Hellebore by Chris Cook

Summary: A headstrong sorceress and a young Amazon join forces to locate and destroy an ancient source of demonic power.

"It's where all this began," Willow said, her voice quiet and emotionless. Once she had calmed herself, with Tara's soothing help, Willow had had one of the guards fetch the master-at-arms. She had quickly explained how he should have the ritual sand and rune-stones disposed of, and advised that, with the Baron's approval, the books she had separated from the library should be sealed and locked in a safe place, and on no account read, until the Vizjerei could send a mission to investigate the betrayal of their comrade. She had maintained her calm well, but Tara could sense the tension in her, and when Willow held out her hand she gladly took it, and kept hold of it all the way back to the Amazon quarters. They had acknowledged the greetings of the various merchants who had already begun dinner, and Tara had collected enough food for both of them while Willow sought the solitude of Tara's bedroom. Now they sat on the bed, side-by side, Willow toying with her food and staring blankly at the opposite wall, Tara patiently waiting as she gathered her nerves.

"The Order has... had an arrangement with a hospice in Entsteig," Willow continued, "a big place thirty miles outside Gotunberg-Sallna. The Chancellor of the cities had it built after the Reckoning, to deal with all the refugees from Khanduras, a-and he brought alchemists and physicians and healers from everywhere he could. They said it was the biggest center of healing in all the Western Kingdoms. Fire sorcery is part healing, you know, replenishing the body's energy... we all learn a little of it, to keep from exhausting ourselves when we cast magic, but some fire sorceresses have the talent to use it to heal physical injuries. The Chancellor agreed to have the Zann Esu keep a presence in the hospice, to learn and teach healing, and also just to have some sorceresses around. Over the years the hospice's library grew until it was enormous – all the visiting doctors and healers would bring their own books, and they'd have scribes make new copies for the hospice... most of them were at least partly magical, and mages, even ones who didn't practice healing magic, would visit to study the books there. That's why they sent me and the others, five of us, even though Saria was the only one who used fire.

"It happened one night after five months studying there, with visiting mages and the sorceress elders who were assigned to the hospice permanently. Ember and the elders had gone to the cities for a council with the Chancellor, and most of the student physicians were at a conference... it was pretty empty. I always used to stay up late in the library, reading all sorts of things. During the day we were supervised, but at night I could read whatever I wanted, almost. I was always sleeping in because of it, I'd get back to our quarters at midnight and lie awake thinking about what I'd been reading... This night, we'd been talking amongst ourselves, the other girls and I, and then they'd gone to sleep. I couldn't get to sleep, so I went down to the library alone to read for a while.

"I got there and the door was locked – I didn't know why, unless the caretakers had closed it up, with so many of the students away for the night, but they usually left it open. I knocked, and looked for a caretaker, but I couldn't find anyone, so I waited for a little while, then I got up to leave. I was just walking out into the cloister, and... everything turned red for a second, like coals at the bottom of a fire, and then I blacked out..."

Willow came slowly and painfully back to awareness, conscious first of something sharp digging into her leg, then the cold of night air on her back. She opened her eyes and winced as for a second the dim light of torches and stars pierced her eyes like the sun. She felt a throbbing pain in her forehead, and when she touched the pain her skin felt sticky, and her fingers came back with blood on them. She struggled up to a sitting position, rubbing the painful bruise where her leg had come to rest on top of a jagged stone, and dabbed at the cut on her head, relieved to find that it was small, and had already stopped bleeding. Only then, dazed as she was, did she take stock of her surroundings.

The cloister had been shattered as if by an earthquake. Many of the stone arches had collapsed, fracturing the flagstones beneath them with huge chunks of masonry. The walls beyond were cracked, the stained-glass windows in them broken into tiny shards that littered the ground beneath their empty frames. Where Willow last remembered being, just beneath the northern archway, a heap of stone had fallen, and either she had run without remembering it, or some force had thrown her clear of it. She stared past it, seeing the huge wooden doors of the library hanging off their hinges. By the light of the few torches still burning in their brackets, and a few others that had fallen to the ground and not yet extinguished themselves, she could see just a little of the library itself, enough to see that the orderly rows of books had been tossed about by the same force that had shattered the cloister.

Leaning on a wall for support, glancing nervously around herself at the fractured stones and cracked roof beams, Willow made her way around the edge of the cloister to the library doorway. She slipped between the damaged doors, and stood dumbly in the doorway, gazing at the devastation that had been wrought inside. The entire roof of the library, with all its massive, immovable beams, had been torn away to reveal the stars – not collapsed, she realized, but flung outwards, for the debris scattered across the floor was only from the shelves and their contents. She took a few shaky steps forward, to where the glass dome had used to be, but there was no trace of it. She stared at the jagged tops of the walls, vaguely noticing the broken ends of wooden beams, twisted and torn upwards – it was as if a massive explosion had erupted from within the library itself, but she couldn't understand how a force great enough to blow away the entire roof could leave even a shred of paper within intact, let alone the scattered remains of a thousand books that covered the ground.

Willow somehow felt the sound before she heard it: a strange, purring growl from the darkened remains of the library's east wing, which had been the largest of the three. Images of wild animals flashed through her mind as she slowly turned, trembling and fighting the urge to run and hide. Her jaw dropped as the unlit torches, hanging from their brackets or cast to the floor, burst into life, flames leaping up from the blackened wood, starting on either side of her and continuing, two by two, down the length of the wing. When enough torches had sprung to life, when the creature there was finally revealed, Willow screamed, and her legs collapsed from underneath her. She wanted to flee, to close her eyes, to do anything, but her body wouldn't answer.

It was huge, fifteen feet tall, roughly female in form. Its skin was deathly pale and porcelain-smooth, decorated with runes cut into its flesh, the blood within glowing red and seeping out of the wounds as it moved. It had hooves instead of feet, but no hair around them like a horse or a goat, simply skin that bulged out around its ankles and split to reveal the masses of bone, each hoof covered in dozens of tiny metal spikes, driven into the bone. Its legs were slender, almost too thin to bear its body, yet it seemed to have all the strength it needed as it drew itself up to its full height. As Willow's eyes traveled up its body she saw bronze rings driven through the flesh of its thighs, each one adorned with a glistening wet tag – human tongues, she realized, feeling her stomach lurch. Then her eyes moved again, and saw that the pale, rotting thing covering its crotch was the skin of a human face, eyes and mouth stitched shut, supported by the remaining strands of its scalp, which were stretched over metal hooks protruding from the creature's prominent hips.

Willow felt the bile rise in her throat, but she fought against it, terrified of what she saw, yet even more afraid to look away, even for an instant. The torches around it burned brighter, lighting its torso so she could see, at the center of its impossibly thin stomach, a glistening wet horn protruding from its navel. Two more, thin and vicious, jutted out from bloody wounds in the center of each of its heavy breasts, which were decorated with rings bearing chains and scraps of flesh. An open wound ran from its cleavage, up the length of its neck, splitting the lower of its lips. From the bridge of its nose ran a series of horns, growing in length and width as they reached up its forehead and over its scalp. Its hair was jet black, long enough to reach its waist, but it floated as if the creature was underwater, streaming behind it when it moved. Then Willow saw its eyes, and forgot everything else – they were blood-red, as if the sockets were filled with the fumes of hell's fires, and tiny tendrils of crimson vapor crept from them, teasing around its brows – pierced with metal nails and rings – before dissipating in the night air. The eyes carried such malice, such hatred for purity and innocence, that Willow thought she had stared into hell itself.

It held Willow's gaze for a long time – how long, she didn't even know, just that every passing second felt like her soul was being damned a thousand times – then it raised a hand and pointed a long, thin finger at her. It was only then, when its hand rose between Willow's gaze and its eyes, that the spell was broken. Willow noticed a limp shape clutched in its other claw – the body of a robed man, too torn and bloodied to be identified further. Her eyes kept sliding back to the talon it pointed at her, as she waited for the thing to make its move.

All Willow could do was shake her head. No force in the world could have made her move an inch towards the terrible sight in front of her. The monster reared back, dropping its hand, then in a flash of movement dashed the corpse in its other hand against the wall, smashing its head to a pulp against the stone. It leaned forward and let out a bellow of rage, its split lower lip parting, either side of its jaw stretching out so that its maw gaped open wide enough to swallow a man whole. Willow had a glimpse of rows of serrated teeth, then the mouth snapped shut, with a ragged spurt of blood from the wound down its neck as it closed. It lifted a leg and slammed down its hoof, cracking the stone beneath it. With the sound of a thunderstorm it crashed towards Willow.

Willow's primal survival instinct overruled the terror gripping her mind, and she leapt to her feet, the shimmering mist of a chill armor forming around her even as the creature reached out a wickedly-clawed hand to grasp her. It bellowed in rage as its fingers came into contact with the tightly-controlled mist, drawing back its hand. It spread its arms wide, and the thin horns protruding from its breasts and stomach stirred, then leapt out at Willow, supported by thin, bloody steel chains that whipped out of the creature's body. The horns each split into three parts, like tiny claws, then they slammed themselves against Willow's armor, sending her flying backwards. The spell absorbed most of the shock of her landing, but the effort shattered its energies, and Willow staggered to her feet, defenseless, as the monster bore down on her, its clawed chains writhing in the air in front of it, reaching out towards her.

"Come now, little one," it sighed, "not hurt... help, yes, much power, much pleasure... play with flesh, yes?"

From some inner place of calm, Willow drew the conclusion that she had a single chance to save herself: one casting, which would either drive the creature away from her, or else fail and leave her to its mercy. She couldn't cast another armor, not so quickly, and in any case it wouldn't last longer than the first. She could create shards of ice, to try to wound it, but she doubted whether she could hurt it enough to keep it away from her. Once it reached her, and hurt her badly, she wouldn't be able to concentrate properly, and it could do as it pleased.

Desperation drove away the warnings that had been drummed into Willow by her Zann Esu tutors. She raised her hand, as if to ward off the creature's blows, and spoke words she had never used before, but had studied their pronunciation until she knew them by heart. She felt something inside her tug at her body, almost dragging her a step forward, but the monster was drawing up in shock, its burning eyes darting around in confusion. Willow steeled herself and continued the incantation, feeling the power flow out of her, forcing herself to stare at the hellish thing's eyes as she spoke the ancient rite of banishment.

The creature's chains retracted back into its body, leaving trails of blood beneath the bone claws in its flesh, which flexed like the beaks of hungry birds. It raised its arms, pushing on either side of itself as if encased in an invisible prison, one that was slowly shrinking around it. For a moment, a brief, triumphant moment, Willow saw something like fear in its inhuman eyes. But then it met her stare, and she recoiled as she felt something flow back along the bridge of power between them.

The monster's power was like an oil slick, viscous and slimy, crawling across her skin and making her feel like she would never be clean again. She staggered back from the shock of it, then redoubled her efforts, forcing her own energy back towards its target. Pitting her will against the monster's unfathomable mind, she hammered against its power, strengthening the bonds holding it, marshalling all her strength for one last strike against the unearthly energy keeping its body intact on the mortal plane. The creature actually fell back a step, then roared again through its gaping jaws. Willow could feel its power near her, just barely held at bay by the spell she was weaving around it, could feel the lances of energy it tried to send through the conduit between them, which if they landed would wrack her body with pain, collapsing the spell in a second. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the sweat trickling into her eyes, and fought for her life.

"I-I was losing," Willow admitted. "I put everything I had into banishing it, but it wasn't enough. It kept pushing back, a-and I could feel the walls around it weakening, and the power from it getting closer to me. It was getting stronger, it was... like it was feeding off the energy, because I wasn't strong enough to shut it out."

Tara silently reached out and took Willow's hand, holding it gently and stroking the back of her hand with her thumb. Willow took a deep breath, which shuddered in her throat, and blinked away the tears that had started to form in her eyes.

"I was sure I was going to die," she went on. "A-and I wasn't frightened, I was ashamed... I hadn't kept my magic pure, the way the Zann Esu taught me. I'd tried to be a hero, and because of that it was going to take all my power... if I'd just stuck to my elementals, it could only have killed me, it wouldn't have been able to reach inside me. B-but now it could, a-and it was my fault... I was afraid for all the people it would hurt, because of the power I gave it.

"Then something hit it, and I got tossed away. I hit my head, and everything was spinning for a moment, and it hurt like hell. The pain snapped me back to thinking, and I looked up and saw the thing being bombarded by ice bolts, fireballs, lightning, the whole works. While I'd been unconscious in the cloister, everyone in the hospice who hadn't been killed by collapsing ceilings and walls had got out, and gone into the city to get help. Ember knew I was still alive, she could sense it, a-and she sensed the creature as well. She and the other elders had to blast their way through the ruins to get to the library, and they got there just in time to save me. I think... another second, and the thing would've had me.

"I just scrambled further away from it, and watched it try to fight back. It really didn't have a chance... Ember and the others were so powerful, a-and it had only just been summoned, and it hadn't quite broken the banishment I put around it before they started hitting it. The flagstones at its feet were actually melting from the heat of the fire Ember was pouring into it, and the air around it was almost crystallizing from Cyan and Prospera freezing it. A-and Symphony, she had chains made of lightning wrapped around it, spinning so fast, and they were tearing it up like barbed wire. It was bleeding so much..."

She glanced at Tara, and her face softened from the stony calm she had taken on.

"It doesn't matter," she said, "trust me, you don't want to know. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen, that about covers it. A-and then there was this deafening crack, and I felt what was left of the banishment spell lurch... it actually pulled be forward for a second. Then it was gone. Even the blood, it all vanished in an instant. Ember and the others had weakened it so much that the spell finally worked, and... that was it."

"That was the demon Hydris was trying to summon?" Tara asked quietly. Willow nodded.

"I think so... I mean, I'm still not sure exactly what he was doing, summoning or maybe just communicating, it's hard to tell. The rune said 'Khalsu', which is what the old Vizjerei clansmen called it. When the Horadrim wrote the Book of Foes, which we still use, they called it Shadai. It was weak when I saw it... it's such a strong demon, the mage who summoned it had to put all his power into just bringing it here, there must've been almost nothing left to make its body strong. Which is what I almost gave it," she added with a scowl.

"No, it- I mean, yes," Willow admitted, "it was the banishing spell, but it didn't matter. A few more seconds of fire and ice and chain lightning and it would've been wrecked, and forced back to hell anyway. All I did was give it a chance at becoming stronger, a-and it was just luck that it didn't get it."

Tara saw Willow's shoulders slump, and couldn't think of anything but finding a way to bring back the sparkle that had been in her eyes earlier in the day. She leant beside her, put both arms around her waist, and rested her head on Willow's shoulder, gently nuzzling the base of her neck.

"You survived," she whispered, "and however it happened, you won. That's all that matters now. You're here." She felt Willow's hair tickling her face, as Willow leant her head on top of Tara's.

"After it happened, when we were going back to the Church, for a while I wished I had stuck to my cold magic, and died." Willow put an arm around Tara, hugging her gently, and with her other hand stroked the arm around her own waist.

"I was so afraid of what I'd almost let happen," she admitted, "but Ember helped me. You know, she said almost exactly what you did? She said all that mattered was that it had turned out okay, and I had survived. She told me to learn from my mistake, not to retreat from it. I had the choice of just staying in the Church, where I'd be safe, a-and there'd always be elders to keep me from making another mistake. Ember convinced me to stand before the Council, to ask for their judgment so I could continue as a sorceress. And they sent me here. I-I'm so glad they did, now. I don't want to be anywhere but here."

Tara hugged Willow tighter and closed her eyes, feeling the woman in her arms relax. She was aware, in a distant sort of way, of the warmth that spread through her at Willow's touch, but she had no desire at the moment but to hold her, comfort her and chase away the fears that ailed her.

"Tomorrow I'll talk to the Baron," Willow said eventually, "tell him what we found in Hydris's rooms."

"Tomorrow," said Tara firmly. Willow tightened her hug for a moment, then reluctantly stood up and straightened her skirt.

"I should... you make me feel so much better, you know?" she asked rhetorically. "You're beautiful..." She trailed off, staring wistfully at Tara for a few seconds before she seemed to snap out of it and become flustered. Tara blushed, and smiled when she noticed Willow doing the same. Willow nervously played with the edge of her skirt.

"Um, it's late, I should go get some sleep..." she said hesitantly. As Tara stood up from the bed, Willow was already reaching for her staff, propped in a corner against Silverstrike.

"Stay?" Tara said, surprising herself. Willow looked back at her with an odd mixture of hope and anxiety. "I-I mean," Tara went on, "if you w-want... y-you don't have to go. I-it's been a tough day, a-and you don't need to be alone... and I'd like it... if y-you stayed... please?"

Willow's eyes glistened with moisture. She sniffed back a sob, then nodded once, quickly, swallowing her tears. Tara went to her and enveloped her in a chaste embrace, the one hand around her body still, the other softly stroking her hair. Willow buried her face in Tara's shoulder, drawing deep, sighing breaths, but she didn't cry. Tara gently led her back to the bed and sat her down without letting go. Willow finally raised her head and looked at Tara.

"I-" she began, then hesitated. But the sweet smile on her lips was all the gratitude Tara needed. She ran her fingers through Willow's hair one last time, then got back up.

"I'll just take the plates outside," Tara replied, "I'll change in one of the spare rooms... give you some privacy. I-I'll be back in a few minutes. Um, if you want something to sleep in, feel free." She gestured towards the small trunk in the corner she had filled with her spare clothes. Willow nodded, and Tara quickly gathered their plates, balanced them in one hand while she found a slip and robe, then cast a reassuring smile back at Willow as she opened the door a fraction and went out.

Willow took a deep breath, then stood up and looked in the trunk for something suitable. She was amazed at how Tara made her feel safe, and warm, and content – as if something inside her wouldn't let her be at peace, unless Tara was there. She hadn't meant to go on about the demon at such length or in such detail, and she hoped Tara would be able to put the grisly spectacle of it out of her mind, but... once she had started talking, the whole story just seemed to flow out of her. She had never spoken about it very much, to anyone – Ember had been there, seen what she had seen, and had needed to ask only a few questions to fill in the details she didn't know of that night's events. Willow hadn't wanted to talk about it then, and Ember had respected that. The Council had been informed of what happened by the various elders, Ember included. Willow remembered the hollow feeling she had experienced when she had to sit down with one of the Council's scribes, to make sure the official account of the incident included all the details she could remember. She had had to mention one or two things, but other than that she had remained silent, as the scribe read from his scroll, in an efficient, emotionless tone, the account of the event that had scarred Willow's mind. Particularly in the first weeks, but even now, she had nightmares about the library, and the demon's burning, hating eyes. She had never talked to anyone about it. Until now. It felt good.

