CHAY
The revelry spilled out of the empty houses that had been hospitals until this morning and filled the streets. Lanterns glowed against the dark, and a bonfire called anyone who was feeling better. Parties of people armed with bread and blankets rounded up anyone who was still sheltering.
And, as ever, she was at the center of it all.
Thomas stopped beside me, the look he sent around the gathered people assessing. “Starting to settle, now,” he told me. “She ought to get back.”
He hadn’t told her that, though. I sipped my juice, content to wait out his impatience.
I watched the woman filling cups head straight to Audrey, again. She’d had her share, and I couldn’t begrudge her that, but not so much I was concerned. So when I saw the woman holding the jugs trip, I wasn’t at all surprised that Audrey caught her.
Isolde was there before the group was reacting, rightening the woman. Thomas and I made our way through the shock and laughter to where Audrey stood, soaked in wine and reassuring the woman that she wasn’t upset.
She stank like the feast-hall floor, but she was still laughing, red stains down her front.
“Come on,” Isolde said, briskly. “Time for us to return anyway.”
“My lady,” a nearby man bowed, his cheeks red from the wine, wearing the uniform of the mid-town merchant; nice boots, passable cloak, fancy clasp. “The bathhouse is nearby. ‘Tis too far to return in wet clothes. Come.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose,” she said, but her feet went with him a few steps.
“It’s no imposition,” he promised. “Your mother used to bathe with us exclusively before she married.”
A hush fell around us, and then a rush of forced revelry, as if everyone had been shocked to silence, then moved to cover it.
Interesting.
The tidbit had sold Audrey. She followed him, and we moved through the crowd away from the lights. “We have the best system in the city,” he was telling her. “It’s past time we hosted you, my lady! I’ve the perfect bath for you.” He lent in a little and murmured something. I couldn’t see Audrey’s expression from the place behind them, but I saw the sharpness of Isolde’s look, and judged that he’d mentioned her mother again.
I lent in close to Thomas. “Know him?”
He nodded, and said, “Good place. High quality.”
I nodded, relaxing again. The man was merely drumming up business. If he could again brag that their bathhouse was the only one used by the Lady of La’Angi, it wouldn’t hurt his reputation.
The building was a long one, nestled up alongside the Inner South Wall. We were encouraged in through what I assumed was the entry for the rich. “It’ll take a moment for the water to heat,” he told us. “It’s all magework. No one has been in this section for weeks, but by the time you’re ready for it, my lady, the water will be the perfect temperature.”
Magework lights came on as he showed us into the stone corridor, then through the first door. Thomas and I were stopped. “This is for the guards,” he said, his smile still big and warm as he looked at us. “It’ll warm here, too, friends.” Audrey and Isolde were taken further in. The sound of running water met by ears.
There were two seats, an empty vase, and a table done in the elaborate style of a fancy inn’s outdoor area. It happened to be just big enough to throw dice, from the look of it.
Thomas settled into his spot, leaning back. His face settled into lines of exhaustion. One of his hands was bandaged.
I heard the rise and fall of conversation in the next room. “You haven’t had a break in a while, have you?”
“Haven’t had the men,” he said, rousing. “Sorry.”
I shook my head. “Go sleep, Thomas. We came this far breaking the rules. Tonight’s the last night anyone will be concerned about.”
He protested, of course. Before I could work on him a little more, the bathhouse hawker appeared, beaming at us. “Now the lady’s settled,” he said, “You could both take a quick dip over the way, if you’d like? Don’t worry, she’s safe as a clam.” I followed where he indicated, trying to imagine how safe a clam was. “The whole place is locked up. Don’t go,” he waved a hand toward the darkness. “We, uh. We had to close. Warmth, you know?”
It was going to be an ongoing problem. I tried not to think on those who might have sought refuge in the warmth of the bathhouse. And may still be there, now.
“Clean tabards and so forth,” he said, waving toward a door. Another magework light flickered to life, illuminating a wide room with a large pool in the center. “We’ve a contract with the guard. Not the Blackguard,” he added, with a chuckle. When he gazed at us, his eyes shone like coins. “Not yet. But still, ‘tis the night for bending the rules, no? And the lady’s nose will be sensitive after she’s cleaned. I’m sure she’d appreciate it if you’d,” he wiggled his hips a little, grinning at us. Thomas went to protest, and he held up his hands. “But of course, sir, you do as is appropriate. I’ve business to attend elsewhere. The doors will lock when you leave, and it’ll all shut off come morning.”
I looked at the big pool. It was wide enough to swim in, clearly made for multiple people, and steam rose in inviting tendrils from the still surface. Thomas wasn’t budging on it, though. We went back to the waiting area, and I settled in, imagining Audrey stripping out of all of those layers and slipping beneath the water. I rubbed a hand over my face, imagining I could still smell her.
Thomas paced a little, and I shut my eyes. If only he’d had business elsewhere. Isolde, I suspected, could be distracted by a scouting mission of the bathhouse, or mayhap the city level. But Thomas stood around like a bump on a log.
