wilderness. ”You can only see the effect from tribal lands, too, so most people pass by without ever knowing what they’re missing.” Many assumed the wars of the past made it dangerous to visit native lands at all. They didn’t understand that territoriality had been forced on the Nukti, who were usually peaceful when it came to temporary visits.

Attention turning back to the painting he grinned at her next question. A short shake of his head tumbling curls across his shoulders. ”No Black. If it were that dark you wouldn’t be able to see the rest of the colors. But it’s fitting, I think, since there has never been a Black Jewel among us.” Voice catching on the word he cleared his throat- ”The Nukti, I mean.” Us. Them. Life had made the words tricky to get right. Wildling born but city loyal. Arkyn’s world had never been very small. Boyhood lived on the back of a sled as the tribe guarded their livestock’s natural migration. Still, the scope of who his people were encompassed a much broader scale these days.

Hands rising apologetically he shot her a lopsided smile, ”Yes you look quite broken up. Don’t worry, it’s nothing so condemning as sullen. Sour apples, they say. At least they’re still good for pie making.” What? Eyes closing slowly he snorted. Wishing there was a way to backpedal. Pie making, Mother Night just strike him dead. When his eyes opened they rolled up to the ceiling to plead silently with the fates. A sigh on his lips before he agreed with Kirsi in a soft hum. ”Maybe so, the world sure puts the blame there often enough.”

No matter how long he had proven himself to be judicial, even-tempered, and considerate every gleam of emotion was explained away as a symptom of his caste. Even his hard opinions on the city’s queen were brushed off as the suffering of a displaced warlord prince. A convenient excuse to make little apprentices less culpable for their manipulations; and to never take his ranting quite as seriously as he thought it should be taken. Frustrating as it was Arkyn still prayed every night that they were never proven wrong.

”Why would your license get revoked?” He wondered after his chuckles had died down. Eyebrows drawn together in a pucker of curiosity as he studied her expression for clues. There was something in her energy that didn’t match the teasing tone in her words. Something that made him feel for an edge that might not have been there. Tongue tracing his bottom lip while tried to decide if she was subtly threatening him or if she was feeling threatened. Choosing the later he gave up with an exaggerated sigh. ”I suppose if that makes you tell then I’d be free to just whip it out and beat the court healer over the head until they give it back.”

A joke to gloss over the tense undercurrent. Smoothing a pass to more mutual teasing that Arkyn found he was beginning to enjoy. It was probably the most laughter the office had seen since his tenure started. The more relaxed atmosphere turning tense again as he instinctively tried to dodge the touch. Thoughts of what it might have been trying to imply brushed away by her sudden need for departure. Like a tide leaving the shore he stepped back to give her more space. Feeding a fitting excuse into the space where his interest had tried to take root yet again. He should have apologized for flinching, he realized belatedly. Did she think he had recoiled from her? Was that why she was in a hurry to rush off, or was that just her polite way of recoiling from him? It seemed the most common method.

The question she tried to punctuate her departure making him decide he needed more time to make any decisions about the visit. Head tilted back by his laugh Arkyn shot a grin over his shoulder, ”It was exactly what I paid for. The problem with dessert is that when you have your cake people tend to think you’re trying to keep it too. You go to lick the icing too often and well- rumors spread like wildfire in this town if you haven’t noticed.” Letter fetched he met her by the side of his desk. Handover slow while he chose his words with deliberation. Hip supporting his weight he leaned into the wood. One hand on the mostly bare table top, one in his pocket. Eyes trained on her face. Trying to puzzle out how much of a bridge she was trying to build over their awkward introduction. Lady Ironeye’s succinct response didn’t take long for her to breeze through.

Not nearly long enough for him to make up his mind. He should just ask, he knew that was the only way to know for sure. Unnerved when the moment came and it was time to say goodbye again he tried latched onto another reason to keep the conversation going. Bombarding her with fresh perspective on what had already passed between them. If he could reframe those unpleasant moments maybe that would help. Or at the very least give him another few minutes to build up the courage to do something other than fret about hair touching and punchy personal questions. But The Runner wasn’t her man, and she said understood the intent even if it had made her angry before.