She turned over the edges of a couple of folded bundles, looking for nightwear. A thin cotton slip seemed appropriate, but then the corner of something dark and smooth caught her eye. She uncovered the garment and held it up, letting out a slow breath as she did. It was a silk robe, a lustrous black, and so smooth it was a pleasure to hold. As Willow held it up, she saw that it was cut almost high enough to be considered a shirt – she held it against herself, and it was short of the middle of her thighs. She wondered what in the world an Amazon warrior was doing with something like this – 'Well, wearing it, probably,' she thought back at herself. She looked in the mirror and pictured Tara wearing the short robe, with the thin sash looped around her waist, and the neckline invitingly open. 'Okay, calm down,' she told herself, 'she asked you to stay because you're upset, not because she wants to play dress-up. Or dress down, even.' Willow couldn't help grinning. She put the robe back in the trunk, and laid the cotton slip out on the bed, ready to wear.

She tore her attention away from the robe and realized Tara would be back any moment. She took off her skirt and folded it neatly with practiced ease, then kicked off her boots and undid her belt, checking to make sure all its tiny pouches were securely sealed. Her tunic followed, and the bra underneath it, which she folded and put beneath her skirt, feeling somewhat shy about having items of her underwear lying around Tara's room in plain view. She was just straightening up when she caught sight of herself in the mirror again. 'Oh gods,' she thought suddenly, 'I'm nearly naked! In her room! I'm about to sleep next to her, in the same bed, what do I do? Do I just go to sleep beside her, or can I give her a kiss goodnight- Do I snore? I hope I don't snore, I don't want to wake her- No, wait, we slept next to each other in the caravan, and she didn't wake up. Okay, calm down...' She took a few deep breaths, then noticed her chest moving up and down as she did so, and had another attack of nerves. 'I mean, I know this is really an emotional-support sleeping arrangement, but it's not like we're just friends... gods, she sent me wild all afternoon, and if that guard hadn't interrupted I don't know what would've happened... Hey, stop thinking about that!' she chastised herself, glaring at her reflection. 'I wonder if she'll want to snuggle... do Amazons kiss goodnight? Please let Amazons kiss goodnight...'

Willow jumped as a knock on the door pierced the silence of her runaway thoughts.

"Willow?" came Tara's voice. Willow flung on her nightwear, and had already called out "Come in" to Tara when she realized she had tossed the slip back in the trunk, and wrapped herself in Tara's silk robe. 'Okay, that can't have been purely accidental,' she thought with the part of her brain that wasn't panicking.

Tara was wearing a long crimson robe, buttoned once at the waist, revealing a white top underneath it. Willow thought it was beautifully elegant, the way the folds of the robe swished around her legs as she moved, and she melted at the cute way Tara's toed peeked out from beneath it when she stepped forward. Tara closed the door behind her, then looked at Willow properly for the first time. Despite her anxiety, Willow was pleased by the way Tara's eyes widened, a blush crept over her cheeks, and the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I just- you know, first thing I grabbed," Willow said quickly, trying not to shiver. Half of her wanted to get under cover of the sheets as quickly as possible, the other half had noticed the way Tara's eyes had quickly run up the length of her body when she first saw Willow, and was in heaven at the thought of Tara seeing her like this. She compromised by sitting down on the edge of the bed, almost missing in her nervousness and ending up perched just barely on the edge of it, with one leg thrust out sideways to keep her balance. She saw Tara's eyes fix on her exposed thigh for a second, and her thoughts grew even more erratic.

"Um, th-there's more blankets," Tara said shyly, motioning towards the wardrobe in the corner, "I th-think it's going to be a cold night... I-I'll get some." She busied herself pulling folded blankets down off the high shelf within the wardrobe, giving Willow a few seconds to get control of herself and slip her legs beneath the sheets. When Tara came back, spreading several blankets out over the bed, Willow was sitting up against the headboard, looking calmer than she felt.

"Tara," she said, getting Tara's attention just as she had finished with the blankets. Tara sat on the edge of the bed next to her, smiling into her eyes. Willow noticed the way her hands fidgeted slightly in her lap, and was profoundly relieved that she wasn't the only one feeling nervous.

"Um, thanks for letting me stay," she said, "I really... I feel safe with you," she blurted out before she had a chance to reconsider. Tara smiled, and looked away for a moment.

"I-I'd do anything for you," she confessed. She looked back at Willow, just quickly at first, her eyes darting away again, then back, and holding her gaze longer. Willow felt a lump in her throat, and couldn't find the words to express what she felt.

"I'm so glad I met you," Willow whispered, wanting to say so much more, but not knowing how. Tara leaned over to her and kissed her, gently and perfectly. Her lips were open just a fraction, just enough to make it more than a simple kiss, but there was no need for any movement, or frenzied passion.

"M-me too," Tara said as she leant back a fraction. Willow felt the words breathed across her lips. Tara got back up and started to put out the candles around the room, while Willow wriggled down lower into the bed. Tara cast her a fond smile just before she blew out the last candle, and then the room was all shades of icy blue, from the moonlight filtering through the clouds outside.

Willow watched as Tara, a half-visible silhouette in the darkness, moved towards the window to close the shutters. She stopped half-way, though, and Willow wondered if it was her imagination, or if a glitter around Tara's eyes was her glancing again at her, and if the slight reflection on her lips was a smile. She took one more step, and Willow's eyes fixed on her as a shaft of moonlight from the window lit her, outlining the gentle folds of her robe. Seemingly oblivious to Willow's stare, Tara unbuttoned the robe and slipped it from her shoulders, letting it fall down her arms, and finally free of her hands so that it crumpled to the floor with a silken sigh. Willow gaped, glad of the shadows to conceal her reaction. The white top Tara was wearing was cut high, allowing Willow an unobstructed view of her waist and stomach, which she thought so smooth as to make the silk robe seem like coarse hessian. A pair of white briefs completed the outfit, and in the pale moonlight the edges of the fabric seemed only to accentuate the curve of her hips and bottom, which Willow, in a moment of unusual lewdness that almost made her giggle at herself, wanted to cup in her hands and squeeze. Tara reached for the levers that would pull the shutters closed, and suddenly Willow's attention wasn't on her rear at all, but the gap between her abdomen and the material of her top, which when she leant forward widened enough that Willow could see the slightest curve of the underside of her breasts, swaying gently as she moved. 'More lewd thoughts,' Willow commented silently to herself.

The shutters closed, and the room was plunged into near-total darkness. Willow was suddenly aware that she was breathing heavily, and willed herself to relax. She heard Tara's feet pad softly across the floor, then heard and felt the blankets pull back as she slipped into her side of the bed. Willow rolled onto her side and wriggled over slightly, until she felt the slight aura of warmth of Tara's body, and could feel by the way the blankets were held up that there was barely inches between them. She jumped slightly when she felt Tara's hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't hear you move your hand," she explained, earning a chuckle. "I can see just a little. Shapes, outlines... Outside it'd be enough to get by on, if the moon was behind clouds."

"Speaking of moonlight," Willow whispered, "just now, you looked so lovely... I'm sorry I can't see in the dark now." She imagined Tara's blush, and heard the hesitancy in her voice that confirmed it when she spoke again. She found it very enticing that Tara could be so shy and so bold at the same time.

"Th-thank you," Tara said. "I-I thought, maybe... i-if you weren't too, you know, upset by telling me what happened... maybe you'd appreciate a little distraction..."

"Oh, I do," Willow said, smiling and wondering if Tara could see it, "I'm... I never told anyone the whole story before. I feel better now. Um, it's not going to give you nightmares, is it?"

"Good," Willow said, "because I wouldn't want you having bad dreams because of me." She felt the distance between them close, then Tara's hair was brushing against her face, and her hand was cupping her cheek tenderly.

"I think I'll have good dreams because of you," she purred. "Do you feel better?"

"Turn over," Tara said gently. Willow complied, wondering what she had in mind, then sighed as she felt Tara shift herself closer, the length of her body warm against Willow's back. Tara's arm rested leisurely over her waist, holding her just firmly enough to be comfortable. Tara curled her legs beneath Willow's, and Willow breathed in as she felt every inch of her thighs, and her bottom and half her lower back, suddenly in direct physical contact with the most angelic woman she had ever known. She hadn't realized the robe she was wearing had ridden up as she had wriggled under the blankets, but now she was burningly aware that, from her waist down, she was just as scantily clad as Tara. She hoped Tara was as blissfully content as she was.

Tara stroked her fingers across Willow's stomach briefly, then leant a little closer to kiss the back of her neck.

"Mmm, you too," was all Willow could manage in reply. She felt the tension of the evening melt away, and let herself get lost in the warmth of Tara's embrace, and the darkness of sleep.

Willow woke slowly, for the first time since the destruction of the hospice. She opened one eye and was surprised to see the morning sun already lighting the slits in the shutters. She couldn't remember waking once during the night, and even in the troubled dreams she had grown accustomed to – imp-like demons jumping out of books at her, it had been this time – she vaguely recalled feeling detached from the jumbled images and sounds, as if she knew that it wasn't really happening. She could hazard a fair guess why – Tara was still lying against her, with one arm draped over her, holding her almost protectively.

Willow's other eye opened, and both eyebrows rose, as she noticed exactly where Tara was holding her. Some time during the night she must have shifted position, her hold had become tighter, and the hand that had been hovering about her waist had crept higher and was now cupping her right breast, through the material of her robe which felt thin as air at the moment. Willow's heart hammered in her chest, so hard that she wondered how Tara wasn't woken by it – it was right beneath her palm, after all. She wondered also how she could have woken up without instantly realizing how she was being held. Even if it was unconscious on Tara's part, Willow wanted to enjoy every second of it.

She smiled to herself, not wanting to disturb Tara's sleep – or make her move in any way, she admitted. She luxuriated for a while in the heat coming off Tara's hand, and indulged a few fantasies of the fingers lightly covering her breast closing and squeezing. She remembered how Tara's fingers had pressed into her thighs the day before, in the library, and her sleepy imagination showed her herself being molded by Tara's hands, like a sculpture in clay, with Tara leaving fingerprints embedded in her thighs, her back, her breasts, her bottom, her- Willow had to admit she wasn't quite ready to go there. No-one else had ever touched her there, and Willow knew she needed time to absorb the reality of their mutual attraction – she was almost sure enough to call it love – so that she wouldn't be a flighty bundle of nerves when the time came. 'Well, not all a bundle of nerves... nothing wrong with that in its proper place.' She grinned at herself, and then the humor in her smile was replaced by warm contentment, as she recalled the previous night, and how Tara had seemed to know what she needed. Physical contact, a feeling of safety, the freedom to be vulnerable, tenderness, and stimulation. The fleeting glimpse of Tara she had seen was a release, in a way, for she realized Tara had shown her not just herself, but a glimpse of things to come – she grinned again at the phrase – and though she was only now realizing it, the relaxed state she had achieved owed as much to Tara's teasing as it did to her softly-spoken words and gentle embrace. 'I know you want me,' Tara had been telling her, with her actions, 'and I want you too. Now you're tired and afraid, so you should wait, and I promise I'll wait with you.' Willow closed her eyes and sighed happily – she would have to thank Tara for understanding, and making sure their first time was perfect in every way. Briefly she imagined the feelings she had when she had sought release by herself – by way of experimentation, or to relieve the tension that sometimes grew in her – and her mind's eye began to substitute Tara's hand for her own, her palm cupping Willow's mound, her fingers gently circling her clit, or brushing through the folds of her sex- she shut the thought down before it got out of control. For now, she was content to feel Tara's body against hers, and look forward to the time when she would do more than imagine.

Tara stirred in her sleep, and mumbled to herself. Her hand flexed slightly, then closed again, as Tara unconsciously adjusted its position to get a better grip. Willow, still half-submerged in her own private musings, gasped in surprise and delight, and before she realized she was doing it her back was arched, pressing her breast into Tara's hand.

"Mmm," she heard Tara purr, just before her thumb inched inwards a fraction and snuck underneath her palm to stroke over Willow's nipple, which was straining against the fabric of her robe. Willow thus felt every tiny instant of Tara's touch as fully as possible, and the effort it took not to make a sound caused her to press her thighs tightly together and wriggle her hips. She felt a pleasurable shiver creep over her skin, and a distinct warmth grew between her legs – 'Gods, is there no stopping me?' she wondered – but despite keeping her mouth clamped shut, she sensed Tara's sleep fading. She held as still as she could, suddenly afraid to look as if she was enjoying Tara's touch too much – she had been asleep, Willow reasoned, maybe she'd be embarrassed.

"Mmmhey," Tara said in a voice thick with sleep, her lips tickling the nape of Willow's neck.

"I noticed," Willow said, stroking the back of Tara's hand. Tara froze solid for a second, then jerked her hand away and rolled onto her back. Willow quickly rolled over, tangling the blankets between them and ending up half on-top of Tara.

"I-I'm sorry," Tara said, her face turning red, "I-I d-didn't realize... I must've... wh-while I was asleep-"

"Tara," Willow said, getting her attention, "it's fine. It's more than fine! I promise you," she leant forward and brushed her lips lightly over Tara's, "you can touch me anywhere you want..."

Tara let out a slow breath, tickling Willow's lips, as her hands crept around her waist. Willow closed her eyes as Tara kissed her, reveling in the softness of her lips, the way she lifted her head off the pillows, pressing their mouths together, only to lie back a moment later, maintaining the most feather-light contact as her tongue teased Willow's lips. 'How does she do that?' Willow wondered to herself, letting her jaw open for Tara as she recaptured Willow's lips fully, 'how is she so shy and tentative that I want to hold her and kiss her forever, and then so bold that I can barely stop from ripping my clothes off for her?' She imagined just that, and moaned out loud into Tara's mouth, her hands busily wrenching away the tangled blankets between them.

She felt Tara's hands firm against her back – her naked back, she realized, her robe had ridden up so far that it covered only her chest and shoulders. She arched her back, feeling her stomach naked against Tara's, and her lips curled into a smile, still open a fraction to continue the ongoing kiss that she had no intention of ending prematurely. For a moment Tara's lips were still, and when Willow opened her eyes she saw Tara staring at her as if in wonder. Then she squealed in surprise and delight as Tara rose up beneath her, gathering Willow up with the strength that had surprised her yesterday and rolling her effortlessly onto her back. Willow's eyes widened as she took in her new position, lying beneath Tara, who straddled her hips on her knees as she leant down to kiss her fiercely, almost possessively.

'Ah, there's my bold Tara,' Willow thought gleefully, as Tara's kisses moved from her lips down to her neck, which she teased and tickled with her soft lips. Willow let out a sigh that became a high-pitched moan as she felt Tara's tongue press firmly against her skin, trailing all the way from her neck up to the pliant skin beneath her chin. Tara lifted herself up off Willow a fraction and stared into her eyes. Willow imagined what she must look like, wide-eyed, rapid breathing, flushed cheeks and wet lips.

"Anywhere?" Tara asked in a sultry whisper. Willow's breath caught in her throat. Was she suggesting...? She hadn't thought Tara would be so ambitious so soon, and she had to admit she was caught by surprise. But was the fact that she was surprised enough to warrant asking Tara to take it slowly, if she wanted to move things along a little faster? Willow knew the answer to that, and nodded once, quickly. Tara smiled and kissed her again, on the lips for a moment, then ducking down to one side to suck her earlobe, and run the tip of her tongue around the edge of her ear, making Willow shiver and whimper in delight. Tara pulled back again. Willow noticed with a start that she could feel Tara's breasts touching hers through their nightwear – she could only imagine what a luscious sight they would be, Tara's ample, perfect breasts hanging down as she held herself just high enough that they swayed slightly against Willow. She had to imagine, because she couldn't tear her eyes away from Tara's.

"Even..." Tara began, and trailed off, watching Willow's reaction. Willow tried to breath steadily, but it seemed she was rapidly losing control of her own body.

"Even... in front of the Baron and all his noblemen?" Tara asked. Willow's eyebrows collided in an expression of pure confusion.

"You did say 'anywhere'," Tara replied with a perfectly straight face. Willow stared at her for a second, her mind trying to regain a grip on things, then she abruptly burst out laughing. Tara joined her, alternately laughing and kissing Willow, until they had both regained some semblance of composure.

"You're a sly, cunning, vixen-y tease," Willow murmured, when they had finally calmed down, and Tara was resting on top of her, her face nestled into the side of Willow's neck.

"I can't help it," Tara said – she didn't bother moving back, so Willow felt her lips move against her skin – "you're so much fun to tease." Willow chuckled to herself. A small part of her regretted the pause in their passion, but she realized that it was for the best. She loved the feeling of abandoning her senses that she got when she and Tara kissed, but sooner or later they would reach a point where neither of them would be capable of restraining themselves, and Willow wanted that to be at a time when they both wholly wanted to go further. Apparently, she mused, Tara agreed. Lying here, relaxed, with Tara's body comfortingly resting on top of her, Willow felt closer to her than she ever had.

'I love her,' Willow thought. It wasn't a new realization, so much as confirmation, a decree that Willow now accepted, and set in stone in her mind. She loved Tara's kindness, her gentle nature, her fascination with the world and its ways, her boundless patience; she loved the way Tara understood her, without words, the way she was always exactly what Willow needed, whether it be a friendly ear, a shoulder to cry on, a joyful companion or a passionate woman with an inexhaustible hunger for Willow; she loved her spirit, which her tutors in the Zann Esu would have described as a healer's, someone who does what she can to make the people around her whole, for no reason other than that their happiness gives her a contentment that no selfish pursuit could encompass; and she loved the warrior that she knew lived in Tara, despite Tara's own doubts on the matter, the fierce heart that she kept so well in check, that only emerged in the heat of passion. Just the thought of the untamed, sexual hunger she held within her soul made Willow want nothing more than to give herself to Tara completely, to hold nothing back from her, deny her nothing.

"You're exactly as much of a warrior as I need," Willow replied. "You're kind, and sexy and-"

"I like your snoring, it's cute," Willow said, "will you give up? You're perfect because I say so."

"You don't have to say that," Tara said quietly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at Willow.

"Hey, come on," Willow said gently, "it's true. I'm not pretending you're some sort of supergirl, or something impossible... you're... if I'd ever had dreams this good, you're everything I'd have dreamed you'd be." Tara swallowed, and her eyes were suddenly glistening with tears.

"Oh Willow," she breathed, "I don't know what to say... I... no-one's ever said anything like that to me before." Willow carefully rolled Tara off of her, so that they ended up side by side, arms around each other's waists. She kissed the warm tears off Tara's cheeks, slightly worried to see her crying, but reassured by the brilliant smile on her lips.

