Hellebore

by Chris Cook

Copyright © 2003

alia@netspace.net.au

Rating: NC-17
Uber Setting: Diablo II
Disclaimer: Based on characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and Diablo II by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.
Distribution: Through the Looking Glass http://alia.customer.netspace.net.au/glass.htm 
The Mystic Muse    http://mysticmuse.net
River Map    City Map    Willow and Tara's Bedroom    Wallpaper
Feedback: Hell yeah!
Pairing: Willow/Tara

Chapter 16

Willow stirred, stretched slightly, and snuggled contentedly into the warmth of Tara wrapped around her from behind.

"Morning, love," Tara murmured in her ear, making her shiver gently.

"Morning, love," Willow repeated. "How long've you been awake?" Tara chuckled quietly to herself.

"Long enough to watch my beautiful magical lover sleep," she admitted. Willow sighed contentedly and wriggled slowly, rubbing her leg against Tara's.

"Your lover," she said, "I like that..."

"You said it last night," Tara reminded her.

"I know," Willow said, "but now, all calm and everything, it's different... we're lovers... gods that is beautiful." She ran her fingers over the back of Tara's hand, which had once again crept over her breast during the night. "There's no stopping you, is there?" she asked lightly.

"Amazon warriors are unstoppable," Tara answered seriously, "so don't even try."

"The thought never crossed my mind," Willow grinned. She turned over in Tara's embrace, facing her. "Tara?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"What we did last night... you were right," she confessed, "I felt so much a part of you. Like there was nothing separating us, nothing I had to, you know, keep from you... it was beautiful."

"I know," Tara said, "I felt the same. I still do."

"Me too," Willow replied quickly, "a-and... I know we said we'd take things slow, well, it was mainly me saying that, 'cause I wanted to be... I don't know, really, I guess I wanted to feel the way I do now. And I do. So, what I mean is... if you want... I'm ready, Tara. I-I want to be your lover, completely."

"Oh goddess Willow so do I," Tara whispered. Willow felt a rush of emotion, love, relief—she wondered why she had even been nervous, now—anticipation and desire all mingled together. Before she realized it Tara's lips were on hers, and she threw herself into the kiss whole-heartedly. For long moments she and Tara were locked together, exploring each other’s mouths, Tara occasionally biting gently on Willow's lip, Willow sucking on her tongue whenever she managed to capture it.

"Willow," Tara breathed, breaking away for a moment, "we should... not just yet..."

"Oh I'm sorry!" Willow blurted out, "I- you don't have to, just because I'm... I'll wait, it's better if we both-" she was silenced by Tara's fingers over her lips.

"I just mean," Tara explained, "we've got a big day, and we have to get up soon. I don't want us to have to hurry, not our first time."

"Oh," breathed Willow, smiling sheepishly as she relaxed, "oh, right... you're right, of course. So..." she left the word hanging.

"Tonight," Tara whispered, grinning devilishly at her.

"Tonight," Willow repeated, slightly dazed by the surge of lust that Tara's sexy eyes sent through her.

"The caravan sets off tomorrow," Tara went on, "we can rest in the wagon. Tonight, we won't have to rush. All night... you'll have me all to yourself... and I can take my time with you."

"Oh yes," Willow promised, "oh gods, how am I going to get through today?" she added with a groan.

"We'll manage," Tara said, "the trials will probably take up most of the day anyway."

"Yeah," Willow said, "yeah, probably..."

"Are you going to be okay?" Tara asked gently.

"I guess so," Willow admitted, "just... I'll probably have to speak at Hydris's trial. I... don't like the idea of being in the room with him. It makes me feel... I don't know, it makes me go back to how I was after I saw the demon. Scared and alone." Willow was surprised—but not really, she had to admit—at how easy it was to talk about it. She felt as if the worst her imagination could conjure up would always be inadequate to shake her faith in the presence of Tara by her side.

"It's okay to be scared," Tara said, "but you're not alone."

"I know," Willow murmured, "I know... a-and I'll never really be that scared, either. I think, with you, I can't be. You make everything in my life feel better, even the really difficult things."

"I love you Willow," Tara said, "that's all I want, ever."

"I love you so much," Willow whispered, stroking Tara's cheek with loving tenderness. "You know I'll be with you too, right? A-at the other trial?"

"I know," Tara said, "thank you..." She leant in and kissed Willow, first on the cheek, the on the lips, resuming the heated tussle between their tongues that had been earlier interrupted. Willow arched her back, pressing herself against Tara even as she felt Tara's hands on her back, holding her tight. Her legs tangles with Tara's, and she moaned into Tara's mouth as she felt the warmth of Tara's sex, and Tara's thigh pressing up between her own legs.

"Oh gods Tara," she groaned, muffled against Tara's lips.

"Feel how hot I am for you baby?" Tara whispered seductively.

"Oh yes," Willow moaned, "I feel you..." She was surprised when Tara separated their legs from each other, moving her body away even while her lips kept up their intense merging with Willow's. Her hands left Willow's back and disappeared downwards.

"Now feel me, baby," Tara breathed, after a moment of wriggling under the blankets. Willow tentatively moved back to her, buoyed by passion as Tara resumed her kiss, opening Willow's lips and firmly claiming her mouth. When Willow edged her thigh up between Tara's legs again, the heat and wetness she felt against her skin was more than she had ever dreamed of.

"Tara," she moaned, unable to think of words for how she felt. Tara rolled her hips slowly, rubbing her naked sex along the length of Willow's thigh, making a lusty purring noise in the back of her throat as she spread her juices over her lover's skin.

"Just for now, baby," Tara said, "just... so you know... I'm all yours..." She held Willow low on her back, near her waist, and pressed her sex into Willow's hip, sliding herself slowly all the way down her thigh, before finally allowing a little space between them. Willow gasped, overwhelmed by the thought and the reality of Tara's sex kissing her skin, and held her breath the whole time Tara was moving against her until it was over. Finally she let out a long sigh and stared into Tara's eyes.

"Let's not get carried away," Tara murmured, "think of it as a promise, for tonight." Willow didn't know whether to laugh or sob.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" she asked, hugging Tara to herself, though she kept her legs from wrapping around Tara's again.

"Yes," Tara said shamelessly. Now Willow laughed.

"Just remember," Willow warned with a brilliant smile, "the more you tease me, the more merciless I'll be when I finally get you all to myself."

"Mmm, promise?" Tara said, grinning back.

"Oh I promise," Willow assured her. Tara kissed her then slid out of bed, pulling on a long robe so that Willow only got a tantalizing glimpse of the honey-gold curls between her legs. Tara leaned back down to Willow, whispering in her ear while Willow's eyes were occupied with the beautiful cleavage on display mere inches from her face.

"In that case," Tara said, her voice low and sultry, "make sure you spend plenty of time today thinking how wet I'm going to be tonight when you slide your fingers into me." Her tongue darted out to lick Willow's ear, then she stood up, tightened her robe around her, and crossed to the bedroom door.

"Bathing," she said, with a far-too-innocent smile, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

'Ooh I'm going to torture you silly for that,' Willow promised silently, watching the door close. She curled up her legs so she could slide down her underwear, then rolled over onto the part of the bed where Tara had been, inhaling the scent of her hair from the pillow and wallowing in the lingering heat left by her body. For a moment her hand snuck underneath herself and her index finger parted the folds of her sex, but then she forced herself to be still.

"Patience, you insatiable little bit o' me," she told herself, giggling all the while. "No wild frantic self-love just yet. That'd be just what she expects, so instead we tease her right back." She rolled back over, trembling gleefully as she contemplated the game she and Tara were playing. "And the best part," she said to herself, "is that it's impossible to lose!" A plan formed in her mind, and she quickly tossed off the blankets and stood, glancing at herself in the mirror. She posed provocatively, biting the tip of her finger and winking at her reflection, then slipped her other hand between her legs and, very slowly, ran her fingertip up the length of her sex, just once.

"We'll see who drives who insane first!" she proclaimed, before stalking across to Tara's clothes trunk and rummaging around until she found her short black robe, neatly folded from its trip through the castle laundry the day before. She pulled it on, did up the sash tightly around her waist so that the material below it flared around her hips, took one last glance in the mirror to make sure she wasn't showing too much, then followed Tara.

A few of the other Amazons were in the common room, having an early breakfast. Willow noticed Tryptin glance at her then look away with a smile and a half-concealed roll of his eyes, but otherwise kept her gaze fixed forward. She quietly opened the door to the bath room and slipped through, holding the latch so that it didn't make much noise as she closed it again. Inside, across the floor from a fire with several buckets of water warming over it, were two large tubs, one of them empty, the other full of hot, soapy water and Tara.

"Well now," Willow said, making Tara spin around, "need a hand?"

"Goddess, Willow," Tara laughed, "y-you startled me!" She had just finished washing her face, and her skin was flushed pink and glowing. She ran an appreciative eye over Willow. "Did I tell you before how sexy you look in that?" she added.

"Thanks," Willow grinned, stepping gingerly into the water in front of Tara, "but it wouldn't do to get it all wet, would it?" She pulled the sash loose and caught the robe as it slipped off her shoulders, tossing it to one side before putting her hands on her hips and staring down at Tara. Tara's wide eyes traveled slowly down her body, taking in her breasts, her fingers splayed against her hips, the little patch of red hair between her legs, right down to her submerged feet, then all the way back up again until she met Willow's twinkling stare.

Willow slowly knelt in front of Tara, taking the opportunity to get a good look at her naked body, not least her generous breasts, before she reached out and took the washcloth from Tara's unresisting hand. She gently ran the cloth over Tara's shoulders, watching rivulets of water run down across her breasts and through her cleavage. She took each of Tara's arms and dragged the cloth along their length to her hands, running it back underneath so as not to miss any spots. Leaning closer she wet Tara's back, before soaking her hips and thighs down to the water. Then she dropped the cloth in the water, and leaned back just enough to look Tara in the eye. Tara had simply stared at her the whole time, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Tara?" Willow asked.

"Goddess," Tara breathed, her expression suddenly anxious and shy, "I don't deserve... you're perfect..." Willow shook her head gently, and placed a tiny kiss on Tara's lips.

"If I'm good enough for you," she whispered, "then I must be." Tara's eyes focused on her and her lips parted slightly as she digested Willow's words. Then she reached out, her hands cupping Willow's cheeks as tenderly as a mother with a newborn child, and kissed her. It wasn't one of the heated kisses of before, full of desire and barely-contained need, nor was it chaste, for though Tara did nothing more than open her lips slightly and move them against Willow's, the kiss carried in it a current of sexuality that surpassed even the last few days' wildest moments. Willow couldn't describe it as anything less than perfect—all the world fell away, and there was nothing else besides Tara.

After a time—she couldn't describe how long—she felt her legs unfold beneath her, gently break the surface of the water and find the bottom of the tub again. She came slowly back to awareness standing with Tara, their bodies not pressed but simply held together, hands lightly on each other's hips. Tara opened her eyes again, which threatened to consume Willow. Together they sank back into the water.

"Let me?" Willow asked needlessly, her fingers grappling with the soap for a moment. Tara nodded and leaned back slightly, giving Willow room to slowly, luxuriously cover her body. Willow made sure she missed nothing, but the waves of erotic heat coursing through her at the simple act of touching Tara's body, anywhere, were such that she was genuinely afraid of fainting when she finally ran her soapy hands up Tara's stomach and cupped her breasts from beneath. She moved slowly, her thumbs almost touching each other, palms beneath Tara's breasts, fingers splayed to the sides, creeping upwards until she held their weight, and somehow managed to wrap her mind around the sensations, the softness, the smoothness. Tara relaxed herself, kneeling with her hands on her heels behind her, letting her head fall back and giving voice to a tiny, high moan as Willow's thumbs ventured inwards from her cleavage to find her nipples.

Willow massaged Tara's breasts for a moment, then reluctantly let her hands continue upwards, her palms leaving a parting caress over Tara's nipples. She had to fight the urge to stay, to touch Tara like this all day, but she knew they didn't have time right now. The heartbeat of desire building within her was balanced by a new calm she hadn't ever experienced before, as if something inside her had finally understood that a moment like this, even if it would end in nothing more than intimate touching and whispered words, was its own experience, and its own reward.

Soaping Tara's inner thighs, she hesitated. She knew it was foolish, considering everything she and Tara had already shared, but for all that she had held Tara in her arms during her climax, felt the heat and wetness against her leg, felt Tara's sex completely naked that very morning... she had never touched her there. She knew she would, there was no question of it, but she had to pause for just a moment, to let the knowledge sink in before she proceeded. As if reading her mind, Tara moved her knees outwards, parting her thighs in an unmistakable invitation. Willow slowly, gently moved her fingers higher, until they reached their destination, and she felt the unique softness, the silky tenderness, that she had never known anywhere but her own body, her own center.

'Oh my gods,' Willow thought, 'oh my gods, I'm touching her, I'm touching her sex, don't panic, don't move too fast, we're just bathing here, oh gods oh gods oh gods...'

"Mmmmmm," Tara sighed, moving ever so gently, parting her legs as far as the sides of the tub would allow, relaxing just enough to let a fraction of her weight rest on Willow's hand. Willow wouldn't have been able to tear her eyes away had the Power That Is manifested herself right there in the bath room with them. Before her, Tara was the embodiment of pleasure, her whole body and posture and demeanor perfectly aligned to show complete bliss, in the moment when she was utterly vulnerable, absolutely exposed to Willow. Willow had never seen anything that so called to her soul to be as perfect as was humanly possible, to deserve this.

Slowly, with a touch of regret but a stronger glow of satisfaction, Willow drew her hand away from Tara, down into the water. She cupped a handful and brought it up, her fingers again tracing Tara's most intimate place as she washed the soap away. Tara hummed a low note to herself and leant back, angling her hips just a little further towards Willow. Willow's hand lingered for a long moment after the water had drained away, motionless but in delightful contact with Tara. She teased her imagination with how close she was, how little would be required to sink her index finger, resting between Tara's lips, into the velvety depths of her sex.

"Wait," Tara breathed, just as Willow had begun to move her hand away. Willow froze in place as Tara brought her own hand to her arm, trailing down to her wrist.

"I just," Tara breathed, eyes closed, still to all appearances in some other realm of joyfulness, "I just want... to touch your hand... now... there..." Her hand slid onto the back of Willow's, covering it, holding it still against herself. "I-if I were a poet," Tara whispered, "I could tell you how this feels..." After a long, silent moment she let her hand relax just a fraction, and Willow gently moved her fingers to Tara's thigh, stroking her skin before scooping up another handful of water and continuing to wash her.

Willow retrieved the washcloth and ran water over Tara's shoulders, rinsing the soap from her body with loving care. As she reached her waist Tara straightened up on her knees, giving her better access, finally opening her eyes to smile down at Willow as she gently kneaded her bottom and then her thighs. When she was done Tara wordlessly took the cloth from her hand and held it in the water to soak it.

"Close y-your eyes?" she asked in a tiny voice. Willow did so, rewarded a moment later by the sensation of Tara running the wet cloth over her skin. First her shoulders, front and back, then down her arms, then her back, down to her waist, up her sides, down again to her stomach. Willow's lips fell open when the cloth brushed over her breasts, but it was just for a moment, before it ran down her back again, over her bottom with a playful little squeeze, and along her legs. Willow waited for a moment as Tara wet the cloth again, then she felt it soft against her face, as Tara dabbed the corner of it over her brow, her cheeks and her chin. Willow smiled widely at the warmth surrounding her, and her tongue darted out to lick a drop of water from her lips. She felt Tara's fingers, slippery with soap, carefully navigate her face, then the cloth again, washing it away.

Tara started soaping her body, following the same paths Willow had a moment ago. Having felt her touch there before, Willow thought she would be ready when Tara's hands cupped her breasts, but a gasp escaped her as Tara's fingers closed firmly on her, confident and assertive. She leaned back as Tara had, giving herself over to Tara. She felt a thumb and finger close on each of her nipples and lightly pinch them, which forced her mouth wide open as she heaved air into her lungs. Then Tara's hands were moving back down over her stomach onto her legs, squeezing her bottom again in passing, before circling around her knees and moving back up the inside of her thighs.

Willow understood Tara's earlier rapture as she slowly opened her legs for her. She felt completely open, completely helpless, and at the same time perfectly safe and calm. She kept going until her knees nudged up against the sides of the tub, and she could go no further. She felt as though she had somehow exceeded the bounds of reality, as if the world as she knew it, with all its imperfections and compromises, was not capable of containing the pure bliss she felt in the simple act of giving her most private place to her lover, her Tara. She imagined she could feel the warmth of Tara's skin as she neared, and then for the first time in her life she felt the touch of a hand not her own on her sex.

She felt a hundred thoughts all at once. She wanted to be set in stone, immovable, locked in this moment for all time; she wanted to somehow live her entire life without having to let go of the feeling of Tara's hand on her sex, her palm cupping her mound; she wanted to feel Tara's fingers move, slowly and gently, through her folds; she wanted to grab hold of Tara's wrist and drive herself down onto her fingers, to keep Tara inside her forever and ever. Whether by consensus opinion or because of the overriding calm joy she felt, she remained still. Tara's hand stayed with her as she tilted her hips forward and let her head fall back, each breath released from her body accompanied by a soft cry of pleasure.

