Post by EymberFyire on Feb 5, 2010 20:11:43 GMT 10
Title: Recovery
Rating: R
Length: 390
Competitor: Alanna
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: This is part 3 of a 3 story arc I'm writing to help myself process the death of a friend. The first, entitled Grief, and the second, entitled Mourning are listed in the Smackdown arena as well.
Alanna still had Kel’s hand as she led her back to her quarters, her thumb lightly rubbing over Kel’s wrist. She brought Kel inside the door, then turned as if to ask something. She had no chance to speak, because Kel pushed her against the inside of the door and kissed her savagely.
They drew back, both gasping for air, considering one another warily. Kel had enough time to wonder if she had done something terribly foolish, then Alanna was extinguishing the lanterns in Kel’s quarters with one flick of her gift. She shoved Kel backwards onto her bed and lay on top of her, their breasts and bellies pressed together, hands yanking tunics off and grazing the skin underneath.
It was all contradictions and haze after that, the mead making them both flushed and clumsy. Impressions lingered but no whole – memories that would need to be pieced together in the morning. A calloused hand slid up Kel’s side as she arched and moaned. Her hands clenching the pillows behind her head. The way Alanna moved when Kel kissed down her abdomen. Hardened muscles tensing underneath her as she made the older woman cry out.
The contact made her feel real again and whole. There was nothing Kel could find that compared to tasting herself on a lover’s tongue, warm in the bubble of heat their bodies made while moving together. The way that the night air chilled drops of sweat on bare flesh drove her back from the shadows she had been facing. Nails gouging lines down her back told her she was alive, and the woman writhing underneath her and whispering her name reminded her that it was worth it to be.
The next morning Kel and Alanna clasp forearms, and Alanna reaches up to pull Kel’s forehead down to hers. They stand like that for a moment and then Alanna leaves, bound for Fort Mastiff with Lord Wyldon. She smiles at Kel as she rides past her and looks as if she wants to speak, but there is nothing for either to say. Instead she waves and rides through the gates, somehow managing to chat amiably with Lord Wyldon. Kel watches her go for a long moment, and then turns back to the villagers who have arrived for more weapons training.
“So” she murmurs, “shall we begin?”
Rating: R
Length: 390
Competitor: Alanna
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: This is part 3 of a 3 story arc I'm writing to help myself process the death of a friend. The first, entitled Grief, and the second, entitled Mourning are listed in the Smackdown arena as well.
Alanna still had Kel’s hand as she led her back to her quarters, her thumb lightly rubbing over Kel’s wrist. She brought Kel inside the door, then turned as if to ask something. She had no chance to speak, because Kel pushed her against the inside of the door and kissed her savagely.
They drew back, both gasping for air, considering one another warily. Kel had enough time to wonder if she had done something terribly foolish, then Alanna was extinguishing the lanterns in Kel’s quarters with one flick of her gift. She shoved Kel backwards onto her bed and lay on top of her, their breasts and bellies pressed together, hands yanking tunics off and grazing the skin underneath.
It was all contradictions and haze after that, the mead making them both flushed and clumsy. Impressions lingered but no whole – memories that would need to be pieced together in the morning. A calloused hand slid up Kel’s side as she arched and moaned. Her hands clenching the pillows behind her head. The way Alanna moved when Kel kissed down her abdomen. Hardened muscles tensing underneath her as she made the older woman cry out.
The contact made her feel real again and whole. There was nothing Kel could find that compared to tasting herself on a lover’s tongue, warm in the bubble of heat their bodies made while moving together. The way that the night air chilled drops of sweat on bare flesh drove her back from the shadows she had been facing. Nails gouging lines down her back told her she was alive, and the woman writhing underneath her and whispering her name reminded her that it was worth it to be.
The next morning Kel and Alanna clasp forearms, and Alanna reaches up to pull Kel’s forehead down to hers. They stand like that for a moment and then Alanna leaves, bound for Fort Mastiff with Lord Wyldon. She smiles at Kel as she rides past her and looks as if she wants to speak, but there is nothing for either to say. Instead she waves and rides through the gates, somehow managing to chat amiably with Lord Wyldon. Kel watches her go for a long moment, and then turns back to the villagers who have arrived for more weapons training.
“So” she murmurs, “shall we begin?”
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!