Chapter Forty-One
Orval’s heart filled with joy even as his arms filled with Amari, warm, wonderful woman that she was. Orval returned her kiss with all the passion in his heart. He wrapped his arms around her, felt her breasts press to his chest, and fully engaged in a moment more precious than all the others in his life.
Until she murmured “Hearth Father” in his ear, and dashed cold, icy reality on his dream.
“Amari, no, no.” He broke off the kisses, and eased her away from him. The warmth of her body was replaced with the chill of the truth.
“What?” Amari’s eyes were wide with confusion, her breathing ragged. She reached for him but he caught her hands.
“Amari, this is just the heat of the moment, the elation that we succeeded.” Orval tried to control his own reaction. “This is not what you want.” He had to make her understand. He wanted this, oh, how he wanted this - but it was not right to take advantage. He wanted what was best for her, and he was not—
“It is,” she insisted.
“It’s not,” he answered, smiling sadly, reaching up to cup her cheek. “You are making a mistake you will come to regret.”
“Orval, I—”
“I understand, I do,” he said earnestly. “But I won’t take advantage of you this way, not in the flush of success, of our survival through this whole thing. The last few months have been the best of my life, even with the threat of death,” he looked over at the babes. “They are okay, yes?”
“Yes, of course,” she started. “But—”
“No ‘buts,’” Orval drew a deep breath. “I’m not going to let you make this mistake. I am not right to be one of your Hearth Fathers, and after a few days you will know that and regret this.” He managed to step away from her. “Now, go get under the blankets, or you will catch a chill. I’ll just be a moment.”
He didn’t flee to the privy, exactly, but he didn’t linger. The distance seemed to take forever, but that was only because his leg was tired. Exhaustion was washing over him. Or was it grief?
He didn’t look back at Amari.
With the privy door closed behind him, he went to the shelf where a pitcher of water and a basin waited. He splashed water on his face, trying to get himself under control.
He’d convinced her heart, he was certain.
Now he just had to convince his own.
Amari plopped down on the end of the bed, and stared at the privy door.
Had she misread Orval’s interest?
She flushed. Maybe. She wasn’t untouched, after all. She’d had a baby and she wasn’t a virgin any longer. Her body wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination; it had changed, from pregnancy and birth. She pulled her robe closer around her.
On the other hand…for one brief, glorious moment, he’d returned her kisses. And she’d felt him responding to her.
Amari bit her lip as confusion overwhelmed her. Maybe he was right, maybe it was just the stress of the moment, the tensions of the last few months. Maybe she—
The door opened and he stepped out, looking somehow both sheepish and determined.
Warmth flooded through her, settled in her chest, and bloomed. This wasn’t a spur of the moment thought, it wasn’t an impulse.
Her hearth stood before her.
“We should get some sleep.” Orval didn’t look at her as he limped to his side of the bed. “We need to talk to the elders tomorrow and hopefully Xydell will finally wake up. It would be good if she could tell us more about these people.”
He was babbling nervously as he pulled back the bedding and climbed in. He stretched out on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Did the babes feed well?”
“Yes,” Amari stood and pulled back the bedding on her side. “How is your leg?”
“Not too bad tonight,” he said quietly as she lay down and covered herself.
Amari curled on her side to face him, staring at his profile. She took a breath, determined to speak.
“No,” Orval forestalled her. “We are not going to discuss this. The marcusi may appear tomorrow to get you and the babes to safety. I am not going to let you make a mistake out of gratitude. I know that you should choose your Hearth Fathers for their ability to defend the Hearth and—”
He blithered on, but Amari had stopped listening. “Hearth Fathers ?” she said with a frown, interrupting his declarations. “You mean, more than one Hearth Father?” Had he said that before?
“Yes, of course,” Orval said. “I know your people take multiple fathers into the Hearth, and I read the standards that you should follow. We would be fooling ourselves if we…”
He kept talking, but the joy in her breast drowned out his words. She propped her head up with her hand, and looked at him, staring at the ceiling, rattling on.
She moved her foot, tucking her toes under his calf. Orval gave her a startled look.
“My toes are cold,” she said, keeping her face straight. “Do you mind?”
“Er, no, it’s fine.” Orval said and continued on with a list of why he wasn’t suitable as a Hearth Father.
She rubbed her foot up and down his leg, and tucked her other foot under as well.
Orval darted a glance at her, but kept on until he finally wound down.
“What book did you read?” she asked. “About Hearth Fathers?”
“Oh, well,” Orval relaxed, as he always did when discussing books. “It was Uyole: A Fine and Noble Land by Verismet. I also had a copy of Birth Rituals of Foreign Lands and Rare Matriarchal Cultures , which went into detail about the bracelets and their significance.” He sucked in a breath as she rubbed his skin with her toes. “Are your feet warm yet?”
“No,” she said, and kept rubbing. “All this time,” she mused aloud, “all this time, you thought this? You cared for us, and preserved us, and all this time you thought this about yourself? That you are not worthy?”
Orval blinked at her, then returned his gaze to the ceiling. “Of course,” he said. “It has always been so, you know.”
That calm acceptance of what was, with no trace of blame or self-pity, cracked her heart.
“Orval,” she whispered. “How old were these books of yours?”
“Oh, well…” Orval’s brow furrowed in thought. “Well, A Fine and Noble Land is fairly recent, within the last twenty years or so. I don’t recall the date of Rare Matriarchal Cultures but it has a reputation as a fine translation.” He finally turned his head and looked at her. “Why? Is there a problem? My sources are primary and—”
Amari moved then, sliding to lie on top of him, pinning him to the bed. “It’s my turn to school you in history.”