Body turning him towards her more he rubbed his chin on his shirt sleeve. Gaze shifting to the nervous twists of fingers in her pocket and the wetting of her lips. Hand slipped from his pocket he cupped the one that patted at his arm. ”Then you’ve come to the right place. To forget. Meols is good for new beginnings, trust me, I’ve had a dozen here.” Thumb brushed across her knuckles he shot her a wink, ”Although I hear you have this thing with the Sjef. That’s probably not a very good way to fly under the probes.”

With a gentle squeeze he let her go to angle himself against the ledge of the desk. Both hands on the wooden surface for support so that it didn’t bite into his ass. Boots crossed over one another so that his legs were tight together. ”Don’t worry about the hearthwitches, either. If they were going to be jealous of anything it would be my appreciation of outside pot roast.”

[Kirsi]

"Not far then." Closer than many of the places Kirsi had glimpsed in her webs. Closer than the one place she had actually gone beyond them. It made gooseflesh rise on her arms. The heat of dragon fire racing up her neck. "Hmmm." Kirsi squinted at the smoky edge of the mountain side. Most would. Herself included. The tribal folk were not much seen in the city. And she'd seen even less as a girl in Reric, fewer still when she'd been living in her cave.

Her eyes drifted from the painting back to Arkyn. Arkyn Wildling. It explained a lot. Pieces she hadn't realized she'd been missing falling into place. Her gaze swept over him, as if he would suddenly look different in this new light. Eyebrow twitching, but he looked the same. A little wild, but mostly like any other man. "Never ever?" Her elbows slid out and her shoulders in. She'd not heard of a Black since Witch. Kirsi wondered if they had been more plentiful before then. "I wonder why." Good reason, probably. History was not kind to Witch.

"Pies?" She laughed. At Arkyn mostly. "I'd rather be sullen than food, I think." Sour apples. Mother Night it was not pleasant to hear. No wonder he scowled to hear similar about himself. It was different knowing you did quite fit and hearing how other people viewed or inability to be like them. But she never had fit, even as a girl. Too wild and temperamental. A bad child who had never grown to be a good woman. But how to be that had never been shown to her.

"Doesn't it though." Smile bitter sweet. Laughter turning too serious as he read more into Kirsi's comment than she meant him to. She could feel his eyes looking for answers. Intent on her face as she glanced away. Gave him a high tipped ear to examine before she smiled and shook her head. Slowly turning to face him again. "Sometimes I throw the annoying ones out. Patients, I mean." Eyes dark beneath the fringe of her lashes, Kirsi watched his tongue trace his bottom lip. Mouth strangely soft for as hard as the rest of him was.

"You what?" Kirsi flushed, laughter making her cheeks puff and her hands flutter to cover her face. She nearly choked on it. Image flashing through her mind so utterly ridiculous she couldn't help but laugh. Hard and shocked guffaws spilled into her hands. "That's..." She sputtered. Disgusting? Insane? "Deranged." Kirsi decided, laughter slowing and then giving away as he jerked away from her hand. She'd forgotten. Herself. Her place.

All the little ways she'd been treated as human tricking her into believing she had an existence outside her purpose. She only had the one. To find Rias and make right what she'd ruined. They both withdrew. Kirsi nearly apologized, but couldn't bring herself to utter the words. She hadn't meant anything by it but to free his hair. So she put her hands away so he would feel safer. Went back to teasing to help put more distance between them and the event.

"So I've noticed." He should have been married by now, the way people thought. To someone not Kirsi, who had spent so little time in his company. He had something for her before she left. Letter exchanged along with the reasons behind his actions. She'd understood them, in a way, even as it had all been unfolding around her. Peregrine angry at her doorstep. Arkyn seeing more than anyone had a right to.

The only one to ever do anything about it. His hand covered hers. The contact warm. Gentle. No expectation or demand in it. It was a hand, on hers, offering comfort and requesting nothing in return. Kirsi looked at it. Watched his thumb cross the ridges of her knuckles and turned her eyes up just in time to catch his wink. She chuckled, heat sweep from her toes up to her eyes. "Oh yes. But I owe him, you see. For fixing my fence and introducing me to good pot roast."

