mahalakshmi | AU - MAGNI & LAKSHMI

If she has put it aside, it is not far - because now that her perceived duty is done, to put Magni's immediate well being very much first, she can't help how easy it is to lean when she is beckoned close too. The betrayal in her gaze as it drops to Magni's body below the water before she quickly darts it back up.

But this time, she doesn't pull away. Firmly, now that she can see the colour coming back up to Magni's cheeks and lips, no longer starkly turning blue, but finally possessing that flush of colour she related so keenly to her. Of when her cheeks would turn pink when the wind whipped too hard against her face, her hair dampened and clinging to her body. Yellow washed in the candlelight that flickered in the corners of the room, the fire that had been banked to make it warm.

She basks in her, where no one can tell them not too, gladly. Her hand extending as Magni turns to kiss her wrist, turning to brush against Magni's cheek, tracing around the shape of her jaw with slow fingers.

She misses the wandering of her gaze, too caught on mapping out her wrists and the bones of her hand with slow, swirling motions, fingertips and lips travelling carefully.

Rani's fingers tracing her cheek are too tempting. She leans into the contact, tilting her head to it as a flower reaching for sunlight, and then— hesitates. Tentatively catches Rani's fingertip with her teeth, and then flickers her gaze up to her, as she kisses the tips of her fingers. Almost takes them into her mouth, but catches herself— halting, a guilty tension rising up her shoulders and her neck.

She jumps in surprise. After all - they had, kissed very selectively, of late. Little moments when they found themselves standing close. Standing with hands held together, faces tilting near, little furtive glances to make sure no one was watching and the startling apart like rabbits the moment there was. It hadn't been much more than that. Or the time before they had even begun kissing, when Lakshmi tried her best to be singularly bold in how she approached Magni before one night before bed in only her nightgown.

None of it had been biting, and she makes a terribly nervous noise ( not a squeak ), and stills. Letting herself being kissed as she decides she didn't... wholly dislike that.

Which leads to the question of how to find out where else she might like to be bitten. Pressing her fingers to Magni's lips and takes the daring to tilts Magni's face up to look at her, as she for once gets to peer down at her through lowered lashes. "May I join you in the bath?"

The Definitely-Not-Squeak is charming. With that said, though, probably she shouldn't have done anything to illicit a Definitely-Not-Squeak at all. Berating herself internally, Magni is trying to ready an apology in between fretting that Rani might draw away and depart. Overready fool, she tells herself, and she's strung a few different options together (all terrible) when Rani tilts her head upwards.

The comparative position of vulnerability isn't lost on her. Truthfully she leans into it, is glad to, because she trusts Rani. (Has she told her that? She has the terrible feeling she hasn't, because when does she tell most people anything?)

Trust or not, though, her mouth is dry, and she gulps visibly. Any trace of that wanting and hunger that had mercifully abated pushes forward again, and she just nods (absurdly, probably.) Eventually she manages a "yes," though her throat feels parched and dusty. "Please."

She nods, and she's - nervous. Of course, she's nervous. Nervous like she had been from the first but... this was different. Worse than the rejection on a first night, worse than the whispering words in her ear.

This was all herself.

She rises, turning her back to Magni as she goes to the front of her dress. At least, in the effort of making the room warm, her now layers of cloak, dress and undergarments becomes too hot. Something that makes it somewhat of a relief as she undoes the clasp of the cloak from the middle and drops it onto the floor. Then she starts pulling at the laces, tugging at the loops and ties that held her together in her dress, until shapeless, it too falls away.

Down to her shift, she can feel her hands shaking almost as much as she had in undressing Magni. The sturdy bow that kept it done up in the middle of her chest suddenly felt like a wisp of air. Her whole body felt feverish, the belly clenching with low heat. Tensing below her skin. Would she think her beautiful? Would she still look at her like that? Would she place her hands all over her body, kiss her skin? Like books described it, warmly, trailing, finding secret corners of her?

She wouldn't know if she didn't move. Shivering in a way that had nothing to do with cold, she pulled the ribbon loose and lifts her arms up to push the material off her shoulders. Pooling around her feet so that she was naked as the day she was born.

Lakshmi doesn't raise her eyes to look at Magni, couldn't handle it right then, as she turns back around. Her rope of hair hanging over her shoulder to her waist, swinging like a pendulum. But she does lift her hand, tentatively reaching for Magni so she can balance herself to get into the bath. One long leg rising up with her toes pointed as she steps into the water. Then the other as...