"You already do," Tara admitted, "you always have." Now it was Willow's turn to feel her eyes filling with tears. She blinked them away and kissed Tara firmly on the lips, savoring the taste of her mouth. Tara responded, unhurried and without frenzy, but with a quiet passion that made Willow tremble. She imagined she could detect a faint taste of the fiery, lusty Tara, biding her time, waiting for her moment. When she finally let their lips part, after a momentary hesitation while Tara's mouth closed around Willow's lip and sucked it with agonizing sweetness, Willow hugged her tightly and kissed Tara's neck, then pressed her face against the warmth of Tara's skin and breathed the scent of her hair, spread across the pillow like golden silk.

"Hey, wait a minute," she said suddenly, "how come no-one ever said nice things to you?"

"Oh, no," Tara said, "I didn't mean it like that... just, no-one's ever cared for me and, and wanted me, the way you do, a-as much as you do. B-but plenty of people at home used to tell me I was kind, and gentle. And a few times, when we wore ceremonial dress, I overheard some of the, um, more forward girls making... appreciative comments, when they thought I couldn't hear them."

"Oh they did, did they?" Willow teased. "So, do I have to worry about some Amazon warrior back home who won't like me making a move on her girl?" She was joking, but a tiny part of Willow pleaded to be reassured that Tara was hers alone, that there wasn't some part of Tara she couldn't reach, and couldn't give herself to. Tara must have sensed it, because she leant back a fraction, enough to look Willow in the eye as her hand held her cheek, gently brushing her skin with her thumb.

"There's never been anyone but you," she said. "No-one else has ever touched me the way you have... a-and," her voice dropped to a whisper, "when we're ready... wh-when it's time... I-I don't want anyone but you to ever touch me the way you will."

Willow was utterly speechless. She honestly didn't know whether to be flattered, or aroused, or gratified, or what. All she could think of was 'I am in love'. She almost said it – in truth, the only thing that held her back was the irrational fear that, if she were to acknowledge this perfect dream, it would vanish and she'd wake up to find the world as it had been before Tara, before every moment, even those they spent apart, felt better because Tara existed. She recognized how ludicrous that fear was, and set her mind to dispelling it as promptly as she could. She knew she could – when she told Tara she loved her, it would be with all her heart, without even the tiniest trace of doubt or irrational anxiety. She would be perfect, for Tara. And, gods-dammit, she would be it soon.

"What about you?" Tara asked. "Any fellow sorceresses waiting for you to return?" She made no effort to hide her playful, teasing smile from Willow, who decided Tara shouldn't have a monopoly on teasing.

"Oh, I'm sure they'll get along without me," she said airily. "One less pair of hands in the big sorceress grope-fests, who'll notice?" Tara laughed out loud.

"You're the first," Willow admitted quietly, when Tara looked at her again. "I... I never felt this way until you." Tara suddenly couldn't meet her stare, her eyes darting away to glance at Willow's lips, and hair, and her own hand still stroking Willow's cheek.

"I h-hope I'm worthy of you," she said shyly. Willow covered Tara's hand with her own, and ducked a little, catching Tara's downcast eyes.

"You so are," she promised, "every minute... the way you make me feel, it isn't something you have to, to work for. It's a gift, that you give me." Tara smiled a little.

"You do," Willow assured her, "by being... you, by being Tara." Tara smiled, and her mouth opened as if she was trying to think of something to say, but couldn't.

"You say the sweetest things," she murmured eventually. Willow grinned and kissed her, just briefly. Tara sighed.

"Unfortunately," she went on, "being me means I have to get up. Amazon stuff to do..." Willow let out a heartfelt groan and let her head flop down onto the pillow.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Tara asked. "I-I could find some time, between meetings-"

"I'll be fine," Willow promised her. "You do your Amazon stuff, and I'll do my sorceress stuff, and we'll be back together at the dinner."

"As if I'd forget a date with you," Willow smiled. Tara kissed the tip of her nose, then reluctantly lifted the blankets on her side of the bed and got up. Willow's eyes followed her around the room as she picked up her long robe from the floor where she had dropped it, draped it over the back of a chair, and ran her fingers through her hair, straightening out a few tangles. In the strong morning sun peeking through the shutters, Willow took a good, long look at Tara, barely dressed in the sleepwear she had glimpsed the night before. At first, she was fascinated by Tara's legs – not too thin, not too muscled, with exactly the right kind of curves along her thighs and calves. Then Willow's eyes moved up to Tara's bottom, neatly clad in her briefs, which were skimpier than Willow had realized by moonlight. Willow's heart rate increased markedly as Tara bent over to peer at herself in the mirror, unconsciously displaying her rear to Willow in a most enticing manner. Willow imagined taking hold of her cheeks, squeezing them, lazily trailing her fingers down the cleft between them, dragging down the thin underwear... 'Look at me,' she mused to herself, 'getting all turned on just by staring at a girl's butt. I'm turning into a man.' She noticed Tara's eyes, in the mirror, had settled on her.

"Well, you know," Willow said hastily, "I've got a whole day to get through. So, I was thinking, best to make sure I get a good look while I can."

"Aren't you worried you're going to be distracted all day?" Tara asked, mock-serious.

"Oh, okay then." Willow was surprised for a second at how easily Tara dropped the subject – she had been expecting another prolonged bout of teasing – but then Tara straightened up, turned around, and did a full-body stretch and yawn, closing her eyes and reaching her arms up above her head, almost touching the ceiling, then slowly reaching back behind herself with an innocent expression, as if she were doing nothing more than waking herself up after a good sleep. Willow's mouth went dry as Tara's top was first lifted up, revealing the bottom of her generous breasts, then drawn tight across her chest so the fabric stretched against her skin, with the peaks of her nipples clearly visible beneath it. 'Okay,' Willow thought, imagining even her thoughts to be speaking in a strained squeak, 'that confirms it, I'm a breast gal.'

Tara flashed her a quick, innocent smile, then crossed to the shutters and levered them open, letting the sunlight properly enter the room. Her skin took on a wonderfully healthy glow, and her hair blazed in the light like molten gold. With her back to Willow, she stretched again, this time pushing her palms into the small of her back as she arched her body. As the stretch made the muscles in her legs and backside grow taut, she hooked a finger from each hand into the waistband of her briefs and pulled them up, stretching the fabric as tight as it would go across her bottom. 'Still a breast gal,' Willow thought, barely able to keep her hand from creeping between her legs, 'but only just.'

"I love the morning sun," Tara purred, seemingly to herself. 'Alright,' Willow thought, 'two can play that game.' She kept an eye on Tara, making sure she didn't turn around while she was wriggling underneath the blankets, then she swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood up, smoothing her short black robe down.

"Um, can I put my panties in with your washing?" she asked innocently. "It's just, I was wearing them all day yesterday, a-and no-one will notice if I'm in just my long skirt when I go back to my room." Tara glanced at Willow over her shoulder, with more than a slight spark of interest in her eyes, and nodded towards the basket on the floor, containing her clothes to be cleaned in the castle's laundry. Tara's eyes slammed wide open and her jaw dropped when she saw Willow smile in thanks and casually toss her underwear into the basket.

Willow crossed the room and slipped past Tara, bathing in the golden morning light, and very much aware of Tara's wide eyes fixed on her. She began a full-body stretch, just like Tara had done, but curtailed it when she felt the hem of the robe lift up to the tops of her thighs. 'Chicken,' she thought, but on turning around and stepping around Tara, she saw she had achieved the desired effect – Tara's expression was one of pure shock, and her chest was rising and falling quite distractingly with her sudden rapid breathing.

"Um, I-I should go bathe," Tara said after a moment, "I-I'll make sure there's some water on the fire for you, if you want to go as well, a-after I'm done."

"Thanks," Willow said brightly, inwardly glowing at Tara's flustered reaction. She was caught completely by surprise when Tara's hand caught her around the waist, pulled her back a step, and spun her around into Tara's arms. Before she had even consciously realized what was happening her mouth had opened to let Tara kiss her, and she was feeling her body go weak as Tara's lips covered hers, and her tongue danced between them. Willow's knees actually gave up, and she let herself settle into Tara's embrace, trusting Tara to keep her from falling. All her attention was on the kiss when, to her shock and absolute delight, she felt Tara's thigh nudge between her legs. Willow's hips pressed forward of their own accord, and then, just as quickly as it had happened, she was being gently lowered to the bed, and Tara was smiling sweetly at her.

"Okay," Willow squeaked, as Tara pulled on her robe and slipped out, closing the door behind her. Willow slowly became aware of a familiar, overly-moist feeling between her legs. 'Damn' she thought, grinning ear to ear, 'she got me.'

Willow closed the door of her bedroom behind her and leant on it, calming herself. The short, and intentionally cold, bath she had had in the private room in the Amazon quarters had done little to soothe the warmth building up inside her. She had to admit that the experience of walking through the castle with no underwear hadn't helped – she knew she looked perfectly normal in her long skirt and tunic, but she kept imagining the sly smiles Tara had kept giving her as they had eaten breakfast. And the feel of Tara's arms around her as they hugged goodbye for the day. And the way Tara's fingers had kept brushing over the back of her neck when she had insisted she comb Willow's hair. And, she had to admit, everything about Tara.

She quickly crossed to her room's window and closed the shutters – unlike the rooms the Amazons had been given, Willow's quarters were level with the walkway on the castle's far wall, ten meters away, and she had no desire to have an inquisitive guard looking in at her just now. She pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it aside, then undid her belt and the cord in the waist of her skirt, letting both fall to the floor. One hand went instinctively towards her sex, but stopped, her fingers resting on her mound, a hair's breadth from their destination, as Willow caught sight of herself in the mirror over the dressing table. She wondered for a moment what happened to the studious, innocent-looking sorceress she had been just... 'Gods,' she thought, 'just a few days ago. Five days. And now look at me just thinking of her.' From the mirror, an unrestrained, wanton version of herself stared back at her, eyes half-closed, mouth open, lips wet from running her tongue over them, pausing in the middle of taking in a deep breath, with her back arched and her breasts thrust proudly forward, one hand resting its fingers on the soft skin of her cleavage, her bra pulled down to reveal herself – she hadn't even realized she was doing that – the other hand reaching down, fingers amid the short red curls of hair, aimed with no uncertainty directly at her sex.

In her mind's eye, Tara was standing behind her, staring at her in the mirror, reaching around her body to touch where Willow's hands were. Willow closed her eyes and imagined it was Tara's hand that now moved to cover her breast, delicately brushing across her nipple then taking it between thumb and forefinger and squeezing lightly, twisting gently from side to side, teasing until the tiny peak was so hard it was maddening. She imagined Tara's hand now moving further down to cup her mound in her palm, her fingers passing by on either side of her clit to rest on the warm, wet folds of her sex. With a shuddering breath she gently drew her fingers up between her lips, one by one, just her fingertips teasing the entrance to herself, then rising up towards the bundle of nerves which was screaming for attention as she steadfastly avoided it. Willow knew that, in her current state, it wouldn't take her long to achieve release, but seeing as her responsibilities didn't allow her to stay in her bedroom all day, she decided it was for the best, and resolved to make her short bout of self-indulgence a memorable one.

Her intentions were overruled by her body's demands, though, when for no reason she was quite aware of the image of Tara, naked, flashed across her mind, and she imagined herself licking and sucking the nipples she had only seen as glimpses beneath thin clothing. That simple thought made her open her eyes, just for a moment to orient herself, then take two steps and collapse onto her bed, rolling onto her back with her left hand squeezing one breast and then the other, and her right trapped between her thighs, which she clenched together with all the strength she could muster. She reveled in the somehow delightful sensation of her thighs pressing against each other, as her fingers, trapped as they were, wriggled in an attempt to satisfy her. She managed to maneuver the tip of a finger in between her lips, inside herself, then without conscious thought she somehow managed to bend her thumb underneath her palm to press on her clit, rubbing hard and fast. Her legs jolted, parted, her finger plunged into her wet sex as deep as it could, and she thrashed her head to one side and bit her pillow to keep from screaming Tara's name aloud.

She lay still for a moment, breathing in heavy gasps and keeping her hands still. 'I think I set some sort of speed record,' she thought with a grin, which made her laugh a little until she managed to catch her breath and extract her hand from between her legs. She slowly sat up and looked down at herself – the traces of wetness on her inner thighs, the slowly fading marks where her fingers had pressed into her breasts. She had to laugh when she noticed she still had her boots on. 'Just as well I didn't have underwear on,' she mused as she stood up gingerly and crossed to the basin to clean herself up. It was, she decided, going to be a long day.

Willow found herself – fully clothed – again in the Baron's study, glancing between the Baron, who was just putting down a thick volume he had been reading, and his advisor, who was as always deep in the middle of writing something.

"Traditions of the Vizjerei," the Baron explained, closing the book and leaving it on the side of his desk. "Seeing as I will be judge at Hydris's trial, I should know how his clan would handle such a matter, and what affect their ways may have on our local laws. No matter. The, um, steps you advised in your note yesterday have been undertaken, the materials destroyed as per your instructions, and the books you selected sealed in the vault beneath the castle. Now, if you please, what did you discover?" Willow took a deep breath and began.

"The mage was conducting a demonic ritual. My opinion is that he intended to summon a demon, but I should advise you that not all elements of the ritual were entirely familiar, from the texts I've read, so it's possible I'm mistaken on that. I'm sure that he intended to make contact of some sort with a demon, and I think it's very likely he was disturbed before he managed to do so."

"I see," the Baron said gravely, "well, we can be thankful for that. Would this ritual have affected Hydris in any way? Made him more prone to violent acts, such as the attack on the maid?"

"Possibly," Willow allowed, "but I have to emphasize that, in my opinion, he prepared the ritual in full knowledge of what he was doing. If he was unusually violent when he was disturbed, it was an effect of the ritual, not the cause of it."

"Yes, I understand. I'm told he has shown no signs of remorse since I last saw him, when he was quite uncommunicative. I don't doubt your judgment, Miss Willow, I merely ask to be thorough. I suppose that confirms most of what we suspected already – we suffered during the Reckoning, and it is still the case that when someone here thinks of 'black magic', demons come instantly to mind. My father held the throne then, until he fell in battle against the creatures laying siege to us. I hoped when it was over, and word came that the Reckoning had been won, that we had seen the last of their kind. Tell me, if you have discovered it – what demon was it that Hydris sought to bring here? There are several that are known to us, the leaders of the armies that fought us then."

"Hrm," the Baron grunted, "not one of those that were banished from here. Do you have any idea why he would choose that particular demon?" Willow hesitated, then sighed and nodded.

"Shadai was summoned several months ago, in Entsteig," she explained. "I was there. I had a... a small part in banishing it. If it's just... coincidence that this happened now, while I'm here, then I can't think of any other reason why it would be this demon. It's not one that is easily summoned, a-and the texts that speak of it, um, wouldn't be tempting to a summoner."

"That's one way of saying it, sir," she agreed. "During the Sin War, the Horadrim texts say that Shadai was a captain in the armies of Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred. She rebelled – apparently thought he was weak – a-and led her army north into Scosglen. She... she killed everything, the texts say. Not just people, but animals, plants, even the earth, she made the ground sick, a-and it took generations for anything to grow again there. When the ancestors of the Horadrim finally banished her, there was nothing left. The only people who live there now are settlers who came centuries later, from the tribes to the west of there."

"No," said Willow, "no-one knows why. Um, some of the texts say that the Prime Evils never forgave Shadai for rebelling against Mephisto. I-it's possible they refused to summon her when they brought their armies here."

"That's telling in itself," the Baron mused, "they brought every other kind of abomination to plague us, no matter how foul or murderous."

"Yes sir," Willow said, grateful she had been just a child at the time, and it had all happened far away. The Baron looked glum, then stood and bowed to Willow.

"Well, I thank you for your help," he said, "you have been invaluable in this difficult time. I shall make sure your Order is aware of the service you have rendered."

"And I'll see you at the dinner tonight? If, er, you and the Lady Tara wish to attend together," he said, seeming suddenly a little hesitant in his words, "I'll see that you're seated next to each other."

"Th-that's most kind of you," Willow said, smiling. She had noticed the Baron being quite generous in his treatment of her and Tara, when it must be obvious to him that they were, well, intimate. She wouldn't have expected it of a western nobleman, where attitudes were fairly archaic, but she wasn't about to question good fortune.

"Good, good," the Baron said distractedly, resuming his seat and opening the book of Vizjerei customs again. Willow bowed and left, silently agreeing with him – it was indeed very good.

After Willow left the Amazon quarters, Tara changed into her armor, gave her family circlet a quick polish before putting it on, then made her way down to the small dining hall on the ground floor that had been given to the Amazons for use as a meeting room. Tryptin was already there, busy as always with a handful of letters and carrying on a conversation with a minor dignitary in extravagant purple robes. He nodded to Tara when he saw her, concluded his business with the other man, and crossed the room to her, pausing to offer a word or two of advice to the various emissaries who were seated at the hall's long tables, discussing business or politics with visitors from the surrounding towns.

"There's been a slight change of plans," he said after exchanging good mornings with her. "We'll be leaving here in three days, rather than five. A rider arrived last night carrying news from the port, and announcing another caravan is on its way. Some merchants, but mainly a party of ambassadors from Duncraig returning home – they hadn't expected to arrive back for another week, but apparently their ship made good time crossing the Great Ocean."

"Yes, so it seems," Tryptin said, "their planned route is a little out of our way, further into the highlands away from the river to visit settlements, but it's worth the delay for the safety of a larger caravan. Some of the merchants coming down-river to Kingsport have been spreading rumors of bandit activity on the north roads – hard to tell how well-founded the rumors are, of course, but between our guards and the Duncraig caravan we'll have over thirty soldiers, which should deter any brigands we run across. They're arriving tomorrow morning, I think it would be beneficial if you were on hand to greet them with me. We hadn't planned to meet any of these people, but if they're of high standing in the Duncraig court as the messenger says, it will be useful to travel with them. Perhaps we'll have some of our work finished by the time we reach the city."

"Good, thank you. Oh, also," Tryptin went on, "is Miss Willow going to be staying with you in future?"

"Oh," Tara said, "I-I'm not sure. I think... maybe, I'll ask her." She couldn't think of any reason why Willow wouldn't want to, but she didn't want to make decisions for her, especially when both of them were still adjusting to their relationship. Tryptin nodded understandingly.

"Th-thank you," Tara said, "I-I'll ask her as soon as I see her. I-I think she probably will..."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Tryptin observed idly. At Tara's curious look, he elaborated: "I'm trained to notice things like this. Body language, expressions... believe me, if you want to get through a negotiation, the last thing you do is wait for people to tell you what they're thinking. Besides," he added with a grin, "the way you look at her, and she at you – I've seen that before."

"There's a young woman waiting at home who looks at me like that," Tryptin explained with a smile. "I know what it feels like. It changes a person... for the better, I'm sure." He shrugged. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to make her feel welcome among us."

