4 comments/ 6513 views/ 1 favorites Men of Shienar, Women of Arad Doman By: SaucyEroticProductions Copyright Notice: All characters and individual material is © Jasmine Becker 2011. All rights Reserved. The Wheel of time Setting and books are ©1990 by Robert Jordan. The phrases "The Wheel of time" and "The Dragon Reborn" and the snakewheel symbol are trademarks of Robert Jordan. All rights reserved. Books published by Tor Books, a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates LLC. This is fan fiction only. This work may not be reproduced for commercial, marketing republishing or copying purposes. The work is sexual in nature and may not be to everyone's individual taste. Please do not continue reading unless 18 years or older. Men of Shienar, Women of Arad Doman Metic yawned wide enough to put an entire fist in his mouth. It was a truly early morning. The halls of the keep of Fal Moran, the capital of Shienar, were quiet. There was the occasional servant tending to the halls, doing this and that -- sweeping, dusting, cleaning -- but most moved with the same tiredness he felt. He was beginning to grow old. A few years ago, he wouldn't have noticed not sleeping for a few days. Now, it ate at his bones and made his eyelids heavy. He was approaching his twenty-fifth name day -- what most southlanders would call thirty-five years old -- and sometimes he felt the bone-weariness that older men complained about. The window shutters were still tightly shut, preventing chilly midwinter air from the outside to penetrate inside the fortress. Not only the few visiting southlanders would flee to their rooms then. Winter in the Borderlands -- the northernmost part of the world before the great Corrupted blight -- was beyond harsh. At times, tree could explode during the winter due to sap freezing and anyone who ventured outside without adequate supplies and warmth could find himself losing a finger, toe, hand, foot or possibly more. Then there were those who simply froze to death. Still, the keep of Fal Dara was comparatively warm. Massive furnaces in the cellar kept the heat up during the winter and provided warmth to the great bath halls -- of which there were two. He was headed to the least used of these at this moment. Such great baths were a luxury. They were a marvel of engineering he had never truly understood. Visitors had told him that in the rest of the world, people bathed in wooden or Copper tubs and knew nothing else. That, or a stream, river or the ocean. Only the borderlands had these great bath-halls. One did not need to understand something in order to enjoy it however. Carrying a thick wrapping towel for drying and otherwise clad in iron-studded leather armour, he walked downstairs quickly. Apart from the armour -- which was like paper compared to the plate-and-mail he usually bore -- he also had a sword strapped to the belt. No one went unarmed in the Borderlands. The dangers of monstrous Trollocs, Myrdraal and other shadow-spawned servants of the Dark One were far too great. Even women -- well, most of the ones he knew, anyway -- bore knives, daggers or even swords. Even those who didn't knew rudimentary fighting with hands or anything that was close for grasping as a weapon. When he was young, he had marvelled at the stupidity of southlanders who allowed their women to go untrained this way. More so, how could the women not want to be prepared? That was before he had fully understood the lack of danger to the southlands thanks to the vigil of the northern lands -- such as Shienar. He opened the thick, wooden door that lead to the bathing chamber. It was a large, rectangular chamber set with plain, white ceramic tiles. The room was filled with steam, making it hard to see, but it was blessedly warm. He disrobed quickly to avoid wrinkling the leather and stored his garments and belongings in one of the many wooden chests placed along the walls. Humming Last stand at Airen's valley, he walked to the edge of the quadratic pool and tested the water with one toe. He saw a pile of clothes laying next to the basin of water and frowned. Who'd be stupid enough to leave clothes out like that? He saw a shape, unclear by the mist but thought not more of it. The baths were open to all, commoners and noble both. In a Shienaran bath, you were as likely as not to find yourself washing at the same time as the Lord's wife as a scullery maid or a groom. The water was pleasantly hot. He stepped down, relaxing and sighing as he allowed the blessedly warm water to envelop him. At first, he dove, submerging in the pool entirely. Metic stretched, settling against one of the edges of the pool. He noted the figure he had seen before close by. It was a woman. He could see her more clearly now -- a bronzed hue and a slightly slimmed, oval face with long, black hair. The visitor was clearly not Shienaran. Had he guessed, he would have ventured that she was from Arad Doman, one of the exotic countries along the Aryth Ocean. Courageous. Most strangers and visitors didn't have the courage to even get close to a bathroom