All too soon she felt Tara's fingers trail away, and then the heat of water against her sex as, for a moment, Tara was touching her again. Then her thighs were being washed clean of soap, and her hips, her bottom, her stomach, breasts and shoulders, and her back. Finally she felt Tara's finger on her chin, inviting her to look up, to open her eyes again. Staring into her eyes, Tara held her hands around Willow's waist and gently straightened her up, until they were kneeling face to face in the cooling water.

"No words," Willow whispered. Tara nodded, and kissed her slowly and deeply, her tongue reaching into Willow's mouth, but moving lazily, taking its time exploring. Willow ran her hands up and down Tara's back, marveling at the perfection of every inch of her, until finally Tara released her lips and rested her forehead on Willow's.

"Y-you want to borrow a towel?" she asked with a sweet smile. Willow smiled, then laughed, and hugged Tara as they stood up together, and didn't let her go until they were both by the fireplace, next to the bench where a selection of thick, fluffy towels were waiting in the warm. They took one each and dried each other, Willow finding it a little easier to keep her mind on the task at hand with several folded layers of towel between her hands and Tara's body as she rubbed her vigorously all over. She smiled as Tara wrapped her towel around her back and pulled her close.

"We're going to be late," she said ruefully.

"We'll get dressed in a hurry," Willow replied.

"Tonight," Tara whispered. Willow nodded.

Willow sat in the Baron's court, Tara's hand warm in hers, as they waited for the prisoner to be brought in. She was glad that neither of them would be required to give evidence—she because she had been several miles away when Tara had been attacked, Tara because there were plenty of noblemen of good standing who were witness to it, and the Baron had conveyed through his advisor Franzef that Tara needn't take the stand unless she wished to. On hearing Franzef's assertion that there was no way the case would fail, Tara had decided to merely observe, asking only to be allowed to speak with the Baron before final judgment was passed.

The room was paneled with wood, and dominated by the Baron's throne, where he would sit and pass judgment after the evidence had been presented and the witnesses had spoken. Behind the empty throne a wooden statue of an eagle reared up, its wings carved into the panels behind it, spanning the width of the room. To one side of the Baron's throne, separated from the rest of the room by sturdy steel bars, a plain wooden chair where the accused would sit. Opposite this were places for the master of the court and the accused's defender. Franzef was already sitting there, having taken the role on account of Josef having no-one to call upon. Willow and Tara sat with a handful of witnesses on benches along the back of the chamber.

"There's an Amazon custom," Tara said quietly, as a pair of guards entered the court and stood ready by the empty cell, "where if a warrior is threatened, she always confronts the source of her fear. They say when we're in danger, when someone puts us in danger, is puts fear into us, and we have to look them in the eye to get rid of the fear. Otherwise, even if its source is destroyed, the fear remains." Willow offered an encouraging smile, and squeezed Tara's hand gently. She was pleased to see Tara looking confident, if slightly tense. A few more witnesses and spectators finished seating themselves.

"All rise," called Franzef, as a door in one of the side walls opened and the Baron emerged. He nodded acknowledgement to the room in general and proceeded to his throne, while the witnesses resumed their seats. Franzef remained standing until his opposite number, a white-haired old man in expensive robes, followed the Baron into the room and took his place beside him. The Baron reached out onto the podium in front of him and placed his hand on top of a steel ball resting there. Willow had wondered about that, but its purpose became clear when he lifted it and brought it sharply down on the metal base beneath it, causing a ringing crack.

"Judgment will commence," he said, nodding to the master of the court. The man stood and walked a few paces to the middle of the chamber.

"Bring in the accused," he ordered the guards. One of them pulled a rope a short distance from the cell, which rang a bell on the other side of the wall. A door inside the cell opened and two guards manhandled Josef through, seating him without much gentleness and remaining behind him, short swords drawn. Willow frowned at Josef, studying him—she realized she had wanted him to be some creature of darkness, warped and inhuman, gleeful in his villainy, but he was just a man. He certainly hadn't benefited from his stay in the castle's cells, sporting several days' worth of stubble and dark circles beneath his eyes, but his expression as he stared at the floor before him was simply resignation.

"Baron," the master of the court began, "this man stands accused of attempted murder, his target being both an ally of the realm, and a guest under this roof, enjoying the status and protection thereof." He retrieved a scroll from his bag and presented it to Franzef, who glanced at it and handed it back.

"What say you?" the Baron asked him.

"The accused pleads guilty, and begs the mercy of the court," Franzef said. The Baron turned to the cell and fixed Josef with a formidable glare.

"Is this true?" he asked formally. Josef didn't meet his eye, but nodded humbly.

"Yes y'r honor," he mumbled.

"Very well," the Baron went on, turning back to Franzef and the master of the court, "the defender will state the case for mercy. The witnesses are excused, if they wish to leave." Willow looked at Tara, who gave her a tight-lipped smile and stayed put. Willow shifted a little closer to her on the bench. She noticed some of the other witnesses leaning back and looking more relaxed, but no-one left the chamber.

"Only that the accused was instructed in his crime by Hydris, at that time mage to the Baron's court," Franzef noted dryly, "a man of much higher rank than the accused, and therefore possessed of a corresponding influence."

"Noted," the Baron replied without feeling. "The case against?" The master of the court stood again.

"The accused is a known outlaw, having committed both theft and brigandage. He accepted Hydris's money readily, and had full knowledge of his actions. If your lordship pleases, documents can be produced telling of his criminal activities in Piotrsberg and Theresenberg. There is a warrant on his head issued by the constables."

"So noted," the Baron said. He glanced once more at Josef in his cell, then looked out over the faces before him. "The accused is guilty by his own admission. The penalty for his crime, as laid down by the law of this realm, is death by hanging. It is my wish, though, that the Amazon nation, whose representative was the target of this cowardly attack, be allowed to take whatever measures it deems necessary to satisfy its own codes of justice."

Tara gaze Willow's hand a quick squeeze, took a deep breath, and stood up. The Baron beckoned her forwards, and Willow watched her intently as she approached his throne.

"M-my lord," she said, raising her voice so everyone could hear, "what punishment would be awarded, if mercy were granted?"

"Having heard this evidence," the Baron said grimly, "this man will never be pardoned. If mercy were called for," he stressed the 'if', "he would be taken to the copper mines near Salzlake. The tunnels are completely mapped, and the guards at the mine among our best. He would be put to work there for the rest of his natural life." Tara nodded, then turned and took a couple of paces towards Josef's cell. He stopped himself from looking up at her as she stood in front of him, close to the bars. Willow held her breath, trusting Tara but anxious for her none the less.

"Look at me," she heard Tara say in a quiet, steady voice. Josef glanced up at her, flinched as he met her stare, and then frowned in confusion at her, as if he had been expecting to be struck dead by her gaze. She leaned a little closer and said something Willow didn't catch, then stepped back and turned towards the Baron again.

"I-I ask for the court's mercy," she said clearly. The Baron looked surprised, and Willow heard astonished muttering from the benches around her.

"This man tried to kill you," the Baron said slowly, as if working his way through a difficult idea.

"Yes," Tara said, "and when he did, I-I was more afraid than I had ever been." She took a moment, then met the Baron's stare with ease. "But I'm not afraid of him now," she said simply.

The pragmatic side of Willow was a little upset—truthfully, the notion that people might be afraid of trying to hurt Tara was one she didn't have much of a problem with—but at the same time she was oddly proud. Tara was smiling faintly as she turned back, without giving Josef another look. Her smile faltered as she looked past Willow, but then she gathered herself and returned to her side. Willow glanced back as Tara was sitting down, and frowned to see von Karlin seated in the back row of benches, scowling at nothing in particular. She took Tara's hand again.

"Judgment is made," the Baron said loudly, "the accused is sentenced to hard labor in the Salzlake mines, the duration being life, with no possibility of release." He brought the steel sphere down once more, striking a spark from the base beneath it. The court stood as he rose from his throne and left the chamber. Willow was glad to see von Karlin leaving without a word.

"You okay?" she asked Tara.

"I'm okay," Tara replied, seeming a little surprised. "I-I'd already decided to ask for mercy... there's very little serious crime on the islands, and we don't like to put people to death. I-I just thought I'd feel more uneasy about it... I feel kind of good," she finished with a shrug and a grin.

"Not afraid any more?" Willow asked with a smile.

"No," Tara said, "I know the Baron will keep his word... that man won't be able to try to hurt me ever again. I'm not afraid."

"Good," Willow said.

Chapter 17

Willow paused outside the court chamber, looking pensive. Tara waited with her, studying her expression. Willow had chatted with her as animatedly as usual during lunch, but of course Tara could feel the tension rising in her as the commencement of the afternoon session neared. It had occurred to Tara more than once that she had had the easier confrontation—though Hydris had completely ignored Willow that day, while Tara had had a crossbow fired at her, Willow's fear ran deeper, and could not be so easily assuaged.

Willow took a deep breath and held out her hand, which Tara instantly took, giving Willow a supportive smile when she looked at her.

"Ready," Willow said after a pause. Tara nodded and walked with her into the chamber. It was much as it had been in the morning, with chairs for the master of the court and the defender, empty cell for the accused, and the Baron's throne waiting for him. There were more guards, though, one on either side of the throne, and a pair standing at either end of the foremost of the benches at the back of the chamber, as well as the pair by the cell. Franzef was already seated, now acting as master of the court; he glanced up at Willow and Tara's entrance, but initially betrayed no expression. He had spoken to Willow briefly during lunch, politely reminding her of the importance of the trial, both in the seriousness of its subject, and the necessity to satisfy the Vizjerei investigators, when they eventually arrived, that the case had been heard fairly and justly. He was not permitted to speak to Willow now, in court, except in his official role, but earlier he had quietly wished her well, as well as thanked Tara for her participation in the earlier trial. Tara kept her eyes on him for a moment, watching as he returned his attention to the papers spread out over the top of the case on his knees, and she thought she noticed the shadow of a frown cross his face. He motioned to one of the assistants standing behind him, and wrote a note which he pressed into the boy's hand with a word of instruction. Willow caught Tara's eye, but she could only shrug as the assistant quickly left the chamber.

The doors opened again, and Tara stiffened in her seat when von Karlin, attended by a short, thin boy carrying his case, strode through. He passed by the witness benches, and to Tara's surprise and dismay seated himself beside Franzef, as defender of the accused. Willow's fingers gripped her hand tightly, and she shifted closer to her, laying her spear on the bench, holding Willow's hand in her lap and covering it with her other, gently stroking the back of her hand as she contemplated the implications of this. Willow gave her a quick, grateful smile, but continued to look more than a little apprehensive. A moment later Tryptin quietly made his way into the chamber and sat beside Tara.

"The Baron's advisor just notified me," he said, glancing at von Karlin and speaking quietly, "I imagine he didn't know until he was already in court."

"What's he doing here?" Tara asked, with Willow leaning against her, close to Tryptin so he wouldn't have to raise his voice.

"He approached the Baron and demanded to be appointed defender," Tryptin explained, "it all happened just a few minutes ago. Apparently he's within his rights, the mage is from his family, a cousin or something. I asked one of the nobles just now, he said so far as he knew they hadn't even spoken to each other in years, so I can't imagine why he's involving himself in this."

"The other night, at dinner," Willow whispered, "he did it deliberately, to find out... what?"

"My best guess," Tryptin said after a moment's thought, "is that he's decided Hydris's conviction would be some sort of insult to his family, and you're both to blame. How he hopes to argue that in court, I don't know, I'm sorry."

"Damn," muttered Willow, "he's going to argue we're morally corrupt or something."

"I doubt the Baron will accept that," Tryptin said with a frown. "It would be stretching protocol, but I could still approach him before he enters the court. He does have the right to make a judgment without a trial."

"Willow?" Tara asked. Willow's face was a picture of concentration as she thought furiously.

"No," she whispered at last, "no, there has to be a trial. There's no way Hydris will be pardoned, but if there's no trial the Vizjerei could make things difficult for the Baron. They'll accept his judgment that Hydris was practicing demonic magic, so long as they see a fair trial took place."

"Will you be alright?" Tara asked as Tryptin nodded and hurried off. "He could question you, as a witness." She had thought of giving Tryptin Silverstrike to take back to her room, now that she was present as an observer, not an Amazon warrior, but von Karlin's presence changed her mind. 'Let him remember he's up against a warrior,' she thought.

"I don't care what he says," Willow replied with a stubborn lift of her chin, "I know what I saw." She glanced at Tara, and leaned closer to her, holding her gaze. "And I know what we have together is the most beautiful thing in the world. He can't say anything to change that."

"I love you," Tara said, wishing she could think of something more. 'Two warriors,' she thought, admiring Willow's courage.

"I know baby," Willow replied. The chamber's side door opened, and Franzef shuffled his papers into his case and stood.

"All rise." The Baron entered, looking none too pleased but keeping his eyes fixed firmly ahead. He sat, smoothed down his robes, then took hold of the steel ball and rapped it against its base.

"Judgment will commence." Franzef stood and ordered one of the guards to bring in the accused. From the door within the cell Hydris was brought out, a guard holding each elbow in a firm grip, and a third standing behind him as he was seated, and the door closed. Tara heard the scraping of a bolt being slid home on the other side. She leaned forward slightly, subjecting Hydris to intense scrutiny as she felt Willow's hand tense in hers. If she had walked past him in the street, she might not have even noticed him—his hair was cut short in a common style, graying at the temples, receding from his forehead and thin on top. His nose was hooked but not overly large, his eyes were deep-set but unremarkable in any other way, and his mouth was set in a thin grimace as if he was feeling slightly impatient, but resigned to it. Aside from the fine tailoring of the simple robe he wore—which Tara noticed had darker patches on it where pockets had been removed, revealing the unfaded fabric beneath—he could have been a shopkeeper, or a notary. If the notion of being on trial for his life affected him at all, he didn't show it.

"Not what I was expecting," Willow murmured in Tara's ear. She nodded and returned Willow's hand to her lap, stroking the back of it.

"Baron," recited Franzef, "this man stands accused of consorting with a known brigand; offering payment for crimes; conspiracy to murder, the intended victim being both ally of the realm and guest under this roof enjoying the status and protection thereof; practicing demonic magics, in violation of his oath as mage to the Baron's court, the seriousness of the charge constituting treason against the realm of Kingsport; attempt to inflict harm and attempted murder, the target being a servant of the Baron's household; and inflicting harm on the Baron's guards, they being in the course of carrying out their duty." He opened his case and took out a scroll, which he handed to von Karlin. Von Karlin took a long time reading it, then handed it back without comment.

"What say you?" the Baron demanded. Von Karlin stood and regarded him levelly.

"The accused is not guilty," he said loudly. The Baron raised a skeptical eyebrow, there was a murmur from the witness benches, and Willow's grip tightened. The Baron stared at von Karlin for a long moment, then turned to Hydris, who didn't appear to be paying any attention to the proceedings around him.

"Is this true?" the Baron asked. Hydris ignored him, his eyes unfocused, blinking now and then as he stared into space.

"The accused chooses to stand mute," the Baron said after a lengthy pause. "Defender, state your case." He sat back in his throne, looking in no way well-disposed towards von Karlin as he took the floor.

"Baron," he began, "witnesses to the court. This man stands accused of attempting to summon a demon,"—he said it in a slightly incredulous tone—"and of arranging an attempt on the life of one of our Amazon guests. The first charge is entirely false. The second is true. However," he held up a finger, "as I shall demonstrate, the actions he took were entirely justified, and the court shall uphold the necessity for them."

"And the other charges of attempted murder and inflicting harm?" the Baron asked pointedly, as von Karlin allowed a theatrical pause.

"A minor matter," he said dismissively, "easily explained, which I shall come to in due course. The court will find in the accused's favor." The Baron snorted derisively.

"Master of the court," he said instead, "your charges are disputed. You have the floor." Von Karlin sat back down, glaring at Franzef as he stood.

"Baron," Franzef said, "I cite the testimony of Josef, convicted of the attack on the Lady Tara. In the presence of witnesses of high standing, he identified the accused as the man who paid him the sum of fifty crowns to commit his crime, and promised fifty more should he succeed. Does the defender challenge this testimony?"

"He does not," von Karlin sneered. Franzef stared at him, then continued.

"I cite the testimony of the servant Kristanna, employed in the Baron's household, that the accused, on being discovered in the process of conducting a magical ritual, attacked her with intent to kill. Does the defender challenge this testimony?"

"Yes," von Karlin said flatly, "I wish to question the girl."

"Out of the question," the Baron interrupted. "The... 'incident' left her in a hysterical state. I will not subject her to examination in court."

"Baron," von Karlin protested, "the girl's testimony is inaccurate. How am I to prove this without questioning her?"

"You may state your reasons for challenging the testimony," the Baron allowed, "and I will weigh what you say against the girl's statements."

"Baron-"

"I will not be swayed," the Baron insisted, leaning forward. "Be grateful for the leeway I am allowing you." Von Karlin met his stare for a moment, then backed down.

"Yes, Baron," he said, bowing with a tight-lipped smile. "In that case, I would remind the Baron that the lower classes from which this girl comes are fearful and suspicious of magic. They have no contact with true mages, and know only what they hear in children's tales. I suggest that the girl's hysteria was provoked solely by seeing magic being performed, and that the accused followed her from his rooms merely in an attempt to calm her, not attack her."