Isolde appeared, clothing in her hands. “You,” she said, to Thomas. “Please assist me.” She passed over the wine-stained dress. “There’s more. I can’t carry it all.”
His expression softened. “Of course. How do you fare?”
She didn’t bother to respond, turning and running her eyes over me, the look searing.
Heat rushed through my veins at the quickness of Isolde’s steps and the vaguely disapproving set of her mouth.
Audrey had asked her to leave, and take Thomas with her. Surely, it was the only explanation.
The Matri’sion appeared holding a basket in each hand, overflowing with familiar fabric. “Come on,” she told Thomas.
There was no other look sent my way. Thomas didn’t complain, but left insisting he carry more of the weight. Isolde had lost condition, it was true. It was also true that Audrey probably wouldn’t miss even half of those items if she discarded them here and never had them returned. I listened to them go, the door swinging shut behind them. The sounds of the city were far away, and my heartbeat was loud in my ears.
Water splashed. My mouth went dry as I heard the soft fall of footsteps. She was tired, or in her cups, to be so noisy. Both.
Her face appeared in the doorway, her hair wet and smooth against her skull, her body angled so only one bare shoulder showed.
I was being summoned. Far be it for me to shirk my service.
Her smile was quick and full of mischief, but her eyes flickered past me questioningly.
“They’re gone.” Barely. She’d been waiting, clearly. Strategizing. “Did you ask Isolde?”
“I told her to go rest, and take my things to soak,” she said, reaching for me. “I knew she couldn’t carry it all.” Some of the levity faded just in time for me to see the expanse of her glistening skin, h. There was worry in her eyes, and her long mouth was pulled gently to one side. “And she doesn’t think much of Thomas.” Audrey’s hand wrapped in mine and I followed her into the room. There was less space around the edges, here. The pool was elaborate, the rocks arranged to almost look natural. A false waterfall came from the wall. Moss grew over rocks, and steam rose from the water. The magework lights were delicate things inside carved flowers, and hanging from the ceiling on fine threads.
“I didn’t ask what this room would usually be hired for,” she said, following my gaze. “It’s the fanciest, I’m sure.”
“No doubt.” I ran the pad of my thumb over the dip of her wrist, letting her lead me to the water. I was more than willing to drink. The pool was lit with a soft glow, and she squeezed my hand before slipping back in, letting out a breath as she went.
“It’s so warm,” she said, happily. “You should come in.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Her expression had softened. She moved over to the lip of the bath closest to me, one hand flat against a flat part of the rocky edge, her chin propped on top. Her eyes glowed like another set of delicate magework lights as they trailed down my chest, settling on my belt.
As if drawn to it by her attention, I lifted my fingers to the knot and eased the tension on the leather.
My mind skipped back to the conversation we’d had this morning, when it had felt like we’d had so little time, and she’d expressed regret about having not had the opportunity last night—only last night?—to try something.
“Do you have any requests?” I asked her, wrapping the leather around my scabbard and propping it nearby.
The smile returned at the question, tugging at the edges of her lips and lighting up her whole face. “You.”
I stripped off the tabard and set to work on the toggles of my gambeson, considering that. “Is that nonspecific because you don’t know what to ask for, or because you aren’t comfortable?”
“The first one,” she admitted.
As the myriad of things I could show her ran through my head, all of the options we could explore, I tossed aside the coat and set to work on my shirt. Her eyes devoured me, and the way a smile tugged up the corners of her mouth made me feel like I’d just been blessed by a god. She tracked the passage of my hands. It was a small wonder no steam was coming off me.
Sending up a small blessing that she knew exactly how to position Isolde, who knew how to work Thomas, I tugged off my boots.
She reached out a hand and the smile she sent my way went straight to my guts. I caught it, lifting her knuckles to my lips. Her hand twisted to cradle my face. Drops of warm water ran down my throat from her fingers, and awareness rippled along my skin.
The lacings of my pants gave way and she released me, moving back through the water, making space for me in the pool. Her eyes had dipped down to my cock and I felt her attention like a caress. Thoughts of how I could return it clamored in my skull. The water distorted her body, the lights only illuminating the suggestion of the long, strong limbs I’d barely had time to sample.
The doors were locked. We were alone. Everyone was drunk or on their way to it, and everything was right in our world for now.
She watched me from big, serious eyes as I lowered myself into the water, no longer smiling, her lips parted ever so slightly. The pool was chest deep on me, though there were seats around the edge to allow for rest. Whilst it took me a moment to get my bearings, she stayed an arm’s length away in the water, covered to her chin. I recognized the intensity in her gaze and the single-minded focus that could bring me undone. Sure enough, she was reaching for me almost before I’d entered the water. I caught one of her hands, lifting it to my lips.
I watched the expressions flickering over her face as I grabbed the a ball of the standard issue soap with my free hand.