once they learned that Shienarans did not share their odd aversion and shame regarding nudity. It was good to meet those who took customs as they were meant to, adopting those necessary where they visited. Good morning, lady. A pleasant day, isn't it?" His voice was gruff and somewhat deep -- that of a soldier used to bellowing orders to conscripts and trainees, but he could make it pleasant. Well, less grim anyhow. That was when he noticed that she had noted his arrival. Her eyes were as round as teacups and her arms trembled. She seemed to be pushing against the basin's back wall. "Milady? Something wrong?" He inquired with concern. Surely this couldn't be her reaction to finding another visitor to the baths, not when she knew exactly what customs were in place in Shienar. He was wrong however. "Don't look! Burn you, have you no shame?! Don't you bloody dare look, man!" She half-screeched, half-yelled, her face scarlet with mortification. He looked away quickly, obeying, but couldn't stop the amused smile that spread across his lips. How ironic. Domani women were practically infamous for wearing garments that molded itself to the body like a second skin but they were as scandalized as any Tairen maiden when even the notion of being completely exposed in front of a strange man. "Milady, you should know we have different...customs here in Shienar.." She didn't answer. "Pardon me for saying so, but if you didn't want to be disturbed, you should have bathed in your room. In a private tub. I'm sure the servants would have brought it, had you asked." "Be quiet! Quiet, curse you!" She huffed. From the corner of his eye, he could see her scramble out of the tub, climbing without the help of the staircase a small distance away. There were muffled mumbles as she obviously dressed, pulling on her shift. "Alright." Came her now pleasantly lyrical voice after a moment. "You can look now. If you want" He slowly raised his gaze to see her standing wrapped in a massive, fluffy towel. She had covered chest, stomach and down to her knees with the thing as well as pulling it up to her shoulders. It gave her the appearance of a white, black-haired larvae. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch and bit down to keep from laughing Her face grew hotter and her eyes flashed. "Laughing at me?! Are you laughing at me, man?" She demanded hotly. He sobered up immediately. "Not at all." He lied, hoping to make her more at ease. Metic felt ashamed. It was not his way to make women uncomfortable. Besides, there was a saying in Shienar, and in some of the other borderlands too, though it varied with where you went. A woman's rights are what she bloody says they are. If she wanted to use the baths alone, he should let her. "Let me tell you something, Shienaran! " She stepped toward him, both hands gripping the towel tightly and taking small steps to reach the side of the basin. "Your customs are indecent! At least in Arad Doman we know how to separate the personal from the public." He got the impression that she wanted to fold her arms and glare down at him. He merely looked up at her, politely listening. "Moreso, Shienaran" She said, gracefully stepping forward with swift, practised steps "we do so with graaaaceeeeiiii-!" The young woman had taken the next step too quickly. She slipped on the bathroom tiles and fell forward like a drunken team of mules, arms flailing like a windmill in need of repair. He ducked without thought, instincts ingrained by years and years of combat practice. The woman struck the water surface with a massive 'Splash', landing only several feet in front of him. She twisted and turned underwater, breaking the surface and pressing into his body by mistake. She goggled, water streaming from hair and face. She was very pretty, he noticed with her this close. Her lips were small but not too small -- he had never liked too plump lips. Her eyes were a deep green, nicely setting off her dark hair now pressed to her head by the wetness. The rest of her body was equally impressive. He hadn't really concerned himself with watching before, but it was hard to ignore a body pressed against your own. Her breasts were full and heavy, settled against his chest with her nipples pressing below his own pectorals. Her entire body was curvaceous, though not even approaching too full-fleshed -- she was simply a pleasant armful without the skeletal or too-slim look that some women had. He thought her face was going to catch fire, the way it burned with red-visaged shame. Her towel floated in the water, forgotten a few feet away. Suddenly he realized she could probably feel his cock brushing against her inner thigh. He quickly drew away. There were some things Shienarans were fine with, and some things that went too far. Remembering her earlier instruction, he hurried to look away as well, quickly putting his gaze on the far wall. "I don't think there's more need for that. You've probably seen it all now. " Her voice was frustrated. She didn't tell him to look however. There were more splashes as she -- he assumed -- retrieved her towel. After a few moments he looked over to her, clad in the wet thing now indeed hugging her body like a second -- though thick -- skin. She climbed the stairs out of the pool this time, a scowl on her face. "You can't go back to your chambers like that. You'll freeze, all soaked and barely any clothes to wear." "What do you suggest I do, Shienaran?" "My name is Metic." He introduced himself belatedly, giving a short bow of his head from the pool and climbing out of the water to retrieve his things stashed in the chest. When she realized she was about to leave the pool, her eyes widened and she looked away quickly, fingers fidgeting with her towel. The young woman mumbled something inaudible. He quickly crossed the room, opening the chest and retrieved his own towel. He tossed her the thick, almost garment-like cloth and smiled. "Use this." Her gaze softened and he didn't think the blush that rose to her cheeks was rage. He turned politely. "Done, you can look. Thank you." She said. He had taken the opportunity to get dressed, wet as he was. It was not proper to leave a woman shamed, then let her go back to her quarters alone. If she allowed, he would accompany her. Well, he'd accompany her as far as the woman's quarters anyhow. Men were not allowed in the Woman's quarters that easily. She didn't talk much on their journey back through the keep, carrying her dress and soaked towel on her arm. Some of the servants gave them curious looks -- one middle-aged woman gave him a smile and a wink! - but the keep was still mostly empty of people. Indeed, they reached the large corridor leading to the women's quarters without encountering others and he stopped. She walked on a few more paces before turning. "What's the matter" she asked, cocking one eyebrow. He nodded to the large door perhaps twenty paces ahead. "The women's quarters. Men aren't allowed in there, you know." She must have arrived last night and be completely ignorant of their customs. Women! "Oh." She frowned at that, looking at the massive doors. "Well..that's odd." She turned, eyeing him from head to toe. Women seemed to be able to weigh, measure and determine everything from his preference in food to what he liked between the sheets with one single, sharp glance. He had fought trollocs for most of his life, killed a mydraal and even taken on a Draghkar during one battle in Tarwin's Gap, but the woman's appraising look made him flinch. He couldn't tell what she decided about him, but the Domani leaned forward, giving him a surprisingly warm kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of his wrist. Her fingers barely reached around the thick part of his arm. "Thank you for your help. And....your understanding." Her look grew sour. "Not exactly the best example of Domani grace, was it?" She sniffed. He fought hard to keep his features smooth and neutral. "No, i suppose not. Still, it can happen to anyone. No harm done." He smiled and added. "I promise i won't tell anyone." The smile -- the first smile he had seen on her -- she gave in return made her entire face even more attractive. He noticed with a sharp gaze that one of her molars had a small flaw near the tip. Odd, that she had become a merchant. Domani valued physical beauty, using it to their advantage in all trading. In Arad Doman, nearly all merchants were women and they always did extremely well. "Thank you" She said again, squeezing his wrist. "Would you like to come for some tea? I've brought a nice box of Tremalking black along. Lest you're used to...stronger things. I suppose i have that too. Somewhere." A mischievous smile played on her lips. "Women's quarters." He reminded her. "It's not allowed. I'd need to ask permission." "I give you permission, soldier." She said stately, spoiled only slightly by the smile still gracing her lips. "You're not Shienaran. It wouldn't be proper. Perhaps another time." With a deep bow, he turned and left. A small voice called him nine kinds of crazy and a stone-blinded fool. He could have followed her to her chambers. This early, most women would still be asleep -- women always slept far longer then men did, after all. Still, it hadn't been the smoothest of first meetings and he didn't want to make her feel as though she had to invite him. The same middle-aged servant who had grinned at him earlier had apparently overheard most of the conversation while cleaning parts of a carpet. When he walked by, she stared at him as though he was insane. He cocked an eyebrow at her and she pursed her lips, shaking her head emphatically. The day went by without much trouble otherwise. He had duties to perform. For one shift -- four hours this day -- he guarded the western gate. All the visitors who came into the city were checked, it was made sure that all of their cowls, cloaks and hoods were pulled down to expose their faces. This was law in the borderlands. No one was allowed to hide their face -- A myrdraal couldn't hide with his face exposed, it's eyeless egg of a head making it easily viewable in such conditions. He helped