Deep, deep breath, Lakshmi, she brings her other leg over. The giddiness, madness, feverishness works its way up her body, if she is to be daring, it must be now or never or they might never be in this moment again.

Bracing herself, she sinks down, but not far from her. In the water, eyes still low, she positions herself to slide around. Bracing her knees either side of Magni's hips and slowly sinks down to sit in her lap, straddling her. Finally, finally, near to her, she looks up at Magni, and she wants her so badly it fills her gaze wholly, that as she finally settles and she feels how they touch the noise is almost helpless as it slips from her lips, her face flushed in the steam or the wanting, they could be told apart. Just that her whole body feels so overwhelming hot.

"I want like to wash your body." I want to touch every bit of you, but her face might burn off if she said it.

She doesn't know if she can watch. Well— obviously she can, is capable. She can look. She doesn't know if she should look, if Rani wants her to, and so she glances to her as she turns her back, and forces her gaze away. Then she realises that the mirror still affords her a reflection of Rani undressing and she swallows a cough, and brings her gaze to the water. It feels like she can't quite exhale, like her lungs are locked, made of the steel that she works into being.

There is a flush rising up her neck from her chest, her ears burning pink, her cheeks dusted as well, and that is just as Rani walks to the bath and takes her hand. She still doesn't know if she should look, and its partly because she knows that if she does she will just stare and not be able to look away. As she steps into the bath, Magni gulps in a breath, and feels her shoulder jerk with the threat of a hiccup.

If there is any god at all, I can't get hiccups in this moment.

A moment of unrelenting panic, before she realises that it was a false alarm. It's just in time for her to realise that Rani has kneeled on either side of her, and her eyes slip shut for a moment as her weight settles against her, a soft sound escaping her without her even realising. One of Magni's hands going automatically to rest at Rani's waist and she looks to her, the rise and fall of her chest quickening.

"I would— um." She is tripping over her words. "That— yes." Reaching for the bar of soap, Magni doesn't hand it over immediately. "If I can— if you would like me to—" wash you, touch you, also.

Lakshmi nods, forcing to keep her eyes up. Below the water, her hands move, that faint splashing, trickling noise of movement, the water lapping at their bodies as they both shift, adjust.

But if she thought that settling would make her burn less, she was a fool, she felt hotter than the water still and growing more so as she could feel Magni press between her legs. At least she wasn't the only one overwhelmed by this, and there is a comfort in knowing that. In...

In figuring this out with someone else, together.

She presses her lips to each other, swallowing on a dry throat and nods, shy, still, in her way. "Yes, I would... I would like that." She pulls her hands up out of the water, the water trailing down her arms as they move, this time, to perch them on Magni's shoulders. Gently and carefully there.

Drawing up, Magni inhales and lists closer to Rani, slides her hand up over her ribs, and hesitating before drawing it away so she can roll the soap between her hands to produce a creamy lather, and setting the soap on a dish on the side, and—

just keeps rolling the lather in her hands, before bringing her hands to settling on Rani's back, smoothing up over her shoulderblades, inadvertently drawing her closer. Inhales shakily, and leans into it, resting their foreheads together. Just breathing, tracing patterns into the suds on Rani's back.

"When I was in the water," she says, very softly, "the cold dragged at me. My arms felt heavy and breathing was—"

A little shake of her head. "I thought of you, and I could keep moving."

It's soothing as much as it's not. That terrible ache that says it should be enough to be touched at all, and the hunger which bellies it not nearly sated.

She leans as prompted, pressing together as gravity tilts her down into Magni. Sliding further into her lap, rolling her weight on her knees as she tucks in neater. Stretching, simmering below the surface, her body heating into each little touch and wanting more of it in a way that feels almost rapturously good.

Dissolved into it, until Magni speaks, and her eyes slowly lift up to watch her face. "I am glad, or else, I would have come down to the water every day." She tries to keep a straight face, but in the way that became more obvious the longer she stayed here, she was ever quick to smile. "And shouted at it, at you."

It surprises a bright smile out of her, Magni laughing quietly as she shakes her head. "My wife is very cruel. Prowling along the shore like an angry cat."

Her shoulders sway a little for emphasis, a feline prowl, before she brings one hand up and goes to gently boop Rani on the nose with the suds, in revenge for that terrible teasing.

