Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
REM’EB
T he time I spend with Tia is a gift.
There are no water clocks to mark time above, no tide-rise and tide-fall. Instead, they judge days by daylight and when it fades. Several of these days pass as Tia and I enjoy resonance. We are lost with one another, always kissing and caressing. I love touching her and her soft brown skin. I love sinking my fingers into the tangling coils of her mane.
And I especially love when she wakes me up from sleep, tossing a leg over my hips and sinking down onto my erect cock, just as she does this morning. I groan, surging into her, and pump my hips. I sink deep into her, relentless, until my frill unfurls and blooms inside her. She gasps, her knees locking against my sides, her palms pressing on my chest, and rides me with tiny motions, dragging out our joined pleasure.
It is easy to tell when my mate is sated, because her entire body clenches around me and she trembles. Until I get that tremble, I know to hold off on my own pleasure…or to drag hers to the forefront with a few touches to her cunt. This time, she comes just by the plunge of my cock deep against her womb, and Tia arches her back, shivering as she squeezes my cock deep inside her. When she collapses over my chest with a languid moan, I know she is well-pleased. I stroke a hand up and down her back, petting her soft skin.
When she recovers, she props her chin up on my chest and smiles at me, a sated expression on her face. “Hungry, Rem’eb?”
She makes a gesture with her hand, indicating eating, but I have learned a few of her words by now. I nod and she slips off of me, moving across her crude hut to where she keeps a pitcher of fresh water. Her friends have been leaving food and drink just outside the hut for us, and no doubt her entire tribe is aware that we are fulfilling resonance. Something like that is celebrated back in the caves, so I see no reason why it would not be celebrated here.
I put two of my hands behind my head and watch appreciatively as she moves. Her steps are light and almost gliding, her delightful backside bouncing with her motions. I like watching her naked. It is a shame it is so very cold above, because she looks delectable in nothing but her skin.
Tia washes up, wets a towel for me and then tosses it in my direction. I catch it in one hand, ice-cold water splattering everywhere the moment I close my fingers around it.
Sputtering, I sit up. “That’s cold!”
She just laughs at my misery and moves to the food, picking through what’s left on the tray for us. “Fish? Roots? Sumtinelse ?”
“Take whatever you wish. I will have what is left.” I wipe my cock down, trying not to wince at the cold, cold water against my sensitive, overheated skin. We have mated so many times in the last few days that my cock actually aches, my frill swollen from overuse. Not that it has stopped us. Resonance has been relentless.
Relentless…and possibly the most enjoyable experience ever.
I glance over at my mate as she fills a plate for us, humming to herself, and she has small marks on her skin from me sucking on her too enthusiastically. I know there are scratches on my back from her nails, but I wear these small pains gladly.
She returns to my side and instead of sitting next to me, Tia sets the plate down and immediately pushes her way into my lap.
“Oho,” I chuckle, amused at her bossiness. “What is this?”
“ Wahrm seet ,” she tells me, and wiggles her bottom. She leans her back against my front, picks up the plate, and holds a bite of something up to my lips.
I take it from her, chewing. Salted fish jerky. Not my favorite, but a decent bite. She takes a nibble of the same, relaxing in my arms. Once I finish chewing, I rest my chin atop her head. Tia is smaller than me, but I like her size. “You fit in my arms perfectly. Did you notice that?”
“Yes.” Her voice is full of amusement. “ Ezee tadoowhen urhuuge .”
I do not mark any of that, and I bite back my frustration. Like a selfish creature, I want to devour all her words, and I hate that any of them slip away. I want to know what she is thinking, what makes her laugh, everything. We can communicate some, with gestures, facial expressions, and a few shared words…but it is not enough.
She always grows sad when I mention I cannot understand her, so I avoid that. Today, I decide, I want nothing but smiles from my lovely mate. I stroke her coiling hair and then reach over her shoulder to snatch a piece of food from the plate. “Will you work on your loom today?”
“Mmm,” Tia says, but I do not know what that answer means. She glances over at the loom off to the side of her hut. Since we have fallen into bed together, we have attempted to work on the loom, but without much success. Our minds have been on… other things. It looks correct to me, but I do not know much about looms. Tia is not entirely satisfied with it, and continues to toy with the strings and the comb-like bar that dangles from them.
“Or…we could eat and return to the furs? And I can kiss all my favorite places upon your body.”
Tia chuckles, turning her head to glance up at me. “ Hol day?”
“It might take all of the day, indeed,” I muse, guessing at the other part of her words. “I have many favorites.”