She laughed, slipping her hand from his arm and shaking her head at him. "Pot roast and cake seem to get you into an awful lot of trouble, Sjef." Arms sliding under her breasts, Kirsi gave him a critical look over. Hips angled toward him. "My advice would be to give up eating, if I weren't a healer." Shrugging, she stepped over his boots and finally turned toward the door. "I really should go though." Kirsi glanced over her shoulder, turning slowly to press her hands behind her back and folding them over the doorknob.

"I left a cake in the oven."

[Arkyn Wildling]

Lips folding over his teeth Arkyn followed her gaze to his hand. The hint of worry that he was going too far yet again soothed by the fact that she didn’t pull away. At the very least she didn’t mind. Arkyn liked it though, so he pushed the line a little farther. Searching for the spot where his interest would meet her repulsion or fear. It wasn’t waiting on the other side of his teasing. Something else was. A look in her eye that made his stomach tighten and his lips part to join her soft laugh. There was a blue spark of warmth under her dark lashes that made him wish he hadn’t let go of her hand quite so soon.

”I’m sure you’d get off with a warning if you decided not to repay the kindness. Sharing pot roast spots is awfully generous.” He said, stressing the ‘awfully’ with a forward lean. Fingers inching back towards the hand she still rested on his arm, but too late to find them again. Laughter brightening the air she summed up the pleasures in his life and called them something else. Making him smile wistfully with one eyebrow curved up. Voice defeated but jovial. ”No, the cake and pot roast rarely ever get me into trouble. People that want to guess about my eating habits do.”

A smirk loped across his face as she gave him a sharp once over. Both shifting at the same moment so that their knees and hips nearly butted together. Catching his weight with one hand on the desk he set the other down as a fist on his hip. Looking down the rounds of his cheeks at her sassy pose. And sassier advice. ”I could give up the pot roast if I had to. The cake would be a hard negotiation, I think.” He said, letting himself drown in the innuendo. If pot roast were red moon houses then he thought it  made some sort of sense. Probably.

Kirsi didn’t seem to be putting nearly as much meaning behind the words. Stepping across him she headed for the door. He walked her to it with another try at goodbye. ”Right. It was good seeing you again.” He said. A sigh working up his chest as he squared his shoulders to get back to work. Ready to catch the door once she was through it. Eyes laughing she turned around instead. Knob held and eyes on Arkyn. Baiting him for a reaction. Flashing teeth in a rare smile he shook his curls and wagged a finger at her. ”Careful,” The gap between their bodies nearly gone he reached behind her to feel the cool metal of the door knob for himself. Fingers almost tangled in with hers. ”or that’s going to sound like an invitation.”

From his spear up it certainly sounded like one. Heart a lump in his throat he stepped closer rather than risk anything as bold as a kiss. It was one thing to poorly read signals. Another entirely to molest a woman who had given him the cold shoulder until… well right then and there. Treading the line with all the care of a prowling hunter he looked for more clues in her body language. Tongue taking its time as it slid between his top teeth to wet his bottom lip. Maybe a last round of teasing would tip him off to her intent. ”You know, I like pie too.” 

[Kirsi]

Bodies nearly joining together. Twisting just outside of touching as they turned toward each other. A feast of innuendo laid out between them. Arkyn's smile was lopsided, stirring a flutter in her stomach as much as the angle of his body. "I hope you know a good healer with sweet tooth like that." She smirked before turning away from him.

Stepping over the arrogant sprawl of his legs as she went. Skirts swirling as she headed for the door. But not out of it. Something stirring her spine to strength and her tongue to sharpness. Not in spite. There was no hissing. Just more teasing as she turned to face him. Meaning richer than she meant it thanks to all the double talk.

Worse still she could not regret it. Even when she turned to find him closer than expected. Dogging her steps the door. Right up to it until Kirsi was arched over the knob, and his hand, which fought with hers over the knob. Stomach clenching she sucked her lips, tongue sliding between them. "Can't have that, can I?" Kirsi held her breath and watched him, remembering the tea that had spilled down her dress and across her front step.