But not all jokes. Her other hand is still at Rani's back, steady at the small of it, and she rolls her hips up slowly, experimentally, as she watches her.

She blows up her face to dislodge the soap bubble that is frothed on her nose. Watching it float away in a brief moment, laughingly distracted by it as Magni teased her. Idle as she wriggled, pressing back into her hand. Mistaking it for a bracing gesture and somewhere comfortable to lean.

The roll startles her. Her mouth slipping open in a gasp. Oh God, it feels better than she thinks it should. Squirming almost instantly in her lap, her fingers squeezing her shoulder as she tries to settle afterwards. Not to any avail. Her lips together, humming, and looking down between them, their bodies swimming in distortion between the water. She rolls back in turn - as if - as if it would not be so strong this time. That it only caught her so deeply because it was off guard.

It isn't, it isn't, and she pants a sharp breath. Looking up with it dazing in her eyes. Unable to ask for more, but wanting it so.

Magni's breath escape her in a quiet rasp, and she nods very slightly before she leans closer, pulling her wife flush against her, so she can murmur in her ear. The warmth of their skin pressed together, the smooth softness of her skin, the shapes and contours of her dear heart.

Low, almost soft enough that the quiet splash of the water around them could drown it out, if not for how very close they were. "You are Jarl, here. When we were like this. You rule here, because I— I am as I am, and I am afraid of wounding you heart or your body. I could not forgive myself if I did that. When we are together, you rule, always. I am yours to command, and I won't— I won't do anything without your approval." So hushed, her lips grazing the shell of Rani's ear as she speaks, before she eases back very slightly. "I— would like to move against you more, with your permission."

She's nervous, yes, but this is important. They both want this, that much is obvious, but she doesn't want to be the ruler, here, and Rani to feel she must comply as her wife. Rani is too important, for that.

She winds herself in near. Taking quick, shallow breathes, her fingers holding fast still. Pressed chest to chest, gripping hard with her knees. Magni was hard in a way she didn't quite understand until here, this, now, near and close. Strong in a way that, a nudging around the word so particularly she hardly dared breath: hers.

This time, she is the silent one, barely daring to speak as she. Nods, slowly, and the once. But firmly. Unmistakably. "I know you would never hurt me. I," she licks her lips, tasting water on them, trying not to fix on Magni's mouth like a starved thing.

Just that is terribly difficult this close, not too. The half dozen times they've kissed before, sitting at the forefront of her mind. "I trust you with my life." Then, she croaks hoarsely, rocking again, needing so, "Please, touch me."

I trust you with my life. And what she done, she wonders, to have earned such a gift as that?

Resting her forehead against Rani's, Magni exhales a shuddering breath, as she raises her hand. Slowly traces the line of collarbone outwards, slowly trailing down to follow the curve of breast. Hesitant and cautiously spiralling inwards so that her thumb first grazes over Rani's nipple, and then a little firmer. Her other stand is still steadying against Rani's back, as she traces lower, the planes of her abdomen, circling her navel before dropping downwards.

She watches Rani carefully, biting her lip as her hand delays there. Nervous, a little worried, before she more deliberately drags her fingers lower. What experience she has in this is limited only to her imagination, to her own hands wandering in the dark to seek out her own pleasure. At least, she supposes, its gives her some hope of knowing what it is that can bring a woman satisfaction, and she dips down to seek out that point of sensitivity, eyes shutting for a moment as she press against Rani and the ease upward again, so she can roll against it.

If Magni - had. Lakshmi certainly hadn't. Not out of pious chastity, or a lack of curiosity, but never - time, place. Being completely alone enough as first a daughter, or then as a wife, who had maids about her. Some part of her would be too mortified at ever being caught, to risk it even when she spent her days feverishly thinking about it.

Because she doesn't think she could handle it, if someone stopped this, now. Her hands hang on like grim death. Her nails biting into Magni's shoulders, over the lines of those slopping tattoos that cover her back. Realising what is happening and trying not to squirm, to make it difficult for those wondering hands. But it isn't completely possible. Her chest arches, pressing into her palm and fingers. That stroke down, down, down, curving around her hips, where her legs are curled under her.

Lakshmi gasps, jolting sharply into her, one hand slipping off her shoulder as she nearly rolls the rest of the way up her knees. Before she rolls back. Looking for the touch again. A jumble of nerves and words, jitting, desperately trying to contain herself by sliding a hand onto the edge of the bath. Gripping the tub with a hard line of her shoulders tensing. It wasn't just her feverish mind playing tricks her, she did feel warm, felt warm there - more than bath water.