She offers me another tidbit, reaching back, and I nibble it from her fingers. “Loom yes,” she says after a moment. “ Eyetink ?—”
There is a noisy rattle just outside the hut, making me jump to my feet. Tia scrambles for the furs, and I look for a weapon.
“ S’door ,” Tia calls, throwing a fur at me. “Door!”
She gestures frantically at the entrance, even as she slides a tunic over her naked form, and it takes me a moment longer to follow.
“ Ooos der ?” Tia calls out.
Ah. The entrance .
“Noj’me the Attendant,” calls out a far-too-cheerful voice. “May I enter?”
Tia’s eyes go wide and she slides the blankets over her bare legs, gesturing at me. I wrap the fur around my hips in a loose kilt and then grab my discarded belt and tie it on. Tia’s hut is a mess of discarded clothes and tousled furs. We have not been paying attention to keeping things tidy these last few days, and I pick up a few scattered items even as I head for the entrance.
I open the door, squinting at the brightness outside, and a cold gust of wind strikes my face.
“ Gesswe gunnahaf cumpnee hafterall ,” Tia mutters behind me.
Noj’me gives us a bright smile as she steps inside. “Greetings to you both! I hope it is all right that I pay you a visit. Set’nef the Wanderer said I should leave you be, but I figure one does not find the answer to a question if one does not ask, eh?” She pushes past me and rubs her sleeves. “It is quite cold outside. Your fire is so low—do you need help with it?”
“We were warm enough,” I say, and it is an effort to remain polite as Noj’me settles herself by the fire pit. The hut has been cozy enough, but now that Noj’me has entered, so has the chill. I let the flap fall once more, then pull another fur over myself as I move to sit next to Tia, and tuck another fur around her.
She smiles up at me, but her smile is forced.
I understand how she feels. I am struggling not to feel resentful of Noj’me’s presence here. When it was simply myself and Tia in this hut, I could forget about duty. I could forget about my father, waiting below for my return, or the rebels who might even now be plotting against him. Noj’me is a reminder of my people, from the beaded necklaces she wears atop her fur tunic to the horns that she has decorated with little fur puffs on the ends. I know she is only being friendly and inquisitive—and it is the Attendant’s duty to learn as much as possible—but I still want her to leave.
I want to push her back out onto the cold beach and close the flap of the door, and forget we ever saw her. Pull Tia in my arms again and not think about the rest of the world.
Noj’me looks around the hut as I settle furs around my mate. Her gaze moves to the loom and she turns to look at me. “Did you break that?”
“No. We cannot figure it out and I did not have time to ask.”
She chuckles and jumps to her feet, her tail swishing. She moves to the loom, eyes it, and then moves the comb-like bar and props another up. Immediately, the threads straighten and Tia gasps, forgetting all about me. My mate crawls across the hard floor to the loom and starts touching everything. “Dis?” she asks Noj’me.
“That is the heddle. You had it in the wrong place. It fits into one of these sets of notches, to raise half of the strings. Look. You create a gap between the warp threads here—that is the shed—the shed rod makes the space bigger—and you feed the weft thread through the space. There are two shed rods on this loom, and perhaps that is why you have struggled. They are used in combination with your heddle to create more intricate patterns. Here, let me show you.”
Tia’s eyes are wide as Noj’me gives a demonstration, and when she pulls the comb down, it settles the new thread against the rest of the half-woven project. When my mate makes an incredulous sound, I know she is happy.
Some of my grudging sourness at Noj’me’s presence fades. “We thank you for your help. We have been looking at it for many eves now, trying to figure it out.”
“Not trying very hard,” Noj’me teases. “In fairness, you have been distracted.”
Tia says nothing. She is too busy feeding a piece of the loom—the weft—through the alternating threads, her fingers trembling with excitement. I am forgotten for the moment, and I feel a surge of jealousy over the loom, as well. Must I share my mate with both it and Noj’me? “How did you know how to work the loom?”
“As attendant, it is my job to know things.”
“Is this why you are here, then?” I ask. “To show off your knowledge?”
My mate turns, surprised at my tone. I flush with embarrassment at my rudeness. It is not that I dislike Noj’me. It is that she represents everything I am trying to forget.
If the cheerful Attendant is hurt by my words, she does not show it. Her smile remains bright as she turns to me. “I did not come to speak of looms at all. I came to see when we will go to the great ship. It has been many days now, and I am eager to see the Oracle’s ancestor. And now that I am here, I can hear for myself that your resonance song is different. Does this mean we will go soon? Yes?”
Her eagerness is palpable. I hate to disappoint her, and open my mouth to say just that…when I pause.