"My Lord?" Franzef asked.

"Proceed," the Baron told him.

"The events the defender refers to concern other evidence. I cite the testimonies of Aldus and Gunter, both guards in the Baron's employ, that the accused pursued the girl carrying a knife, which he wielded in a threatening manner, and that when blocked by them he attacked them, wounding Gunter in the leg. Does the defender challenge?"

"Yes," von Karlin said again. "I wish to question the guards." The Baron gestured, and two of the burly men sitting in the witness benched stood and came forward, standing side by side before Franzef and von Karlin.

"Aldus," von Karlin said to the smaller of the two, "and Gunter, correct?"

"Yes m'lord," they both said.

"Aldus," von Karlin went on, turning away from the other guard, "you say the accused was pursuing this girl Kristanna, and you barred his way, correct?"

"Yes m'lord," Aldus repeated.

"And you say that the accused was wielding a knife?"

"Yes m'lord."

"'In a threatening manner,' the master of the court says. Could you describe how one wields a knife in a threatening manner?"

"He was holding it ahead of him, m'lord," Aldus said, "raised, like to strike."

"I see. Suppose you were running, and had your sword in your hand. Would you be holding it at your side as you ran?"

"No m'lord," Aldus said hesitantly.

"No," von Karlin repeated. "Now, suppose that the accused merely had the knife in his hand when he was disturbed, and had not put it down in his hurry to follow the distraught girl. Do you think that is possible?"

"Um..." Aldus looked nervous, "I can't say, m'lord. I just know what I saw, which is that I thought he meant to hurt the girl."

"You thought," von Karlin said, stressing the second word, "indeed. Gunter, you were wounded in the ensuing struggle. In your leg? You seem to stand easily enough."

"T'weren't a bad wound m'lord," Gunter said, in a voice an octave lower than his companion's.

"How fortunate. You and your friend here are continuing to fulfill your duties as guards?" Off their nods, he went on: "And tomorrow, you will be leaving us to escort the departing caravan to Duncraig? I understand you two were among those who were dispatched to the city to escort the Amazons here in the first place."

"Yes m'lord," Gunter said.

"I see. You are not concerned to leave the castle of your lord at a time when it has no mage?"

"No, m'lord?" said Gunter, confused.

"I mean," von Karlin explained, "when there is no mage to assist in the castle's defense, should the need arise?"

"Oh, no m'lord," said Gunter, "no, see, the mage, 'e didn't defend the castle. The guards do that."

"And what did the mage do?" von Karlin asked.

"Um, not sure, m'lord," Gunter said, "magic, I s'pose, and read 'is books."

"I see. You may go." He turned his back on the two guards as they shuffled back to their seats. "If the Baron pleases, the master of the court will resume his case?"

"Baron," Franzef said, at the Baron's nod, "I cite the testimony of Miss Willow, sorceress of the Zann Esu order, that examination of his rooms found evidence that he had been engaged in a ritual intended to summon or make contact with a demon, and that he had in his possession books and materials of a demonic nature. Does the defender challenge?" he finished with a resigned look.

"Yes," von Karlin said, ignoring Franzef's look, "I wish to question the sorceress."

"Miss Willow?" the Baron asked politely. Tara returned Willow's brief, firm squeeze before she released her hand. Willow stood and made her way to the court floor, glancing at Franzef and the Baron before meeting von Karlin's stare. Tara watched him like a hawk.

"Miss Willow," he said, "your order is devoted to purity of magic, correct?"

"That's right," she answered. Von Karlin waited for a moment, as if expecting a 'sir' or 'my lord', and scowled when it became apparent that he wasn't going to get one.

"And the Vizjerei clan, of which the accused is a member?" he went on, pacing across the floor, keeping his distance from Willow. "Are they too devoted to purity?"

"They are devoted to the protection of this world from demonic forces," Willow said.

"But they don't adhere to the same rules as your order," von Karlin said flatly.

"They don't restrict themselves to elemental magic," Willow clarified, "but they still hold that demons can't be trusted or dealt with in any way."

"I see. You practice only elemental magic because you believe other forms of magic are impure, correct?"

"Is there a point to this?" the Baron asked.

"Yes my lord," von Karlin replied smoothly, "I beg your indulgence. Miss Willow?"

"Other forms of magic are vulnerable to outside influence," Willow answered, "elemental magic isn't."

"Elemental magic is pure," von Karlin said, "and other magics are not?"

"A mage cannot be corrupted through elemental magic," Willow said, "other magics carry that danger." Von Karlin frowned, as if he had been hoping for a less measured reply.

"And the Vizjerei," he said, "they practice these other magics? What sorts?"

"The Vizjerei use certain kinds of prime magic, as well as holy magic, some alchemy some druidic practices, and a weaker form of elemental magic."

"What makes them weaker?" von Karlin asked sharply.

"The Zann Esu have studied elemental magic for centuries," Willow replied, "our knowledge of it is greater than the other clans. The Vizjerei use elemental forces in conjunction with prime and holy magic, they don't channel the elements directly.

"And these other magics are vulnerable to demons," von Karlin said.

"It's possible," Willow said. "Holy magic can be corrupted if a demon or another mage influences what the supplicant sees during prayer. Druidic magic is dependant on the purity of the earth from which its power flows—if the earth is corrupted, so is the magic."

"And the other? Alchemy?"

"Alchemy isn't a full magic," Willow explained, "it's a combination of lesser magical forces and chemical reactions. It's possible to corrupt the magical component, but only to a small degree. We—the Zann Esu—avoid alchemy just to be sure, but it's not really a source of significant danger."

"Which the other forms are," von Karlin added. "Tell me, how do the Zann Esu feel about the other mage clans? The ones who practice these corruptible magics?"

"How do you mean?" asked Willow, looking as if she expected a verbal assault soon.

"It's my understanding that the Zann Esu existed in strict isolation until very recently," von Karlin explained, "that, in fact, prior to the Reckoning none of the other mage clans even knew that you existed."

"That's true," Willow said, "that was before my time, but yes. We maintained secrecy to be sure that the forces of hell wouldn't learn of our existence."

"And once those forces of hell launched their assault, and failed," von Karlin said, "you have come into the open. Taken your place among your fellow clans. What I wish to know is, what is your place?"

"Von Karlin," the Baron interjected, "get to the point."

"Yes my lord," von Karlin said quickly. "I will put it plainly, Miss Willow. Yes or no: the Zann Esu consider themselves more powerful than any other mage clan?"

"Um, in terms of battle magic, yes," Willow said hesitantly.

"You see other clans as a weakness, a way for your old enemies the demons to gain power."

"I'm not sure I-"

"Yes or no, Miss Willow," von Karlin interrupted her, "demons gain power in this world through corrupting members of other clans, correct?"

"Well, yes," Willow admitted, "if they-"

"And these corrupt mages, being dangerous, are eliminated," von Karlin finished, his voice rising. "Do you know of the order called the Viz-Jaq'taar, Miss Willow?" Willow was silent for a moment, surprise written in her face.

"Yes," she said eventually, "the Mage Slayers."

"And what purpose does this order serve?"

"They... they're assassins," Willow said. "They kill corrupt mages."

"Has a Mage Slayer ever killed a member of the Zann Esu?" von Karlin snapped. Willow frowned in confusion.

"No," she said, "not that I-"

"Has a Mage Slayer ever attempted to kill a member of the Zann Esu?"

"Not that I know of," Willow answered.

"And lastly, Miss Willow," von Karlin said with a smile that didn't at all reach his eyes, "why have you not stayed in the room given to you by the Baron?"

"Excuse me?" Willow asked in the silence following von Karlin's question.

"A simple question, Miss Willow. Where have you slept these past three nights?"

"Von Karlin," the Baron warned. He glanced at Willow. "You don't have to answer that nonsense," he added. Willow drew herself up straight.

"In Lady Tara's room," she said, staring at von Karlin. He stared back for a moment, then turned to Franzef.

"Any questions?" he asked bluntly. Franzef frowned at him.

"Nothing further to Miss Willow's testimony," he said.

"Very well then," von Karlin said, turning back to Willow. "Oh, before you leave, one last question. You say that the accused's library contained books of a demonic nature. You are sure of this?"

"Yes," said Willow.

"You read them thoroughly?"

"No," Willow admitted, "but I know their contents."

"And the artifacts you identified as being of a dangerous nature," von Karlin went on, "you recognized them as well?"

"Yes."

"And how is it that you know so much about demonic magic, Miss Willow?" von Karlin asked.

"The... Zann Esu have a library of magical books and artifacts," Willow said hesitantly.

"Including demonic works?"

"To study," Willow said, "not to use!"

"And you have studied them in great detail, Miss Willow?"

"If you're saying-"

"I withdraw the question," von Karlin raised his voice, cutting Willow off. "You may go." Willow hesitated, looked at the Baron, then squared her shoulders and turned from von Karlin.

"Damn," she muttered as she sat next to Tara.

"It'll be alright," Tara assured her in a whisper.

"Why was he asking all those questions?" Willow muttered. "The assassins, and the Zann Esu, and gods, where I sleep- what's he doing?" Tara could only take Willow's hand again, and hold it tightly. Willow leaned her head on Tara's shoulder and watched von Karlin take the floor again.

"Baron," he said, "I move for the dismissal of all charges." Franzef stared at him in shock; the Baron glared as if suspecting a trap was about to be sprung.

"State your reasons," he demanded.

"Simply this," von Karlin said, "the accused is a good man, innocent of any wrongdoing, the victim of a conspiracy between this sorceress and her lover," he sneered the word, "among the Amazons."

"Explain yourself!" the Baron barked, clearly holding his temper by a slim margin. Tara gulped and put her arm around Willow, feeling the tension rise in her body.

"Gladly," von Karlin said mildly. "The accused is a member of the Vizjerei clan, who have served the realms of Westmarch for centuries, yet are hated in the eastern lands where the Zann Esu hold power. These sorceresses keep intimate company with each other, in defiance of proper, moral behavior, yet seek to claim superiority over all others by virtue of their 'pure' magic. They send assassins to weaken the other clans, those who are closer to our realms and our ways, while they hold themselves above judgment. In short, Baron, Miss Willow has manipulated your servants into implicating the accused, when in fact it is she who is the real source of evil!"

"Von Karlin!" the Baron snapped.

"Will you silence me, Baron?" he retorted, standing his ground. "You have it within your power to execute this man, your own mage, without trial. Will you stand before his clan's representatives and tell them you killed one of their own without allowing his defender to speak?" The Baron glared furiously at von Karlin, but said nothing, which von Karlin took as leave to continue.

"This sorceress," he went on, "in collaboration with her Amazon mistress, bought the loyalty of the two guards who claim to have been attacked, who you heard here today admit their contempt for your mage. She arranged a meeting with the accused, in which no doubt she would have 'discovered' his corruption and executed him personally, while hiding behind the authority of the Zann Esu, who can do no wrong. Fearing for his life, the accused hired a man to protect him, but in his naivety failed to take into consideration the unnatural abilities granted to the sorceress's lover. The accused even attempted to expose the corruption in the sorceress's own heart, but she arranged for him to be disturbed before he could complete the ritual to undo her powers, and then her lackeys were nearby to ambush him and fabricate this story of his attacking the servant girl. Then, who else but Miss Willow is called to examine the accused's rooms, and what should she find but the very demonic books and artifacts with which she is so well acquainted!"

"Von Karlin, this is madness!" the Baron shouted, reaching for his steel gavel.

"I am doing this for you!" von Karlin insisted, raising his voice. "Your Barony cannot be allowed to be used by these creatures, for their own ends. We must not harbor their kind under our roofs, accept their ways, allow them to turn us against each other!"

"One more word, von Karlin-" the Baron barked in warning.

"You accuse your own mage," von Karlin yelled, ignoring him, pointing towards Willow, "when the real demon sits there laughing at you!" Tara held Willow tight, her other hand going to the shaft of her spear, as she felt a tremendous urge to slam the butt of it into von Karlin's head.

"Silence!" the Baron boomed. Von Karlin reacted to that, whirling around to glare at the Baron himself.

"Don't let them do this," he said, his voice quieter, "my Baron, can you not see the evil in their hearts? How they are unnatural? You knew what was right once, my Baron, don't let your grief over your daughter-"

The chamber fell silent as the Baron shot to his feet, his jaw working furiously. Tara seriously wondered if he was about to attack von Karlin, the way he glared at him, his hands clenching into tight fists. After a long, dangerous moment he seemed to gain some measure of control over himself.

"How dare you," he said, his voice completely flat and lifeless, "how dare you..."

"You pathetic fool," came a new voice. Everyone, even Willow, who had been staring at von Karlin in complete shock, and Tara, her knuckles white around the shaft of her spear, looked at Hydris, who had finally looked up, and was regarding von Karlin with vague disgust, as if he was a plate of food that had been left in the sun and gone off.

"I can see through you," he said, his voice rising and falling in a chilling sing-song, "every thought. You sickening me. You think you have the right to judge everyone else? You? What do you know of purity? What do you know of hell?"

"I'm doing this for you!" von Karlin hissed, seeming to forget that everyone in the chamber could hear him.

"I never asked you to," Hydris said without feeling. "Let them kill me. I'll go to hell and serve my mistress there."

"You don't know what you're saying," von Karlin insisted.

"I know exactly what I am saying," Hydris snarled. "Better than you ever could. She has shown me, made me accept myself, my true purpose. You think I'm insane? I serve a power greater than you have ever known! What do you serve? What do you live for? You hate your life, despise your fellow men, you feel no warmth, no love... I know all your secrets. Shall I tell you? You cry at night because you enjoy how you feel when you beat your wife. And you seek to judge me?"

"Shut up!" von Karlin hissed, darting forward. He reached through the bars of the cell, and quick as a flash Hydris had grabbed his arm and rammed it sideways against the bars, snapping the bones. The guards stared in shock as von Karlin fell back, clutching his arm which hung at an unnatural angle, as Hydris began to chant in a low, echoing voice. A dark cloud streamed from his mouth, his nostrils, his eyes and ears, swirling into the middle of the chamber, thickening. The Baron shouted, Tara was on her feet, swinging Silverstrike around one-handed to aim at the darkness, Willow's grip was almost painfully tight in her other hand, she felt a chill and something blue and icy passed in front of her eyes-

There was a sound, like a plough digging into wet soil, and the darkness vanished. Tara took a deep, cold breath and looked at Hydris. He squinted, as if trying to see through a fog, and coughed quietly, bringing up a trickle of blood. Behind him, the guard's hand trembled on the hilt of the short sword piercing his back between the shoulder blades, slicing down through his chest from behind. The guard sucked in a breath and pulled the sword free, leaving Hydris to sink to his knees, his head coming to rest against the bars of his cell, eyes staring lifelessly at von Karlin, who was still whimpering on the floor in front of him.

Tara slowly became aware of the strange cold she was feeling, and looked down at herself. An aura of icy mist was wrapped around her body, tiny particles of blue light swirling through it. It moved as she did, as she turned back to look at Willow. It was coming from her, flowing across her body, out along her arm and over their joined hands to envelop Tara. Willow was staring at the air where the darkness had been, unblinking. Tara slowly sat back down next to her, putting her arm back around her waist and pulling her close. Willow swayed into her embrace, but just kept staring, her breathing coming in short gasps, as if she was silently, invisibly crying.

"Willow," Tara whispered, her voice taking on a strange sound inside the chill, "it's over. It's okay now, Willow." Willow very slowly turned and looked at Tara, as if she didn't understand.

"You're safe now," Tara said gently, "it's over. I've got you." Willow blinked, and the mist faded into the air.

"Tara," she whispered, her lips trembling. She jumped and threw her arms around Tara as the Baron's voice sounded.

"Dieter," he said to the guard still staring at his bloody sword, "you acted with my approval. Report to the master-at-arms. You two," he added to the other guards in the cell, "take that and bury it. Franzef-" The Baron hesitated as his advisor came to his side. He took a deep breath and went on, in a quiet voice that nevertheless carried through the still chamber. "Have von Karlin taken to the hospital wing. Keep him confined. Send guards to his house. Go with them. Talk to his wife. If you suspect ill-treatment... just bring her here." He looked out around the chamber, glancing at the guards dragging Hydris's body away, and at von Karlin, leaning weakly on the shoulder of another guard as he was escorted away. He met Tara's helpless stare, and his face fell even more at the sight of Willow huddled against her side, her face buried in Tara's hair, holding onto her tightly.

"Judgment is made," he said with a sigh.

Willow was quiet through dinner, and Tara let her be, simply sitting beside her, keeping a hand in hers, or resting gently on her lower back as they ate. Tryptin, once he returned from being briefed by the Baron, sensed that the best thing he could do was stay out of the way. He kept himself to a couple of necessary questions before leaving the common room again. Once or twice Willow managed a little smile for Tara, and Tara smiled back, though she could see the haunted look still in Willow's eyes.

When they finished dinner Tara took Willow gently by the arm and led her to the bedroom. Willow crossed to the bed while Tara turned to close the door, but when she turned back Willow was just standing there to one side of the bed, staring down at the floor. Tara stood behind her and touched her shoulder, relieved that she didn't flinch away from the touch.

"Willow?" she asked in her softest, most gentle voice.