Watched especially the way his tongue slipped between his teeth to cross his bottom lip. Behind her, Kirsi's hand locked with his. Door knob held between their palms. Free fingers touching the tip of a curl. She laughed. Sound low in her throat, all the air leaving her lungs with it, forcing her to suck in another breath. "Even the kind made with sour apples?" Because that was what she was.

The sort of fruit that had to be stewed in sugar and pastry to be palatable. "Because I am much better at baking those than cake." She had never made a pie either. Vegetables and meat. Vegetables and meat. But Kirsi did not want to think about vegetables and meat. She wanted to think about rainbows along mountain snow.

And what the breadth of his chest felt like under her hands. She pinched the fabric of his shirt between her fingers and stroked a crease into his shirt. Smoothed it down and slid her hand up over his shoulder, across the muscle there to his neck. It would be fine. To open her mouth under his and lift her breasts to his chest. To taste the wildness and moods on his tongue.

Why not finally be something she was accused of? Something pleasurable.

[Arkyn Wildling]

A small sound of disagreement worked in the back of Arkyn’s throat. Head tipped towards the rise of a single shouldered shrug. Mouth pursed thoughtfully for a second before he asked, ”I think that depends on how false you want to keep those rumors…  because you could have that, if it was what you wanted.” Maybe she did. Maybe maybe maybe. There was no attempt to open the door or escape sideways. In fact she didn’t even shrink against the door.

Dark lashes sweeping low over her eyes Kirsi stared back at him with lips made rosy from the press of her teeth. An expression he recognized written in the heaviness of her lids and fullness of her mouth. For once their interest was mutual- and aligned. She did want to try a kiss. Maybe more than a kiss but life had taught Arkyn to keep his expectations very low. It made the good surprises better and kept the bad ones shallow.

Besides the length and depth of her interest were questions he could live without the answers to for now. Not knowing made things less complicated. Made embracing the opportunity instead of letting it pass him by easier. A woman who had fought the world and won was tossing him that look. If he missed this chance then he’d just be adding more ‘what ifs?’ to a life already filled by them. Hand curving around the knob he smiled as her fingertips fit in the spaces left by his own. And let a chuckle out as she reached with the other hand to fondle a spiral of his hair. Always his hair. Young, old, sour, dour, sweet, sassy. They always went for the hair first. From the girl children that tugged or spread jelly in it to the women that held fistfulls while they earned his pay and the grandmother’s that pat it down at temple service on holidays.

The fleeting touch came with a long laugh. A nervous sort of sound that made the hairs on his arm stand at attention. Contradictory as it seemed nervous was a good sign. Arkyn knew what to do with nervous. How to lead it to willing, then to satisfied. Fear and mistrust were the walls that he had never found a way to scale. Nervous, though, nervous he could handle. He let his legs puzzle with Kirsi’s while she talked about baking. Door firm at her back as he leaned in. Desire reined in by reason as he cocked another smile at her, ”Even sour apple pies.”

Palms flat he found a hip to cup and a shoulder to curve around. Fingertips at the base of her neck, thumb rubbing at the fabric of her blouse. While she plucked a line down his shirt. Subtle grooming to test the water before diving in. Arkyn waited patiently for her to make up her mind. Hands giving a gentle press when she looked up again. Ready to release her or pull her a little closer. Depending. She didn’t make him wait very long. Curious fingers gliding over the strength in his arms and rounds of his shoulder to find that spot by his neck where a wrist was easily rested. 

Fingers splayed where they held her Arkyn pulled her body flush. Smiling to himself at the strange but pleasing turn of events.

She didn’t have to rise up far to reach. No tippy toes or stretching. So he knew the way her breasts brushed his chest was purposeful. Mouth soft he tried the readiness of her lips. Kissing the lower until she let him slip it between his. Teeth skimming the swell in a measured nibble. The art in his kiss found in the steady pressure and gentle sucks. Fancy tongue work saved for placed that needed them.