visitors with directions to decent Accommodations, nodded politely at their thanks. Later on, his service was in the keep where he stood guard in the corridor for a short while. Not guarding anything important to be sure, but still vigilantly watching the surroundings. Part of a lesson when growing up here in the north was that nowhere was safe. There were places that were more dangerous -- the blight for instance -- and places that were less so -- like Fal Moran. Darkfriends, however, could strike anywhere. It was his job -- his and the job of the some 5 million inhabitants of the borderlands. Of them, perhaps only 500 000 were officially soldiers, but even farmers knew how to work a basic weapon. In short -- coupled with two hours of intense sparring and training that left him sweaty -- it was an uneventful day. Evening quickly approached and found him in his comparatively small chambers. Perhaps twenty square metres large, it held a bed, space for clothes and armour, a small fireplace and a rug of excellent Tairen maze design. He had settled down by the fire with a mug of spiced wine -- sitting in his favourite chair and preparing to open a leather-bound copy of Observations and Theories on the Shadow. Some would have thought it much too ostentatious, too complicated for a simple soldier, but he preferred the heavier reads. A peddler had brought this on his request specifically all from the White Tower, where the other copy was. He had begun enjoying the first chapter when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was one of the raw recruits -- there were always many younglings who wanted to spend time with the comparatively older soldiers, hoping to learn from them -- he sighed and stood. When he opened the door however, it was the Domani woman. He realized that he had never learned her name. Beneath her arm she held one small black wooden box and in the other, two cups made from delicate sea folk porcelain. "Milady?" He asked in confusion. Had she come all the way to serve him tea? "I figured i couldn't let you go like that, without proper thanks." She smiled, stepping in the room when he moved aside. Looking around, she pursed her lips. "It's very small, isn't it?" Like most women, she was adept at quickly finding fault in things. "I like it small." "Oh..." The corner of her mouth twitched. "I see." He unfroze his rear from the floor. "Make yourself at home, Milady." He gestured to the chair next to his own and she bowed her head. "My name is Melisa, by the way." She gave a rueful, slightly self-deprecating laugh and shook her head. "I don't think you heard it the first time." That must've been the time she had mumbled in the bath halls. Well, he hadn't. "What brings you to the borderlands, Milady Melisa?" He asked, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. It wasn't polite to sit down while she bustled about, pouring water from a pitcher into the kettle hanging over the fireplace and set both of the thin-handled cups on She smiled at him. "Just Melisa, soldier. Trade." She remarked, shrugging. "What else? You have some excellent pelts and furs, as well as some of the best weapons in the world. I own five merchants caravans who gladly trade in it all." He kept himself from staring with difficulty. "You own five caravans and settle in a visitor's room in the women's quarters?" "Having a bit of coin doesn't make me different from any other scullion or cook, does it? Why should i need expensive quarters?" She gestured to the surroundings of his room, settling down into the polstered chair with a pleased sigh. He didn't expect to hear that from a woman, least of all from one hailing from Arad Doman. Still, it was true. With a bit more, true respect he bowed his head and sat down in the other chair. She breathed in deep, something that made her impressive chest swell. "I like these kind of surroundings. There's a charm in simplicity. And.." her gaze fell on him and again that appraising, though this time appreciative look crossed her eyes. "There's charm in simple men as well." He wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment, but he decided to. Her eyes had fallen on the book and she was frowning. "At least I thought you were simple. What are you man, a philosopher?" A quick smile told him it was not meant as a barb. He shrugged. "I like reading. Those kinds of books hold my attention." Men of Shienar, Women of Arad Doman She frowned. "You weren't this drawn-back this morning. What is the matter? I'm not as skittish and easily terrified as i might have..." she blushed slightly "come across this morning." This was an odd Domani for certain. Instead of wrapping him in swaddling and feeding him compliments she was honest and straightforward. Then again, he supposed she wasn't actually seducing or trading -- she was only making conversation. "Yes, i bloody suppose so. I'm not used to spending too much time with Womenfolk, you see. Besides, most borderlander women are not as you." She mouthed 'Womenfolk' with an amused expression. "Really? I couldn't tell..." She reached