“Amari,” Orval put his hands on her shoulders, as if to move her off.
She resisted, placing a finger over his lips. “In the time of what you call the Mage Wars, yes, it’s true that a woman would have multiple hearth fathers. At one point, my forefathers feared that our people would die out, or inbreed past saving, so great was the destruction.”
Orval stared at her.
“Now, how long ago was that?” Amari asked.
“Hundreds of years,” Orval whispered, and she could see understanding dawning in his eyes. “Customs change?” he asked hopefully.
“Customs change,” she said, cupping his cheek with one hand.
“I got the part about the bracelets right, though.”
“Yes, you did.”
“But no multiples?” She ached at the hope in his voice.
“I won’t say that it doesn’t happen,” Amari said. “There are multiples, but that is the exception, not the rule. People contract for marriage as they please.”
“Oh,” Orval said and swallowed hard.
“And I please,” Amari kissed his jaw. “To have one Hearth Father. My hearth is here,” she put her hand on his chest, felt his heart beating wildly under her palm.
“Oh.” Orval was wide-eyed, staring at her.
“So, my chosen Hearth Father.” Amari brushed her lips against his. “You of the tremendous heart and mind and whose body I desire, may I kiss you?”
The tears in his eyes caught her by surprise. “Are you sure, Amari? Please be sure. Because the last few months, with all the chaos it has brought, have been the best months of my life.” His breath was ragged. “I can’t imagine not having you at my side.”
“I am sure, so sure, beloved.” Amari teared up as well. “Unless you do not desire me, my body is not perfect and—”
“You are wonderful,” Orval scolded her. “And perfect and beautiful. But we could be killed tomorrow, the marcusi may come, the people of the Black Hills may kill us. Life is so uncertain, with no promises, no assurance beyond our next breath.”
“Yes,” Amari smiled through her tears. “And the babes might awaken at any moment. Our lives are fraught and fragile. But our hearts are strong and steadfast.”
Orval nodded, reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheek. “The only certainty is how we feel for each other. We will build on that.”
“Our hearts are one. My hearth is here, in the beating of your heart.” Amari said. “So, are we done now? Have I convinced you?”
“Yes,” Orval said. “Yes, a thousand times yes.”
“Good,” she said. “Because we have wasted enough time.” She shifted then, pressing her hips down on his hips, feeling his body respond as his eyes went even wider.
“Amari,” Orval gasped as she sat up, tossing back the bedding and pulling her night shift up and off. “Oh, skies above,” he gasped, looking at her with every bit of desire that she could ask for. “Amari, yes, please, but I don’t - I’ve read but I haven’t—”
She leaned in. “I know,” she whispered back. “And I claim the privilege. I want to ravish you.” She brought his hand to her breast. “But maybe we should go slow, for your first—”
Orval shifted his hips under her. “No, no, please feel free to—”
She leaned down and kissed him hard, pressing her lips to his and sliding her tongue into his mouth. Hot, warm, and so sweet.
All the sweeter for the need for haste, but she wouldn’t really ravish him. That word was too harsh for what she intended.
Because she intended kisses, long and slow, all over his body as she eased his night robe off. Orval’s initial shyness faded as she caressed him, admiring his pale white skin that seemed so frail in comparison to her strong brown, but was not.
She intended touches and strokes, letting him explore her body, showing him what pleased her, when to be gentle, and when to be firm. She arched up, urging him on as he explored her depths with his hands. Hesitant at first, Orval grew confident as she guided his fingers; her release caught her by surprise as she clung to him and moaned.
“I did that!” Orval’s pride was clear and she laughed softly and nodded, and kissed him, easing him back so that she could sit astride him once again. She wanted him hard, and wanting, before she—
“Precautions?” he whispered. “Do we need to worry about—”
“It’s fine,” she whispered, loving him even more for the thought. “I’m nursing,” she explained.
“Oh, okay—” then reason fled his eyes as she moved.
And because she intended joy, she took him inside herself, his flesh firm against her, and moved, listening to the smart, rational man beneath her babble endearments as his eyes reflected the wonder of it all. When Orval clamped both hands on her hips and arched his hips up, gaining his release deep within her, she rode the waves of her own pleasure before collapsing at his side.
He pulled her close, their breathing slowing together as the sweat dried on their bodies.
Orval covered her face with kisses. “Amari, that was…I have no words.”
She chuckled, putting her head on his shoulder, infinitely pleased. “You? Wordless?” she
kissed just below his ear, taking in the heady scent of their bodies.
“I think I might need to create a few,” he whispered and they both laughed. Orval moved his arm to pull the blankets over them. “Perhaps in the morning—”
Dalan shrieked.
They both jerked in surprise, then Orval laughed again. “I’ll get him,” he said and climbed out of bed, presenting Amari with a lovely view of his backside. She admired him as she pulled herself up and propped pillows behind her.
Orval clucked at Dalan as he carried him back. “Are you hungry, little one?” He handed him to Amari, then turned back to get Lara.
Dalan sucked fiercely; a pleasant pain. Amari cradled him close.
Orval returned with Lara, just starting to wake. He placed her on the bed beside Amari. “I’ll just see to a few things.”
He lit more candles, brought cold water for them both to drink, then retrieved his night robe from the floor and placed it at the foot of the bed. Finally he crawled back into bed with her and made sure to cover them all in a warm nest. Orval rested on one elbow as he looked at them all with the oddest look on his face.
“What is it, love?” she asked.
“Oh, it just occurs to me,” Orval said, as Lara reached to grasp his finger. He looked at Amari, his eyes shining. “There are some things not to be learned from books.”