"I-I will," Tara promised, "thank you. Y-you've been very kind already." Tryptin gave her a modest look.

"You've looked very happy since you two met," he said, "it's a comfort to have helped." They stood in companionable silence for a moment, Tara thoughtful and smiling shyly, Tryptin glancing around the room, seeming to absorb the murmur of the dozen or so conversations that were going on around them.

"Well, the delegation from Karlsband will be here soon," Tryptin said finally, "they're a few minutes late for some reason. There are some matters of policy we'll have to discuss which could take the morning. I'll need you there, though I'm afraid there won't be much for you to do. Perhaps you'd like to get something to eat before they arrive? I'll send for you when they do."

"Of course," Tara nodded. Tryptin smiled, took another glance around at the various meetings in progress, then went into one of the private meeting rooms adjacent to the hall, signaling for a servant to follow him. Tara picked a piece of bread and some cheese from one of the platters on the tables, and took a seat at the side of the hall.

Unsurprisingly, her thoughts kept returning to Willow. For a moment she smiled in recollection of Willow's daring teasing before breakfast – the image of her wearing Tara's short black robe and nothing else wasn't one she'd forget in a long while. Indeed, it had been quite an effort for Tara to calm herself down, even after Willow had returned to her own room. Of course, that was hardly Willow's fault – she remembered her own behavior, mercilessly teasing Willow as they lay together in bed, and afterwards flaunting herself for Willow, feeling just as warmed by the lusty gaze she had received as by the morning sun streaming through the window. She smiled at herself, at the notion of shy, quiet Tara displaying herself so obviously, deliberately choosing her lightest sleepwear, standing in front of Willow with full knowledge of how the curves of her body were being revealed – and instead of feeling embarrassed, she had been aroused by it. At one point, just before Willow had trumped her by stretching right in front of her with nothing but a short robe covering her, she had been imagining what it would be like to be naked in front of Willow, to have Willow's gaze travel all over her, her breasts, her nipples, between her legs... when Willow had stunned her, it had been those thoughts, still caught up in her fantasy, that had led her to return the favor, to grab her and kiss her, and then when she felt Willow relax, to slip her thigh between Willow's legs. The moment when Willow had thrust forward had been almost more than she could stand, when for a moment she felt the heat between Willow's thighs on her own – actually on her skin, with nothing between them! Just the memory of it- 'Stop it,' she insisted to herself, 'you're in a public place and you're about to sit in on a long session of negotiations, this is not the time to indulge in lurid recollections.'

She grinned at herself and took another bite of bread, crossing her legs to assuage, in a tiny way, the tingling between them. She thought for a moment about Tryptin's news, of the new caravan. Presumably it would keep the emissaries and Tryptin's people busy for the duration of the journey, and she guessed they might make good progress if the Duncraig ambassadors didn't have anything else much to occupy them along the way. That would leave her and Willow to their own devices most of the time – 'Goddess, you just don't stop, do you?' she thought. She wondered if their departure two days earlier than expected would affect Willow at all – perhaps, had she been studying as planned, but with Hydris imprisoned and in no condition to teach anything, she guessed it wouldn't be a problem. Two weeks or more, alone with Willow in a none-too-spacious wagon, sounded like heaven to Tara.

Of course, that was still a little while away. According to Tryptin they wouldn't be leaving for three days – she hadn't thought to ask whether the combined caravan would set out in the morning or afternoon, but she guessed morning, to get a full day's travel in before they had to stop for nightfall. Three days, at least one of which would be taken up with Hydris's trial – she frowned at the thought. There was the thief Josef, as well, Tara would have to attend his trial, although she imagined it would go fairly quickly. She wasn't looking forward to that – the memory of staring at the bolt in her hand, and slowly realizing it had been fired at her, was not one she had yet quite come to terms with. But it was necessary, both to demonstrate to the Baron that she, and by extension the Amazon nation, approved of his handling of the event, and to conform with the Amazon custom that a warrior would always face her enemy if given the chance. Tara decided that, her trepidation aside, it would be good for her to look into the face of the man who had tried to kill her – she imagined it might make the whole business more solid in her mind, less ethereal, and so she wouldn't be forever looking over her shoulder, worrying whether she was being watched by some nebulous stalker. She sighed, and resigned herself to it.

A happier thought entirely was the evening's dinner. Tara hoped she wouldn't be seated far from Willow, and wondered how much time they would be able to spend together during the evening, whether there would be dancing, what Willow might wear. Her Zann Esu battlegear would surely suffice to make her the center of attention, but Tara had a sneaking suspicion that Willow would surprise her, and couldn't wait to see how. Tara herself, of course, would be in her warrior gear again, though she thought it would be sufficient to wear her greaves and bracers, and leave her shoulder plates packed in her bedroom – they weren't the most comfortable things to wear, and the court had already got a good look at her in all her Amazon regalia, and she flattered herself that they wouldn't have forgotten it just yet. At least, the way Willow had praised her appearance... Tara couldn't stop herself from grinning again... and anyway, armored women were a rarity in Westmarch.

She wondered how she would approach the topic of Willow's sleeping arrangements. Waking up next to her – even with her momentary fit of shyness at discovering she had groped Willow in her sleep – had been one of the most pleasant experiences of Tara's life, and one she was keen to repeat. 'Indefinitely,' she admitted to herself – that would be a conversation for another day, though. For now, she pondered what might be the best approach. She was sure Willow wouldn't object, but she didn't want to appear too demanding, or conversely too hesitant. She had a sudden image of herself blurting out 'Would you sleep with me tonight?' to Willow, and then having to explain that she actually meant sleep, as opposed to... not sleep.

That thought, too, was daunting. When would she be ready to sleep with Willow? No, no euphemisms – have sex... make love? She had no doubt it would be the latter, she couldn't imagine it being any other way. But she wondered whether the nervousness she felt would ever subside, or if it was just something she would have to overcome. At the same time as she was discovering the sheer power of her attraction to Willow, she was finding a new side to herself, a Tara who reveled in being sensual, in being sexual. It was something she had never really experienced before. She knew about sex, of course – Amazon children who were coming of age were taught enough to ensure they would approach adulthood wisely, or at least as wisely as adolescents ever would. And once the girls reached puberty, the late-night gossiping in the clan halls turned to matters of sex as often as not, and as they grew older the shared stories became more fact than fiction. Tara was fairly confident she knew how it all worked – well, she certainly knew how her own body worked – but until know the knowledge had been on an intellectual level. She had thought about the various activities that had been discussed in hushed voices among the trainee girls, been quietly excited by some of them, even fantasized when she had taken advantage of the privacy of her bedroom to explore herself. Even then, though, the fleeting images that had passed through her mind had been curiously vague – thoughts simply of being kissed, being touched, rather than any notion of a particular person kissing or touching her.

She had never before truly considered herself as a sexual being, even when she had brought herself to orgasm. She had enjoyed the sensations, but comparing the idea of touching herself with the idea of Willow touching her, even if in exactly the same way – it was something else entirely. This Tara who felt Willow's eyes on her, and wanted to feel more, this Tara who teased, and aroused, and was proud of being able to drive Willow to distraction, to the point where their mutual attraction boiled over and they both got a little lost in their desire – after a lifetime of being pensive and unassuming, it was something of a shock for Tara to find she was capable of such hedonistic abandon. Or, as her fellow trainees would say, 'a wild one in the sack'. Tara allowed herself a wicked grin. Who would have thought? Then again, she had a vague memory of someone once advancing the opinion that 'it's always the quiet ones'. Perhaps there was something in that.

She finished her snack and leant back in her seat, folding her arms while she waited. She wondered how much free rein to give that side of herself. She was glad that side of herself was there, and was present in Willow as well, to judge by the way she delighted in returning Tara's sensual teasing, but common sense had to have its place if they were to consummate their love the way Tara wanted to – perfectly. Perhaps that was over-ambitious, but Tara's instructors had always told her to set her goals high. 'Aim for the top,' Solari had been fond of saying, 'even if you fall a bit short, you'll be surprised how high you get.' This probably wasn't what her weapons instructor had had in mind, but Tara thought it sound advice. And if she and Willow gave in to their passions without a second thought, then perhaps it would be too soon, or too rushed, or one or both of them would still be too tentative, and wind up somehow unsatisfied. Tara wasn't worried that their relationship might be soured by the experience – she knew herself better than that, and she was convinced she knew Willow well enough to believe likewise – but their first time... the first time she made love to Willow... the first time would only happen once, and Tara wanted to be able to look back on it with nothing but joy.

Doubtless she would get the opportunity to discuss it with Willow. She sensed Willow felt the same way, that she wanted to spend some time at least getting familiar with the intimacy between them, so there was no great rush to establish ground rules. Sometime in the next couple of days, Tara mused, when Willow seemed receptive to such an intimate conversation, she would do her best to tell Willow what she was feeling, and why. That would be best – then there would be no doubts or misunderstandings between them, and they would be able to work out when they were ready, together, and enjoy both the growth of their love and the prospect of its consummation in the not-too-distant future without any anxiety, or trying to guess what the other was thinking.

That just left asking Willow to stay with her. Tara decided that, surely, she would have a moment alone with Willow to ask her during the evening. She had managed it once already, of course, but Willow had been tired and upset, and if Tara had felt nothing but chaste friendship for her she still wouldn't have let her go, to sleep alone in an empty room. Tara didn't delude herself that Willow was entirely free of the after-effects of her experience with the demon, or the sudden shock of finding traces of it in the mage's ritual, but she was at least dealing with it in her own time, finding what peace she could and rebuilding her dreams, rather than letting the nightmares take hold. Tara suspected it was a process that had begun long before they met – probably with Ember, who Tara felt indebted to for her kindness towards Willow – but it was a process still in motion, and one Tara committed herself to helping. Still, Willow today was not the shocked, anxious Willow of last night, and asking her to share Tara's bed was a different matter. Of course it was something Tara wanted, something she was sure Willow wanted, but that didn't account for the emotion involved – it was like saying that she wanted to make love to Willow. It was the simple truth, but the idea of it still sent her pulse racing.

'We'll see,' Tara promised herself, 'if worst comes to worst, just blurt it out and deal with blushing furiously for the rest of the night.' One thing was for sure: Tara would not let anything stand between her and once more waking up with Willow cradled in her arms.

Tara checked herself in the mirror one last time before walking out into the common room, where the most prominent of the emissaries and negotiators were gathering. She had left her hair down after drying it, liking the way her treatment had given it a slight waviness that she thought was much more appealing than its usual straightness. Leaving her hair untied wouldn't be practical for a warrior, but the evening was purely a social gathering, and as she had already been presented to the court as Tara, Amazon warrior, she decided to indulge herself and appear a little more... well, feminine. Not that her ceremonial dress and look was in any way un-feminine, but she acknowledged that there was quite a difference between that proud, aggressive image and the quiet elegance she was hoping to achieve tonight. If it weren't for Willow, of course, she doubted she'd have even given so much thought to her appearance.

Tryptin glanced at her, nodded amiably in approval, and motioned towards Melcan. Being an apprentice he was not strictly included in the party to attend the Baron's dinner, but Tryptin had suggested he come along as Tara's attendant, which would have the dual benefit of relieving Tara of the responsibility of handling a court dinner and her spear at the same time, and giving the boy a chance to observe his elders, while no-one would really be paying attention to him. Tara handed him Silverstrike, then fell in behind Tryptin as he and the other half-dozen Amazons left the common room and headed for the keep, where the dinner was being held in one of the smaller dining halls.

The room was brightly lit by torches along the walls, spaced between banners and tapestries, and already full of the murmur of conversation when they arrived. The sound stilled somewhat, and the Baron rose from his chair to greet the Amazons, but Tara's eyes were instantly drawn to Willow, two seats along the table from him. She, and the rest of the diners, rose a fraction after the Baron, and Tara saw Willow's eyes quickly scan the faces of the Amazons before finding and settling on her. Willow smiled joyfully, and nodded discreetly to the chair beside her, which was empty – 'For me?' Tara hoped. She smiled in return, and found her gaze lingering on Willow while Tryptin accepted the Baron's welcome.

Willow had tied her hair back, knotted in a translucent silver scarf that made her scarlet hair only more striking, but she had left a few strands loose on either side of her brow, framing her face. Her dress was emerald green, like her battlegear, but more traditional in style. Staring at her from across the table as she stood, Tara could see the top of a long, flowing skirt composed of many layers of thin fabric, the outer folds of which seemed almost to float around her as she moved – Tara thought it must be light as air, and wondered what it would feel like to wear. 'Or touch.' Willow's middle was clad in a tight wrap of matching fabric that clung to the curves of her waist, and from that came a silky-smooth top that cupped her breasts, leaving a teardrop-shaped gap that revealed her cleavage before it wove into straps that were looped around the back of her neck, leaving her shoulders bare.

Tryptin took care of the formal greetings, though Tara noticed the Baron favor her with a nod, which she returned, and then the Amazons were shown to their seats. Tara was delighted to find herself shown to the empty chair beside Willow, which Melcan held out for her before taking his place at the end of the table, out of everyone's way. Tara smiled politely at the Baron's advisor, seated on her other side, before turning her attention entirely to Willow.

"You look lovely," Willow murmured as the conversations around them resumed. Tara felt herself blush faintly, and smiled.

"Th-thank you," she said, "so do you. I-I thought you'd come up with something to surprise me."

"Oh, I have," Willow promised with a mysterious smirk. Tara's eyes widened, but Willow seemed in no hurry to elaborate.

"So, is this traditional sorceress battlegear as well?" Tara asked. "Because if it is, y-you're easily the most elegant order ever." Willow chuckled.

"No, it's something I bought while I was in Entsteig," she said after taking a sip of wine. Tara noticed she didn't frown at all when she mentioned the place, and was pleased to see that her nerves weren't so frayed as they had been the previous night. "I used to wear full robes a lot," Willow explained, "'cause it's kind of cold up there, and one weekend when I was out in the city with the other girls – we always used to spend our free days around the Gotunberg markets – Saria dared me to buy this. 'Cause, you know, she figured I wouldn't, being all serious-minded as I was. So I did, just to see the look on her face."

"Yeah, well," Willow grinned, "I never actually wore it until now. Down here everything I've got looks kind of exotic, I guess, but in Entsteig they're pretty reserved, a-and this would be considered, well, more revealing than a good young woman should be." Tara smiled, noticing the tiniest hint of a blush on Willow's cheeks, and leaned closer to her.

"It's not the most revealing thing you've worn today," she whispered, then leaned back and assumed her most innocent expression as Willow shot her a scandalized look.

With all the guests present the Baron signaled for the servants, who moved along the length of the table laying out plates, then bowls of a rather tasty vegetable soup that stirred Tara's appetite.

"Tryptin told me this morning," Tara said, "we'll be going north together. Y-you're staying with us?" she added.

"Of course," Willow reassured her, "besides, there's no reason for me to stay here any longer. I'll be with you all the way."

"We'll see whether you still think my snoring is cute by the time we get to Duncraig," Tara joked quietly, so only Willow could hear.

"Well, they say the cure for snoring is to roll the person onto their side," Willow observed playfully.

"I know," Willow answered. Tara wasn't sure exactly what Willow meant by that, but she got the general idea well enough from the inviting glance Willow gave her.

"Um, speaking of sleeping arrangements," she said softly, wanting to get it out of the way, "I was thinking, i-if you'd like of course, maybe you'd stay, um, in the Amazon quarters while we're here? Um, with me, I-I mean." She felt her shyness reasserting itself, but risked a glance at Willow, and saw a lovely smile dawning on her face.

"I'd love to," Willow answered, keeping her voice down, "I was hoping I could..."

"Of course," Tara said instantly, "o-of course, I-I'd love you to as well." They shared a smile for a long moment, Willow gazing openly at Tara, Tara wishing they were alone so she could embrace Willow in a tight hug, just to be as close to her as possible.

"Lady Tara?" A voice broke her out of her reverie. She turned to see Stefan, the archer, across the table two seats down.

"No, of course," Tara said quickly, wondering just how long she and Willow had been wrapped up in each other's gaze. "Um, this is Willow, she's a sorceress, we're traveling together."

"Yes, I remember your entrance the other night," Stefan said with a grin that would have been presumptuous had he been twenty years younger. As it was, Willow blushed and Tara had to stifle a giggle.

"Willow, this is Stefan," she introduced him, "h-he's the castle's best archer, we met before the hunt."

"Second-best until you leave, I fear," Stefan said after exchanging polite greetings with Willow, "but if it's not too much trouble, I really would appreciate the contest I mentioned that day. My reputation may take a slight beating, but it'll be a story to tell my grandson in a couple of years."

"We haven't recruited any new guards recently," Stefan said, "so my training duties are light at the moment. But if it's not an imposition on your time, tomorrow afternoon would be a good opportunity. There's a regular meeting in Maresburg, the town nearest the castle, mostly for the local sportsmen and guards of course, but I attend more often than not – as a spectator, usually, to judge the talent of the competitors. I think the townsfolk would think it a memorable occasion to see an Amazon archer."

"I-I'm fairly sure I'm free then," Tara said, "if you'll excuse me a moment... Tryptin?"

"We can spare you for the afternoon," he said before returning to a discussion he was having with the master-at-arms. He was sitting next to Stefan, but Tara hadn't even noticed him paying any attention to the conversation. 'Then again,' she thought, 'he's the head of the mission. Keeping an eye and an ear on everything is part of his job.'

"What kind of contest?" Willow asked, when the Baron turned away to call for the main course. "Well, archery obviously," she answered herself before Tara could, "but, I mean, just target practice?"

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "probably something like that." She grinned. "I-I've heard that at contests like this, it's customary for the competitors to ask for the favor of a beautiful lady beforehand." She looked at Willow shyly.

"I've heard that too," Willow said softly, leaning close to Tara, "the ladies choose warriors to compete for them. Want to be my warrior?" she whispered. Tara nodded and turned to face Willow fully.

"Oh yes," Willow breathed, "I certainly will." Tara felt the urge to kiss Willow, and had to ignore it – 'Just for now,' she promised herself. She wondered how exactly they had gone from idly chatter to teasing to something very intimate and special, all in the space of a few words. It seemed she couldn't be around Willow without feeling elated. 'Tryptin was right,' she mused, 'love changes you.' Then again, she wondered if what she was feeling was in fact who she had always been, deep down. She felt freer than ever before.