forward to feel the kettle. "So you are not married?" "Light, no!" He shivered. A wife would be the last thing that he wanted. Someone to mourn him when he died, nothing to leave her except his weapons, armour and some coins and possessions. No, he did not want to marry. "Those who want to should, of course". He added belatedly. "You're right though. There is no real need to marry. There are plenty of things more exciting then making a family, having children..." She grimaced, shaking her head. "This" She gestured to the room, the outside, perhaps indicating her entire profession "is more than enough." He didn't respond. They seemed to agree, though in different ways. "Ah. The tea is done." She poured two cups. He wasn't really one for tea, but it would be rude to decline. He drank the tea, not entirely faking the pleasure. It had a nice bite to it, a certain bitterness. "It's good." He commented. "The best Tremalking black. Expensive, but well worth the cost. Rum?" Her lips curved as she held out a small, clear bottle holding transparent, golden-brown liquid. He blinked but then took the bottle, gratefully splashing a generous amount into the cup. She did the same, in about equal amount too. When he raised his eyebrows, she gave him an innocent look. "What? Women can't enjoy rum?" "Not if you ask them." He replied dryly. "Well, they don't know what they're missing. Nothing warms the body like good tea and good rum." Her glance flickered over his body and she gave a suggestive smile much more suitable to the Domani that she was. "Well." She added. "Almost nothing." He gave a sombre nod, this time returning the favour of appraising her in turn. He had seen her in the bath, and she was attractive. If she thought him some prim Tairen or Cairhien simply because he showed women the respect and distance they deserved, she would quickly learn that she was wrong. Once a woman made her interest in him clear, there was little shyness left to him. She didn't seem to mind though. On the contrary, she stretched languorously on the chair, a gesture that showed off her fine curves further. "Is it true that you Domani merchants sometimes...." He fumbled for a somewhat proper phrase "entice men to trade with you?" She chortled, shaking her head. "Not lest we truly want to. Weeell..." She trailed off, frowning. "i suppose the inexperienced ones of us sometimes make men think we promise more then we mean too." Her eyes sparkled. "In that case, the woman can either abandon dignity and run" Her tone didn't indicate whether she had done this. "or pay the price. Pay the price and consider it a lesson well-learned." She sipped the strong, alcohol-infused tea and laughed softly. "So.." he frowned. "Why so open with me? Not that i am a customer, but i am a man." "A fair question." She said with seriousness. "The...games are tiring. Oh, they have their uses, most assuredly. I would not have a tenth of the wealth i have today, had i not used them. But for....private settings" She gestured to the room, to him. "They're superfluous, are they not?" Her smile grew as she noted the extent of his gaze on her. "You're a man, I'm a woman...." She let it trail off, but what she had said was explanation enough. "So why so....skittish" he used her own word to describe her "this morning?" He smiled. "Well, as to that" she countered, sniffing. "some things just aren't proper, you know. Odd customs. Odd but...i suppose, interesting." She licked her lips to catch the last taste of tea and rum, holding the now-empty cup in one hand with her little finger raised in an oddly delicate manner. "Interesting? How?" He failed to see how someone naked was all that interesting. Actually, now that he considered it, his gaze lingered longer on women who were dressed to catch men's eyes than on those who walked around naked -- if he had a choice In where to look, that was. "Contrary to our...flippant reputation however, Shienaran, you will only be the tenth man who has enjoyed my....company." Her gaze had begun to smoulder and she seemed to be musing to herself. "Oh?" He replied and his lack of surprise seemed to disappoint her, making her pout ever-so-slightly. "And what makes you think I'll agree to such a thing?" She poured more tea, adding more rum as though the conversational topic was favourite books or the weather. His sudden and possibly unexpected response did not seem to faze her at all. "Experience". Was her answer, delivered with a confident look and an obviously practiced toss of her long hair. "All that to thank me for not laughing at you for falling down the pool like a drunk oarsman?" "I didn't -!" Her reserve cracked then. She broke off the heated comeback, colour rising in her face. "That is to say..." A considering look crossed her face and she seemed thoughtful. "No. Not only that." He raised his eyebrow. "You're well-set up. You're tall." She nodded to him where he sat -- he was perhaps a little more than a head taller then her. "You're strong. You..." her smile deepened. "smell very good." He blinked at that last part. "I usually do not like