"I-I'm sorry," Willow said in a tiny whisper, "I'm so sorry..." Tara moved to her side so she could see her face. Willow's features were twitching as if she was trying to keep herself from sobbing, and not entirely succeeding.

"I... I know we said... we'd... I c-can't, Tara, I'm so sorry-"

"No, baby," Tara said soothingly, hugging Willow tightly, "you don't have to be sorry about anything, not anything baby..."

"I was-" Willow said, her words coming in gasps, "I wanted... so much... a-and I know you did too- but I can't..."

"Willow," Tara said quietly, "it's okay. We'll sleep. I'll hold you." Willow glanced up at Tara's eyes, blinking quickly, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"I... I-I heard her," she whispered, "I h-heard her laughing at me..."

"I'll keep you safe," Tara promised.

"Y-you will?" Willow asked in a pleading voice.

"Always, baby," Tara murmured. "Come on." She gently sat Willow down and took off her boots, and then her clothes. She hesitated when she came to Willow's bra, but Willow nodded, and then tugged a little at the waistband of her underwear until Tara slid them down her legs and off. Tara felt nothing sexual—she was still awed at Willow's beauty, but her mind was fixed on a single purpose, her beautiful Willow was hurting, and she had to make it right. She lay Willow down and pulled the blankets up over her, tucking her in tenderly. Following her lead Tara stripped off all her clothes, padding around the room naked to put out the candles and close the shutters. She slipped underneath the blankets and reached out for Willow, drawing her into a loving embrace, curling up against her back and surrounding her with her arms. She felt the tension in Willow, and held her tightly.

"Let it out, baby," she whispered in her ear, "I'll keep you safe." Willow turned over, trembled, then let out a sob, and another, and then she was crying as hard as her body could bear. Tara felt the tears wet her shoulder as Willow's body was wracked by sobs, and she too cried, silently and without disturbing Willow by moving, simply letting the tears slide down her cheeks. Willow clung to her, and cried as if she had to shed enough tears to moisten all the deserts in the world, and Tara did the only thing she could think of. Quietly, almost below hearing, she began to sing, an old song she had learned from Jenavria, when she had been very small and the young woman had been taking care of her. It was an ancient song, which Jenavria had learned from Eponin, and Eponin from her mother Jilorra, and so on back through the generations, a song telling of the birth of the Amazon nation. It was High Amazonian, which Willow didn't know, but Tara had always liked listening to the song, even before she had learned the old language—the gentle, steady rhythm of the words always calmed her, and it slowly calmed Willow too. Her sobs quietened, and at last she lay still against Tara, her breathing slow and steady like Tara's song. Tara kept singing, verse after verse, long after Willow had fallen asleep, watching over her dreams, until her words became murmurs, and she too fell asleep.

Chapter 18

Willow woke to Tara lightly stroking her cheek. She smiled, tilted her head towards her hand, and stretched, feeling Tara's legs against the backs of hers.

"'Ello," she mumbled.

"Willow," Tara murmured in reply. Willow shifted slightly and lay on her back, grinning up at Tara, who propped up her head with her hand and watched her.

"First time in a while I've woken up without you feeling me up," Willow joked. Tara bit her bottom lip and gave her a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Well, I was when I woke up," she admitted, "but I thought I'd let you sleep in. I got breakfast," she added, reaching behind herself. Her hand returned with a bread roll, already filled with cheese and tomatoes, with little raising peeking out of the crust. She offered the tip to Willow, who obediently bit into it.

"Mmm, s'good," she chewed, "'ow 'ong ev... 'ait a 'o-ent," she swallowed. "How long have you been up?" she tried again.

"Not long," Tara said, tickling Willow's nose with the bread roll before offering her another bite, "but breakfast happened early. Most of the emissaries are busy packing their gear, and Tryptin's downstairs with the caravan master getting everything ready to move."

"'O 'e," she paused and finished the mouthful, "do we have to hurry?"

"Not for a little while," Tara smiled, "Melcan offered to get everything onto our wagon, so there's only our clothes and your books still up here."

"Aw," Willow groaned, "that was a really nice waking-up. Seems like a pity not to take advantage of it."

"Yeah," Tara blushed. "D-do you think you prefer cheek-stroking, or breast-holding to wake up with?"

"Tricky," Willow frowned in thought, "there's point in favor of both... you know, I think I'll just vote for you touching me in general, and leave the details up to you."

"Thank you Willow," Tara said quietly, with a dazzling smile.

"Thank you," Willow insisted, "you... You know, I was dreaming, and I could hear her voice. Shadai, I mean, laughing like I heard in the court." Tara immediately lay closer to Willow, one arm resting over her chest, her hand on Willow's shoulder, and her leg lying over Willow's thighs. "But it was okay," Willow went on, "because I could hear you too, your song. You know, the one you sang to me last night... I heard it, and it kept me safe. You kept me safe. Just like you promised."

"I'll always protect you, Willow," Tara said.

"I know," Willow smiled, "I love you so much."

"I'll never get tired of hearing that," Tara promised.

"I'll never get tired of saying it," Willow replied with a pleased grin.

"I love you, my wonderful sorceress," Tara murmured.

"My lovely Amazon. Oh, I wish we didn't have to get up," Willow moaned.

"Me too," Tara said, "how are you feeling? About yesterday, I mean?"

"It's like my dream," Willow said slowly, "I... it happened, and it was bad. But you're here, so I feel safe. It's just a memory now. I-I'm glad I cried, last night... you know, I never did until then, not like that. It felt like I was letting go of this huge weight I'd been carrying all this time." Tara smiled at her, sadness and hope mingling in her expression.

"I'm glad I could help," she said.

"Oh, Tara, you did so much more than help," Willow insisted, holding Tara's hand against her skin, "you- I don't know what I would've done without you. You make me feel safe, and loved, and, and every moment I have with you is so beautiful... everything I thought I lost, you're giving back to me. A-and not even an evil mage can take that away."

"You look so happy," Tara said quietly, "it makes me feel very special."

"You are," Willow whispered, "you're an angel." The way Tara blushed was more than Willow's self-restraint could bear, and she snuck her other arm beneath Tara's waist, pulling her closer.

"C'mere, my angel," she purred. She gently but firmly guided Tara until she was atop Willow, straddling her hips. Willow smiled and arched her back a little, fully enjoying the way Tara's breasts covered hers, seeming to envelop her chest in softness as she put her other hand behind Tara's back and hugged her close. Tara kissed her, running her tongue over Willow's lips and then inside, both of them moaning at the pleasure. Tara slowly leaned back, craning her neck to hold onto the kiss until the last possible second, then rising to kneel over Willow, smiling down at her.

"Like what you see?" she said in a sultry murmur. Willow could only nod dumbly as she watched Tara's hands stroke up the length of her body from her thighs and finally come to her breasts, which she cupped and held up, each nipple caught between thumb and forefinger.

"All yours, baby," Tara whispered, lightly pinching her nipples, which were already as hard as they could possibly be. She let go of herself and reached for Willow's hands, guiding them up as she leant back down. She supported herself with an arm on either side of Willow and licked her lips as Willow took the weight of her breasts in her palms, gently kneading and squeezing them.

"Not too much," she said in a breathless whisper, "we don't have long... just enough... so I can feel your hands on me... all day..." Willow nodded, awash with pleasure at the feel of Tara's breasts in her hands. Their size, so much more abundant, more womanly than her own, their weight in her hands, their incredible softness. She tore her eyes away to see Tara's face, and was entranced by her expression, her lips open and glistening, her eyes half-closed, a flush of excitement in her cheeks. She convinced herself to release Tara's breasts, putting her arms around her and gently pulling her closer.

"Something to remember all day," she promised. She craned her head up and forward just enough to catch Tara's right nipple with the tip of her tongue. She ran her tongue slowly along the short length, excited beyond measure at the sudden, delighted moan that came from deep in Tara's throat, then turned to her other breast and tasted that nipple as well. She let her head fall back to the pillow and looked up at Tara, who had closed her eyes and let her jaw hang open. She seemed to take a moment to gather her wits, then lay herself down on top of Willow.

"I just want to warn you," she breathed into Willow's ear, "if I kiss you now, it's going to be the kind of kiss that'll make both of us explode with frustration when we have to get up in a minute." She lifted her eyes to Willow's, waiting for a response.

"Well I think you'd better kiss me then," Willow said, "I don't know about you, but I'd rather explode than miss this."

"Me too," Tara said quickly, then she captured Willow's lips in a searing, furious, deeply sensual and utterly passionate kiss. It was the kind of kiss Willow was growing to love, when her shy Amazon locked her lips to Willow's and demanded absolute surrender, which Willow immediately gave. Tara's lips felt blazing hot against hers, and her tongue darted into and around her mouth with such agility that Willow wondered, with whatever remained of her mind that hadn't made itself a conduit directly between her mouth and her sex, whether there was some sort of special Amazon tongue trick that Tara had learned. She offered her own, moaning continuously as Tara lavished attention on it, drawing it into the heated confines of her mouth and caressing its whole length. She could feel her hips moving by themselves, and could muster only just enough self-control to keep from reaching down and sending herself beyond the point of no return. 'Or better yet,' she mused giddily, 'have Tara do it... those long, nimble fingers of hers...' Willow's fleeting fantasy came perilously close to doing the job for her, and the wonder that Tara could do this to her, with just a kiss, was the last thought she had for some time.

Finally, tortuously, Tara released Willow's lips and lay her head down on her shoulder. Willow breathed in great gulps of air, letting out a little exclamation of pleasure with each breath she released.

"Oh Willow," Tara whispered, chuckling as she spoke, "goddess... you're going to drive me mad... if I don't do it first..."

"Me?" protested Willow feebly, giggling. "That was all you... what did I do? I just lay here like a good little sorceress while a frenzied Amazon ravaged me."

"Oh, you did plenty," Tara assured her. "Your lips, your tongue... goddess, kissing you is like... like... it must be what a soul feels when it's born, when life begins."

"There's a bright light, and someone whacks you on the back?" Willow asked innocently. Tara burst out laughing.

"Ah," she sighed, when her laughter finally subsided, "my beautiful lady... I love you."

"I know," said Willow, "I love you too, my warrior."

"We should get up."

"Yeah."

"If we wait any longer,' Tara said, "they'll have to drag us down to the courtyard and toss us in the wagon still wrapped in our blankets."

"Do you think they would?" Willow asked. "It's cozy in here, it'd be nice to stay. Is there more of that bread roll?"

"Get up, you," Tara scolded fondly.

Willow and Tara arrived in the castle courtyard to find the caravan in a state of considerable activity. Eight more wagons had been added to the six that had set out from Kingsport, five of them bearing the emblem of Duncraig, a heraldic shield with a stallion rearing up on one side and an eagle on the other, on great canvas sheets sewn to the wagon covers with sturdy leather strips. Servants were hurrying about, loaded down with baggage and provisions, and a contingent of guards, Kingsport and Duncraig, were massing by the stables, readying their horses. Melcan was standing by Willow and Tara's wagon as they neared.

"Greetings ladies," he said, "Master Tryptin's greetings, he's busy with the caravan master, and would you both see the Baron in his office once your gear is stowed? I'll keep watch on the wagon."

"Thanks," Willow said, as Tara nodded and climbed up into the back of the wagon, taking their bags and Willow's book satchels as they were handed to her and putting them wherever they seemed to fit in the interior. It was a bit more cramped than she remembered, with one side half-full of tightly-strapped sacks containing provisions for the journey, but she estimated there would still be enough room with everything aboard for her and Willow to sleep side by side comfortably, given the close embrace they had defaulted towards the last few nights. 'Plenty of room,' she thought 'with her on her side, me behind her... and the driver will be sleeping in one of the other wagons at night.' She smiled at that line of thought and jumped back down to the ground, taking Willow's hand as they walked back towards the keep.

"What're you thinking?" Willow asked with a sly grin.

"What makes you think I'm thinking anything?" Tara replied in her best innocent voice.

"The way you're holding my hand," Willow said, "fingers intertwined, thumb brushing the side of my wrist... makes me think you're thinking something I'd like." Tara looked down at their joined hands.

"I hadn't even realized I was doing that," she said with a laugh. "But, as it happens, yes... it's more cramped in the wagon than before, I doubt there'll be room to sleep with any space between us."

"That's a pity," Willow said with a look that said she didn't regret it one bit, "I guess we'll have to snuggle up tight at night. To conserve space."

"I guess we will," Tara agreed.

The guard outside the Baron's office nodded at Willow and Tara as if he'd been expecting the, and opened the door for them. The Baron was, as usual, at his desk reading. He looked up, and closed the book, standing and coming around the desk to greet them.

"Lady Tara," he said with a smile, "Miss Willow... I regret you are not staying with us longer."

"Us too, Baron," Willow said earnestly.

"Y-your hospitality has been most welcome, sir," Tara added. 'Particularly the decent-sized beds,' she thought, 'I'm going to miss that.' The Baron nodded and frowned to himself.

"Gracious of you to say so," he said, "and I thank you, but I know your stay here has been far from enviable. As your host, I feel I am in both your debts, for your help during this trouble, and your most forgiving conduct. You have been my guests, and it was my responsibility to see that you were safe here."

"Baron," Tara said hesitantly, "w-we have a saying, among warriors: 'even a great leader is just a woman.' Um, man, in this case. Your conduct as our host has been generous and honorable. Amazons don't ask for more than that."

"I am responsible for my people," the Baron said grimly.

"A-and you have taken responsibility for them," Tara countered. "You've shown yourself to be a formidable leader. It wasn't weakness on your part that allowed Hydris to do what he did, so the blame isn't yours."

"That goes for me too," Willow added. "Despite everything that's happened, I'm glad to have been your guest. Sir," she finished. Tara grinned, and even the Baron managed a smile.

"You're very kind," he said. "You should know that Lord von Karlin remains under guard here. I intend to look into his family in detail, and pass his title on to whoever among them may prove fit for it. As for the man himself... that remains to be decided. I understand his mental state is not good. He is angry, bitter... he voices it at some length, but he often makes no sense. I think perhaps his pride had undone him, and that he cannot accept how very wrong he was. When he has recovered, there will be another trial, to determine whether he knowingly lied to the court, or whether he truly believed what he said. He will never hold a title again, that much is certain." The Baron turned and gazed out of the windows, staring at the countryside bathed in the morning sun. Willow glanced at Tara, but after a warm smile she returned her attention to the Baron, sensing that he had more to say.

"He was mad, I think," the Baron mused, "but much of what he said... his vitriol against your intimacy... oh, forgive me if I assume too much, but you are... you have shared a room these past nights? You share feelings...?"

"We're in love," Tara said, surprising herself—not by speaking the truth, but by saying it so plainly in front of the Baron. Willow beamed at her and squeezed her hand, and made no move to let go. The Baron half-turned, a sad smile on his face.

"You are brave to say so," he said. "I did not always realize what a foolish notion it was, that love, of all things, could be thought a sin. Von Karlin was not alone in that, you understand. Women sharing feelings as you do is not something that has ever been condoned in these lands, and there have been times when people were actively persecuted. I have tried to set an example for my court, and through them my people, but such sentiments do not vanish overnight. I cannot imagine what it must be like... to be hated for the greatest blessing a being can receive."

"Your people have been very accepting," Willow spoke up.

"I am glad," the Baron said, "perhaps I have done some good after all. There is something I wish you two to see. If you would?" He crossed the study to a door behind Franzef's vacant desk, and opened it for Willow and Tara. Beyond they found themselves in a smaller study, obviously a private room as opposed to the outer study which might be visited by anyone meeting with the Baron on business. Tara glanced at the shelves nearest her, noting that many of the books stored there were histories, books of art, books of philosophy—the Baron's private library, kept for his own enjoyment, not as an aid to ruling his realm. The Baron left the door open behind them and crossed the small room, coming to a portrait covered in a velvet cloth, positioned so that it would be visible from the padded reading chair up against the opposite wall by the fireplace.

"My daughter, Elisabeth," the Baron said, unveiling the painting. It was of a girl, almost old enough to be a woman, with golden blond hair and an impish smile. She held a short bow in one hand no her lap, and something about the way she was sitting indicated restlessness, as if she could think of many things more interesting to do that sit for a portrait.

"Von Karlin mentioned her to me yesterday, in defense of his preposterous allegations. I believe it is right that you know why he did that. She had just turned sixteen when this was painted," the Baron went on, "and not long after this, she left. I do not know where she is now, though she sends letters occasionally. She left three years and eight months ago. You'll forgive me if I sit? I am not as young as I once was, and these last few days have not found me sleeping well." He nodded his thanks to Willow and Tara as he sat down in the reading chair, gazing up at the painting.

"I drove her away," he said after a moment's silence. "Not intentionally, of course—she was willful, and a holy terror when she was a little thing." He smiled a fond smile. "I was very proud of her. I had determined that she would be my heir, you see. If I had had a son, even if he were a younger child, he would have been heir, but when she was born, and my wife held her in her arms, I decided I would devote myself to loving this one child. My wife was ill for some time after the birth, and though she recovered, the doctors said that another child might be dangerous for her, so she agreed that our Elisabeth would be our sole heir. And heir to the realm.