A moment later she felt Willow's toes stroking the back of her ankle. She had worn light sandals, rather than the full-height boots to go with her greaves – they weren't necessary except as protection – so while the front of her calves were covered in bronze, the backs were bare, apart from the leather straps holding the armor in place. Checking that no-one was paying her very much attention, she leaned back and stole a quick glance beneath the table. One of Willow's short boots lay empty, and she was deliberately stroking Tara's lower leg with her naked foot, all the while appearing to be smiling amiably at her, as if nothing at all was going on. Tara stared at her, eyes wide – Willow merely raised an eyebrow, then glanced away and appeared to take an interest in a discussion on her other side, between the head of Kingsport's merchant guild, sitting beside the Baron, and Jasken, the gemstone dealer from the caravan, opposite him. Willow turned slightly in her seat, apparently to face the men she was listening to, but in doing so she allowed herself a greater freedom of movement with her leg. She pressed her foot against the back of Tara's calf, and slid it slowly all the way up to the straps at her knee.

Tara gulped a breath of air and did her best to look entirely relaxed. She fixed her eyes on her food – someone had evidently mentioned her preferences to the servants, so that instead of the roast she had been given a plate full of vegetables in a delicious cream sauce. She was just working her way through the potatoes – crispy, with a spicy bite to them, which led her to think that the Baron didn't employ his cooks exclusively for their talent with meat – when an idea occurred to her.

She stretched out her leg underneath the table, giving Willow unrestricted access to her leg. She thought she caught the faintest trace of a grin on Willow's face, but it was well-hidden. Willow shifted again in her seat, however, to curl her leg upwards, her toes stroking the underside of Tara's outstretched thigh. 'Flexible,' Tara thought with a wicked grin, hastily replaced by an expression of bland interest in the dinner conversation around her. That put Willow in exactly the position Tara wanted, but she held off on her plan for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of Willow's covert attentions, and periodically glancing around to make sure that none of the other diners had any idea what was going on. Truly, they were safe enough – the table was big and solid, and everyone's chairs were pulled up close to it, so that most of the action was taking place beneath four inches of wood. Tara reassured herself that she could only see Willow's interesting position because she was right next to her, able to lean back and look in the gap between their chairs.

'Right then,' she thought mischievously. Next time Willow caressed her down to the knee, Tara abruptly bent her leg, trapping Willow's foot between her calf and thigh. Willow jumped slightly, not enough for anyone to notice, but resisted the urge she must have felt to turn back towards Tara. Tara took another bite of her dinner, dabbed her lips delicate with her napkin, and on returning it to her lap left her hand beneath the table, while she took her glass in the other and sipped her wine. She reached out with a single finger, and gently tickled Willow's ankle. She noticed a certain rigid set to Willow's jaw that hadn't been there previously, but all in all, she thought, Willow was holding up remarkably well. She slowly trailed her finger along the back of Willow's calf – she couldn't quite reach her knee without bending down, which would have been too obvious, so instead she shifted a little closer to Willow and transferred her touch to Willow's thigh, dragging her fingertip back and forth in the gap where the slit of her skirt had pulled open.

Willow finally turned to give her a sidelong look, and Tara contrived to look as guileless as possible. Willow wiggled her foot a little, but Tara held her firmly in place, so she leaned over to Tara, her expression one of resolute innocence.

"Good," Tara said with a quick grin. Willow smiled, probably a little more sexily than she had intended to, and sat up straight again, as Tara continued to stroke her leg, alternative between her ankle and thigh. Tara cast her covert glances as she made her way through her dinner one-handed, noticing the enticing way her chest moved as her breathing became a little faster and deeper. From where Tara was sitting, Willow's dress offered a fantastic view of her cleavage. After a few minutes Willow leaned back to her.

"My leg's getting tired," she admitted. Tara relaxed her leg and let Willow go, earning a grateful smile from her. Willow let her foot fall back to the floor, and sneakily wiggled back into her boot, then gave Tara a look that had more than a hint of suggestion in it. Tara frowned slightly, confused, and Willow dropped her eyes for a moment, looking down between them. She resumed her nonchalant behavior, paying attention to whoever around them was talking, as Tara discreetly glanced down, and saw that Willow had managed to pull her skirt up a little way, so that the top of the skirt was bunched around her waist on Tara's side, and the slit ran all the way up to her hip. Tara leaned over towards Willow, reaching her fork across the table to skewer another potato from one of the platters, while beneath the table she took a handful of Willow's thigh, right up where it met her hip, and gave her a playful squeeze. Willow squirmed slightly in her seat, pushing herself into Tara's hand.

"Miss Willow, if I may?" came a voice from down the table. 'Damn,' Tara thought wholeheartedly, sitting back and letting Willow answer without being distracted. The speaker was a middle-aged man with a thin gray moustache. Tara had vaguely noticed him before, when the Amazons had arrived – he had stood with the help of a cane, and his clothes were finely tailored.

"I understand your order of mages values purity above all else?" he asked Willow.

"That's right," she said. "We use only elemental magic, which can't be influenced the way other magics can."

"Quite," said the man, "but surely there is more to it than just a particular brand of magic? Or are your elemental sorceresses incapable of evil?"

"No, of course not," Willow explained, "the purity of the magic is that it's free of influence, of any kind of influence, good or evil. That way, a sorceress can't be manipulated by outside forces. But, of course, it means we're entirely responsible for how we conduct ourselves."

"Of course," the man said with a friendly smile. "But can't the same be said of other orders? Surely one would not contemplate, for example, that a paladin of Zakarum could be made to do evil by his devotion to his faith?" Tara frowned, noticing something irritatingly persistent about the way the man was questioning Willow.

"I-it's not that simple," Willow protested, "the Zakarum worship a power of light, but they're only human. It's possible for another force, a demon for instance, to use that worship to corrupt them, if it can trick them into believing that it's an angel. The paladins call them 'false lights', they spend a lot of time training to recognize them, a-and resist them."

"But they're only human," the man repeated, nodding. "Yes, I understand. Tell me, have any of your order ever become corrupted?" The conversations along the length of the table were falling silent, leaving all attention on Willow and the man. She took a moment to think about her answer.

"Corrupted, no," she said. "No, in our histories, and those of the Horadrim, there are no records of any sorceresses who have ever served demons."

"Of course not," the man said quickly, "but there are other forms of corruption, aren't there? It's not uncommon that people, quite without the aid of magic, can become corrupted by power, or privilege. Or immoral behavior, even." The silence around the table had become tense, and Tara suddenly wished the man would shut up and leave Willow alone.

"Humans aren't perfect," Willow said, with an edge to her voice, "but we do our best to devote ourselves to serving the forces of good, a-and avoid situations that could... induce us to ignore that service."

"A sound policy," the man said graciously, "but how then would your order feel about you being in the close company of your, uh, friend from the Amazons?"

"Excuse me?" Willow blurted out, while Tara blinked in shock at the implied insult. The other Amazons were exchanging concerned glances, several of the other guests were plainly embarrassed by the turn the conversation had taken, and the Baron's master-at-arms was glaring furiously at the speaker.

"You're aware, Miss Willow," he went on, "of the tendency of their women to... associate with each other? Clearly contrary to correct moral behavior. I wonder how you might reconcile such a situation with your devotion to purity?"

"I meant no offence, Baron," the man, von Karlin, said, raising his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "Among their own tribe, the practices of our honored guests are their own. I merely observe that, in civilized society, it is unacceptable to-"

"If you meant no offence," the Baron said in a raised voice, "you should have refrained from being offensive!"

"Of course, Baron," von Karlin said with a thin smile. He stood and dropped his napkin on the table beside his half-empty plate. "If you'll excuse me?" He stalked out without waiting for the Baron's leave. There was an uncomfortable silence in the wake of his departure.

"Let that be the end of that," the Baron said firmly. There was a general sigh of relief as conversations quietly resumed between the assembled guests. Tara turned to Willow, noticing a strained look on her face.

"Fine," she said, "just- it was unexpected, that's all. It was bound to happen sooner or later." She took a gulp of wine and sighed.

"Fine," Tara answered. "I-I was prepared for something like that... we know how some people feel about Amazons, a-and women, um, being with each other. It's just... it's not nice," she finished, painfully aware of how inadequate that was to describe the way von Karlin's words had hurt her. She knew she was a good person, and there was nothing wrong with her love for Willow – but it was a difficult thing, to have a complete stranger barely glance at her, and yet condemn her.

"Hey," Willow said softly, leaning close to Tara, "I am proud of the way I feel about you." Tara's mouth opened, but she couldn't find the words to tell Willow how grateful she was. Instead, she kissed Willow quickly on the cheek, and the surprised joy in Willow's eyes made her feel like she had just been blessed.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, both Willow and Tara being engaged in conversations with the other guests sitting near them, or listening to each other when they had a free moment. Tara was gratified to find Willow leaning on her elbow, hanging on her every word, as she discussed the government of the Amazon nation with the Baron's advisor, who introduced himself as Franzef, and a few minutes later she found herself just as entranced by Willow's description to Stefan of how a shard of ice could be created already in motion, so that it flew like an arrow without needing to be physically launched. Tara set aside her wineglass after a short while, suspecting that the light wine might be a little stronger than it seemed. That theory was confirmed when the Baron finally called an end to the night, and Willow stumbled slightly as she rose from her seat. Tara caught her arm and kept her upright, but Willow was still a touch unstable on her feet as they made their way back to the south wing of the castle, on the tail of the rest of the Amazons.

"Nonsense," Willow proclaimed. "I'm perfetly sober. Pereft... perf... Okay, p'rhaps you've got a point," she conceded. Tara smiled and kept a steady grip on Willow's arm, which she admitted probably wasn't strictly necessary, with Willow having her staff to support her, but she wasn't about to refuse the opportunity to walk arm-in-arm with her. Willow let herself be guided to Tara's bedroom, and gave her a kiss on the cheek as Tara took her staff to lean in the corner with her spear. Tara extinguished most of the candles lighting the room, leaving only a couple near the mirror to cast a little light to see by. Willow slid out of her boots, then fumbled with the scarf in her hair for a moment before she gave up and let Tara untie it, humming to herself as Tara enjoyed running her fingers through her silky hair.

"Would'ya untie me while you're back there?" Willow asked. Tara glanced down at the back of Willow's dress, noticing it was held together by a corset-like series of loops, tied in a bow just beneath her shoulders. She undid the straps around the back of Willow's neck first, and Willow stood up straight as Tara then undid the cord on her back, loosening the loops a little then turning to her trunk.

"I-I'll get you a robe," she said, debating whether to give Willow the revealing black one she had worn the previous night, or something slightly more modest.

"No need," Willow said promptly. Tara turned back to see her wriggle her torso free of her dress, and let it slide silkily down her legs to the floor. She might have easily spent a long time staring contentedly at Willow's smooth back, or her slim, perfectly-formed legs, or even contemplating the fact that Willow was now naked from the waist up. But she did none of these things, because without any control at all, she found all her attention drawn to Willow's bottom. Instead of being covered by briefs, the round cheeks of her rear were quite bare – from between them, a thin wisp of silk emerged, widening into a triangle just as it joined the waistband of the most revealing piece of underwear Tara had ever seen. It was like the leather underwear that went with her armor, she thought distractedly, but instead of being thick and slightly uncomfortable, made for durability and so as not to become a nuisance during strenuous fighting, this seemed designed for a single purpose: to make Willow's backside look more delectable than Tara could ever have imagined.

"Goes with the dress," Willow said, leaning forward to pull back the covers on the bed. "Told you I'd surprise you." She knelt on the edge of the bed for a moment, giving Tara an absolutely perfect view of what was burned into her memory as an absolutely perfect bottom, then she lay down and pulled the blankets up over herself, rolling over onto her back once she was covered.

'Almost,' Tara thought, making herself blush and grin at the same time. She could hear in Willow's voice that she was sleepy – probably made a bit drowsy by the wine, she thought, and seeing as it didn't seem getting to sleep would be a problem, she decided she could afford to tease Willow some more, without it leading to either of them becoming unduly frustrated.

She undid her bracers and laid them on the table, then turned around and put first one foot, then the other, up on the chair as she undid the straps on her greaves. She saw Willow watching her, and gave each leg a quick stroke, from ankle to thigh, as she removed the armor from them – Willow's eyes followed her hands each time. Then she undid the short leather skirt she had chosen to go with the outfit, holding it with one hand to keep it from falling straight away. Turning away from Willow, she slowly bent over, sliding the skirt down her legs as she went, until she was touching her toes. As always, the feel of Willow's gaze unashamedly fixed on her body stirred something in Tara. She tossed the skirt away and stood up, removing her circlet and running her fingers through her hair, which was starting to return to its usual straightness. Keeping an eye on Willow in the mirror, she took hold of her tunic in both hands and slowly pulled it up over her head. With one arm she sent it flying into the laundry basket on the floor, then reached behind herself to unhook the bra she had worn beneath it, seeing as there had been no need to wear the harness that went with her full armor. With a quick motion she released the catch, then slid the straps from first one shoulder, then the other, and let the material fall into her hands. She stood still for a moment, watching Willow in the mirror, then she leant down and blew out the remaining candles.

There was no moonlight to speak of coming through the clouds outside, so the room was in near-total darkness even before Tara closed the shutters and slid into her side of the bed. She reached out for Willow, and found her already shifting into the position she had fallen asleep in the night before, in the middle of the bed so Tara could lie against her, with an arm around her waist.

"I've... I..." Willow hesitated, then shifted as she looked over her shoulder, even though she could barely see anything. "Tara?"

"I'm not just saying that because I'm full of wine," Willow said quickly, "I'm not that drunk anyway... and I've known I loved you for... it seems so long already... a-and not long enough, you know? I-I want right now to last forever, a-and I can't wait for tomorrow and the next day, and all the time I'm going to spend with you. Or maybe I am drunk, I'm not sure I know what that means..."

"It means you love me the way I love you," Tara whispered. Willow's breath caught for a second, then she rolled over, her arms going around Tara's waist.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow whispered, "I love you so much. I... I th-think I'm gonna cry," she admitted.

"Shh, it's alright," Tara assured her, "go to sleep. I love you, my beautiful Willow."

"Mmm, I love you... my warrior," Willow said sleepily. She kissed Tara, gently letting her tongue roam past her lips, finishing by taking Tara's lip between her own and sucking it longingly, then rolled over again in her arms, covering Tara's hand on her stomach with her own. Tara cradled her, enjoying the feeling of her breasts naked against Willow's back, and listened to the rhythm of Willow's breathing until she was sure she was asleep. Then, at last, she let her eyes close on the happiest day of her life.

Willow awoke to conflicting sensations. Tara was pressed up against her, her legs curled in behind Willow's, her arm draped lovingly over Willow's waist, and her hand once again softly cupping Willow's breast. This time, though, there was no robe between them, so Willow felt not only the satisfying, arousing touch of Tara's palm over her naked breast, but also practically every inch of their bodies in contact with each other, Tara's briefs and Willow's supremely minimalist underwear counting for nothing in that regard. It was the kind of awakening that angels would pray for.

On the other hand, she had a pounding headache, and when she opened her eyes she found that even the small amount of sunlight filtering through the shutters was too much. She winced involuntarily, which caused Tara to stir in her sleep.

"Beautiful Willow..." Tara murmured, as if she had held that same thought in her mind since the night before. "Mmm... morning," she added.

Willow tried to say 'morning', but what came out was more like "Mmmrrrgh." She took a deep breath and tried to sort out her vocal cords.

"Maybe," Willow grumbled, tilting her head as much as she dared to get a glimpse of Tara.

"I'll kiss it better," Tara whispered, lifting her head slightly to brush her lips against Willow's forehead. At the same time she squeezed Willow's breast gently, bringing a smile to Willow's lips and making her give voice to a tiny moan. Her headache beat a hasty retreat, and suddenly she felt a lot better about waking up.

"I don't think there's a demon in there," she said in a sly tone as Tara's hand continued to gently massage her breast.

"Oh," said Tara, feigning disappointment, "so you don't want me to kiss it better?"

"I love you," Willow said immediately, without even thinking about it. Tara kissed the back of her neck, then teased her ear with the tip of her tongue.

"I love you too," she whispered, the touch of her breath in Willow's ear making her shudder. "About that kiss...?" she added, before closing her lips around Willow's earlobe and sucking it gently.

"What's the matter?" Tara asked gently, ceasing her teasing of Willow's ear. Willow heard the slight anxiety in her voice, and suddenly nothing was as important as reassuring her, letting her understand she had not done anything wrong, and as far as Willow was concerned could never do anything wrong. Tara's eyes were wide and searching as Willow turned in her embrace, facing her.

"I love you so much," she assured her, "and I love everything you do to me, everything we've done, I- the way you make me feel, everything. And, gods, the way you drive me wild, it's amazing. It's just, that's kind of it, I lose control, a-and it kind of feels like you do too... not that I don't like that! I love it, I promise, the way you- it feels like you need me so badly, like I need you, and... I'm just worried if we get like that, a-and we get, you know, so excited, um, we might, you know... go too far? Not that I don't want to, I-I do, so much, it's just that, when we... when we..." she hesitated.

"When we make love," she repeated, "yeah... um, I want it to be... this is going to sound so dumb," she said shyly, "I want it to be perfect. And I know it's going to be totally new whatever happens, and so, you know, probably a fair bit of fumbling around and figuring things out, a-and I kind of don't mind that, you know? Like, that's all part of it, a-and part of the experience, and I'm going to love it, I'm so sure... but right now, everything's so new, just touching you is... I-I get shivers, I know I don't always show it, but it's so... new," she finished with a little shrug.

"I just want to get... well, not used to you," Willow interrupted herself, "I don't think I'll ever get used to you, you know? Like, I'm always going to feel a bit like it's the first time when I touch you, a-and I think that's so great... I just think, maybe, in a little time – not too much time, of course – I'll be a bit more, you know, confident. So, I just don't want things to go too fast just yet. Do you get that? Is that okay?" she finished, looking at Tara with eyes that were almost pleading.

"Oh Willow," Tara said, her anxiety laid to rest, at once now intent on reassuring Willow, and finding her utterly adorable at the same time. "Of course it's okay, I-I'd do anything for you, and I-I understand, I feel the same way... I want it to be perfect too. It will be," she promised Willow.

"You're so wonderful," Willow said in quiet amazement. She stared at Tara in silence for a moment, radiating love, then remembered what she had been saying.

"I just wanted you to know," she said hastily, "that's all, I don't mean that I don't want to, you know... be with you... um, touch you, a-and you touch me, in the meantime. 'Cause I do, so much, I love you so much and when we're together, you know, intimately, like this, it feels so... I don't have words for it, it's like everything is right, everything in the whole world is, is perfect. I just needed you to know, you know, so you wouldn't get too, um, too... you know, a-and get frustrated if we didn't, um, if we had to stop then."

"I understand," Tara said soothingly, "I know... I don't w-want to take this too fast either. I-I won't do anything I can't... that would be difficult to... slow down," she finished.

"That's all I wanted," Willow promised, "I didn't want you to get frustrated, i-if you got, um..."

"Aroused?" Tara asked silkily. Willow nodded. "It's alright," Tara assured her, "I know we have to wait, until we're both ready. And until then I promise I'll be fine."