foreign men, you know." She confessed. "Too strange. Yet the way you looked at me in the bath..." Melisa smiled. "Not at all like other Shienarans and not drooling like a Tairen who has never seen a woman nude. I liked it." She had much to learn, it seemed. It had only been an accident -- usually such looks were reserved for private settings, even from him. Still, this was a private setting. He looked back at her without saying anything, but appreciating the fine curves she showed off. "Nothing to say?" She wanted to know. He shook his head, reaching out to grasp her wrist not holding the cup. "Something you want to..." her gaze fell to his hand "do?" She carefully put the cup on the table. He stood up, guiding her to her feet before picking her up with both hands clasping her waist, lifting her to his level. Her gaze fell to his hands and when she looked at him, a smile graced her lips. "Strong" she mumbled again and leaned in, parting her lips. The ferocity of his kiss caught her off-guard but she quickly adjusted. He kissed her fiercely, tasting the distinct touch of strong rum on her tongue. The sensation of such a rough drink on a woman was strangely exhilarating. Her hands moved confidently through his short hair, along his arms and chest, familiarly feeling their way along the corded musculature of his torso and arms. Approving murmurs came through between kisses. He held her close, feeling the soft contours of her body through the fabric of her shirt. Her eyes widened, but instantly softened when he cupped her breasts. She pressed against his body when he held her buttocks, stroking them with circular motions with both hands. Her hands deftly unbuttoned and opened his shirt, pulling the garment open and kissing his chest and neck, her soft hair brushing his neck and chin. "Mm...very good." She murmured, slowly stepping down from his grip. "You know what you're doing." "Just because I've never been married doesn't mean I'm a novice -- with women or otherwise." He responded dryly, giving her a light smack on her rear. Melisa smiled, her fingers toying at his collarbone He grasped her wrist, pulling her towards the bed. When the back of her legs bumped against the wood, he pulled her dress from her shoulders to see pale, now-familiar skin. She looked up at him, lips parted. The domani's breathing was laboured and her hands traced the biceps of his upper arms. He pulled her dress down with a firm movement, exposing her shift, and cupped her breasts in his hands. "Ah..." Her eyes widened at the sudden movement and she leaned up on tiptoes, kissing him deeply while he fidgeted with the shift. Her hands came to rest on the lining of his breeches as she pulled them off, tearing the garment down with a certain degree of roughness. He wasn't surprised. Most Shienaran women were much more forward when in private. "Come here." He pushed her closer, then leaned her back over the small bed, leaning atop of her while exposing her upper body completely. "Mmm..what do you mean to do to me, soldier." She whispered, not exactly phrased as a question. Her light-blue eyes sparkled with badly-restrained excitement and she raised her arms above her head, lifting her full breasts further. "Take you, woman." He replied coarsely, cupping her chin in one large hand, stroking it with two fingers. "Take you and give you something to remember from Shienar." "Oh yes...i could definitely use that." She spread her legs. "You think negotiating deals is the best we can do? The real fun begins when you get us into bed..." her hands came up, fingernails running along his spine. He responded by kissing her hard, his hands pulling at the lower part of the dress, then tearing the fabric when it refused to give way easily. "Oh! My dress!" She exclaimed but then smiled, pulling hard at his breeches to pull them off completely. "My shift too?" She asked with an innocent look to her face, a look quickly erased when he moved close again and kissed her. He pulled her shift off, leaving her mostly naked with the clothing around her ankles. Unlike some women -- even some shienaran -- she revelled in her now-nude state, eagerly spreading her legs and pushing herself against him. He returned the gesture and they kissed for long moments before he lifted one of her legs up slightly, exposing her further. She inhaled deeply. "Are you going to take me now, Shienaran?" The domani accent to her voice made the question smoky. "Ah!" She gasped. As a reply, he slammed into her hard, penetrating her to the core. She was surprisingly tight and her surprised gasp was followed by her rapid twitching, shuddering. Her fingers flexed and her eyes were closed tightly, her lips a thin and writhing line. "Light's...mercy." She breathed, her eyes slowly opening. "Take me, Soldier. Take me hard." Her legs came up, the clothing still snug around her ankles preventing her from making too much movement. He thrust into her, quickly establishing a dominant rhythm that made her shift and slide on the small bed. His movements were met with loud exclamations of pleasure, her