As she moved back a little, it made her hair flow around her under water. Where it stuck to her neck and molded over her head above the water, it looked a dark brown. Beneath the water, it glowed red. I resisted the urge to tangle my fingers in it. “Don’t you want me to touch you?”
The thought was an anathema. “I very much want you to touch me,” I promised her. “But I also very much needed this bath.” I rolled the ball between my hands, relieved I didn’t have to touch her with filthy hands.
She made a noise of agreement. “I can help.”
I could almost feel her slipping into my lap and running slick hands on me. I offered the soap ball, more than happy to make the image a reality. Instead, she stood. Water ran from her hair and body and I followed its path down her skin, stopping at the tops of her breasts. She took the soap, boosting herself up onto the lip beside me, her bottom half still in the water.
As if we’d been doing this for decades, her spine arched into my touch and her legs parted, letting me in close. Her breath caught. She was warm, now, her skin no longer the deathly pale but flushed and alive.
One slick hand smoothed soap up my throat and I tilted my head up. Either side of my ribs, her knees held me close as her strong fingers explored my neck, then my shoulders. I felt her testing the density of the muscles, working out a few kinks, loosening the tension I’d been holding, and it was the strangest sensation. As she worked her fingers through my hair, anticipation rushed up my spine, but it wasn’t only sexual.
There was none of the impatience she treated herself with, and something about that struck me as bittersweet. Circles were rubbed slowly into my scalp, and her long, contented breath felt like homecoming.
I wanted her to give herself the same grace.
My hands found her thighs under the water and I opened my eyes only to have her eyes lock onto mine. Anticipation rolled through my body as she eased her hands through my hair, gently soothing my cheeks and brow. Beneath the water, I eased my hands up the muscles of her legs, then traced the flare of her hips. She felt so solid in my hands, so invigorating.
The moment she eased away I ducked under the water, scrubbing off the soap quickly. Her hands found my face again and I stole the soap for myself, washing what she’d missed beneath the water while she cradled my jaw and gazed down on me.
Mayhap I’d been sworn into service to an unfairly forgotten heathen goddess.
Mayhap I’d got lucky.
I turned my face into her arm, pressing a kiss to the soft underside because it was what I could reach, and, satisfied I was done with it, got rid of the soap ball. Her hair tickled my hand and I wrapped it around my fist, enjoying the firmness of it, the slide of those long strands and the way they burned under the water.
She had to lean down to meet my lips. I traced the opening of her mouth with my tongue, confident she could draw back easily with her higher ground. But she held me closer, locking her legs around me. Hunger gnawed at me and I slipped a hand between her thighs. They opened wider and her breath caught.
I breathed around the baying beast in my chest, finding her welcoming heat with the pads of my fingers. Her hands flexed on my face and she pulled away, drawing in a quick, deep breath. In the magework light, her eyes glowed like a rich man’s whiskey, and I wanted to drink deeply from that stolen delicacy.
My other hand went around to the small of her back. Again, she arched for me. With the shift of her position I was better able to ease my finger into her, feeling her clinging to me in warm welcome. I pressed a kiss to where I could see the faint drumming of her heart between her breasts, and the heel of my hand nestled up against her clit.
The skin of her breast was cool beneath my lips, her nipple already hard as I ran my nose over it, feeling the textural changes from breast to areola to tight bud. Her breath stopped for a moment, and I smiled into her flesh. So small and soft, so beautiful. I took her nipple into my mouth and she developed an ethereal stillness, as if everything inside of her and around us existed on an entirely different plane.
Gently, I worked my palm over her, while the finger inside of her moved in circles of invitation. She cradled my head to her breast, her hands revarant as I explored the texture of her, the density of her nipple. I teased it to a peak with suction and felt it change as the tightness of her flesh went from being caused by cold to arousal. I explored licks, sucks, and nibbles until finally her stillness broke and she moaned, arching into me, her hands fisting in my hair and her hips arching hungrily.
I turned to the other nipple and she whimpered, her back arched impossibly, her hands helplessly plucking at me.
She knew she was safe to be needy with me.
I wanted to sit her up on the stone lip and part her legs. I wanted to feel the warmth of her cunt and surround myself in the smell of her. I wanted to feel the smoothness of that sensitive skin and the engorged, sensitive nub. I wanted to feel the strength of her thighs clamping around my skull as if she couldn’t live if I lifted my mouth from her.
But the nipple I pressed to the roof of my mouth was so firm, and her fingers buried so deeply in my hair. I slipped another finger into her hungry cunt and she ground herself against me. The ripples that raced through the muscles of her core stole my breath.
Anticipation coiled hotly through my veins. She crushed me to her breast and I increased the pressure, and the suction, feeling her come undone muscle by quivering muscle. My heart raced in time with her quick, indrawn breaths. And when I heard those breaths stop, when she bowed, every muscle flexed in ecstasy, I held her there, safe, then caught her as all that tension rushed out of her.