"I was so proud of myself—arrogant, I see now—when I explained to her, in this very room, with that portrait still newly-painted, how she would not have to endure a marriage of policy, as many noble daughters do. The laws of this realm, archaic laws, gave me the power to choose a husband for her, but I would not allow it. I told her, you are becoming a woman now, and the choice shall be yours. I explained to her how the sons of noblemen from the realm and beyond would send her letters, and visit with hopes of courting her, and that she should choose from them, or not at all, as her heart decided. Or if she found happiness with another, even a young man without a drop of noble blood in his veins, I said to her, let it be so, and I would see that he would be her husband, and be damned to all who protested.

"I felt so pleased with myself, that I was being a good father to her. And, you know, she looked at me with such affection... she looked at me as if I had given her the greatest gift she had imagined. And then she told me she was in love, with the daughter of the castle's falconer, a girl named Fionne. They had been inseparable, you know, for five years—the girl had her father's gift for hawks. Elisabeth used to go with her out onto the battlements and watch her fly a peregrine—ladies are supposed to fly merlins, they say, but the peregrine was her favorite. My Elisabeth told me she was in love with Fionne." Willow and Tara remained silent, watching as the Baron stared back through the years.

"I had no idea," he said, "I knew they spent so much time together, but I thought it friendship. The idea that my daughter could fall in love with a woman... I explained to her, quite calmly, that it was impossible for her to be with Fionne, or any woman. I told her that true love would lead to marriage and family, and that with a woman she could have neither. I told her that I was not angry with her, or disappointed, but that she would have to recognize that the feelings she had were foolish, and that one day she would know love, and take a husband, and they would be happy. And then I told her that it would be best if she did not see Fionne any more." A lonely tear trickled down his cheek. "Gods help me, she obeyed. And when I made arrangements for Fionne's father to go to the court at Perschell, far west of here, she said not a word in protest. I was... relieved. I congratulated myself on my handling of the situation, and looked forward to seeing my daughter move on with her life and be happy. And I never once realized what I had done to her. I had told her to give up her love, and though it tore out her heart she had done it. Because I was her father, and she loved me, no matter that I was a narrow-minded old fool.

Not long after, rumors began to circulate about her—perhaps one of the servants talked about her relationship with Fionne, I don't know. And one day, at a dinner, a man not unlike von Karlin, a nobleman of some prestige, joked about it. He insulted my dear, beautiful daughter, with her sitting their right next to me, and laughed as though he had done nothing. And there were some at the table who looked to me, to see if I would speak against him, but I did nothing. I worried that I might be seen to be endorsing my daughter's mistake, as I thought of it, and I was silent. She was so brave... how she sat beside me, kind and respectful, when I had betrayed her so, I will never know. That night she told me she loved me, as she always did, when I tucked her in to sleep. The next morning she was gone—some of her books, her traveling gear, her bow and her horse.

"Of course I searched for her, but she was a strong rider, and knew all that I did about covering her tracks. I thought she had made for Perschell at first, but there was no sign of her on those roads. My wife knew what had happened, and why, but like my daughter, she loves me so she forgave me, even when I did not deserve it. Eventually a letter came from my Elisabeth, from somewhere in Khanduras, though I don't know where. She writes now and then, because she knows her mother would worry about her otherwise, and for my sake, because she takes pity on a foolish old man. She has joined an order there, women who devote themselves to protecting the weak and defenseless. She tells me she is happy." The Baron stared at his daughter's portrait for a moment, then seemed to come back to the present, glancing at Willow and Tara.

"I wanted you to know this," he said, "because I'm sure these last few days will not be the last time you encounter people who would condemn you for the bond you share. I know you are both women of great courage and determination, and I have seen with my own eyes that you will not be cowed by the small-minded thoughts of frightened old fools. But even so, it will weigh heavily on you. I hope your burden may be made lighter, if you remember that many of those who ignore the truth of your love are just timid old men, as I was. I wish you both happiness and good fortune on your journey, and in your life." He rose from his chair and bowed to Tara, then to Willow.

"Baron," Tara said as he was showing them out of the study, "I-I know it's not my place to speak for her... but maybe, if your daughter writes to you, and wants you to know she's well, and happy... perhaps she's forgiven you? Y-you should forgive yourself, too." She gave the Baron a sincere look, and Willow added a hopeful smile.

"I will... consider what you have said," he replied. "Perhaps, one day, I shall be able to."

"That's so sad," Willow said, once she and Tara had returned to the courtyard. Tara was rummaging through the baggage stored in one of the cargo wagons.

"They teach us a little about what it's like in the Western Kingdoms," she said, "just in case we ever have to travel. At lot of things we take for granted in the islands are strange here, and sometimes even good people can be very frightened of what they're not familiar with."

"I wonder if it's harder for the noblemen," Willow wondered, "all the people down in the village just didn't seem to care that we were together. I suppose they've got enough to worry about, with harvests and things. I guess seeing a couple of women kissing isn't so bad compared to losing a crop that has to feed you for the winter."

"You're probably right," Tara said, "that's how it was with us—Amazons, I mean. We've always had to defend ourselves, and work hard to get enough food, and shelter all our people. It's only recently that we can really say the islands are safe, and we've got enough crops to make sure everyone has enough to eat. So we accept whatever love comes into our lives, or the lives of those around us."

"It's a good way to go about it," Willow observed, "I hope it spreads. What're you looking for?"

"We brought along a bunch of spares," Tara said to herself, heaving a sack out of the way to get at a bundle wrapped in leather, "here we go..." She unwrapped the bundle and drew out an unstrung bow, similar to her own though with less ornamentation. She handed it to Willow as she replaced the baggage in the wagon.

"Where's Stefan?" she asked. Willow glanced around, finally spotting the archery master over near the outer wall, talking with some of the guards who would be accompanying the caravan. She pointed him out to Tara, who has strung the bow with a string from her belt. She took Willow's hand and they walked through the caravan, dodging servants and horses, until they reached the wall.

"Good morning ladies," Stefan said, seeing them.

"Good morning," Willow said.

"Hello Stefan," Tara said. She hesitated for a moment, then held out the bow. "I-I want you to have this. You and your family have made us both feel very welcome here. I wanted to give you something to show our gratitude." Stefan took the bow, staring intently at it, as a craftsman inspecting a fine piece of work.

"I'm truly honored," he said, "this is remarkable workmanship... you're sure you can spare it?"

"Of course," Tara said. Behind them, somewhere among the wagons, a horn sounded.

"Um, we have to go," Tara added hastily, "I'm glad we got to meet you."

"Me too," Willow said, "I enjoyed meeting your wife the other day."

"Well, you've made me very happy," Stefan said, "safe journey to you. And if you should ever come back this way, our home is your home." Willow and Tara thanked him again before returning to the caravan, climbing inside their wagon as the drivers and riders began to move out, forming a line of wagons and baggage carts as they passed through the castle gate.

"You know, I'm going to miss this place," Willow said wistfully, staring back out of the open flap at the back of the wagon, at the castle as they slowly moved away from it. "Even with all the stuff that happened... this is where I really let myself love you. Not that I'm going to stop," she added hastily, "no siree... just, you know, good memories. Our first kiss... even better, our second kiss, oh my gods... where did you learn to kiss like that, anyway?"

"You inspire me," Tara said with a broad grin. She leaned over and pulled the flap down, leaving the two of them separated from the world outside, with only the rocking of the wagon, the glow of sunlight on the canvas roof, and each other for company.

"I know what you mean," Tara murmured, moving over on her knees to sit beside Willow, resting her chin on her shoulder with both arms around her waist. "Lots of good memories. But it's a long way to Duncraig," she shrugged, "plenty of time to make lots more."

Chapter 19

Tara sat on the tailboard of the wagon and watched the scenery slowly go by as she methodically worked bramble oil into the length of her unstrung bow. Willow was inside, rearranging the baggage and satchels for the fifth time, and seeing as Tara didn't know what particular arrangement she was trying for, she had elected to keep out of the way. Twice so far Willow had poked her head out of the canvas flap at the back of the wagon, the first time to give Tara a quick kiss on the back of her neck, the second to assure her that she was 'almost done.' Tara smiled at her lover's enthusiasm, and used the time to complete a few menial tasks, such as keeping her bow in top condition.

"You done out here?" Willow asked, appearing over Tara's shoulder.

"Sure," Tara said, holding the bow up and looking along its length, studying how the sunlight glinted off the treated wood.

"Well then, your carriage awaits," Willow said with a wink. Tara lifted the flap and climbed inside to find the wagon substantially transformed. The wooden floor was covered in blankets, and beneath them, when Tara lifted a corner to find out, were the spare bedrolls and soft leather sheets the caravan had brought along in case of the loss of some of their supplies, or damage to one of the wagons. With a double layer of blankets over the top of them, thick, strong wool and then a thinner, softer layer on top, Willow had created the most comfortable sleeping surface Tara could have asked for, short of emptying the wagon and hauling a real bed inside. Their luggage and provisions were securely stored on either side, up against the sides of the wagon, lashed down to keep them from moving. At the front the wagon's share of the caravan's bulk supplies, in wooden crates and heavy hessian sacks, were stowed up against the back of the headboard, with a few spare bedrolls and several thick rolled-up blankets covering them, to serve as a comfortable back to lean against, as Willow was doing. Tara glanced around, Willow's thought for detail not lost on her. Her spear was stowed securely behind the luggage on one side, safe from falling loose but available at a moment's notice. Willow's satchels were piled between a pair of baggage sacks, easily accessible. Rolled up and secured with leather straps on the other side of the makeshift bed were enough blankets to replace the wagon's bedding, so they could change the blankets and wash the old ones whenever they wanted. Willow had even left one of the crates uncovered at one side, up against the edge of the headboard, to leave easy access to the flap at the front of the wagon leading onto the driver's seat outside.

"Willow," Tara said, beaming, "this is incredible... how did you do this?"

"Well," Willow said, sitting up and shuffling over to Tara's side, staying on her knees to keep from bumping her head on the struts holding the roof up, "I was thinking it's still a month to winter, and we're pretty far south as well, but there's all this extra gear for when the caravan goes on from Duncraig up towards Khanduras where it's colder. You know, all the blankets, and those leathers, in case they run into a snowstorm or something. So I thought, what's the point of having all that just rolled up and getting in the way? And then I thought, what could be better than traveling all the way to Duncraig with my beautiful Amazon warrior in our own cozy little love nest?"

"Love nest, huh?" Tara purred, lying down and pulling Willow down with her.

"Well, maybe it's not quite that big," Willow admitted, stretching out next to Tara, "but it's the next best thing to a real bed, provided you don't mind sleeping really close. Which I don't," she finished with an impish smile. Then her expression turned forlorn. "I wish we could've stayed a few more days in the castle."

"I know," Tara said, "but it won't be long."

"Yeah," Willow said with a half-smile, "but, you know, now we're stuck here for two weeks, a-and much as I love being this close to you... it's a bit cramped for what I'd, you know, like to be doing."

"Hey, baby," Tara murmured, "it's okay. I'm okay with waiting until we've got a proper room, and a real bed."

"Me too," Willow insisted, "of course... it's just that... I was really looking forward to it, last night, and then with everything that happened... and I know you were too..."

"Willow," Tara said, quietly but firmly, "it's alright. I was looking forward t-to... making love," she blushed and grinned, "of course. But it wouldn't have been right. Not then. You needed me to hold you and make you feel safe."

"It just seems unfair," Willow complained, "you're so kind and caring, and baby I love you so much, but you had to go to sleep, you know... unsatisfied. After we'd already decided to-"

"No, Willow," Tara insisted, "I wasn't unsatisfied, I promise I wasn't. Just as much as you needed me to comfort you, I needed to as well. I saw you hurting, and I just had to hold you, and try to make it better. I-I went to sleep knowing I had done everything I could to help you, to make you feel safe after what happened. That's really important to me, and it meant more to me than just being able to experience some release. That wasn't important right then. I promise you, Willow, I wish things had happened differently, but there's nothing you could have done that would have made me feel more in love with you than I do right now."

Willow smiled up at her, with unshed tears in her eyes, and then buried her face in Tara's chest as she hugged her fiercely.

"Mmm l'v 'oo," she said indistinctly, muffled by Tara's cleavage.

"I love you too, baby," Tara purred, stroking Willow's hair. Willow held her for a moment, then relaxed her arms, though she didn't remove them from Tara's waist, and let her head fall sideways, pillowed on Tara's left breast.

"How do you always know what to say to make me feel better?" she asked rhetorically. "You're an angel, baby, you really are." Tara smiled fondly down at her.

"So when sorceresses meet angels," she said with innocent curiosity, "do they always bury their faces in their bosom like that?" Willow laughed.

"It's a truly angelic bosom," she retorted, "so yes, I don't see how they'd be able to resist the temptation. I can't," she added, emphasizing her point by again pressing her face between Tara's breasts. Tara was very glad she had chosen to wear her lighter leather armor, without the high neckline.

"Um, Tara?" Willow asked, once she had again extracted herself. "I was wondering... I know it's a bit cramped in here, but if you wanted to... I mean, we could make love? Not right now, obviously, but maybe in the evening...?"

"W-would you be okay with that?" Tara asked gently.

"I was kind of picturing a big bed," Willow admitted, "but I think with you I could be perfectly happy if we were lying in a puddle in the middle of a field... A-and last night I was worried, you know, well, of course you know, I was worried about how long it would take for me to feel, well, good, but I do. I really do, I feel the way I did before the court happened. So, um, yes, I'd be absolutely okay with that. Um, what do you think?"

"I think," Tara said slowly, "well, I know I-I want to make love to you more than I've ever wanted anything all my life... but you're right, it is kind of cramped, and... well, this will be our first time. If you can wait a little longer, I'd like it to be in a real bed as well."

"Okay," Willow said, hugging Tara tightly again, "okay... I'd like that too. A-and you're right, for our first time I'd have felt a bit, you know, like it wouldn't really have been proper until we got to a bedroom, and we can do all the things I've been imagining..."

"Oh?" Tara asked. "And what might those be?"

"As if you can't guess," Willow teased back.

"Well, I've got a couple of ideas of my own," Tara replied, "and I think they're worth waiting a couple of days for. We're due to get to the next town then, we'll see what our sleeping arrangements are like."

"So we might not have to wait until we get to Duncraig?" Willow said excitedly. "Well yay! How about that for having our cake and eating it?"

"I'm not planning on eating cake," Tara purred seductively. Willow looked curious for a moment.

"Oh," she said, blushing, "oh, yeah, um... well, we definitely need a proper bed, 'cause I think I'm going to be doing a fair bit of energetic writhing around."

"Yes you are," Tara promised, "and we could do with walls a bit more solid than canvas, too."

"Huh?" Willow asked.

"Because I can tell by the way you're looking at me," Tara explained in a sensual murmur, "that I'm going to be moaning at the top of my lungs." Willow leant into Tara's cleavage and gave her a soft, playful nip on her breast, which made her wriggle delightfully, before settling down next to her and half on top of her.

"You're really okay with waiting?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," Tara assured her.

"Me too," Willow said. "It might not be always easy, but it's for the best. And hey, it doesn't mean we can't see what it's like making love in a caravan wagon later on. I'm sure it has its points."

"It may at that," Tara mused. "What do you think would be better, at night when we're stopped, or during the day when we're moving? Or we could try both. What do you think?" She gave Willow a warm smile.

"I don't think there's ever going to be a dull moment," Willow said, smiling back.

"Not if I can help it," Tara promised. "Maybe one day we could test your theory and see what it's like making love in a puddle in the middle of a field?"

"Only if we wait until summer," Willow said.

"That's fine with me," Tara murmured, "I don't have any plans that don't involve being with you for a long, long time."

"Me too, baby," Willow said, "in fact... I-I know we're young, a-and all that, but still... I-I can't imagine ever wanting to be with anyone else."

"Me neither," Tara promised, enveloping Willow in a hug of her own.

"Mmm, in fact, I could spend my whole life right here," she said, closing her eyes and fully enjoying the softness of Tara's chest beneath her cheek. They lay together in content silence for a moment, before Willow opened her eyes and fixed Tara with a curious gaze.

"I meant to ask you earlier," she said, "what language was that song you sang to me?"

"High Amazonian," Tara said, "it's the language of all our songs and legends."

"It's really beautiful," Willow said, "and you've got such a perfect singing voice... do all Amazons speak that?"

"We learn it before we come of age," Tara explained, "children usually start learning it when they're fourteen or so, but it takes a while to master. We use Westlin normally, it's more flexible, but the old language is important to us. The way it sounds, the way it's put together, it defines who we are. It's a very structured language."

"How do you say 'I love you'?" Willow asked. Tara smiled leisurely.

"Me' te'ela," she said.

"Me' te'ela," Willow repeated, hugging her. "What about 'you're beautiful'?"

"Te'la," Tara said.

"Te'la. It's very similar to 'I love you'."

"It's the way the language is," Tara said, "to love is to recognize beauty. Te'la doesn't just mean you're attractive, it means you have beauty in your soul. You deserve love."

"I like this language," Willow mused. "So... how about 'looking at you makes me wet'?" she asked with a mischievous grin. Tara smiled at her.

"The best translation would be 'Me'elas te's'sori'."

"Me'elas," Willow repeated, "that's... something about 'my love'?"