"Me too," Willow said, "I like this, when we're intimate... even when I get, um, aroused, it's a good feeling, it's so good... even if we don't make love, just the feeling is..."

"I know," Tara said, "I love how you make me feel." She snuggled closer to Willow, pressing their breasts together between them. Willow moaned and wriggled her body, loving the feel of her breasts, her nipples, moving against Tara's. She closed her eyes and delighted in the feel of Tara's breasts... 'Gods, there's so much of them,' she thought giddily, feeling them against her skin. She took a deep breath, lifting her chest, feeling her and Tara's breasts flatten against each other as their mutual tight embrace squeezed them. She heard Tara sigh, and having caused her pleasure made Willow shiver along the length of her body.

"Y-you make me feel beautiful," Tara whispered, "sexy... you make me need you... you make me hot... insatiable... and so wet..." Willow's breath caught, then without conscious thought she lunged forward the short distance between them, capturing Tara's lips in a heated kiss, her tongue thrusting in the second Tara's mouth opened for her. She heard and felt Tara moan into her kiss, and concentrated entirely on the pure softness of Tara's lips, the warmth of her mouth, the way her tongue danced with Willow's, stroking and caressing as if it had a mind of its own. She barely noticed her legs becoming tangled with Tara's, or anything at all until she felt, on her thigh, the press of silky material, with heat and wetness behind it. With a shuddering gasp, she pulled back from the kiss, halting for a moment as she felt her tongue being trapped between Tara's lips and sucked enthusiastically, before finally separating.

"I-I think this is where we go slow," she managed to say between panting, desperate breaths.

"Yeah," Tara breathed, a little smile playing over her lips. "But... that doesn't mean w-we have to let go... does it?" Willow knew that if she asked, Tara would pull back without complaint... but she also knew she didn't want that, and neither did Tara.

"I think," she said slowly, "we should stay right where we are." The heat radiating from Tara's silk-covered sex pressed against her thigh was incredible. Willow could feel herself becoming aroused by it, just by the feel of it. Without any movement or encouragement on Willow's part, her body was filling with heat, her nipples already poking with determination into the yielding flesh of Tara's breasts – and she could feel Tara's nipples doing the same to hers – and between her legs, very close, in fact, to Tara's thigh, a growing warmth and wetness. Willow felt ecstatically decadent, lying still against Tara, both of them so obviously aroused, making no effort to hide it from each other – in fact, deliberately prolonging their embrace, knowing the signs of their arousal were so blatantly evident. Willow realized that they weren't quite sharing equally yet, and lifted her leg a fraction. With no further communication, Tara shifted her thigh forwards, bringing it into contact with Willow's revealing underwear, and through that flimsy barrier, her sex.

"Oh godssss," Willow hissed, letting her leg rest on top of Tara's thigh, relaxing her body completely. She had to exercise some self-restraint not to move her hips, to grind her sex against Tara's leg to bring herself the release that would inevitably ensue. But there was a certain erotic attraction to their stillness, the way they lay together, sharing their bodies. It was, Willow realized, a step towards sharing the complete range of pleasures they could give each other, this simple act of being in close contact, of revealing in physical terms their mutual attraction, their love, and the deep, unquenchable hunger that went with it.

"So," Tara murmured, "I drive you wild?" Mostly her voice sounded utterly seductive, but Willow detected a hint of doubt, as if Tara couldn't quite believe she was capable of it, despite all the evidence.

"Remember yesterday morning?" Willow asked. Tara nodded. "After I went and stretched right in front of you, you remember how you kissed me?"

"A-and then how you kept glancing at me all morning until I had to go back to my room," Willow went on, "you know, those little looks? The ones that said 'I know you're not wearing anything under that skirt'?"

"Every time you looked at me, I felt so... so sexual. A-and it was like, you and I were sharing this thing, this experience that was so intimate, in the middle of a room full of people, and none of them knew. Just you and me, our little secret... none of them knew what you knew, or knew how you were making me feel just by looking at me like that."

"When I got back to my room," Willow whispered, making an effort not to let her shyness overcome her, "I closed the shutters... I took off all my clothes... stood in front of the mirror in just my boots, looking at myself... I-I imagined it was you there with me, touching me... I-I touched myself, thinking of you... I- my breasts... a-and... m-my sex." She could feel Tara's breathing become shallow, and her own as well, but as she spoke words that, a short time ago, she could never have imagined saying to another person, she felt a boldness stir within her. She wanted Tara to hear this, to hear these words from her, this intimate moment she was sharing.

"I-I lay down," she went on, her voice shaking slightly, "on the bed... I thought of you, of you naked, a-and your breasts... I-I imagined kissing you... there..." She licked her lips unconsciously. "I felt so... thinking of you, like that, made me so... I-I lay down, a-and I... squeezed my breasts... one after the other... hard... I-I dug my fingers in a little... a-and my other hand... I... between my legs... I stroked myself... I-I rubbed m-my clit... a-and... one finger, I... I put it... inside myself... f-first just the tip... in me... just a little... a-and then... deeper... all the way... a-and... I-I... I came..."

Tara's breathing was fast and shallow, the heat against Willow's thigh intense, and Willow could feel little tremors running through Tara's hips and legs as she held herself still.

"I love you Willow," she whispered, "I love you, just don't move... I need... I just have to... calm down... a little... oh goddess I love you..."

"Tara," Willow murmured, trembling at what she was about to suggest, "do you want... do you want to...?" Tara stared into Willow's eyes, her gaze a mix of concern and desperation.

"Hold me," Tara pleaded, closing her eyes. Willow tightened her arms around Tara, holding the entire length of their bodies together, and edged her thigh upwards just a fraction, increasing the pressure on Tara's sex. Tara breathed in short gasps, her hips rocking against Willow – whether by chance or by foresight, Tara's thigh between Willow's legs had moved back just a fraction, which Willow was grateful for, otherwise things would have gotten out of hand. As it was, Willow felt gloriously, deliriously alive as Tara moved against her, rubbing the warmth of her sex on Willow's skin through the inconsequential barrier that separated them, spreading her juices on Willow's thigh. Willow leaned in to whisper in Tara's ear.

"When I came," she breathed, her voice steady as a rock and purring with desire, "when I buried my face in the pillow to keep from screaming, it was your name on my lips. When I felt my sex squeeze my finger and get so wet, I was thinking of you."

Tara froze, her mouth open but not a sound issuing from her, even her breathing stilling for a second. Willow felt an incredible tension in the body pressed against her, then a deep shudder ran through Tara, her arms and legs trembling, her body shaking, all the air in her lungs coming out in a long, exhaustive sigh. She buried her face in Willow's neck, in her hair, and her whole body relaxed completely, as if she was in a deep sleep. Willow held her tightly, feeling the warmth and wetness spread through the fabric against her thigh.

"I love you Willow," Tara murmured, "I love you... I love you... oh Willow..." She took a deep breath, and Willow felt her body coming back to its senses.

"Willow," Tara said gently, "a-are you okay? I-I mean... you don't think I... went too far...?"

"No, baby," Willow assured her, "no, you were... gods, that was amazing! No, I'm absolutely fine with it. I don't... there's nothing to regret, nothing at all."

"I just... what you told me," Tara went on, "it made me so... oh, goddess, you made me so hot..."

"I love you baby," Willow said, "my Tara, my warrior... that was the most beautiful experience of my entire life." Tara's body shuddered again, and Willow felt a different wetness on her skin, as tears slipped from Tara's closed eyes onto her neck.

"It's okay," Tara murmured, "it's okay honey... I'm so happy, I just... I can't hold it in," she laughed.

"I love you," Willow said again, wondering if she would ever get tired of saying it, and deciding no. "Um, you're not... bothered, that I... when I was alone, I mean...?"

"No, gods no," Tara said, "if I hadn't had to go down to the negotiations right away, I would've... I would've brought myself to... to, um, climax..." she admitted shyly. Again, Willow found the quality of innocence to her utterly adorable – Tara, who she had just held in her arms, to whom she had whispered her most private, intimate memories as she orgasmed, was now blushing at saying 'climax'. It was... well, it was uniquely Tara.

"'Cause I wouldn't want you to feel left out," Willow went on cheerfully, making Tara laugh again.

"No," she said, "no, it's good. It's good, Willow," she continued seriously, "it's a good thing. It means we can... explore... a-and not get so worked up over time that we stop thinking properly."

"No," Tara said, "and after the morning, I didn't need to... sitting in meetings has that effect," she grinned. "But I promise, if I do, when you're not there, I'll tell you all about it."

"We should get up," Tara murmured, her ears and stomach perking up at the muffled sounds of breakfast from the common room beyond the thick oak door to the bedroom.

"Do we have to?" asked Willow playfully, as she continued her hobby of the last ten minutes, using her fingertip to 'draw' messages on Tara's belly, hampered slightly by her tendency to use an elaborately decorative script that made it difficult for Tara to work out which letter she was drawing. Tara hadn't complained, though, because it did result in Willow's fingers spending a lot more time stroking her abdomen, occasionally teasing up towards her cleavage for a high vertical stroke, or down to the waistband of her briefs for the low tail on a 'y' or 'g'. Willow suddenly paused in the middle of 'Amazon beauty' and sniffed the air.

"Is that nutbread?" she asked, suddenly alert. "We have to get up." Tara chuckled to herself as Willow scrambled around in bed, trying to sit up. Her laughter stilled as Willow managed it, the blankets sliding down around her waist, and Tara remembered she wasn't wearing a top. She gulped, her mouth going dry, and Willow glanced at her. Tara tried to drag her attention away from Willow's breasts, which she had woken up to find cupped in her hand, and felt pressed against herself as they lay together in bed. Seeing them, though, was new, and to Tara the sight gave a new appreciation for how perfectly formed Willow was. She was just the right size, Tara thought, large enough to have the tantalizing curves of a woman, but small enough that, if Tara wanted, she could encase Willow's breasts in her hands, without needing to splay her fingers too far. 'Just right to hold her,' Tara mused happily, 'squeeze her, tease her, then lean in and kiss...' She had a sudden urge to do just that, but she knew that now wasn't the time. It was quite an effort for Tara to finally meet Willow's gaze.

"I-I d-didn't mean to stare," she whispered, not really concerned that Willow minded too much, but slightly embarrassed by the strength of her own reaction. Willow moved her legs, knelt in front of Tara, and leaned down close to her. She glanced down for a moment at herself, which made Tara look too – her breasts were hanging just a little, changing shape only very slightly as she crouched over Tara, the position of her body enhancing her curves that last little way to Tara's idea of perfection.

"I like the way you look at me," Willow murmured. She leaned down a fraction more, kissing Tara lightly on the lips, then on the forehead, which brought her breasts close to Tara's face.

"So," Willow continued, leaning back, "whenever you want to look at me... I'm yours to look at. Among other things," she added with a sultry smile. She got to her feet and slowly walked across the room, keeping an eye on Tara who watched her all the way. Willow opened the shutters, then crossed the room again – with her back a little more arched than necessary, her arms held a little way behind her, and a seductive sway in her step. 'She's performing,' Tara realized with a thrill, 'she's showing herself to me.' Willow paused in front of Tara's clothes trunk, turning her body this way and that with her hands on her hips, making a show of deciding what to wear, and assuming a determined frown that Tara found cute beyond belief. Finally she picked a mid-length robe, made of modestly thick fabric, and wrapped it around herself, covering herself quite adequately to venture outside without drawing too much attention.

"Oh, Willow," Tara said, suddenly realizing she was still lying under the blankets – had barely moved the whole time. Willow turned, about to open the door. Tara fixed her with a stare and slowly slid her legs out of the bed, then drew back the blankets and stood up. She couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious as she turned, but the way Willow's eyes suddenly widened, and then her eyelids half-closed in an aroused stare, the way her mouth opened on its own and she ran her tongue over her lips without realizing it, made Tara feel truly special. She put a little extra swing in her step as she moved around the end of the bed and walked towards Willow, feeling her breasts sway gently as she did – Willow's eyes were riveted, unblinking, on her chest.

"Wow," Willow breathed as Tara stood in front of her. After a long pause, Willow met Tara's eyes, an expression of something like wonder on her face.

"Sure," Willow said quietly, a contented smile playing over her features. Tara caught Willow's wrist and brought it to her chest, pressing Willow's hand to her cleavage, then lifting it and kissing her open palm.

"I love you," Willow replied. Tara let go of her hand, but instead of going outside, Willow pulled free the sash around her waist, took hold of her robe in both hands, pulled it back over her shoulders to bare her chest, and then enveloped Tara in a crushing hug, kissing her as if she had never tasted her lips before. The suddenness of it took Tara by surprise, and even as her mouth opened instinctively she staggered back a step, ending up with the backs of her thighs against the table in front of the mirror. Tara felt very much aroused by the way Willow was taking the lead in no uncertain terms, and allowed herself to give in completely – her tongue invited Willow's into her mouth, lavishing attention on it, her lips parted wide, letting Willow kiss her as deeply as she wished, and she leaned back a fraction over the table, her hips pressing into Willow's as she did so. Willow had an arm around Tara's waist, gripping her tightly, possessively, and Tara let her hands stroke up and down Willow's sides, letting Willow be the one to do the holding. For a moment, as Willow tilted her head sideways and kissed Tara so deep that she was sure Willow was tasting her soul, her hips and Willow's found their perfect angle, and through two thin layers of silk, Tara felt Willow's sex press against her own.

Tara whimpered into the kiss, her eyes fluttering open and closed. Willow slowed, and gently straightened herself and Tara, finally ending the kiss with a lingering caress of her tongue on the inside of Tara's lips.

"Um, breakfast," Willow said, blushing slightly. Tara nodded, catching her breath. Willow took a deep breath, pulled her robe back around herself, tied her sash, and disappeared through the door with a final radiant smile. Tara remained smiling at the door for a moment, then sat down on the table, one hand idly toying with her nipple.

'Well, if she wants to watch me, um... relieve my tension,' Tara thought, smiling shyly at the thought, 'she may get her wish before long.'

Tara smiled at Willow, still polishing off the last morsels of breakfast. She had finished her own a moment earlier, and had got up from the bed and sat at the table, retrieving a slim leather case from the shelf beneath it.

"Writing a letter," Tara said, opening the case and drawing out a sheet of paper. "We're sending a courier back to Kingsport with reports from Tryptin and the emissaries. It'll go on the next ship heading for the islands. I'm writing to Eponin. She's the mistress of my clan's house, um, sort of like the head of an extended family."

"Clans are groups of families," Tara explained, dipping her pen in the inkpot. "Back in the old days, before the Amazon nation was really a single entity, clans were how we were organized. A family wasn't always big enough to defend itself on its own, but a clan could always band together, and there'd be enough warriors to see off any threat, or enough farmers and woodsmen to feed everyone, if food was scarce, that sort of thing. Our families aren't very big, compared to here – two children is usual, four is seen as quite a lot. Clans are like big families, all the children and adults live close to each other, and share everything."

"That's a political thing," Tara said as she wrote, "the house represents the clan, in government and among the warriors. The mistress of the clan's house – or master, sometimes – is the person the clan chooses to speak for them."

"Sort of," Tara said, "I was taken in by her family when I was very young... um, my parents died, in the Reckoning." Willow was on her feet in an instant, her arms going around Tara from behind, holding her gently.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said quietly, resting her head against Tara's shoulder. Tara half-turned in her chair and gave Willow a smile.

"It's okay," she said soothingly, "I sat memorial for them a long time ago. I was too young to remember them, really. Um, anyway, orphans are always taken in by someone from the clan. There's no such thing as a family of one... we're never really alone. Eponin had to travel a lot when I was young, before she became mistress, so I was raised by her husband, and her eldest daughter. Sothim, and Jenavria. And a lot of the other families were very welcoming, so I was sort of raised by the whole clan, in a way. I was never alone." 'Except when you wouldn't let yourself be otherwise,' she thought. Then she looked into Willow's eyes, and saw the concern there, the intensity of her gaze, her determination to face whatever needed to be faced, so that they would be happy together. 'Not alone anymore,' Tara thought.

Willow gave her a last squeeze before releasing her, then crossed back to the bed and the last bite of breakfast vanished. Tara continued to write, as part of her attention followed Willow around the room, watching her clean up both their plates and leave them on the side table by the door, then smooth down the blankets on the bed. She stopped writing altogether and watched Willow openly as she slipped her robe from her shoulders and dropped it back in the trunk, and retrieved her discarded dress, brushing it down before slowly stepping into it. Tara paid particular attention to the way Willow wriggled the skirt up her thighs, then put down her pen and went to help Willow do up the laces behind it, which she could reach herself, but not entirely comfortably.

"I was thinking," Willow said, holding her arms out of the way as Tara tightened her bodice, "I'll go pack up my stuff from my room and bring it here. I mean, the satchels can just go in the corner, they won't be in the way. And I know we're only here for a couple more days, but... I'd like this to be my room, you know? If that's okay?"

"Depends how excited you want me," Willow quipped. "That's fine for now. Maybe some other time," she added in a seductive purr, "you can lace me up nice and tight."

"Maybe I will," Tara murmured in her ear. Willow turned and kissed her, letting her tongue play just a little before she sat on the bed to pull her boots on.

"I might be out when you get back," Tara said, "As soon as I finish this I'm going to have a wash, then meet the ambassadors on the Duncraig caravan. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but it shouldn't be too long."

"That's okay," Willow replied, "I'll just stay here and think of you. Work up an appetite for lunch." She licked her lips, blew a kiss to Tara, then practically skipped out of the door, leaving Tara grinning all over her face.

'She's insatiable,' Tara thought to herself, returning to her writing. 'Good thing you can't get enough of her either. Appetite for lunch, indeed.' She finished her letter, re-reading it just to make sure she had said exactly what she wanted to. She hoped a reply might reach them at Duncraig – it might take only three weeks or so, if she was lucky. Wishing for luck, she folded the letter, noticing she had accidentally pulled two pages at once from her writing case. An idea occurred to her, and she opened the case and chose a good pencil, then shrugged off the robe she had put on for breakfast and went and sat on the bed, pencil and paper in hand, glancing up at the mirror.

Willow got back to their room twenty minutes later, dumping her book satchels in the corner as promised and walking over to the table, sitting in Tara's chair. She noticed a folded piece of paper on the table, and wondered if Tara had forgotten her letter, but then she noticed something written on it, on the outside of the fold. She picked it up and read it:

With a grin she unfolded the paper, then nearly dropped it. Her eyes widened, and her legs suddenly felt weak. She unconsciously licked her lips as she studied the drawing on the page. It showed only Tara, no background, though Willow guessed she had been sitting on the bed, drawing herself from the mirror. She was naked, completely naked, not even a single line across her hips to show her briefs, and Willow was sure that wasn't artistic license. She imagined Tara posing as she had drawn herself – one arm delicately cradling her breasts, half-covering them, her hand holding her right breast firmly, the nipple of her left peeking out above the crook of her elbow; her right leg stretched out along the edge of the bed, with her other hand resting on top of it, her fingers touching her inner thigh; her left leg down, off the end of the bed, giving a perfect view as she sat side-on of the seductive curve of her waist, hip and thigh; and just visible between her legs, a couple of short strokes of a pencil, just the hint of curls of hair, tantalizing Willow's imagination.

