Elixir Part 5
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M
Mal stood and stretched, not entirely eager to get back on his mount. Though he had made light of his folded legs alongside Anora, delighting in her laughter, his legs did not enjoy being cramped like that for hours. Better than walking, he knew, the snow alone would have made the trek difficult.
Folded up on his pony, he pondered the amulet. A Hedronic Shield, he mused, not something even a sorcerer like his father could forge. He wondered if there was a reason it was handed down through the female line and if perhaps more than the amulet had been given to each generation. He glanced at Anora, his mind churning. She had said her mother was a scholar, but he could say the same about himself. He wondered if her mother had been more like him than just a seeker of knowledge, if she too had been able to wield magic, and whether Anora could as well.
His mind full of endless questions, he turned his attention to their surroundings. They were descending into a snow dusted valley, a forest quickly approaching. Unlike the birch trees of the woods he knew, these were a collection of evergreens, their spiky boughs weighed down by clumps of snow. As they approached he glanced back at Anora. Her amulet hung outside her cloak and the stone had changed to an amber color. A smart choice, he realized, if there were threats in this forest.
Beneath the snow laden trees, Mal felt the ponies’ pace increase, much to his joints’ dismay. The forest floor was covered in pine needles, but was relatively free of snow, resulting in less difficulty for them. Even though it was barely past noon on a clear sunny day, it was like twilight in the forest, the thickly packed branches blocking out the sun’s light. The path through the forest meandered like a stream and he was glad he didn’t have to worry about tripping on the numerous tree roots in the gloom.
Hours passed in silence as they made their way through the hushed forest and he could tell Anora was just as alert for danger as he was. Something is out there, his nerves seemed to whisper, trouble is out there. They heaved a collective sigh when they finally cleared the forest, sharing a glance and tentative smiles. The village lay before them now, the collection of thatched cottages a welcome sight after the forest. Mal encouraged his pony forward, eager to find the inn and learn where he might acquire the ingredient he needed.
After handing the ponies to a young stable boy to be cared for, Mal pushed open the door to the inn. The inn was smaller than the lodge, he noted, but what it lacked in size it made up for in warmth. Tables crowded the room, each full of boisterous patrons enjoying an evening meal with plenty of drink. Three young ladies in matching dresses navigated the narrow spaces between, their hands full of various platters and pitchers. An older woman in similar garb stood at the bar, her eyes sharp as she monitored the crowds. Mal watched her gaze flick to him and a grin split her weathered face.
“Welcome travelers,” she greeted warmly, “welcome to the Wyvern’s Roost. Come, have a seat and warm yourselves.” She herded them gently towards the fire where a long bench waited. “Will says you have two ponies, hardy ones, so I gather you came from the lodge.” Mal nodded.
“We are looking to purchase some Liatris,” he explained, “ideally fresh, but dried root would be acceptable. I’ve been told this valley has some of the finest available.” He watched the woman consider his request, her eyes calculating, then added, “of course that can wait until tomorrow when your markets open. My companion and I would appreciate a room for the night, though if you are full we can stay in the stables.” He glanced at Anora who had just removed her hood.
“Oh good heavens no,” the woman replied, “I’ll not have you and your lady friend in the barn. I would sooner kick one of these louts into the snow.” Mal hid a smirk as she turned the conversation to payment for the room and whether they would like some of this evening’s stew. Mal pondered for a moment before agreeing to the stew. The woman somehow found them a free table and quickly went to fetch their meal. Mal noticed Anora’s raised eyebrow and knew she was wondering about the stew.
“It’ll help us get the Liatris,” he explained, “if I act stingy here they may not wish to sell to me or may skimp on the quality.” He watched Anora nod in understanding and smile.
“With coin be neither stingy nor overly free, and a friend to you all will be,” she quoted quietly, “my mother’s words.” Mal smiled, but found it strained. The structure of the quote matched basic incantations he had learned, giving further weight to the theory Anora came from a line of magic users. His contemplation was quickly interrupted by a steaming bowl being placed in front of him, a chunk of fresh bread beside it. Their hostess had brought a larger pitcher with two mugs as well.