"Very close," Tara said, impressed, "'me'' is me or my, 'ela' is love. 'Elas' is the body's physical capacity for love—High Amazonian is kind of sexual in a lot of ways. 'Me'elas' m-means 'my sex'. Usually literally, though depending on how it's used it can mean any part of the body that's, um, stimulated or aroused, or causing arousal in a partner."

"No kidding," said Willow, "I definitely like this language. So 'me'elas te's'sori' means...?"

"My sex weeps with joy for you," Tara murmured, her cheeks reddening.

"Wow," Willow said, "i-is everything erotic in High Amazonian so poetic?" Tara grinned shyly.

"Love is the founding concept of the language," she replied, "making love is a very special part of that. The structure of the language is, um, most elegant when it's being used to express things that are most important. That's why we learn it when we're at that age, it's part of learning about sex, and love."

"It's really beautiful," Willow said. "I'm definitely going to remember it."

"W-would you like to learn it?" Tara asked hesitantly. "I mean, it'd take a while, obviously, but I'm sure you'd catch on really fast..."

"I'd love that," Willow smiled. A thought occurred to her, and she raised an eyebrow suggestively. "You're not worried I'd wait until we're in a room full of people who won't understand it, and start telling you exactly what I'm going to do with you later on?" Tara's eyes went wide, and a smile played around the corners of her mouth.

"Ben me'elas's'sori," she replied.

"Ben me'elas... that makes you...?" Willow guessed.

"Uh-huh," Tara nodded. She slowly stroked her fingers up and down Willow's back, sighing contentedly at the feel of Willow lying against her. "D-do you want to start now?"

"Start what?" Willow said with a playful grin.

"Learning the language," Tara said with exaggerated patience. "Insatiable."

"Yup," Willow happily admitted. "Okay, let's go."

"How about I tell you a story?" Tara suggested. Willow nodded and settled herself in, reclining over Tara's body with her chin cradled in her cleavage, staring up at her face.

"I'tu a Ela'maso," she began, following with the translation: "In the time before Amazons—ile'se'nela u lea'la—there was born a beautiful woman—el'ela de co'a—kind and gentle—e'ti'Athulua—her name was Athulua.

"Her home was plagued by violence," Tara continued, translating as she went, "the people of her village struggling to survive while lords from far-away cities waged war through the land. As all her kind did, she learned to walk softly, to hear the approach of strangers and hide from them, and to live off what little the ravaged lands could provide. And above all, she and her people feared the soldiers, whose wars burned their crops, poisoned their soil and killed their animals.

"One year the wars were particularly vicious, and many of Athulua's people died. Athulua fled to the deepest forest, where few ever came, hoping the armies would pass her by. One day, when out gathering food, Athulua heard the approach of a stranger, someone who did not know the ways of her people to move quietly. She hid and watched, and saw a soldier, a woman with dark skin and strange attire, wandering through the forest. Athulua saw that the soldier was badly wounded, and knew that she would die soon. But she took pity on the poor woman, seeing her so hurt and lost, and so she followed her, and when at last the soldier fell to the ground from fatigue and dropped her spear, Athulua dared come out of hiding and approach her.

"The soldier's name was Kethryes, and though she had little food to spare, Athulua took her home and cared for her, unable to simply walk away and leave her to die. For many months Athulua searched the forest for food by day, coming back to her meager home in the evening to care for Kethryes. At first Kethryes couldn't understand Athulua's language, but little by little she learned to, and as she slowly regained her strength they talked, and became friends. As Kethryes healed, Athulua was glad to see her pain gone, but feared that she would lose her new friend once she was well enough to leave the forest and rejoin her army.

"Then one night the armies came to the deepest forest, and their fighting burned the land. Athulua and Kethryes fled, but with fires burning they became lost in the smoke, and soldiers captured them. They recognized Kethryes as one of her own and welcomed her, but Athulua was taken prisoner, to be sent to the lord of the army as a slave. The next night, when Athulua's guard was sleeping, Kethryes came to her and freed her. Together they escaped from the army and fled towards the coast, where they hoped to cross the sea and leave the wars behind for ever.

"They traveled far, coming to lands strange to both of them, and having only each other to take comfort in. During their journey they fell in love, Athulua with Kethryes's valiant spirit, Kethryes with Athulua's gentle soul. But unknown to them, the lord of Kethryes's army was greatly angered by her betrayal, and pursued her with many of his soldiers. And finally, after following their prey for many months, they caught Athulua and Kethryes, and Kethryes was taken prisoner while defending her lover so that she could escape.

"Athulua was alone, and had no god to pray to, so as she hid from the soldiers and cried she prayed to Kethryes, asking for her warrior spirit. She took Kethryes's spear and followed the soldiers to their camp, and as the sun set she attacked, swiftly defeating each soldier who challenged her, allowing them to run when they chose, but killing those who would not. She freed Kethryes and together they traveled far away from that land, and were never parted from each other again."

"And were never parted from each other again," Willow said, before Tara had translated the last line. Tara smiled down at her.

"You're a quick learner," she said.

"In all sorts of ways," Willow replied. "They were the first Amazons? And they became your gods?"

"That's right," Tara said, "as they traveled they met others who were searching for a better life, and together they made the journey to the islands, which everyone thought were too wild to be conquered. But they did, and now it's our home, and Athulua and Kethryes still love each other and all their people."

"Well, I don't know about all of the Amazons," Willow said, "but I know I love one of them. Tell me another story?" Tara laughed to herself.

"Alright," she said, stroking Willow's hair as she turned and rested her head against Tara's breasts. "How Zerae the gladiator was freed..."

Tara told Willow stories through the day, both content to stay lying with each other among their soft blankets, as the clouds outside darkened and began to rain. With no respite from the constant drizzle in sight the caravan master chose not to halt for lunch, stopping only long enough for everyone to take some food from one of the supply wagons. Willow and Tara scurried out for lunch, both under the cover of a single waterproof sheet, and retreated as quickly as they could to the shelter of their wagon, passing the sheet out to the driver in front and then closing the flaps at the front and back of the canvas cover as tightly as they could. While Willow was finishing the last of her bread Tara idly began to draw, refusing to let Willow see until she was finished. So, while Tara remained seated with her back against the piled-up crates, cushioned by blankets, drawing away, Willow lay down and rested her head in Tara's lap, listening as Tara told her more stories, some of them Amazon legends, some wandering tales that Tara made up as she went.

At last evening came, and the caravan drew to a halt, taking what shelter it could from a rise on the west side of the road. Willow got up and peered through a corner of the canvas flap as the wagons moved into a half-circle up against the rise, with the baggage and supply wagons outside and the sleeping wagons as well-protected as they could be behind them. Tryptin, beneath a heavy waterproof coat and hood, made his way around the Amazon wagons, distributing food for dinner so that no-one else would have to go out in the rain. Tara continued to draw through dinner, and Willow tried to guess what she was up to, just from watching the way she would frown in thought before applying a stroke of her pencil here or there, turning the page this way and that beneath the light of the oil lamp above them.

"I suppose we'd better get ready for bed," Willow said idly after both of them had finished eating, and her curiosity was really starting to get the better of her. Tara nodded absently and stared at her page for a moment before making a miniscule addition to it. Willow unfolded the blankets she had set aside to sleep under, and began laying them out over their makeshift bed, leaving the corner where Tara was sitting alone for the moment. That done she pulled off her boots and undid her belt, glancing at Tara as she did so. She wasn't sure, but she thought she caught a glimpse of Tara's eyes on her, and Tara's smile was definitely a little wider than it had been.

Willow sat herself opposite Tara, deliberately not making any effort to look over the top of her page, and began undoing the laces on the sides of her boots. Tara smiled wider, and made a final addition to her sketch before setting it aside, face-down, and looking up at Willow. Willow finished removing Tara's boots and looked at her, then at the paper, then back at her.

"Your masterpiece is finished?" she asked playfully.

"I don't know if I'd go that far," Tara admitted, "but yes, it's done."

"Do I get to see?" Willow asked.

"In a moment," Tara said softly, "when we're ready to go to bed." Willow grinned at Tara, enjoying the little game, and then sat up straight as she pulled her top over her head and let it fall behind her. She kept herself from meeting Tara's gaze, wanting her to have no distractions to draw her eyes away from the show Willow was putting on for her. Slowly she unhooked her bra at the back and drew her arms out of its shoulder straps, keeping it held to her chest with one hand as she did so. She finally looked at Tara, pleased to see Tara's eyes fixed on her hand as she slowly let it fall, revealing her breasts. Tara's lips parted as she took in a quick breath and held it.

"I've put a couple of robes aside," Willow said quietly, "in case we need to get dressed in a hurry... so, we could sleep naked, if you want?"

"I-I want," Tara breathed.

"I bet you do," Willow grinned at her, kneeling upright and undoing the waistband of her skirt. Tara's eyes followed it down her thighs, taking in every inch of skin revealed. Once the skirt was down around her knees Willow quickly pulled it back and off her legs, then sat down and leaned back, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear. Slowly, very much aware of Tara's intense gaze, she pulled the waistband down over her hips, lifting her bottom up off the blankets just long enough to slide the material out from underneath, and then dragging it down her legs. When she got as far as she could reach she lifted her right leg, pressing her hand to the back of her thigh as she lifted it up to her chest and slipped her foot through the loop. She then stretched both legs out straight, using her free foot to slide her underwear off her other leg, and looked at Tara.

Tara had the same expression she always did when Willow revealed herself for her, the serene mix of amazement and desire that always sent a thrill down Willow's spine. It was both at the thought of Tara being so enthralled by her body, and the suggestion of Tara's wilder side, that she showed only to Willow, the nervous anticipation of what Tara might do. In this case, after a moment in which she ran her eyes along the length of Willow's body, Tara reached slowly for the laces on her leathers.

"No," Willow said, surprising Tara. She lithely got up and knelt at Tara's side, gently removing her hands from the laces and taking hold of them herself.

"I did okay getting your boots off," she whispered in Tara's ear, "let me finish what I started." Tara's eyes went wide, and then she smiled at Willow and sat back, letting Willow attend to her clothes. Willow took her time loosening the laces of her armor, then pulled it off over her head, storing it out of the way. Next came Tara's thin shirt, and Willow made sure to graze her palms over Tara's breasts as she took that off, taking full advantage of the fact that Tara needed no bra so long as she had her armor to support her.

Willow had intended to proceed to Tara's leather skirt next, but the sight of Tara's breasts fully revealed to her sidetracked her badly. Watchful for any sign that Tara felt she was going too far, and detecting none, she took her breasts in her hands and gently pressed against them, squashing them lightly against Tara's body. She moved her hands in a slow circular motion, squeezing, lifting and releasing, while her thumbs stroked her nipples. Tara's breathing grew noticeably faster as Willow caught her nipples between her thumbs and the sides of her palms and began rolling them gently to and fro. Willow luxuriated in her fascination with Tara's breasts for some time, then—noticing Tara's eyes begin to close and her breathing becoming more like sighing—she took each nipple firmly between thumb and forefinger and squeezed, tugging gently at the same time.

Tara's reaction was immediate and dramatic. As soon as Willow applied the firm pressure to her nipples she arched her back as far as she could, pressing her breasts into Willow's surprised hands with more force than Willow had so far exerted. Tara's legs, crossed beneath her, uncoiled with a warrior's speed, closing again around Willow's waist and physically pulling her closer until Tara's leather skirt rode up around her hips and Willow's waist was pressed against the thin, and damp, material of her underwear. Finally, still before Willow had really had time to react, she sat up straight, one arm around Willow's back, hugging her close, with her hands still around Tara's breasts, now trapped by her own pressing in behind. Tara's other hand went to the back of Willow's head, holding her as she kissed her with all the wild passion Willow had been daydreaming about a moment ago.

Willow had opened her lips and invited Tara into her mouth before she even knew what was happening, and her first conscious reaction was to let her legs relax, letting Tara hold her exactly as she wanted. Tara licked at Willow's tongue, drew it out into her own mouth, then grazed her teeth across it as her lips continued to open and close against Willow's, making her shudder uncontrollably. Willow felt more sexual than she ever had in her life, naked in Tara's arms, giving herself to Tara to be pleasured in whatever manner Tara desired. A brief fantasy flitted through her mind, of Tara in full ceremonial armor, the image of a warrior, and herself standing naked against her, her nipples hard against the chill of a polished metal breastplate, inviting Tara to make love to her. The tail of the thought caught in her mind, and as the rest of the fantasy passed she held the image of looking into Tara's eyes and saying 'make love to me'.

Tara's lips slowed, and she released Willow from her embrace, holding her gently as they both caught their breaths.

"I-I didn't mean to react that... m-much," Tara said shyly.

"I'm so glad you did," Willow whispered, another shudder running through her body that she was powerless to suppress. Part of her wanted to throw herself back into Tara's arms, but she recognized that, while they waited for the right moment to give themselves over to their love completely, they had to maintain at least some control. She slowly extracted herself from between Tara's legs and reached down to undo her skirt. The catch came loose in her fingers, and Tara lifted herself slightly, letting Willow slide the skirt down her legs and off. Willow glanced up at Tara, resting the tips of her fingers on the waist of Tara's briefs, and on receiving a little nod from Tara, she slipped her fingers beneath the fabric and pulled it down. She wondered for a moment if she shouldn't look, if it would be somehow disrespectful to stare unashamedly at Tara's sex, but the way Tara relaxed her body and parted her thighs a fraction once her legs were free of her underwear drew Willow's eyes, and she spent a long moment simply taking in the sight of the patch of golden curls, and the lips of her sex beneath them, glistening slightly in the lamplight.

"Well," she said, her voice shaky, "time for bed, then?"

"Do you want to see my drawing first?" Tara murmured.

"Oh," Willow laughed quietly, "I forgot... I've been going nuts trying to figure out what it is all evening, but I guess somebody distracted me, you know?" Tara chucked to herself and reached out for the piece of paper—which showed off her breasts very well, Willow observed, as she reached behind herself—and handed it to Willow.

Willow recognized it at once, but nevertheless it took a moment for her to understand what she saw. Unlike the drawing of Tara's she had seen before, this one was completely detailed, with tiny, faint lines overlapping to create subtle shades, every inch of light and shadow accounted for. There were two figures, kneeling face to face, naked and almost glowing with the perfection of the smoothness of their skin. Tara was on the left, staring at Willow, and the scene was of their shared bathing, only the morning before. Tara's hand was between Willow's legs, gently touching her sex, and Willow's expression was one of absolutely pure joy. The way Tara had drawn her, with subtle plays of light on her face and in the shades behind her, made her look like an angel. Willow felt as if she was seeing two pictures at once, one sexual, herself brought to a serene peak of arousal by Tara's touch, the other of Tara worshipping her as a goddess, touching her as an offering to a divinity.

"Tara," Willow breathed, "th-this is... it's beautiful... gods... I look- d-do you really see me like this?"

"Always," Tara said. She gently took the page from Willow's unresisting hand and put it safely into their journal, nestling beside her earlier self-portrait.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow whispered, "I wish I could show you how I see you."

"You don't have to," Tara promised, "e-every time you look at me, I-I know."

Willow wanted to say something, anything, to tell Tara how much she loved her right then, but she couldn't find words to do it justice, and looking into Tara's eyes she realized she didn't have to.

"I love you," she murmured, knowing that Tara would understand how much those simple words meant.

"I love you too," Tara said, and Willow realized she had somehow succeeded, and Tara had heard all the unimaginable words she hadn't said, for she had said them back. Willow felt as though she would be able to glow with warmth in the middle of an icy river, as she lay down beside Tara, pulling the blankets up over them as Tara turned the lamp down, extinguishing it, and lay down. Willow lay on her side, in her accustomed position, but something about the way Tara wrapped around her tonight, the way her leg rested almost on top of Willow's, or the way her hand was pressed a little firmer into her body, made Willow shiver with delight, and dispelled any thought of getting to sleep easily. Willow remained still for a moment, listening to Tara's breathing, and the occasional muted voices from the caravan guards not far outside.

"Tara?" she asked eventually.

"Yes?" Tara purred, her silken voice leaving Willow in no doubt that she knew exactly how her insides were stirring.

"I-I love how you kissed me," she confessed. Tara held her a little closer, eliciting a sigh from Willow.

"I get a little nervous," Tara admitted, "sometimes I, y-you know... I get a bit wild, and it's not something I'm used to."

"You don't have to be nervous," Willow assured her, "when you get like that, I feel... um, I, uh, you don't have to, I know it might be a bit, well, a bit much, if we're not going to make love, but I'd... if you want, I want you to touch me, now. I-I want you to feel what you do to me. Would you?" Willow held her breath until she felt Tara's lips on the back of her neck, and her hand slowly move down over her stomach and across her waist.

Slowly, savoring every inch of the journey, Tara's fingers moved through Willow's dark red curls, tickling her slightly, before reaching the soft, yielding lips of her sex. Willow parted her thighs slightly, but otherwise held herself quite still, not wanting to do anything to distract Tara from what she was feeling. She was content to wait to make love, to endure the sweet, tantalizing longing for a little while more, but Tara's kiss had lit a fire inside her, the beauty of her drawing had fanned it, and Willow simply needed to have Tara touch her there once more. She wanted nothing more, but she knew she would be satisfied with nothing less. Tara's fingers moved over her sex, touching the wetness that had appeared there, touching with all the care in the world. Finally her palm pressed against Willow's curls, and her fingers stretched the length of her sex, cupped slightly to avoid putting too much agitating pressure on her clit, her fingertips resting around Willow's entrance further down.