Tentatively, her eyes lowered to watch Magni as she moved. Breathing hard still, she began to move. Mimicking the gesture. Rolling her body back against her hand, working how to shift her weight in a way that makes it smooth. Forces her knees that little bit apart so Magni can touch more.

As Rani jolts, Magni's hand stills. A glance to her, earnest and concerned, in case she'd done something wrong, pressed too hard. Aware of Rani gripping the bath tub and uncertain if that was simply a matter of surprise, or—

But as she settles again, leans into the contact, Magni relaxes. Kisses the line of jaw, and dips her head lower to kiss Rani's neck, as her fingers quicken their circling, and she murmurs against ear. "Hold onto me. You won't hurt me."

It's a little halting, more suggestion than instruction. Her fingers press lower, thumb taking over the pressure, as she very slowly, very carefully, presses one finger against Rani. Does not push inside her immediately, but slowly, slowly starts to press in, and her heart is hammering so hard inside her chest that she feels like she is beyond herself.

"Keep - keep going."

She can barely speak, but as much as Magni had given her, she must give her in return, let her know that it was what she wanted, but she must be able to tell, if not from that croak in her voice. How it turns low,low,low. Adjusting her weight, trusting in Magni's hold on her, she moves her arms as prompted.

Shifting it slightly, all the same. The arm still on her sliding around Magni's neck, bracing around her shoulders. The other returning to grip her forearm, holding her self just that little up that Magni could reach between their bodies easily. Some fitful notion that she had meant to be washing her, touching her, first. That, however, would mean stopping, telling her to let her go, not touch her.

Speech and orders are reserved for those that can make them, and her thoughts and words are neither eloquent nor able to form to her lips. Nerves being scraped against, hips moving as she moves back down, sinking back down. Figure out how it feels, is meant to feel. Magni's broad, working hands are soft for the steam and hot water, clean, and in a way she realises has nothing to do with water, it feels so easy for her to do. With it, her eyes close, settling back, trusting in her, this, that Magni would not push her more than she can stand. A puff of hot air as she exhales, breathing deeply but too fast. "It feels - "

And she realises, she doesn't know how to say how it feels. She feels tight, and hot, gripping in some immeasurable way that when the flutter in her belly pulls in, she can feel it in an altogether different way that makes it clear it isn't enough. That she wants to move in a way that feels completely reckless, demanding, taking and isn't becoming to either of them.

So she does, tilting forward, in the realisation that she has not kissed her. But it isn't the soft exchanges of longing that had filled their recent weeks. It demands as she slants her mouth across Magni's lips. Her own full, half wind-bitten by her first truly harsh winter here, and with it she presses her tongue against her mouth, presses their bodies close and kisses her like she demands more because she is.

And when she pulls back, she's panting earnestly. Her hips are twitching expectantly, looking for more contact, unthinkingly but unerringly. " - like that."

She groans softly at the sound of Rani's voice, that husky roughness, the way it makes her gut twist with wanting. Some part of her wants to roll them over, grind her hips down against her, but— no. This is more careful, safer, means she can keep going as her love has asked. Pushes deeper in, withdraws before pressing back in again. Slow at first, cautious and letting Rani adjust to it some measure, but in truth that kiss and the wanting in her and the way that Rani just is—

Another finger joins the first, and then gradually, gradually she begins to move her hand quicker. Steady, but with her fingers curling just a little, small adjustments of motion to try and see what it is that will make Rani feel best. It's hard, honestly, to make a careful study of it and not just move quick and desperate as she wants to.

A little smile at the corners of her mouth. If it feels like a blistering kiss for Rani, she won't complain. But, she keeps holding Rani closer, keeps treasuring the feeling of their skin sliding together, the tension and heat of her, the way she can move inside her and feel the tension run right though her. Faster, again, as she hungrily seeks out Rani's mouth to kiss her again, needing all of her. And yet she worries, worries that she will hurt her, that she might break her if she is too much, and is trying so hard to contain that wanting even as she moves with that hunger.

If Magni is concerned with overexertion hurting her, Lakshmi is not. But then, she has the wondrous knowledge that, for as quiet and as well presented as the Lady of this house she makes the effort to be, she never was particularly the most fragile of her father's children. It was only through far too much work that she acted that way. Feigned those graces.