fingernails drawing along the skin of his upper back. "mmm, that's it. Take me, light yes. Oh!" She exclaimed when he thrust suddenly harder. "Yees.." He moaned, somewhat unfamiliar with the verbal interplay. He thrust again and again, enjoying the slick, moist feel of her nether regions wrapped around his throbbing member. "Mmm. You like Domani now...aaah! Do you?" Her body writhed in pleasure beneath his, her fingers slowly digging into his skin while tracing the scars testamentary of his long time as a soldier. "Never disliked." He replied, moving his hands to hold her arms to the bed, thrusting several times hard enough to make the bed creak in it's wooden frame. The movement made her whimper. "So...forceful." She observed, her eyelids flickering. "Oh, blood and ashes! Mother's" she gasped, rocking her hips forcefully, smacking her pubic region against his impaling shaft "milk..." she groaned, fingers digging into the skin along his spine "in a cup!" Hearing the language from her shocked him for a moment, then he enjoyed it. It wasn't every day one heard a beautiful woman speak like a dock worker. He groaned. He took her like that for what seemed like an eternity, their bodies eventually slick with perspiration and fluid. Her hair was matted, fanned out across his thick goose down pillow. She practically glowed with rich colour, her skin flushed and lips parted as she tirelessly ground herself hard against him. "Such...stamina!" She whimpered, leaning up to kiss him deeply and with lips parted open to perform the action with her tongue exclusively. He was not used to that but found that he enjoyed it greatly. Metic growled in response to her compliment, which made her shiver and close her eyes. Her hands suddenly rose, clutching at the thick strands of matted hair and she bit her lower lip to keep her sound down to less then a muted scream rising from deep from within her throat. Her body shook, her limbs trembled and the tendons of her neck stood out as she continually bit back a wail, cumming hard. The sensations set him off. He growled deeply, slamming down into her with brutal force hard enough to make the bed actually creak. Ramming into her heedlessly, he held her shoulders hard enough to leave marks in her skin. "aaahhhhh.." Her climax subsided first and she settled back with a small 'thud', her mouth open as she hungrily gulped air. He settled down atop her, dominantly holding both arms around her body. "In...tense." The words coming from her were slurred and drunk. He didn't respond, only stroked her body and gave her frequent kisses on her neck, ears and lips. She tasted and smelled wonderfully, very exotic. "mmm..somehow I don't mind that I met you this morning." She murmured, settling into him and moving as close as she physically could. "Neither do I." He replied truthfully. "I'm glad. " She moved around, settling in completely between his arms and legs, then sighed happily. "Now let's sleep." Her voice was already drowsy and she was breathing evenly after only a few moments. He pressed her head against his broad chest and took a long, deep breath. It had been almost a year since he'd had a woman the last time. He had missed it more then he thought he had. The warmth and the comfort was profound and he found himself stroking the strands of her hair for a long while before he too succumbed to sleep. He awoke before the sun had risen. The room was black as pitch with the fire out. She had shifted in her sleep and one of her hands was gripping his right shoulder, her naked body laid out across his chest and lower extremities. Metic was unused to waking like this, with company. After spotting his clothes, he tried to sneak away from the bed without waking her. No doubt she would want to sleep in until after dawn..... "Mm....don't even think about it." Her voice made him start a little and he cursed himself. "I have my duties" "Oh? Is that so?" She didn't turn. "You really have never had a woman for long, have you? You have duties here first." She told him in no uncertain terms, her arms coming around to lock him in a surprisingly firm grip. "But we're not betrothed or married!" He protested. He had duties to perform! Not that this was unpleasant in the least. She nestled against him intimately and he quite liked that. A great deal, actually. "And?" She demanded. "You don't lie with me and then just disappear. Oh no. Not 'til I am done with you as well." "I have duties.." He began while she straddled his chest. "..right here." She finished for him, mounting his cock with practised ease and drawing a sharp indrawn breath upon doing so. He groaned. Domani! She wasn't satisfied until she had rode him to another violent climax that made her toss her head back, whimpering against the ceiling with both hands tugging at her thick hair.. When he grabbed it, she rode twice as hard, slumping forward weakly once the tremors left her. "You enjoyed yourself too." She pointed out while they were getting dressed. "You made me late for my duty shift!" He replied, pulling on his shirt. Her voice was