"Ahhhh," Willow sighed, feeling her body react to Tara's touch, as though she had made everything in the world right. "You feel?" she whispered to Tara.

"I feel," Tara whispered back. Willow was mildly contemplating the end of the warming touch when the tip of Tara's index finger curled slightly, slipping just a fraction between the lips of her sex. She took two quick breaths before she could be entirely sure she wasn't about to thrust her hips down.

"Tara...?" she asked, not sure whether she was asking her to stop or continue.

"Do you w-want this?" Tara murmured. "Just this... d-do you?"

"Yesss," Willow hissed, opening her thighs a little more. Her fingers clawed the blankets as Tara's index finger slid slowly, tortuously slowly, into her sex, Willow's juices aiding her as she moved into her clenching tunnel. Finally, after a brief eternity, her hand rested against the lips of Willow's sex, and she was as deep as she could be inside her lover.

"Oh gods," Willow murmured, her heart hammering in her chest, "oh gods, oh Tara, my angel, my goddess, you're inside me, I can feel you inside me..."

"I'm inside you," Tara breathed right into Willow's ear. Somehow, even among the churning sensations, having Tara simply say the words lifted Willow higher.

"Oh my goddess," she whispered, "me'elas te'kin'las'sori..."

"That's right," Tara purred, "you're weeping oceans for me." Willow felt as though it was literal truth—she had never before been so wet short of climax, that through the myriad feelings emanating from Tara's finger, still motionless inside her, she thought she could feel her own juices trickling out of her sex, wetting Tara's hand and her own thighs. A single droplet ran down over the front of her thigh, and she shuddered, almost certain that her sex doubled its wetness just from the motion, from Tara's finger shifting slightly inside her as she trembled.

"Willow," Tara whispered, "I-I'm not ready to m-make you come, like this... if I do, I-I don't think w-we'll be able to stop... I want you to come, Willow... when I... I come out of you, w-will you t-touch yourself? Please?"

"Anything," Willow said, "oh gods Tara, I love you..."

"Come for me, Willow," Tara murmured, her finger moving insider Willow. Willow felt Tara press against her walls, at some spot she had never quite reached herself, and suddenly her eyes were closed, her mouth open, panting for breath, her heartbeat reverberating through her body, making her sex feel like it was pulsing, and as Tara's finger slid out of her, the need to feel release was too great to bear. Her hand went between her legs, as Tara's wet hand pressed against her stomach, and her other arm snuck underneath her to hug her, that hand flat against her chest, feeling her heartbeat. Willow exulted in Tara's tight hold, wasting no time in driving her index finger to the hilt in her own sex, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit at the same time. Normally that would have been enough, but the need Tara had created in her, the burning desire, demanded more from her. On the next outward thrust Willow lined her forefinger up alongside her index finger and buried both inside herself. It was something she only occasionally did, when the mood took her, and it always created reasonably spectacular results.

Now, though, with her palm stimulating her clit beyond endurance, with Tara's hands on her body, holding her tight, making her believe Tara could feel everything she did, and above all with the memory of Tara being inside her still so strong it was difficult to separate it from Willow's own penetration of herself, she felt herself break through some unknown boundary. She bit the blankets beneath her head hard to muffle her moan, and keep herself from screaming with joy, her sex gushed wetness over her fingers, and to Willow's mind, drowning in ecstasy, it seemed that Tara's tight, almost crushing embrace was all that kept her from literally exploding.

"Oh my gods," she panted, when the lights in her eyes stopped flashing and she had managed to unlock her jaws from their mouthful of blankets, "oh my gods... oh, my, gods!" she repeated again, stressing each word.

"I love you, my beautiful Willow," Tara murmured. Willow noticed that at some point she had returned her hug to the more relaxed embrace they slept in.

"Tara," she breathed, "do you...?"

"I'm fine," Tara promised, "don't worry, I'll make sure I get my turn... and w-we'll get our turn." Willow relaxed in Tara's arms, her breathing slowing back to normal.

"You know," she said quietly, "it seems like every time I come while you're holding me, or even just when I'm thinking about you, I'm over and done in the blink of an eye." She chuckled, and felt Tara laugh behind her.

"When w-we get a night of our own," Tara promised, "I'll make sure you're writhing for what'll seem like hours before you come." She pressed her lips to Willow's back, just below the base of her neck, and held them there for a long time, tickling Willow's skin with her tongue.

"Hours, huh?" Willow asked, slightly tempted to imagine it in so much detail that her hand would be back between her legs before she knew it.

"The first time," Tara said lightly, "then maybe I'll make you come again quickly."

"Oh?" Willow managed, glad she was already lying down, what with her legs going completely weak.

"But the third time," Tara breathed, "I'll really make it last..."

"Well," Willow said, "I know what I'll be dreaming of tonight."

"Me too," Tara replied, and Willow could practically hear her smile. "Goodnight Willow."

"Goodnight Tara. Sweet dreams."

"Always," Tara said, drowsily, "my dreams are always Willow-dreams." She dragged her fingers, still moist, across Willow's stomach, then lifted them and leaned over, so that Willow could just see her out of the corner of her eye, and watch as her perfect lips closed over her fingers and sucked them clean.

"And Willow-dreams," Tara went on, settling back behind her, "are always so, so sweet..."

Chapter 20

Tara dreamed of home, and always Willow was there with her: watching the sunrise over the snow fields on the slopes of Mount Karcheus, walking among the huge, ancient trees of Philios, lying on the island shore with the waters of the Great Ocean lapping around their naked bodies. Slowly the dreams turned into waking reality, the motion of the waves becoming the gentle rocking of the wagon, the warm sun and sand becoming Willow's nest of blankets beneath her and covering her, and dream-Willow becoming real Willow, stretched out against her, lightly kissing around her collarbone. Willow sensed Tara was awake, and gave her a little lick at the base of her neck in greeting.

"Good morning to you too," Tara murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"I was... having..." Willow said idly, between kisses, "this wonderful dream... earlier..."

"Oh?" Tara asked. "W-what about?"

"This," Willow said, kissing her again. "And this," she added, moving a little lower, tickling the top of Tara's cleavage with her tongue. "And this." She turned her head and kissed Tara right on the breast, her hand appearing to hold it firmly against her lips.

"And then what?" Tara breathed, her body suddenly very much awake.

"Then... I woke up," Willow murmured, "so I was thinking... if you want... we could see what happens next?" In response Tara wove her fingers into Willow's hair and gently held Willow to her breast as her lips resumed their explorations. Willow took both of Tara's breasts in her hands and massaged them, Tara encouraging her by arching her back, pressing herself into Willow's hands as the gentle holding turned into firm squeezing. Tara was torn between the sensations of Willow's forefingers and thumbs teasing her nipples, just as she had the night before—'She learns so fast,' she thought gleefully—and the heat of her mouth, slowly kissing its way up the curve of her right breast, her lips parting each time they pressed against her to allow her tongue to graze Tara's skin.

She stifled a groan of dismay as Willow, on the verge of kissing her nipple, moved her head to the other side of her chest and started working her way up that breast in the same maddeningly patient way. This time, when she was barely an inch from Tara's nipple, she began circling around it, kissing underneath her breast, then the other side, then above, then back down to nudge her breast upwards, licking the very sensitive skin on the underside. Tara tried to find a pattern in Willow's motions, to discern when she would finally reach her goal, but her mind was in no state to think. She had only brief instants between Willow's kisses, which allowed her to think of nothing else, and all the concentration she could muster in those intervals was being used to restrain her vocal appreciation of Willow's attention to an aroused sighing.

"Please, Willow," she whispered, "please... goddess, please..." Willow moved up to look in her eyes, both hands squeezing her intensely, holding Tara's breasts to press against her own as she laid her body out on top of her.

"Touch yourself?" Willow asked in a whisper. "Please, Tara? While I kiss you?" Tara nodded at once—a moment longer and she wasn't sure she would have been able to wait for Willow to ask, and in any case she knew there was nothing she wouldn't do for the smile on her lover's face as she reached down with her free hand. Willow ducked back beneath the blanket covering them and resumed her attentions on Tara's breasts, going back and forth, kissing and licking closer each time. When Tara's hand went between her legs Willow lay her stomach down on top of her forearm, so that every move Tara made with her hand was passed through the contact with Willow. Tara perversely teased herself for a long moment, stroking the sensitive skin where her inner thighs met her body, then running her fingers over the surface of her sex, keeping her thumb well clear of her clit for the moment. Even when she finally parted her lips she denied herself, letting the tip of her finger slide inside herself just a fraction, then pulling it back as her hips moved of their own accord, trying to deepen the penetration. Willow seemed to sense what she was doing, and began allowing brief, feather-light touches on her nipples, quickly and lightly licking them, her head bobbing from one side to the other. Tara made herself wait for Willow—the need she felt each time she refused to allow her sex more than a taste of satisfaction was nothing compared to the feel of Willow's mouth on her breasts.

Finally Willow relented, and Tara gasped and threw her head back as warmth closed over her, the warmth of Willow's mouth sucking on her nipple, her tongue caressing the nub of flesh between her lips. For a split second Tara felt as if her body had inverted itself, as if her own hand between her legs was just a mild stimulation, and her real orgasm was about to burst out of her chest into Willow's mouth. Then, with the rhythmic pressure of Willow's stomach on her wrist urging her on, she let her finger go deep within herself, and the real strength of her sexual urge came into play. She felt as if her arousal was moving through herself and Willow, she arching her back, thrusting herself up to Willow who licked and sucked her nipple with abandon, her lower body rocking against Tara's wrist, returning the arousal into Tara's sex through her hand. Tara felt her climax building with incredible speed.

"Not yet," Willow gasped in the brief interval as she moved to Tara's other breast, lavishing the same affection on it. Tara felt as though her hand and her sex were no longer entirely under her control—she thrust and curled her finger within herself, finally letting her thumb rub against her clit, circling and stroking it, but at the same time, despite the intense pressure building inside her, she believed it would be impossible for her to find release until Willow let her. The conflicting sensations—Willow bestowing such pleasure on her, giving her so much, while at the same time having such power over her—were intoxicating. Tara didn't know whether, in her mind, she was reclining regally for Willow to please, or giving herself over for Willow to feast on. Both images flitted through her thoughts, as she continued to feed Willow the pleasure she was thrusting into herself. The tiny part of her mind still capable of rational observation flatly refused to believe she hadn't reached climax already. Her sex felt voracious, hoarding the pleasure it should have released by now, and the thought of the flood of feeling building inside her was so erotic it was almost frightening.

Willow's word or no, Tara knew she couldn't contain herself much longer. Her entire body was tingling, and where there was stimulation of any kind, whether it was Willow's lips around her nipples, with her tongue working furiously, and her hands grasping both breasts in a massage of delightful intensity, or her own fingers on her aching sex, both inside herself and working her clit and her lips, of even just the contact of Willow's body on hers, where even amid the dizzying sensations she was aware of Willow's breasts against her stomach, her legs around Tara's, no matter where they touched Tara felt as if the gods were giving her body new life. Her climax built, and Willow, sensing it, looked up at the same moment as Tara lifted her head to look down, her eyes sparkling in the shadow of the blanket over her head, her parted lips breathing hot air over Tara's glistening nipple.

"Now," she said, before returning to bury her face in the softness of Tara's breasts, sucking her nipples as if she were trying to swallow them, lavishing attention on her with lips, tongue and hands. Tara felt something begin within herself, like the tremble of premonition before an avalanche, and buried her finger deep within herself as she rubbed her clit as hard as she could bear, bringing herself finally over the edge. It took all her self-control not to scream, such that she lost all control of her body and went completely limp beneath Willow, arms and legs useless, her hand on her sex moved only by Willow's gyrating stomach, all except for her core, which gathered all her pleasure, held it for a tortuous moment, then released it in a cataclysmic wave that turned her skin to heat, her bones to water and her blood to pure arousal. For a moment she forgot nearly everything, where she was, who she was, how she was touching herself and what Willow was doing to her—all she knew was that Willow was loving her, and as far as she could tell that had always been and would always be. A tightness in her chest reminded her to breathe, and brought her back to reality.

"Don't stop," Willow gasped. Tara had begun to move her hand away from her sex, but Willow caught it and pressed her soaked fingers onto her clit, and the pent-up sensitivity that would in a second more have made it too tender to comfortably touch flashed into a burning need to come again. Tara didn't fully understand what Willow wanted, only that her body did understand, and was complying without question. Her fingers, still wet with her own juices, moved around and over her clit in quick, desperate motions, her other hand squeezed her breasts which Willow had unaccountably left to their own devices, moving from one to the other, gathering the moisture Willow's mouth had left there. She felt another climax begin to build within herself, and wondered how it could exceed the first, then Willow's lips touched her sex, and she knew.

She was suspended for a moment in time, experiencing that first kiss to her sex, Willow's lips soft against her most intimate place, caring, loving, not demanding but merely asking, gently pleading for her climax. Tara felt herself tense to come again, then tentatively, almost shyly, Willow's tongue was parting her lips and tasting within her for the first time. Once more Tara became blind to everything around her and inside her except for Willow. Then she came, and felt everything in minute detail, in slowed time—her body exploding, bursting with pleasure and life, her sex tightening around the gentle intruder within it, the liquid proof of her arousal traveling within her in a tide, and Willow's lips opening to accept it.

"Goddess!" she yelled as she felt Willow drink from her sex, the sensation magnified in her mind out of all proportion, to herself gushing like a raging river, and Willow the ocean into which she flowed.

"Lady?" came a concerned voice from the other side of the canvas separating the inside of the wagon from the driver's seat at its front.

"Just praying!" Tara called out, without ever consciously forming the idea or the intention to speak. She then clamped her free hand over her mouth as Willow gently lapped up her arousal, setting off a series of trembling aftershocks in Tara's sex as she diligently cleaned every inch of skin she could find. Finally, after Willow had licked the entirety of Tara's sex, her inner thighs, her hand lying limp next to her clit, and a substantial portion of her waist and stomach where she couldn't possibly have gotten any of her juices, she moved up and peeked her head out of the blanket. Tara had just enough strength to wrap her arms around her as she settled beside her.

"Just praying?" Willow asked quietly. Tara again clamped her hand securely over her mouth, but could do nothing to prevent the fit of giggles she and Willow both collapsed into.

"Well," she gasped at last, keeping her voice down, "it seemed appropriate."

"Amazon gods do that sort of thing?"

"Oh yes," Tara said, stroking Willow's hair, "all the time. Athulua and Kethryes... Zerae and her husband Hefaetrus... and especially Elasia. She's the goddess of love... well," she corrected herself, "that's not quite accurate, all our gods feel love. Elasia is the goddess of sex."

"Wow," Willow murmured, "you've got one of those?"

"Absolutely," Tara said, "it's a very important part of life, just as much as the seasons, and the harvests."

"So that was a prayer to Elasia?" Willow grinned.

"That," Tara said languorously, "was you making me scream for joy." Willow grinned broadly and wriggled herself against Tara.

"Elasia blesses any..." Tara searched for the right word, "any sharing of pleasure between people. Even if it's two people who aren't truly in love having sex because they want to please each other. Elasia shares her love with people then, so that even when they aren't truly in love, they're never completely without love, either. But when two people are truly in love, and share their love, Elasia knows there's nothing she could do to make it any better."

"I love you so much," Willow whispered, burying her face in Tara's hair.

"I know," Tara said, "oh, goddess, I know. I love you, Willow. Even the gods couldn't give me love like this."

"Oh Tara," Willow sighed, "Tara, Tara... you know, at this rate we'll have nothing left to do when we finally get our own bedroom." Tara laughed with Willow, winding her fingers through her hair and stroking her.

"Oh I don't think so," she said, "I think we'll have plenty to do, once we don't need to worry about making too much noise, or bumping into the sides of the wagon." Willow looked up at her, and Tara gave her a sly, thoughtful grin.

"What've you got in mind?" Willow asked, narrowing her eyes with playful intensity.

"Well," Tara purred, "you know those kisses you like so much?"

"Oh yes," Willow said happily, "lots of those!"

"I thought," Tara said softly, interrupting Willow's glee for a moment, "I'd lie down between your legs, and kiss your sex just like that. And," she added, giving Willow a shy grin, "I won't stop until you climax." Willow was wide-eyed, and looked slightly stunned.

"Well," she gulped, "that'll take all of two seconds."

"Wait and see," Tara promised, "I think it'll be much, much longer... just as long as you can bear." She leaned over to whisper in Willow's ear: "And one second more." Willow shivered, which felt quite delightful to Tara as she was still lying tightly up against her.

"Speaking of arousing me to complete distraction," Willow said, "do you think it's possible for an Amazon to bring a sorceress to climax just by whispering in her ear?"

"One of these days I'll find out," Tara grinned.

"Very nearly today," Willow replied, leaning up on her elbows to kiss Tara. She took her time, Tara letting her tease and taste her mouth with contented patience, only occasionally trapping Willow's tongue between her teeth for an instant and licking it. Willow took full advantage of Tara's relaxed state, indulging herself in exploring Tara's lips, mouth and tongue at length and in detail.