But Magni was quickly driving all of that from her. Has to pause, when she feels another feels, feels that stretch that makes her shiver, hot, hotter than the water. The inside of her aches tremendously, her hips rolling that isn't that she knows how to move, only that she must. Leaning her full weight against Magni, chest to chest, hip to hip, her arms tangling around her as she stretches out. Pushes back onto her fingers with a sensation that builds. The water splashing up, over, everywhere around the bath.

But unheeded by it or the propriety or that she should be more considerate in anyone. She doesn't care, she feels - good, full, empty, demanding. A litany of words that have little meaning by themselves but form together to the sharp little cries as she finds the rhtyhm of it between herself and Magni's hand. Her kisses so little to do with a soft touch as her body crests up, sinking down as her arms wind around her, slide over her body. At times, gripping Magni's wrist to thrust her deeper below the water, at others, sliding against her hair, whimpering softly against her lips.

It isn't enough, though, even when she does speed up. Still, too light in a way that is maddening. She doesn't know what to call it, but she's very sure she wants more than light, touches that still ask for permission. Permission has well and truly given.

One hand lowers, grabs the one of Magni's that isn't currently occupied and drops it lower. Not to hold her hand, to wind them together. But to drop it onto her rear, letting Magni's hand smooth over her skin as it's lapped at, and guide her not to smooth her hand over her slowly, meticulously, but to all at once for make Magni's nails sink in that is the way that Lakshmi wants, evidently wants as she tightens around the fingers deep within her. Has to hold a very deep breath that she can't get out. To show her that it was more than alright to take a firm grip, to sink back into her as much as she was into Magni.

"Your fingers are already in me, wife, stop being afraid to touch me." Is breathed out, demanding into her mouth as she moans, softly, teasing, her head dropping to lick a bead of water trickly down Magni's neck from her skin.

Those words from this woman she keeps picturing as so fragile and so delicate are— unexpected, to say the least. She remembers still the earnest, bright smile that first time Magni kissed her, how they'd woken up curled up together, Rani in clothes far too big for her and all the more charming and endearing for it. She had been charmed by her from so early on, protective of her from the first, and she had wanted her so long, but even with knowing that mischievous charm and the playfulness that was held within that proper, noble woman, thinking that wanting her so badly was not somehow an affront to that demure, gentle woman was hard for her.

And now, Rani's hips grind down against her, their bodies are so close, and she almost feels like the air is being stolen from her for how much she keeps wanting. The warmth of her tongue against her neck makes her moan a soft, keening sound that almost gives way to something lower and rougher.

That tongue, but those words. A blush is already burning red over her shoulders and her neck and cheeks, but deepens now. Her eyes, stark blue and briefly worried, before the words, their meaning, truly sinks into her. Comprehension, as she flexes her fingers against Rani’s rear and grips harder. Cautious again, before she reminds herself. Trusts her wife, rather than fretting.

“Fearful?” Teasing a little, retaliation, as she makes herself slow her hand all the more, leaning back with her chin tilting slightly upwards, playfully defiant, though she cannot keep up the ruse for long. She wants to touch Rani too fiercely, wants to make her feel good, and she jerks her closer to kiss her hard, nips her lip before sucking on it.

Less tentative, then. The motions become longer, drawing further before driving back in harder, pulling Rani closer with each thrust and moving faster. Kissing her throat and her jaw, before she murmurs against her ear, low and quiet.

“I’ve been thinking about you for so long. How you feel,” her fingers quicken, and the thrusts come harder, “how you sound.”

Edited 2018-11-27 07:31 (UTC)

The effect is immediate. Her head rolls back, her braid splashing back into the water as it drops away from her body. Finally, at long last, the tension she wants, the focus she wants. It does not feel half made, half worried. Feels like she's wanted.

Feels like those words are all her own, devoured hungrily, biting, as with the touch comes the more important permission, to return it. Sure that Magni's will not leave her, will not stop, when she feels them rock up to the third knuckle all at once, pressing bodily in, "it's yours," she chokes out, trying to suck a breath back in as the words curl all low.

