Rhiallis: Necessary Denial

      Today’s snippet, titled “Neccessary Denial”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Mark’s new (Good) Pathfinder Campaign.
      Be forewarned, there may be mature themes and naughty language below.
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      “You’re leaving?”
      Rhiallis grimaced, then looked over her shoulder to James with a sheepish smile. “I should be back before they come looking for me. It is nearly dawn.”
      “Come back to bed, Rhi. There’s time.”
      She hesitated, glancing at the warm, pinkish rays of light appearing on the distant horizon. Relenting, she dropped her shoes and gown back to the floor where they had been discarded and crawled back into his waiting arms. The steady thump-thump of his heart was the sweetest sound she had heard in unknowable ages.
      “I’m glad you stayed.”
      “Me too.” She opened her eyes, craning her head back to meet his gaze. “Really.”
      He kissed her, shifting position gracefully. Sliding between her legs with the ease of practice, James drew her once more into his embrace. The tremendous oak bedstead creaked so loudly it made them both laugh. And when she rolled atop him, throwing her arms above her head to stretch like some lithe blonde feline, he could not take his eyes from her body.
      Afterward, as they reluctantly climbed from the rumpled bed, Rhiallis could feel his gaze upon her flesh with every movement. She relished it, unashamed, and found that the smile planted on her face would not dim.
      “The VOGS are going to be busy in the city today?”
      She nodded. Song was lapping water from a wooden bowl James had set out for her at some point during the night, making excessive noise and splashing droplets all about.
      “I heard Turisa and Sabaton located a whole nest of them, hiding out in the catacombs beneath the Korpiklaani.”
      “I think that’s where we’re going today. Honestly, I am not certain. The past fortnight, since the Liberation, has been a bit of a blur.” She leaned over to kiss him one last time. “If we’re done, and in town tonight, maybe we could meet-”
      “No, I can’t tonight.”
      Rhiallis stood, trying not to be offended by the rebuff. “Of course. Another time then.”
      James was buckling his sword belt on and did not look up. “Soon. If I can find some preserved lemons, I will make my father’s favorite chicken dinner. Well, he liked it best with wild ptarmigan or duck – whatever he shot down on the road. But I think a chicken is tasty too. And the lemons- What?”
      She just shook her head, bemused, and stepped into her shoes. “That sounds lovely. Perhaps you’ll let me cook for you. Pheasant with golden raisins and a spicy gravy.”
      “That’s a deal.”
      At the door, she hesitated. Song darted out into the street and relieve herself on a patch of scrub grass and sniff happily. Rhiallis looked back to James and felt color rising to her face once more.
      “What should we – if anything at all – tell everyone else?”
      James gave her a strange look, squeezed her hand, and then chuckled. “Whatever you want to say – or not. No one has to know, not yet, if you don’t want them to.”
      “All right.” She agreed, though she was neither pleased nor disappointed by his response. “Until next time.”
      Dawn was stealing across the skies above Drezen, pink and green and shot through with eerie motes of silver, as Rhiallis crept back to her rooms. She and Song slid into the suite silently and as Rhiallis flung herself back on the bed, she knew there would be mere minutes before movement in the rest of house indicated that everyone had wakened.
      Why am I sneaking? she asked herself, an arm flung above her head. We are both adults, unattached. Surely… others have drifted into beds not their own for fun or comfort. Sadie and Cuiliwen, at least, and I imagine Niro had his share of bed-mates amongst the local ladies.
      The answer of course, was obvious.
      But she could smell James on her clothes and feel his hands on her body, the sweet ache of passionate exertions along every fiber of her being. So as she rose from the bed to prepare for the day, Rhiallis bathed and dressed, plaited her hair, donned her armor, prayed, and broke her fast. She played tug with Song, laughed at Aimsley’s recounting of a dream she’d had, watched Sadie bounce down the steps as if she lacked any bones at all, and waited for her friends to gather outside.
      She did all of these things and some how, she managed to avoid the one thought that could wipe the smile from her lips and the warm memories of last night from her mind.
      Not once, in all those hours, did she think the name Viggo.

– – – – – – – – – – –
Signed, Josie
Note: Image is “King Jagiello Statue Central” by (Mulligand) from SXC.hu; edited by me

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