muffled as she pulled her shift over her head. "Don't complain. Are you saying I wasn't worth it?" "You were." Metic agreed and pulled his breeches up. He walked up behind her to help her with the buttoning of her dress, closing the individual buttons. She looked back at him gratefully and smiled, parting her lips for a kiss. He leaned in and obliged. "I'm glad." Her voice was husky. "You were remarkable." She looked him over from head to toe, her gaze appreciative. "It's too bad you're not domani. You would have made an excellent lover in Bandar Eban." "I can't be a lover here?" "You could, I suppose. But we leave today" She informed him with a regretful sigh, running one hand across his chest. "Oh." He felt a sting of regret, somewhat irrational considering how short a time they had known one another. Or rather, known one another's bodies. "A pity." "Mhm." She agreed, the same sentiment clear in her own colourful eyes. Acting on impulse, he grasped her by her hair and shoulder, leaning down to kiss her deeply. She was surprised at first, her body stiff. Then she melted, gently pressing into him an answering the kiss with affection. It was another 20 minutes before they both left the room. The corridors were empty. "Will I see you again?" He turned to face her, now clad in both armour and equipped with his customary sword. "Perhaps" She said with a smile. I do travel along the Borderlands from time to time. There is good trade here, after all. And I doubt you will go anywhere. What, with the blight and all. Safeguarding humanity." Some would have sounded mocking, disbelieving or ironic, but her voice was serious. Well, she had perhaps been here before, or seen what they guarded against during one of her travels here. To most southlanders, shadowspawn were traveller's tales. "I will be here." He confirmed and held out a hand. She looked at it quizzically for a moment before smiling and leaning in, kissing him deeply. When he walked away to take the shift he had been assigned -- perhaps an hour late -- he had a small smile on his lips. "There you are! Where have you been, sister?" Melisa gave her sister a grimace and the five-year older woman returned it with a stern look. "We were supposed to leave at dawn, you know. These fox pelts will fetch fine prices in Bandar Eban, but not in the middle of summer. "I was....otherwise occupied." She answered carefully, brushing a stray leaf off her dress. Her sister was a stately woman -- far more so then herself -- and some would call her the mind behind the entire operation that was their largest merchant caravan. She was beautiful, much like herself, yet Erise would never be found taking a common soldier to bed. If she even suspected it.. "Your dress!" Erise exclaimed. "What was his name?" "Metic." She answered calmly, sitting down on the lavish Wagon. They had added proper, cushioned seating, protection against wind and wear. It was more of a carriage, really, except they freighted goods as well as their many possessions. There was no point in denying it. Her sister had always been a perceptive person and she could smell a lie. "Just Metic? Oh, Melisa. You didn't." She met her sister's eyes with calm and strength, which took some doing. "That is none of your business, Erise." "One of the servants told me you met a man in the public baths. The public baths." She felt her ears growing hot. "So what is he? Soldier? Brawler? Servant?" "I said it's none of your business, Erise! Okay? Be quiet about it, the light help you!" Men of Shienar, Women of Arad Doman Her sister snickered. "Oh, so he was a servant, was he?" "NO!" "So, a cook. Labouring in the kitchen's all day, flecked with soot..." An hour later, the older woman was still probing for information with an incessant, practised insistence. "A tavern brawler, a bouncer who throws out those who throw up too much. Is that it, Melisa? I bet that's it." She had had enough. "A Soldier, okay? He's soldier in the keep! Are you happy?!" She thought some of the drivers of the other wagons had heard that. Probably some of the wall guards back in Fal Dara too. She had screamed. Erise was taken aback for a second but then her lips split into a grin. "Oh, sister..." "Let me guess how you spent your night, Eri." She said cuttingly, sniffing. "Some overweight, rich merchant? Drinking in his room until sunrise -- or should I say mimicking drinking - while he drunk himself into a stupor, promising you a price so low he lost a fortune?" "No. Of course not." The merest flicker of her eyelids told her she'd hit the mark square on. "Of course not." She repeated sarcastically, giving another pointed sniff that should have conveyed her disgust. They were quiet for some time. "It's how we make our coin." Her sister reminded her after a while. A faint red sheen marked her cheeks and she seemed mollified. Melisa harrumphed loudly, but patted her sister on the shoulder to show her that her comments had not been taken poorly. "So...how was he?" Erise finally asked. "Exquisite." Was her answer, delivered with a coquettish glance at her sibling.