Seldom does she know what passes behind her Jarl's eyes. Often she wonders, even now, even after she has been kissed more than once and thoroughly if those eyes linger on her as more than just a requirement of the position. "When I adorn my body, it is you I think of as I brush against myself, when I say our prayers, it is your name first on my lips. You, yours." She means to bite her neck, but when the fingers speed up, her head rolls, turning to nuzzle against Magni with parted lips, immeasurable now, she is only the things that Magni reduces her in this moment. Her voice growing louder and more disjointed in her cries. Her eyes falling shut like somehow it might drag this out longer but has no more effect than leaving her with how her body burns and the feeling of Magni's breath and touch and heat.

Because if there were servants hanging about to know whether this marriage was now consummated, there could be no mistaking her voice. Pitched high, desperate, guttural honest, she didn't know what she was working for, towards, when this fever would break, just that if it didn't she was never going to be able to stand even being brushed against again.

Rani consumes her thoughts so often, and yet it feels somehow surreal that she might occupy her thoughts, as well. So cautious and so contained since past heartbreak, and not especially experienced in the ways of the heart beyond that attachment. It was not the way of things, was it? Purity and reputation could be so easily jeopardised. And this closeness, this moment was so important— she had been afraid to rush into it, to treat it as anything less than sacred.

A shudder rolls up her back, and she kisses her throat desperately, her jaw and her cheek. Would claim her lips, but those cries are too intoxicating and so instead she rests her forehead against Rani's cheek or her temple, wherever she might reasonably be able to do so with her head falling back. Her moves quicker, and then her fingers flex, pressing upward to that point which seemed to draw stronger reactions from her Rani, curving and pressing to try and bring her release and satisfaction.

Her other hand drags up Rani's back, so her fingers can tangle into her hair, and she tilts her head to murmur in her ear. "And I'm yours. All of me is yours." My heart, she would say, but her voice is too rough and she is trying to move quicker, muscles tensing and coiling.

"Magni," she seizes her with both her hands desperately slipping on her wet skin with her equally damp hands. Pressing their bodies together as tightly as she can.

Because she was wrong, she was wrong, it wasn't that if this didn't go anywhere. It was the damning knowledge of how she feels now. Where before it was heat, now it is flames. Her nerves searing inside of her skin. How was she supposed to know how to move away ever again, no thought to quiet herself, to let go, to ease back how her nails drag on steam-soft skin. Biting into her as her spine snaps straight, still, gasping, eyes screwed shut. No, she can't undo how this feels, how Magni had made her come so wholly apart. Like all her edges had unravelled, guttering against the wind, jumping to the closest surface as fire is want. All separated and not at all herself for how it escapes her.

Until she could stand no more, she sags down against her. Laying her head against her shoulder, utterly collapsed beyond movement. Her eyes still shut, her breath coming ragged as if she'd run a mile. Might have, her legs are shaking, below the water. Unable to lift herself even if she wanted too. But she doesn't, she doesn't want to separate even a part of them, wants to stay like this as long as she could.

To hear her name spoken like that— it leaves a wanting in her that she scarce knows what to do with. To hear Rani so wanting, as she grasped onto her is beyond her ability to describe. Her abdomen tenses, and she has to remind herself to take a breath, that she can breathe at all.

Her own wanting, though, is something she can set aside in favour of soft, soothing sounds. Carefully (a habit not easily broken by those desperate demands of before) Magni draws her fingers away from Rani, slow, making sure not to inadvertently jostle her in her tenderness, until she can bring both arms to loosely embrace her wife. She can feel the pleasant, lingering sting from Rani's nails. Tiger-marks, she thinks fondly. One of her arms is loosely slung about Rani's waist, the other trailing very slow and very light up and down her spine to soothe her, guide her breathing to steadiness as they lean together.

She will be still, gladly so, just enjoying this new closeness between them, the feeling of her weight and the shudder of her breath, that faint trembling. She's sure she should say something, but she cannot think of a single thing that could do justice to this moment, and so she holds her silence, and just commits all of this to memory.

She whines softly into her ear for the loss, still too strung out for her nerves to take the movement completely silent. But once it stops, she settles again, she settles back without further complaint.

"I have never felt such a thing," she admits quietly after they have been quiet for a time. Freely she could admit she did not have Magni's gift for silence, but right now, clever things were quite beyond her to say. Sighing warmly and lightly, leaning into the touches, enjoying them for what they were was far easier. But she stirs against her.

The laugh is perhaps blissfull in the naivety she otherwise enjoyed about all of this. Except for the way her mother had taken her aside to talk her through what must be expected in a bedchamber of her. "I see why people seek it out."

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