Is our resonance song different? I have grown so accustomed to its hum, its ceaseless energy that I haven’t noticed the change. But Noj’me is right. The once-insistent khui song has slowed to a more contented, almost sleepy sound.
Resonance has been fulfilled.
Tia is carrying my child now.
I look over at my mate, shocked. She clutches a hand to her chest, over her heart, and her expression is just as stunned as my own. Neither of us had realized this. It took an outsider coming into our cozy nest and pointing out the obvious.
Tia blinks, and I wait for her to say something to me. To say she is happy. Relieved. Glad to move forward. If she is joyous, then I think I can live with this. But she only turns to Noj’me, her hand still over her breast, and says a few soft words I do not make out.
Noj’me turns to me, beaming. “She is right. There is no reason to delay further. Shall we leave tomorrow, then?”
Tomorrow?
It feels so sudden.
I want to stay in this hut with Tia forever. I want to nibble on the foods left for us and then return to the furs for more kisses and caresses. I want her underneath me or on top of me, and then we collapse together, sated and content. I want to see her weave her first project on the loom and the pride she will have on her face.
I want to watch her belly grow round with my child and watch it come into this world.
But I am Chief’s son. I am the Fist. And because of that, I do not get any of this. I must help my people, no matter what it costs me.
I look over at Tia, and the sadness is back in her eyes, her shoulders slumped with defeat. She knows what I am thinking, and no words are needed. We both know.
“Tomorrow,” I agree, hiding my despair. “Will you inform Set’nef the Wanderer and Tal’nef the Swiftest on my behalf, Noj’me?”
“Of course! I shall tell the others!” She jumps to her feet, regarding us.
“Others,” I echo, trying to think. “What others?”
“The human clowns and the taters.”
“Clones,” Tia murmurs, her mouth quirking. “Clones, not clowns.”
“Cloooohns,” Noj’me agrees. “The words are very similar. You said we could bring others with us, and so I have asked around. I have told them we are leaving to go find the Great Ancestor and some of them wish to join us. Colleen does, and one of the taters. Another female, too. And we cannot forget R’jaal the Stranger and Rosalind the Berry-and.”
So many. It makes me want to go on this journey even less, because it means I will not have much time alone with my mate. Yet I made this promise to her. How can I go back on it now? “Invite who you like,” I say wearily. I do not care who comes along. “Just make sure they are ready in the morning.”
“Wonderful,” Noj’me announces and gets to her feet. “If we are leaving in the morning, we must pack now. I should speak with the others. Unless you wish to meet with them first? Or should we wait until the weather is nicer? Perhaps we should see if?—”
“We go tomorrow,” I say, my gaze on Tia. She will not look me in the eye. I keep watching her, even as I answer Noj’me. “Even if it is snowing. If they are not ready to go by sunrise, they will not be coming with us.”
“Eep!” Noj’me races out of the hut with a laugh. “We will be ready! See you at sunrise!”
The door flap slaps shut behind her, and then I am left alone with Tia. My sweet, lovely, fragile stranger. She stares at her hands in her lap, all the excitement from the loom gone. She does not speak.
“The sooner we leave, the sooner I will be able to understand you,” I tell her. “It is for the best.”
“ Swut we hagreed on ,” she says, voice gentle. Her hands twist in her lap. “ S’fine .”
I do not need words to know what she is thinking. I know, because I am thinking the same. We agreed to this and yet…it feels too sudden, too soon. I want another handful of days of resonance. I want a handful of turns. I am not ready, either.
Yet I must do my duty. It is the job of the chief’s son.
I remind myself that the lives of many are worth more than the happiness of myself and of Tia. Returning is the right thing to do…and I am so tired of it all. For once, I want to do the wrong thing, the selfish thing.
“I am sorry, Tia.”
She looks up at me, and her eyes are shimmering with unshed tears. But she shakes her head and crawls across the floor toward me. “No, no. No sorry.” She slides into my lap and cups my face with her hands. “No sorry. Wegreed. S’our deel .”
“I wish I did not have my obligations to my people,” I tell her, a knot in my throat. How can I leave her behind? It will be like leaving half of myself behind. I cannot even think about the child we have made, or I will be utterly destroyed.
“ S’our deel ,” Tia repeats softly, and tilts my face down so she can kiss me. “No sorry.”
I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. It does not matter if it was what we agreed upon or not. I still hate it.I hate it, and time feels as if it is sweeping away from us, like the water that sweeps back from the shore.
Far too aware of losing what time we have left, I kiss my mate hungrily, bearing her down into the furs. If we only have a few days left together, let all of them be full of touches and joy. I kiss her and kiss her, and ignore the knot in my throat that will not leave.