His hands followed the shape of her figure from waist to ribs. Thumbs spanning over to sweep under her breasts. Tracing the curves without fondling. The twitching in his spear hidden along his thigh. A good kiss all it took to gain it’s attention. But it had learned a few life lessons too. Expectation even lower than the other sjefs.

[Kirsi]

Could she? Heat crept up the back of Kirsi's neck. She could feel it warming the skin behind her ears. Which whooshed. Blood rushing as her heart tripled in tempo. Did she? He was giving her permission to ask it of him, wasn't he? A sort of pre-acceptance of an invitation. There was salt on her lips. From sweat? Or the cracker she'd eaten on the walk over? Thick with nuts and oats.

Did his lips taste of salt too? Maybe she had walked all this way to find out. Rumors goading them closer, whether they had been meant to or not. The attraction had been there before. Startled by a probe down her dress. Drawn out by broad shoulders and hair too wild for a sjef. Especially this sjef. He seemed more sad than wild, to Kirsi.

Blamed, like she was, for the fickleness of other peoples desires.

Even sour apple pies. Her hip slid into his palm. Or Arkyn slid his palm over her hip. All the laughter at the way she touched his hair falling away into silent intent. Eyes sliding across each other, like hands that measured the curve of a shoulder or the length of a rib cage. Legs fitting between each other. When had he come so close? Knees interlocking, like their fingers over the door handle.

Or their lips, as Kirsi tipped her face back. Stretching toward him even as he pulled her close with hands that had been patient. Flush to the hard planes of his body while curled fingers around the back of his neck. His mouth was soft. Not tentative, but gentle. She didn't feel a roaring need rise up in her. There was no drowning sensation, or frantic clinging. His lips were too calm for that. Exciting, but precise. So that Kirsi held her breath and paid attention.

Body growing warm and languid until her lips parted and he drew the lower one between his own. Lips and teeth pressing without crushing. A suck that teased. It was a thorough sort of kiss. The likes of which Kirsi had not experienced often. Knob twanging in her hand, Kirsi let it go, draping her arm over his shoulder and letting her fingertips brush his back as she traced his upper lip with her tongue.

Chin angled, she followed the curve of his shoulder to his arm. Stroking while she clung. Mouth following his in a slow, lazy exploration of taste and texture. Tip put to his teeth and then dragged across the ridges. Forehead to his temple, Kirsi sighed against the corner of his mouth, kissing him there. Hand spreading across his chest. "Very sour." She mumbled, sucking softly at the corner of his mouth to catch the taste there.

Breasts aching and belly quivering its emptiness. He was really a very good kisser. Dropping her gaze, Kirsi dared a look at him through her lashes. Hands spreading over his chest, fingers pausing over his shirt buttons. Could she? Did she? And if the answer to either was yes, who would judge her?

Lips lingering at his chin, Kirsi let her hands drift lower, fingers pulling his shirt free from his trousers so she could slip her hands instead cor warmth.

[Arkyn Wildling]

No frantic desire crashed against Arkyn’s steady passion. It was a nice feeling. A shared need that was balanced. For a while his tongue led the way while Kirsi seemed to just accept ever sweep of lip and tongue. Until she went soft in his arms. Reciprocation bubbling up in a gentle warmth that made her hands dance across his shoulder blades. The shape of his lips found by the tip of her tongue. It tickled and made his tongue chase the trail. There were expressive undertones in each kiss, but they didn’t sully the pleasure in it.

A few soft flicks of tongue or presses of teeth asking for more or giving extra. Questions about how far this was likely to go made with nibbles and sucks instead of words. Mouths stroking the heat in his core without lighting any fires. As a warlord prince it was always a challenge to keep his head level. He appreciated the slow build up. It gave him time to temper his hands so that they stroked instead of pawed. Held instead of grasped. Kirsi didn’t seem addverse to the way things were developing either. Even if she absently agreed about the flavor of apples. ”I hope you’re still talking about those hypothetical pies.”