Willow stared at the drawing for a long time, feeling her heart race, trying to memorize every detail. Her free hand started to sneak towards the slit in her skirt, but she stopped herself. 'No, not yet,' she told herself. She was pleased that she and Tara had reached an understanding about relieving their tensions, but for the moment she wanted to feel the fluttering in her stomach, and the warmth lower down, to tease herself, and wait. She folded the paper back up, and carefully placed it in the center of the journal she had started with Tara, promising herself that she would keep it close always.

Tara was already smiling as she pushed open the bedroom door with her elbow, both hands being full of plates, but her smile widened when she saw Willow sitting on the ledge beneath the window, wrapped in her exquisite green battlegear. Willow looked up and smiled in return, uncrossing her legs and standing in one fluid motion.

"The dining hall's full of ambassadors," she said, "I thought you might prefer a quiet lunch up here. They're a bit..." she made a face.

"They're not so bad, I suppose," Tara allowed, "just... oh, I don't know, I guess they're used to being treated like they're at the top of the society pile. They kind of... look down on everything. They hide it well—I mean, they're diplomats—but you just get the idea that this place is sort of... rustic? Something like that." She and Willow sat facing each other on the bed, plates balanced on their knees.

"Don't tell anyone," Tara said with a grin, "but I think they think he's my servant or something. No, he's fine—I think he's going to have a great time dealing with them."

"He told me—quietly -" Tara added, "that the best thing that can happen in a negotiation is for the other person to be sure he's smarter than you." Willow chuckled.

"So by the time we get to Duncraig, will he have gotten them to hand the Dukedom over to him?"

"Maybe," Tara said with a straight face, "that wouldn't be so bad. We've always been against establishing any real settlements on the mainland, but gaining the largest city in Westmarch... they'd probably consider this a successful mission back home. For his first time, of course." Willow laughed out loud, which Tara found delightful. "Of course, it's a ground city, so we'd have to do something about that," she went on. "Plant trees under all the houses, perhaps. Or get some of those cranes from the river dock and lift the city up, then transplant a forest in underneath it and drop it on top..." Willow moved her plate to the bed so she wouldn't tip it over as she laughed.

"Ah," she sighed, catching her breath. "I wonder what they'll think of me... some strange sorceress girl from the wild jungles of Kehjistan, I bet."

"If you're wearing that," Tara observed with an appreciative grin, "you'll probably get a few proposals out of them."

"Well, too bad," Willow said defiantly, "I'm not wearing it for them. I'm wearing it for you."

"It's for the contest this afternoon," Willow said, smiling her thanks, "I promised I'd be your 'beautiful lady', remember?"

"And speaking of beautiful," Willow continued, "I, um, I loved your... self-portrait." Tara blushed, and smiled shyly at her.

"I hoped you would," she said softly. Willow patted a deep, thin pouch on her belt by her hip.

"I'm glad," Tara said. She glanced at Willow's belt. "Is that the same belt you had in the library? I don't remember it having that pouch."

"It's standard equipment for a sorceress," Willow explained, "when you undo it, the pouches can slide on and off, depending on what you need to carry. So, potions," she touched a row of tiny padded cylinders to the left of the silver buckle, "spell components," various small pouches of varying sizes to the right, "pen and paper," a cylinder on her left hip, "scrolls," behind the paper, "charms and runestones," around the back of her waist, "and our journal," she finished, tapping the new pouch on her right hip. "You remembered what my belt looked like?" she added, arching an eyebrow.

"It was close to eye level when you were up on the ladder," Tara replied casually, "I saw in on my w-way to other things. So, what do all those do?"

"Well, the spell components are to help out with complicated or powerful spells," Willow said, "in my case, they're things that help channel cold energy. I've got ice crystals from Mount Arreat, they never melt unless you actually put them in a fire, which releases their energy. A bone shard from a phantom, the Order collects them whenever they have to dispel one—the plane they come from doesn't have heat, so their remains are useful for cold spells. Dried dewflowers, they only grow in freezing temperatures, instead of sunlight they draw in cold and turn it into energy. A couple of powders and liquids, they're pretty generic, all sorceresses can use them, for whatever kind of spell they need. The charms and just to help control and amplify magical power, they're all fashioned specifically for cold. The runestones are similar to the ones we saw before, you arrange them in patterns to create what we call spell frameworks, I guess they're kind of like the way you create a focus, with Amazon magic. They sort of make a 'shape', like a mould, for magical power, it makes it easier to do complicated spells. Um, the scrolls are simple things like detecting magic, creating light—they're not elemental magic, but all the power comes from the scroll itself, not from the person using them, so they're not dangerous to use. There's a limit to how powerful a written spell can be, though, so it only works with simple spells. The potions are the same, they're magical, but you don't need to use magic to use them—they're for healing, and replenishing magical power if I need to cast a lot of spells in a hurry. And... I'm just going on and on, aren't I?"

"It's fascinating," said Tara. "We use some things like those charms. They're not as common, most of them are passed down in families... It sounds like they might be similar. And our weapons can be crafted to help in creating a focus. Um, y-you can have a look, if you like," she offered.

"Thanks," Willow said. "I noticed that first day, your spear has electrum in it."

"It's not really mine," Tara said, "it's Solari's, it's been in her family for generations. Th-there aren't many like it, it's supposed to be attuned to Zerae. Its ritual name is 'storm-caller'. A lot of old weapons have more than one name," she explained, "depending on how they're used. The ritual name is for weapons that can be used in ceremonies to honor the goddesses they're made for. Outside ceremonies, it's 'Silverstrike'."

"Storm-caller," repeated Willow, "I can guess why. Zerae gives you lightning energy, right?" Tara nodded. "Electrum is used to make equipment for lightning sorceresses, too. It's very powerful, and difficult to enchant without contaminating it. Your spear has pure electrum all through it—it's like a magic staff, sort of. And the patterns it's shaped into are probably along the same lines as runes, like a permanent spell built-in."

"Oh," said Tara, surprised—she knew Silverstrike was a noted artifact among her people, but she had to admit she thought it was more of a cultural respect. "Does your staff have things like that crafted into it?" she asked.

"Most sorceresses have staves made for them," Willow said, "hardened ash-wood mixed with sandstone powder for fire, obsidian and night-oil resin for lightning, Arreat ice for cold. Ember gave me my staff, though." She shrugged. "We don't rely on staves anyway, a lot of our training is done without them. She asked me to take this staff, rather than an ice one, so I did. She didn't say why, just that it was a good choice."

"Volcanic rock and black iron," Willow said with another shrug. "It's covered by the wood, but there are spells you can do to find out what something's made of. It's a pretty good staff, it helps control energy. A normal ice staff would be more likely to amplify power, and sometimes it'd get a bit out of hand and you'd have to just flare off the power—in the case of cold magic, it's easy, you just spread the cold out through the air around you, really thin so all it does is drop the temperature a little. Lightning can be flared into passive effects—they say if you're good you can channel the flare back into something like an energy shield, that's kind of like chill armor, but for lightning. Fire takes a lot of practice, it's a bit dangerous really. Ember once said the best thing you can do if you need to flare off fire energy is to point your staff into the air and wait for the jet of flame to die down."

"Yeah, I know," Willow agreed, "fire sorceresses spend a lot of time practicing control, so they don't accidentally call up more power than they need for a particular spell. Us cold girls have it easy," she admitted with a grin, "we just wear something warm if we're practicing a new spell. I've never had to flare, using this staff, though. It's like all the power it doesn't have in amplifying cold, it has in controlling energy—even fire and lightning. We practice with powers other than our chosen elements," she explained, "just enough to do simple effects if we really need to, and to interfere with anyone casting against us using those powers. If you know fire magic, it's possible to undo a fire spell even if someone else is casting it. Same with lightning—they used to get us to pair off, and have one of us cast a spell, just into the air, and the other one try to undo the spell. Whoever made this staff must have had that in mind, it's brilliant at shutting down magic. Some of the other girl called it 'spell breaker'."

"Yeah, it is," Willow agreed. "Just my luck the only thing that's ever attacked me wasn't using spells." She gave Tara a smile, just to reassure her that she wasn't dwelling on those events.

"It'd be beautiful on anyone," Tara said, "on you, i-it's divine." She put her own plate aside and moved over to sit next to Willow, who she was pleased to see was blushing at the compliment.

"See," she went on, touching the fabric wrapped around Willow's arm, "it matches your eyes... and even where y-you're covered up, I can still see the shape of you. Arms," she trailed her finger to Willow's wrist, then skipped to her hip nearby, "and legs... perfectly curved." She slid her finger in one of the folds in Willow's skirt and followed it up, meeting her belt just as she got close to the center of her waist.

"I'll have to wear it more often," Willow whispered with a grin. "I always felt kind of shy wearing it... you know, the lack of anything in the middle..."

"No, no," Tara murmured, gently taking hold of Willow's shoulders and laying her down, "that's the best part. All this lovely Willow," she slowly ran her fingers up and down Willow's stomach, from her waist to the edge of her top, just between the bottom of her breasts, and back down again.

"Oh yes," Tara said in a hushed voice, "I like. You have a truly beautiful belly." She chuckled. "That sounds strange. But it's true." She leaned down and lay her head gently on Willow's stomach, feeling the warm body beneath her, and the soft motion as Willow breathed in and out. "Mmm," she moaned, "I could stay here forever..."

"I could get you a pillow if you liked," Willow teased, her hand stroking Tara's hand.

"But I can't do this with a pillow," Tara said, turning her head and kissing Willow's navel. She felt Willow shiver beneath her, and she adjusted her position without taking her lips from Willow's skin. With her arms around Willow's waist, holding her tightly, she poked her tongue into Willow's navel and pushed gently, wriggling her tongue around.

"Oh!" Willow exclaimed. Tara continued her kiss, feeling Willow's breathing speed up, then lifted her head up with a final lick at Willow's abdomen and grinned up at her.

"Have I mentioned," Willow said, in a slightly awe-struck voice, "that you turn me on like nothing in the world?" Tara wriggled up to lie beside Willow, feeling shy and proud at the same time.

"I-I might have got that impression," she admitted. Willow rolled over half on top of her and kissed her, starting on her lips, making her way up to Tara's ear which she gently nibbled and sucked, then down beneath her jaw and back up to her lips. By the time Willow's tongue made contact with hers, Tara had closed her eyes and was moaning quietly. Willow drew out the kiss for a long time, alternately driving deep into Tara's mouth, and surrendering completely, letting Tara take full possession of hers, before finally she lay back beside her.

"The very next time I see your lovely naked stomach," Willow promised, "I am going to show you exactly how wonderful that feels."

"Absolutely," Willow said, holding Tara tightly around the waist as they rode down towards Maresburg. Stefan was a few lengths ahead of them, leading the way along a road that ran down from the castle's hill to the farmlands below, away to the west of the forests Tara had already seen. Two of the Baron's guards followed at a respectable distance—their presence was more a courtesy than a precaution, the Baron having assured Tryptin that Maresburg, of all the towns in the surrounding lands, was among the most law-abiding.

"Hey now," Willow protested, "let's not get ambitious! This is just fine the way it is." Tara smiled to herself and kept Kestrel at a quick walk, following the pace Stefan was setting. The old archer was quite at home, exchanging waves and greetings with the people they passed on the road, driving wagons and carts up towards the castle, or out on foot on their way somewhere.

"Yes, it certainly is," Tara said to herself, keeping the reins in one hand while her other discreetly stroked Willow's arms around her waist. She felt very relaxed, more than she would have expected of herself, given the slight flutter of nerves she had experienced when they were standing in the courtyard, and a stablehand had walked Kestrel over to her. Last time she had set out like this, she had ended up catching a crossbow bolt a couple of inches from her head. But she had calmed herself, taking reassurance from the knowledge that her attacker, and the man who had instructed him, were both locked away behind several feet of solid stone and steel bars.

It seemed no time at all until they were riding through the outskirts of Maresburg, which consisted mainly of a crossroads, widened into a town square, with wooden buildings clustered around it, growing outwards west, north and south, and backed up against the beginning of the castle's hill to the east. The closer they got to the center of town, the more impressive the buildings were—on one corner of the square was a large two-storey building, which Tara took for a town hall from the elaborate carved wood coat of arms above its doors. Stefan led them over to stables opposite the hall, and they left their horses there to continue on foot. The town's population was already out in force, gathered around a the of outdoor taverns near the town well, obviously awaiting the beginning of the contest. Some of them gave a cheer or lifted their mugs at the sight of Stefan, and a number began drifting across the square and along one of the roads. Tara and Willow followed Stefan, with their guards a few paces to either side. Tara noticed the Baron's master at arms in the crowd, in the middle of a conversation with someone, and she wondered if he was there for fun or to keep an eye on things. Either way, she felt safe—the man always seemed perpetually aware of everything around him every time she had seen him.

Beyond a few storehouses and shops the ground to the west of the road opened up in a grassy expanse, with wooden stands on two sides, and a number of benches and tables already in place, occupied by the early arrivals who were enjoying the end of lunch, cheering or making loud suggestions to the archers who were already at practice, firing at targets set up on the far side of the field. One of the stands was larger and taller than the others, with a brightly-colored shade cloth stretched between the tops of poles at its corners, and a number of well-dressed townsfolk seated inside. Stefan exchanged greetings with a few of the spectators and archers who wandered over to meet him, then motioned for Willow and Tara to follow him over to the covered stand.

"My wife," he said proudly, introducing them to a tall woman about his age who smiled at the sight of him and got down from her seat. She was dressed in a simple but well-made dress that showed off an admirable figure, and her white hair was tied back in a single braid that trailed to her waist.

"Tara, an Amazon warrior," Stefan said to her, "and Willow, a sorceress. Ladies, Bethany, my wife."

"Very well, thank you," Tara said, bowing. Willow tried a curtsey, and found it wasn't that difficult.

"We've all been looking forward to seeing your skill with the bow," Bethany went on to Tara, after raising an eyebrow at Willow's battlegear. "Our daughter is around here somewhere," she added, glancing around the crowd. A horn sounded from the field, and the archers ceased fire and went to retrieve their arrows.

"I'll introduce you all afterwards," Stefan promised, "it's time for our contest. Miss Willow, would you care for a seat? Normally I'd just be a spectator myself, I see they've saved me a seat as usual."

"Thank you," Willow said, stepping up onto the platform beside Bethany, who was still a full head taller than her. Stefan bowed elaborately to his wife, and she smiled and drew a lace handkerchief from her sleeve, which he took and tucked into his belt.

"Thank you, my lady," he said with obvious affection. While Bethany was smiling at him, Willow turned to Tara.

"My warrior?" she said with a grin. As soon as Tara's eyes were on her, she quickly reached up beneath the hem of her top and drew out a silk cloth, thankful she had thought of it earlier, and been able to stuff it into her cleavage in one of the brief moments Tara hadn't been watching her.

"My lady," Tara said, accepting the silk, and touching it to her lips before tucking a corner of it in her belt. Willow smiled and sat down next to Bethany, as Tara and Stefan headed towards the firing line.

"My word," Bethany said, "we don't see many mages around here. Well, apart from that dreadful man up at the castle. I never liked him. Related to an old family, you know, supposedly a noble line, but if you want my opinion, there's not much to recommend them nowadays. And Miss Tara, the Amazon, you're traveling together?"

"Yes," Willow said, "we met in Kingsport, and we're on the caravan heading to Duncraig."

"Well, that's quite a journey," Bethany said, "and you know, we hear such things about Duncraig, it should be quite the experience for you. But I imagine you'll be enjoying the journey as it is. You and she... I'm not sure how to put this, you're close?"

"She looks at you very fondly," Bethany said. She and Willow shared a smile, then Bethany was distracted at the arrival of the rest of her family, and spent a moment introducing them to Willow: their daughter Erin, a tall, raven-haired woman very much in the mould of her mother, her husband Rudi, an amiable man with a charming smile. In her arms Erin held a baby, her and Rudi's son Werner. Rudi was full of enthusiasm at seeing an Amazon archer—her skill, not the archer herself, Willow gathered—and Erin listened to his ramblings with affectionate indulgence while she loosened the laces of her bodice enough to feed their baby. Willow was slightly surprised at that, but no-one seemed to pay her the least attention, except for Rudi himself whose eyes occasionally dipped downwards. Bethany passed the time asking Willow about her battlegear, wondering if it would be possible to buy something of the sort in Kingsport. After a few minutes another horn sounded, and the crowd settled back to watch the contest.

One of the townsfolk, chosen for his loud voice, Willow guessed, informed the crowd that they were to witness a contest of archery between Stefan, noted citizen of Kingsport and master of archers at the Baron's court, and Tara, a warrioress of the fabled Amazons. While he spoke, going into some detail about Stefan's accomplishments for the benefit of those who didn't know him, and reciting a few exciting tales about Amazons—Willow could just make out Tara's amused, resigned expression, but the speaker confined himself to various tales of dubious accuracy about the Amazons' prowess in battle—a team of men busied themselves dragging an elaborate wooden contraption out into the middle of the line of targets. It consisted of a pedestal framework, inside which were various wooden gears connected by heavy, knotted ropes to a pulley system that vanished behind a sturdy wooden shield several meters long. Once this was in place the men retreated behind the shield, safe from stray arrows. From where she was sitting, Willow could just make out one of them, holding the end of the rope. Another man carried a target up to the pedestal, fixing it in place before retreating.

The horn player sounded the beginning of the contest once the participants had been introduced, and at a yell from behind the shield wall the men began to pull on the rope, turning it in a loop that ran through the pedestal. The target began to pivot, as Stefan nocked his arrow and stared levelly down the field at it. Willow found herself quite caught up in the moment, her stare fixed on Stefan's arrowhead as he slowly raised his bow and drew it back. He waited a moment, taking his time as he stared down the length of his arrow at the target, turning away from him and back again. There was a collective intake of breath as he let fly, and then the men pulling the rope stopped, a horn sounded to ensure neither archer fired, and someone scurried out from behind the shield to check the arrow embedded in the target.

"A half!" Willow heard him call, repeated by the loud-voiced announcer to general applause. "Half and straight!" The crowd cheered, Willow joining in the polite but enthusiastic applause from the stands.