"I didn't want to start the day without giving you a good morning kiss," Willow said matter-of-factly as she lay back down, her head on Tara's shoulder.

"Of course not," Tara replied, "seeing as you've kissed just about every other part of me already."

"Yeah, there is that," Willow admitted. "You know what? You taste absolutely divine." Tara felt herself blush. Willow kissed her again, just quickly, and sat up to reach behind herself for something. She turned back with a small package wrapped in paper and a gourd to find Tara shamelessly enjoying the view of her naked body.

"Considering another drawing?" she teased.

"Maybe," Tara allowed, "but you know, I-I kind of prefer drawing myself for you."

"Are you sure?" Willow asked playfully. "I could pose for you."

"You could," Tara said, "but I don't think I'd get any drawing done. What's that?"

"Breakfast," Willow said, unwrapping the package to reveal half a loaf of soft bread and another paper-wrapped object which turned out to be cheese. "Bread, cheese, there's an apple back there if you want it, and fruit juice. Tryptin dropped them off just after I woke up."

"Nice of him," Tara said, "I thought we'd missed breakfast. We're moving," she added, "what time is it?"

"Still at least couple of hours to midday," Willow said. "We got underway while you were asleep."

"I noticed when I woke up," Tara admitted, "but then, someone distracted me before I could think about it."

"Well, sorry about that," Willow grinned, "but you just looked good enough to eat."

"You don't need to be sorry at all," Tara assured her. "I've never in my entire life felt so, so loved, so cherished... so satisfied..." She sat up and knelt next to Willow, wrapping her arms around her waist. "I-I've never come so hard," she added with a bashful smile.

"Get used to it," Willow purred, grinning from ear to ear. She glanced down at the half-prepared breakfast. "You know, suddenly that doesn't look so appetizing anymore." Tara kissed her softly, just opening her mouth the fraction she needed to grab Willow's bottom lip and suck on it, then swatted her lightly on the bottom.

"Vixen," she said at Willow's surprised squeak.

"Guilty as charged," Willow admitted. "My poor tender bottom," she added, pouting adorably.

"Poor Willow," Tara said consolingly, "want me to kiss it better?" Willow's expression changed instantly from pretended sorrow to sincere satisfaction.

"Maybe later," she murmured with a smile. "We should eat, even if it is just boring old caravan food." She and Tara divided up the meal and made short work of it, both having something of an appetite from not having eaten until so late in the morning. Tara ended up leaning back against the side of the wagon, a blanket around her shoulders, with Willow sitting between her legs and leaning back on her, holding up an apple for her to take bites out of now and then.

"Not so bad," Willow said idly, finishing the last of the bread roll in her free hand. "Still, get me a fire and some pots and we'll have a proper meal some time."

"You cook?" Tara asked.

"Oh yeah," Willow said, "yeah, my mother started teaching me before I went to learn sorcery, and I kept dabbling in it over the years. Don't you?"

"Well, I can cook," Tara admitted, "but, you know, only if there's no alternative. I wouldn't say I'm better than average."

"It's a lot like magic," Willow went on, "sort of a mix of method and inspiration. Part of it is knowing what to do, which ingredients, how long to cook them, which flavors work and which don't... and part of it is just instinct. You feel how everything is coming together as you're cooking, and you just know what to do. I used to practice after lessons every day. It took a while—sometimes I ended up wishing I'd just gone to the dining hall like everyone else—but I'm pretty good at it now. When we get the chance I'll make you something. You don't eat meat, do you?"

"Not if I can avoid it," Tara said. "I mean, out in the wild you eat what'll keep you alive. I don't mind it, particularly, but I prefer not to."

"I've got a cream sauce that goes great with vegetables," Willow said, "and given a couple of spices you'll just love what I can do with carrots."

"I bet I would," Tara purred. Willow missed the meaning of the comment for a moment, but after nodding vaguely she sat bolt upright and spun around, looking amusingly scandalized.

"Tara!" she protested, trying not to laugh. Tara licked her lips seductively, then couldn't help herself any longer and fell sideways, laughing as she hit the blankets. Willow jumped on top of her.

"You naughty little minx!" she proclaimed, straddling Tara's hips.

"Who's little?" Tara laughed. "I'm taller than you."

"Not when you're lying down you're not," Willow declared hotly, shifting herself up to Tara's waist to keep her from getting away, and tickling her sides. Tara writhed beneath her, laughing herself silly and in no condition to defend herself. Her efforts to catch Willow's wrists, or at least tickle her in return, were hampered by her distraction at feeling the warmth of Willow's sex pressing down on her stomach.

"You're enjoying this," she said, after managing to gulp down a breath of air between giggles.

"You bet I am," Willow replied. She gave Tara some respite, sitting back on her heels and looking down at Tara beneath her.

"Well," she said appreciatively, "I can see one way you're definitely not 'little'." Tara followed Willow's gaze down to herself. She wriggled a little, enjoying Willow's aroused "Mmm" as her breasts wobbled.

"One thing I don't understand," Willow went on, laying herself down on top of Tara's legs, with her head resting on her stomach, "is how you don't just lock yourself in your room and play with yourself all day." Tara laughed, which caused her chest to shudder quite expressively, and Willow to "Mmm" again.

"I-I never really thought about them," Tara admitted, "they're just, you know... me. A bit bigger than most of the other girls, not too big to fit into armor and use a longbow with. There was a little while when I was, um, developing a bit earlier than most of the girls, and I felt a bit awkward... but apart from that, u-until you came along, they were just... my breasts. Nothing special."

"Nonsense," Willow said lazily, "everything about you is special, and that most certainly includes your luscious, soft, beautiful, abundant," she started drawing circles around Tara's breast with a finger, "warm, sensual, yielding," she poked Tara gently to demonstrate, "smooth, wonderful, bountiful, flawless," Tara was gazing down at Willow, wondering how long she could go on, "inviting, tempting, titillating, hah, luscious, oh wait, I already said that, doesn't matter, they're worth saying it twice... where was I?"

"Luscious, and titillating before that," Tara murmured, utterly entertained by Willow's ongoing declaration.

"Oh yeah, that's right," Willow said, "I'd just started on all the adjectives about how every time I see you naked I just want to leap into your arms and feel your breasts in my hands, and wrap my legs around your waist, and kiss you, and I'm getting sidetracked... I've lost my train of thought again."

"I-I think you were saying you like my breasts," Tara grinned.

"Well, just so long as you've got the idea," Willow allowed. She kissed Tara's navel, wriggling her tongue around for a moment, then shuffled up her body and laid her head down on her breasts.

"Mmm, I can hear your heart," she murmured. "This'd be a lovely way to go to sleep... it's not uncomfortable, is it?"

"Not at all," Tara said, "b-but isn't it a little early to be going back to sleep? I mean, we just woke up..."

"Not now," Willow explained, "I was just adding the idea to my list of things to do. I'm making a list in my head, 'Things to do with naked Tara'. It's quite extensive."

"Really?" Tara asked.

"Oh yeah... let's see, go to sleep using Tara-breasts as pillow, that'll be number... one hundred thirty-eight."

"You have an orderly mind," Tara observed.

"I do indeed," Willow agreed, "most of the time. Except when you kiss me, then my brain sort of melts, and the best thought I can come up with is 'mwaaa'."

"Mwaaa?"

"Something like that," Willow said, "it's difficult to concentrate."

"When I kiss you?" Tara asked seductively.

"It starts when you kiss me," Willow clarified, "although, sometimes even earlier..."

"Come here, my love," Tara breathed. Willow lifted herself up and leaned over Tara, lowering her lips for Tara to kiss. The way Tara kissed her, she felt as if her lips were the only truly real part of her, that their kiss was anchoring her to the world, and without it she'd be blown away on some ethereal breeze. Tara lifted her head, probing into Willow's mouth, making full use of her remarkably agile tongue to reach every corner. While it lasted, Willow was no more able to pull away from the kiss than she was to leave her own body—she lifted herself up over Tara, as high as she could, then arched her back, pressing their bodies together, then laid herself out along the length of Tara's body, writhing slowly to gain as much contact as she could. Finally, with one last tug at Willow's lip, Tara released her and lay her head back down.

"Mwaaa," Willow said, resting her head on Tara's shoulder, enjoying the sound of her laughter, and the way Tara's body moved beneath her.

The caravan halted for lunch, to rest its animals for the afternoon's long haul to the next town and to give its passengers a chance to stretch their legs. A stream passed fifty feet from the road, in clear sight of it, so Willow and Tara both took the opportunity to wash some of their clothes, trusting the cloudless sky to the north not to rain on them while they were drying later. After lunch Tara spoke with Tryptin for a while, and he passed on what he knew about the schedule the Duncraig ambassadors had decided on, while Willow made an effort to catch up on her studies and start work on a report to send from Duncraig, having fallen behind in her own self-imposed schedule due to unforeseen distractions.

"Unforeseen distractions?" Tara asked when Willow told her. "I'm an unforeseen distraction now?"

"I was thinking of the whole demon-summoning incident," Willow corrected her with a grin, "but if I were going to blame you for not getting any work done, you'd be more of a 'delightful I've-found-my-purpose-in-life distraction'. I don't think the Zann Esu really need me to tell them that much detail anyway, it's not like they're watching over my shoulder exactly. They'll probably be surprised I'm writing a progress report at all."

The weather held fine during the afternoon, allowing them to roll up the roof of the wagon and ride in comfort with the sun on their faces. Tara set to work with pen and paper once more, teasing Willow that she wanted a visual record of their morning activities. Willow leapt across the wagon, blushing furiously, to find a landscape of the Kingsway highlands taking shape on Tara's page.

"You enjoy teasing me altogether too much," she protested playfully, picking up her fallen book and replacing it in its satchel. Tara merely raised an eyebrow and kept her eyes on her work. Willow lay down with her head in Tara's lap and hummed to herself for a while, basking in the sunlight and the soft caress of Tara's fingers through her hair whenever she paused to consider her drawing.

"Where are we staying tonight?" she asked after a short while.

"Sorenstad," Tara replied absently, tapping the back of her pen against her bottom lip thoughtfully, "it's more or less the northern border of the Kingsport realm. Beyond this the people are spread pretty thin until we get to Duncraig's southern outposts. We'll be staying at the inn tonight," she added, glancing down at Willow with a grin.

"Inn as in with separate rooms?" Willow enquired, suddenly very interested.

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "Tryptin mentioned that most of the caravan would be in communal bedrooms, but he said he thought they'd probably have a private room for the ladies."

"How private?" Willow purred.

"We'll have to wait and see," Tara said.

Sorenstad was a small town with farmland stretching for miles around it. However, all its people seemed to have moved behind the high earth and wood stockade surrounding the town proper—as the caravan made its way slowly through the single gateway and into the inn's yard, both Willow and Tara stared around at the mass of humanity crowding the small town, at the lean-tos and makeshift shacks that surrounded nearly every permanent building, and the men, women and children having their evening meals on stools and tables by the roadside outside their temporary lodgings, for want of space within.

"I wonder if the inn will have room for us," Tara murmured to herself. Willow took her hand, looking sympathetic. They gathered the gear that was too valuable to leave to the wagons, even with an unlucky few of the caravan guards on night watch—Willow's books, Tara's spear—and dropped down off the wagon as it rolled into the yard, the driver slotting it neatly into the space between one of the Duncraig wagons and the side of the inn and getting down to see to the horses. Tara, with Willow in tow, wandered towards the inn's front, where Tryptin was in discussion with a burly harassed-looking man who they took for the innkeeper. They caught only a word or two—"unforeseen" and "trying times" from the innkeeper, "can't be helped" from Tryptin—before he signaled to the lieutenant of the caravan guards and shook hands with the innkeeper. He spotted Willow and Tara, and paused by them on his way back to the wagons.

"Miss Willow," he said politely, with a nod of greeting for Tara. "The inn is more crowded than they're used to," he explained, "they have enough beds for us, but barely. There's only one spare private room though, and you'll be sharing it with a woman and her child. Um, the room's only fitted for two," he added, looking slightly sheepish, "you don't mind sharing a bed?"

"Of course not," Tara said, squeezing Willow's hand to communicate her shared disappointment.

"Thank you," Tryptin said sincerely, "I'm sorry about this, I hoped for better, but there's little we can do. Some of the emissaries will be sleeping in the wagons as it is, although I dare say they'll be comfortable enough. Oh, while I think of it, I'll be sending Melcan down to the general store in a while to buy some extra blankets, just in case it gets cold tonight, could you use a few more? It'll be a few days to the next town, and we'll be moving further into the highlands."

"Thank you," Tara said.

"That's very kind," Willow added.

"Well, that's what I'm here for," Tryptin said, shrugging off the praise, "keep everyone happy and safe until we get home again. I've asked the innkeeper to show you to your room once he's finished talking to our lieutenant. There's a dining room here, but I'd recommend taking something up to your room from the supply wagon, it's liable to be a bit crowded and I can't say how good the food will be. Come to me if you need anything," he added, turning back to the caravan.

"Thanks," Willow called after him. "No room of our own?" she grumbled to Tara. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm sorry sweetie," Tara said.

"Hey, I'm the one who should be sorry," Willow argued, "considering how I woke you up... I kind of figured we'd have tonight to ourselves."

"It's okay," Tara said warmly, "I'm fine, really."

"Really?" Willow asked. "Sharing a room with strangers?"

"I just have to think, would I rather be here with you," Tara explained, "or absolutely anywhere else in the world. That's not even a choice. Besides," she added, leaning over to whisper in Willow's ear, "I'm not the one who wasn't satisfied this morning."

"Oh I was satisfied plenty," Willow assured her. "Sated, you might say. If you're fine, I'm fine. Now let's go get us a room."

"Sounds good," Tara said. Willow nodded, then got a curious look in her eyes.

"'Sweetie'?" she asked. Tara grinned.

"Because you're so sweet," she whispered, "in all sorts of ways."

"So are you," Willow replied in a hushed voice, "and believe me, I'm in a position to know. Or, at least, I was in a position to know earlier, and I intend to be again as soon as possible. When's the next town due?"

"Five days, I think," Tara said. "Willow, do you... I-I mean, if it makes you, you know, worked up, w-would you prefer I didn't talk about... well, tease you so much?"

"Absolutely not," Willow said firmly, "I may end up being driven so nuts they'll have to put me in an asylum once we get to Duncraig, but gods it's wonderful!" Tara smiled broadly.

"Good," she said, "I'm glad. I-I like it too... I like making you blush," she admitted.

"Me too," Willow agreed. "I mean, you making me blush... and me making you blush, also, so I didn't really need to clarify that," she went on to herself, "'cause whichever way you took it, it still would've been right..."

"You have an easier job," Tara noted, "I blush easily."

"Yeah, you're real shy," Willow said, "right up to the point where you start making love to me like you're going to devour me."

"M-making love?" Tara asked.

"Well, you know," Willow explained, "I know we haven't, but I was thinking earlier, we kind of have... I mean, there's not a lot we haven't, um, shared between us, you know? A-and the way it feels, even if it's just a kiss, it's like... you've made love to me, you really have. I feel like you've given me all of yourself."

"I have," Tara whispered, "and I-I feel the same..."

"So, I guess," Willow went on, "I feel like we have made love, in all sorts of ways... a-and there's ways we haven't, yet, of course, but... I mean, if I had to choose, I'd rather just be with you, just together, like sitting on a bench in a park, or walking through a market holding hands, I'd rather that, and feel loved the way you make me feel, than have sex in every mind-blowing way humanity's ever thought of, if I didn't feel loved. It's just... it's you," she finished with a tiny, sweet smile, "you *are* love."

"Oh Willow," Tara murmured, "goddess, you are so wonderful... I love you, I wish I had words for how much."

"You do," Willow promised, "in your eyes, you do." Tara stared at her in complete adoration.

"If we weren't standing in the middle of a town," she whispered, "I would kiss you, right now, so much..."

"I know," Willow said, "I really do." She hugged Tara briefly, then held her hand as they walked towards the supply wagon. Behind them, the innkeeper had just finished talking to the lieutenant.

"When we get a room of our own," Tara said, "I'm still going to think of it as our first night, though."

"Yeah, me too," Willow agreed, "it'll always be special."

"Speaking of all sorts of mind-blowing ways of making love," Tara whispered in Willow's ear, "remind me later to tell you about the Books of Elasia."

"Elasia has books?" Willow asked, very interested. "How many? Are they... like, detailed books?"

"Very detailed," Tara said, "very long, and there's about a hundred of them."

"And they're..." Willow prompted.

"They're not the kind of thing I can tell you about in a public place," Tara grinned.

"Oh," Willow said, eyes wide, "and you've read them?"

"Not yet," Tara said, "but one day, maybe... if you want, of course... if we go back home, to Tran Athulua, we could read them together?"

"Consider it done," Willow said, keeping her voice low as they approached the innkeeper. Tara smiled to herself, slightly oblivious to the world around her. She hadn't realized, when she had thought of reading the books together, that a simple teasing suggestion would actually involve asking Willow to come with her half-way around the world. The way Willow had agreed without even a shadow of hesitation, and the sincerity in her voice, telling Tara she knew exactly what she was saying, filled her heart with joy.

Continued...

Send Feedback to Author