Their mouths parted but didn’t stop their exploring. Arkyn making his way towards her ear as she hovered around his chin. Nose skimming her cheekbones he caught her furtive glance sparking through the dark shadow of her eyelashes. Thumbs pressing a bit harder he pulled her flush. Then found the lobe of her ear with the edges of his teeth. She had a potent scent. Strong with dark Jewels and dual castes. When his nose twitched so did his spear. Fighting its way to attention against the thick fabric of his slacks. Which were not nearly as tight then as he needed them to be.

Kiris didn’t seem to mind that either, though. Shirt untucked she braved the next step. Fingertips tickling half way down the line of hair that trailed from his navel to his groin. So Arkyn followed suit. Breathing into her ear as his thumbs slipped up the swell of her breast. One nipple poking at the layers, but one lost to them. He pinched softly at it until he could feel both. Circles dragged over the small points while he found her mouth again. Stomach sucked in so that the muscles gave her fingers room to dip deeper. If that was what she wanted.

He was sure now, though, that she wanted more than just a kiss. So with a parting pinch he left her breasts for her thighs. Catching one in each palm so he could lift her off the floor. No need for help from his Jewels. Arms plenty strong for carrying light bodied healers around. Back into the heart of the room. Where his immaculately kept desk made a good sturdy surface to sit her on. Knees drawn apart as he sucked at her top lip. The bow brushing his tongue tip in a way that tingled down his spine. ”I think your pie is just going to have to stay in that oven.” He teased, wondering if there was really anything baking at all.

The only drawback as far as he could see would be eating crow if Inga found out the rumors had been made true after all.

[Kirsi]

Faint amusement made her breath stutter across her lips and his jaw. Too distracted to really laugh. The whole of her attention caught and entangled with his lips and hands so that hearing seemed a very distant ability. There was something earthy in the way he tasted. Like dark soil or green boughs.

Things he did not smell like. The scent of others clinging to his clothes. His psyche like a sheer cliff. Sensed as a steep drop or a towering wall. Hard like stone. It seemed in direct contradiction to his hands. Or maybe it was just contrast. Firm and gentle like his lips. Inviting her to hold tight and give in. Arkyn would keep her upright as she draped herself against him. And draw her closer to soft bites and slow sucking.

And pinching. Each breast woken until they peaked. The hard knots of her nipples found and teased through the heavy fabric of her dress. Kirsi arched, sucking his lip as her stomach pressed to the back of her own hand, which was spread across the muscles of his abdomen. Skin warm and soft. Hair tickling her palm as she slid her hand toward his hip. Fingers brushing the hollow of the bone before dipping lower.

Below the faint gap between stomach and waistband. Breathing slow but shallow as her nails brushed the root of spear. Her whole body was awake with the sensation. Every pour open and straining toward Arkyn. Ears buzzing from his nibbling, skin tight to it could feel every tiny shift in his caress. Or grasp. Caught by the backs of her thighs, Kirsi was lifted from the ground. Her short gasp turning into a purr as she nuzzled his neck through the fall of his hair.

Hand rising to cup his side rather than his spear, she didn't fight him. Giving over instead and letting herself be put where he wanted her. Thighs spread around him and bottom settled in the edge of his desk. Face tipped toward his kiss, Kirsi shivered, and smirked. "I doubt the neighbors will let it burn the house down." She hooked her heels around his thighs and pulled him closer, clever fingers working his shirt the rest of the way free.

She wanted to see all the hard planes she'd felt. Gaze appreciative, thumbs curious over his nipples as she looked him over. He had the body of a man who used his own strength more than his Jewels. A body that fit with the taste of him. Leaning in, Kirsi kissed his collar bone, following it to the hollow of his throat. And then she leaned back and helped him drag the trousers she wore under her skirts free. Plucking the laces of her bodice loose as they did so.

The square neckline wide enough to slide down her shoulders once it was loosened. Arms pulled from her sleeves before she wrapped them both around his neck. Mouth a little hungrier now over his own. The feeling of skin to skin making her sigh and press against him. Back bowing so he could have her breasts, and she could have room to slide fingers down his trousers again, working them open too. Palm flattening his spear against his belly. Hand spread wide to see just how true the rumors were.