"Very close to the bullseye," Bethany explained for Willow, "and it went in while the target was facing dead ahead. It's a pity your Amazon friend hasn't had a chance to practice on the machine, Stefan says it's a difficult thing to master."

The men at the target pulled out Stefan's arrow and took cover as the others began to pull their rope again, spinning the target slowly. Willow stared at Tara, noting every detail of her posture, the intensity of her concentration, as she nocked her arrow and drew back her bow. She aimed slowly, letting the arrowhead drift up and around to point at the target, and for a moment she was absolutely still. Willow had to admit, she was actually a little aroused, as well as simply impressed, by the image of Tara standing straight, her feet apart a little way, her shapely legs braced, her arms motionless as she held back the string of her powerful bow, by necessity a little further from her body than Stefan had. She had leaned her head sideways, her cheek touching her wrist as she sighted along her arrow. There was just the tiniest movement, her fingers releasing the string, and as Willow kept her eyes on Tara, she saw that she barely moved a muscle for a moment after she fired.

"Center and one degree!" came the call from the other end of the field. A surprised cheer went up from the crowd, and Willow was sure she saw Tara catch a glimpse of her as she shot out of her seat, clapping her hands above her head.

"Bullseye," Bethany said with some admiration, "and very close to straight. I'd say they're even so far. Your friend is very good." There was some activity around the pedestal involving pieces of wood being set in place, and when everyone retreated the target was in the center of a six-foot-wide cylinder of wooden slats, with gaps in it at the same height as the center of the target. When the horn sounded and the men began pulling the rope again, both the target and its guard began to turn, in opposite directions so that the target and the gaps in the cylinder lined up perfectly only every few turns.

Tara went first this time, standing exactly as she had before. Again Willow watched her, ignoring the rest of the crowd, and not really paying very much attention to the target either. She smiled to herself at the strength and the poise in Tara's body, the perfection of her stance and her concentration. She indulged a little fantasy about standing right behind Tara as she drew back her bow, pressing her body against her and feeling the coiled, controlled strength in her. Willow was snapped out of it as Tara fired, and the crowd cheered at once, seeing that her arrow had not hit the guard, but had gone through to the target.

"Center!" the man called, to renewed cheering. Stefan nodded to Tara as he passed her on his way to the line, as one professional admiring another, then the horn sounded and the cheering died down to murmurs. Stefan took his time firing, waiting almost a full minute before letting his arrow fly, but it was evidently worth it, as the call "Center!" came back.

"He's in fine form," Bethany observed, "he always has a good day when he makes that one." The announcer called the last round, and when the horn sounded an upright post had been added to the field, thirty feet in front of the target. It was a little taller than the bullseye itself, and its top was a torch that had been lit.

"Those wraps around the arrows are soaked in oil," Bethany explained, as they watched both Stefan and Tara hand one of their arrows to a man who carefully bound rags around them, just behind the arrowheads. "They have to pass through the torch, catch fire, and hit the target. I've seen arrows go through without lighting, but Stefan says the trick is in drawing the bow. Having the post there means the arrow has to be at exactly that height when it passes, so the archer has to fire at just the right speed to flatten the curve out over the post and into the target. Spend thirty-five years married to an archer," she added with a grin, "and you pick up a few things."

Stefan was first, but he didn't wait as long as he did for his previous shot. He drew, aimed and fired with barely a pause—"Cocky rascal," Bethany observed affectionately—the torch flared as the arrow passed it, and then, with its tip alight, it was shuddering in the center of the target. The call confirmed that the shot had been a bullseye, and even the higher-class spectators in the stands were on their feet applauding. Tara looked quite impressed, but Willow smiled at her when she glanced towards the main stand.

Tara took her place, and was just drawing back her bow when the horn sounded, signaling not to fire. Willow glanced along the length of the field, and saw that the torch had gone out, Stefan's arrow having scattered the cinders at its top somewhat, and the wind, gusting irregularly across the field, had done the rest. A man was scurrying out from behind the shield wall with a lit torch.

"Stand clear!" Willow heard Tara call out. The horn player looked confused for a moment, then blew the signal. The man with the torch frowned, looked down the field for clarification, then shrugged and retreated. Once he was safely out of the line of fire Tara chose another arrow, with no cloth around it, and took aim again.

Willow had a vague idea what she had in mind, but the rest of the crowd were taken completely by surprise as Tara's arrow burst into a streak of flame the moment it left her bow. There was a flare as it passed the top of the post, setting fire to it, and then it was through the guard and embedded in the target, still burning. The scorer quickly doused the flame and checked the arrow's position.

The crowd went wild, even Bethany standing to applaud. Stefan escorted Tara back to the stands, smiling as they were stopped every couple of steps as various spectators bowed and congratulated Tara. Someone even produced a handful of roses, very prettily bound in a white cloth, which Tara accepted graciously, looking slightly shy as she did so. Bethany, Willow, Erin and Rudi got down from the stand to meet the pair as they cleared the crowd.

"My lady," Stefan said, "I'm sorry I couldn't win for you today." He said it with a smile, but also honest regret. Bethany curtseyed to Tara before fixing her gaze on her husband.

"Come here, you," she said, smiling. They shared a kiss, provoking another cheer from some of the spectators nearby. Tara finished thanking Erin and Rudi, who congratulated her as well, and turned to Willow.

"My warrior," Willow said, taking them. She and Tara stood there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, until Bethany leaned over to Willow.

"Oh go on, girl," she said, "no-one minds." Willow smiled, Tara blushed, and they kissed for a moment, slowly and tenderly, though with their lips closed, in deference to being in public.

"What did you think of Amazon magic?" Tara asked, as she and Willow ate dinner in the common room. Some of the other Amazons were also at the long table, engrossed in conversations of their own, though Tryptin and his personal staff were dining with the Duncraig ambassadors.

"I'm impressed," Willow said earnestly, "you know, I didn't feel a thing?" Tara looked confused. "I don't mean I didn't feel anything to watch you," Willow corrected herself hastily, "I mean... normally a fire spell like that would give off, um, 'echoes' that any mage within a hundred feet would be able to feel. The better the mage, the more controlled the spell, so the less wasted energy there is."

"Well, I wasn't actually doing the magic," Tara admitted, "that was Hefaetrus. So maybe that's why you didn't sense it?"

"It's still impressive," Willow insisted, "you know, I think your magic might be the most controlled I've ever seen. I guess maybe because you concentrate entirely on the focus, on the shape of the spell, where a sorceress has to form the spell and power it at the same time. It's a bit of a juggling act," she added with a grin. "When you were training, was it unusual for spells to get a bit out of hand? Like, the fire being too strong, or things like that?"

"I-I don't think so," Tara said, "I never heard of anything like that happening with magic. It's usually just a case of doing it right or not. If you do it, it works, if not... well, you just fire a normal arrow, and nothing happens."

"Well, it's not always controlled," Tara admitted, "I remember once when some of the trainees were practicing with explosive fire, they accidentally set one of the storehouses on fire. Their aim was a bit wild." Willow chuckled at the thought.

"No," Tara said, "I was always very... I'd be very careful when I was practicing. And mostly I liked practicing just the basic skills, aiming and speed and concentration. I kind of had a knack for picking up the focusing quickly, so I didn't have to spend a lot of time working on that. Just the physical elements of it."

"Speaking of physical elements," Willow murmured quietly, "you know you looked very sexy out there today." Tara raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Oh yeah!" Willow insisted. "all... disciplined, and controlled, and sleek and strong... the way your arms were so still when you were holding your bowstring back. That must take some strength?"

"Um, yeah," Tara said with a shy grin, "it's a strong bow, it takes a bit of getting used to... there's a few others in our baggage, lighter bows, I was thinking of getting one of those out for you to use, when I show you how..." Willow pushed her plate aside and leaned towards Tara.

"I can't wait," she said in a quiet, sultry voice. "So, how will you do it? Demonstrate first? I know, I'll stand right behind you while you draw the string, and I'll lean against you, and reach around your shoulders and feel your arms, all the tension running through your muscles... so I know how to hold the bow, of course."

"Of course," Tara said with a wry grin. She got up and held out a hand to Willow, who gladly took it and followed her to their room.

"And then it'll be my turn," Willow went on, once Tara had shut the door behind them. She mimed holding a bow, as she had seen Tara do it, left arm outstretched, right bent back, her cheek resting against her hand.

"Mmm-hmm," Willow said, "and you can stand right behind me... like that," she added, as Tara obligingly stood so close her chest was pressed firmly into Willow's back. "And make sure I'm holding it just right," Willow went on. Tara put her arms around Willow, holding each of her wrists in position. She adjusted her stance so that her feet were beside Willow's, and their legs were touching all the way down to the floor.

"And then," she breathed into Willow's ear, "you let go." Willow opened the fingers of her right hand obediently.

"You know," she said, "I think what most impressed me was how focused you were out there today. I bet nothing was distracting you."

"So maybe I should practice that?" Willow asked. "If I can keep hold of my bow, while you try to distract me..." she left a deliberate, suggestive pause there, "then we'll know I'm ready." Tara chuckled to herself, and the sound made Willow shiver in anticipation.

"You mean, distract you like this?" Tara asked innocently, before placing a quick kiss on the side of Willow's neck. Willow smiled, but didn't move. Tara ran the tip of her tongue up to the side of Willow's jaw, then kissed her earlobe.

"Very good," she said, as Willow trembled but held her imaginary bow in an almost-steady grip. She sucked on Willow's earlobe for a long time, tickling it with her tongue. Willow moaned quietly, a long, pure note emanating from her throat, ending only when Tara finished.

"Let's see how good you really are," Tara whispered. "An Amazon can hit a target she's not even watching. Look this way." Willow obediently turned her face towards Tara, away from the line of fire of her bow. Tara kissed her, starting with a quick, feather-light touch on her lips, then again, longer this time, then her lips opened, as did Willow's, and their tongues played. The sensations almost caused Willow to give in and drop her arms, but she held out, even when Tara let out a deep moan which thrilled Willow to her core.

Willow guessed what was coming next, and barely flinched when she felt Tara's hands on her bare sides, stroking lightly up and down. She knew Tara could get her in an instant by tickling her, but apparently that wasn't what Tara had in mind, for she kept the pressure of her fingertips just enough to avoid causing an involuntary reaction. Her fingers ventured around Willow's body, over her stomach, back and forth, moving slowly higher with each pass. She moaned, louder than she had been meaning to, when Tara's fingers found the edge of her top and snuck underneath.

"Oh gods please yes!" she exclaimed, reaching behind herself to hold Tara tightly against her as Tara's hands pushed under the fabric of her clothing and cupped her breasts. Tara held her firmly, squeezing gently, rhythmically, massaging Willow's breasts as she felt her nipples harden in her palms.

"You dropped your bow," she murmured, separating her lips just a fraction from Willow's.

"Then I need... more practice," Willow said hoarsely, arching her back to push herself into Tara's hands, and grind her hips against Tara's. "Later," Willow amended, "for now... why don't you... keep distracting me..."

Tara smiled and captured Willow's lips again, marveling at her breasts. 'I was right,' she thought gleefully, 'just the right size.' She rubbed her palms around in circular motions, stimulating Willow's nipples as she gently squeezed and released with her fingers. The way Willow was moving against her was intoxicating. Emboldened by Willow's response to her, Tara tightened her hold and kneaded Willow's breasts firmly, pushing them together each time she squeezed. Willow's lips fell completely open beneath her kiss, and her legs began to tremble seriously.

"I won't let you fall," Tara promised. Willow surrendered herself to Tara's arms, reaching down with her own hands to grip Tara's bottom through her leather skirt. Tara thrilled at the feeling, devouring Willow's mouth.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow moaned, as Tara took a break to plant kisses along her neck, "it's too much..."

Tara's hands instantly stilled, though she didn't withdraw them. She wouldn't allow herself to even hint to Willow that she might ignore anything she said, but at the same time she suspected that if she broke off contact completely Willow would feel somehow guilty, as if she had been wrong to say anything, and she never wanted Willow to think that.

"No... I don't know," Willow admitted, "gods, I don't want you to stop... but you're making me so hot..."

"I love you Willow," Tara said, "if you want to stop now, I promise I'll go to sleep next to you the happiest woman in the world. Nothing can change that."

"Oh gods I love you," Willow said, "you're the most perfect lover... I don't want to stop, I just... if you keep touching me like that, I'm going to have to... you're making me so hot I need to, um... a-and I know you're not ready for that, not yet, I mean, I'm not ready for it either..."

"Y-you could, um, t-touch yourself," Tara suggested quietly. "Like y-you told me this morning... and I'll keep touching you, and hold you while you... while you come..." Willow took a deep breath, trying to contain herself.

"I'm sure," Tara insisted, "I... when you held me this morning, I've never felt so loved, so much a, a part of you. I-I want you to feel that too..."

"Please," Tara said. Willow closed her eyes and kissed Tara so deeply that she felt her legs buckle, and sat down heavily on the bed behind her, with Willow still in her arms. If Willow noticed, she didn't mind, she just continued to kiss Tara voraciously. Tara resumed her attention to Willow's breasts, starting slowly but quickly building to the pace she had been setting before. Willow, sitting in her lap, writhed in her embrace, her hips rocking and jolting as she moved. Tara felt Willow's hands leave her bottom, where they had nearly been pinned in place as she sat down, and opened an eye to see Willow reaching for the clasp on the slim silver collar around her neck. She undid it and let it fall to the ground, her hands grasping at the fabric around her chest and pulling it aside, baring herself to Tara's ministrations.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow moaned, "oh gods, that is so good, you're making me so hot, please don't stop, please, oh gods, Tara, gods..." She captured Tara's lips again, her tongue venturing into Tara's mouth just long enough to ensure a response before completely surrendering, giving herself over to Tara completely. At the same time her left hand was covering Tara's, pressing it hard into her breast, while her right fumbled with the catch on her belt. She managed to undo it, pushing the top of her skirt down to reveal her underwear.

"Come for me, baby," Tara breathed. Willow's fingers crept beneath the waistband of her briefs, stretching it out to make room for her hand.

"Yesss..." she sighed as her hand clamped down between her legs. Tara watched, eyes downcast as she kept kissing Willow, seeing the movements of her wrist, feeling her hips rock in time to them. She concentrated on her own hands, steadily increasing the tempo of her intense massage of Willow's breasts. She could actually smell the scent of Willow's arousal, and it excited her like nothing else, driving her to pour all her passion into the woman in her arms, kissing her, caressing her, arousing her, and holding her as she drew closer to release, letting out little high-pitched moans into Tara's mouth with every thrust of her fingers.

Willow orgasmed with a deep, lusty groan, almost a growl, her lips pressed against Tara's, her hips bucking so hard she actually rose up off Tara's lap for a second. Tara leaned back, carrying Willow with her as she lay on the bed, finishing up with Willow sprawled on top of her, breathing in short gasps as she held Tara's hand firmly to her chest, her legs splayed apart off the edge of the bed, the sleeves of her top down around her elbows.

"Oh gods Tara," she gasped, "not much longer, I promise... oh I need you so much..."

"I know baby," Tara assured her, "not much longer." Willow took a deep breath, her body totally relaxed.

"I'm not squashing you, am I?" she asked after a moment. Tara laughed, making Willow giggle as the movement in Tara's chest bounced her up and down slightly.

"Mmm, you feel pretty good yourself," Willow replied, "even if you are still wearing way too much."

"I'd get undressed," Tara countered, "except there's a delicious sorceress lying on top of me."

"Delicious, huh?" Willow teased. "Am I in danger of being eaten?" Tara felt the blush on Willow's cheek as she realized what she had said, but only chuckled. Feeling bold and light-headed, she reached down with the hand that wasn't underneath Willow's and took hold of her other wrist. Slowly, giving Willow every opportunity to pull back, she pulled Willow's hand out from underneath her underwear and raised it to her lips. Willow was staring at her in amazement, but gave no indication that she wanted Tara to stop. Tara opened her lips and reached out with her tongue, touching it to the tip of Willow's forefinger. Then she gently moved Willow's hand closer and took her fore and index fingers into her mouth, her eyes fixed on Willow all the while.

Willow's taste was something Tara could never have been prepared for, like nothing she had ever experienced before. For a fraction of a second it was strange to her, then pleasure washed over her and she was sucking and licking Willow's fingers as if her life depended on it, intent on savoring every last succulent drop of Willow's arousal. When she was finally satisfied that she had cleaned Willow's fingers completely she let them go, gently maneuvering Willow's hand so that she could chase down every trace of her juice that had made its way onto her palm and her other fingers. She held Willow's stare the entire time, not blinking once.

When she finally let Willow's little finger slide out from between her lips, Willow eyes were as wide as she had ever seen, and her mouth was hanging open. Tara hoped she hadn't shocked Willow—well, not in a bad way—but Willow had never given even the slightest resistance. Now she stared at Tara as if she was something supernatural.

"Gods," she breathed, "Tara... you are so sexy I'm going to burst." Tara laughed, and Willow joined her, rolling off her and just as quickly climbing back on top of her, facing down this time so she could hug Tara back as Tara's arms went around her waist.

"Yeah," Willow smiled. She kissed Tara, which went on for some time, then finally and reluctantly got up and discarded her disarrayed battlegear. Having so little to take off, with her top already half-off and her skirt falling around her knees, she was already naked save for her briefs by the time Tara was sitting up and undoing the straps on the tops of her boots.

"Let me," Willow said, kneeling down in front of Tara and replacing her hands on the buckles. She undid Tara's boots and slid them off, then undid the straps holding the bracer on her left forearm and laid it aside. With a gently tug she brought Tara to her feet, and loosened the laces on either side of her armor. She managed, by standing on tip-toes, to get it all the way up over her head and arms, then laid it out on top of Tara's clothes trunk and came back to stand very close to her as she loosened her skirt. She let it fall to the floor, staring into Tara's eyes.

"I believe I have a promise to keep," Willow said, kneeling down again in front of Tara. Tara wondered for a moment what she was doing, then remembered at the same instant as Willow planted her lips around Tara's navel and thrust her tongue into it, squirming around with relish. Tara squealed and fell gleefully back onto the bed, with Willow holding her around the waist to stop her getting away as she continued to twist her tongue around. Finally she stopped, letting Tara catch her breath, and gave Tara's stomach one last kiss before she got back up and put out the candles. Tara held the blankets up for her as she returned from closing the shutters, and curled around her as she lay down, settling into their accustomed position, Willow on her side with Tara behind her, arm around her waist.

"I know," Tara replied, "I love you too." They lay together for a moment, silent and at peace.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara murmured, "absolutely. It's just a matter of time." Willow giggled, and wriggled in Tara's arms, teasing her. Tara kissed the back of her neck and held her tightly around the waist.

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Hellebore

by Chris Cook

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