“Eat up loves,” she encouraged, “drink is regular cider in case there’s a bun in yer hun.” She winked at him and placed a key on the table. “Room 3 is for you sweetlings tonight.” He could barely thank her before she was off to break up an argument in the far corner. His mind stalled at her words and the flush on Anora’s cheeks told him she was having the same issue.
“A bun? She th-thinks we…” Anora stammered, turning steadily redder as she stared at her stew. Mal was probably blushing too if the heat of his cheeks was any indication. The thought sat warm in him though, equal parts eager and unsure. A family, he realized, was something he had always wanted, one full of warmth and love. He could almost see it with her which didn’t help his blushing in the least.
A
Anora sat in shock, her steaming bowl of stew waiting in front of her. She had heard of young lovers having a telling glow about them that older women could somehow see, but she had thought it was merely the result of gossip. There was no gossip about her and Mal, she knew, unless the squirrels and birds could speak here. She was embarrassed and beyond flustered, but she found the thought of that ‘bun’ to be pleasant, especially when she considered the kind of father Mal would be.
A shy glance at Mal showed his cheeks were a dark pink, but there was a soft smile on his face. He’s thinking about it too, she realized, and it’s not unpleasant for him either. Dropping her gaze back to her stew, she picked up her spoon, determined to enjoy the meal before it grew cold. She saw Mal mirror her as she took her first bite.
The stew was rich and earthy, full of vegetables cooked to a tenderness that made them melt on her tongue. Strips of meat were plentiful amongst the vegetables and equally as tender. The flavor was hard to place and she must have had a puzzled look on her face because Mal chuckled.
“I believe it’s lamb,” he volunteered, “the mountains here are not suitable for cattle, but sheep and goats are plentiful. My mother was fond of the cheese made up here.” She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. She knew sharing such memories was hard for him, but it warmed her heart that he was willing to share them with her in spite of the pain.
Anora leaned back, her bowl thoroughly cleaned thanks to the ample bread it came with. The cider had been good, though she found herself thinking Mal’s had been better. Mal was finished as well and she could feel a shift in the crowd around them. They were not the only group to stand and head to their room as a few drunks in the crowd started singing a rather bawdy song off key. She had no idea what the maiden in the tune was doing with a bear of all things, but the crowd seemed to enjoy the song and eagerly joined in the chorus.
As she entered the room behind Mal, her eyes immediately fell on the bed. It was a larger bed than the lodge had and it filled the tiny room. No room for a bedroll on the floor here, she realized, though she had to admit a part of her was glad there wasn’t. She focused her attention on getting ready for bed, trying to ignore the butterflies inside her at the thought of sharing a bed with Mal.
M
Mal froze as he entered the room. He had suspected the innkeeper had given them a room with one bed, but he had figured there would be room on the floor like the lodge. He glanced at the meager space around the bed and took a deep breath. He would be sharing the bed with Anora tonight, he realized, his heart pounding in his ears at the thought. A glance at her helped calm him as she was simply readying herself for bed, no signs of panic. Taking another deep breath, he decided to follow her lead and prepare for bed taking care to keep his back turned so she had some privacy.
Slipping into his side of the bed had taken more nerve than he expected. His looser pants felt far too thin especially when he saw her outfit. A soft sleeveless blouse of pale pink exposed the skin of her delicate arms and neck, but it was the matching bottoms that had his brain falling apart. They were pants of some sort, he noticed, just… short. Incredibly, brain meltingly short, exposing her legs all the way up to the middle of her thighs. Thighs that seemed to be as dusted in freckles as her arms and had his brain wondering if the two groups of freckles connected along her front or back.
He shook the thought away before he went further with it. Perhaps allowing her access to his mother’s magic-laden wardrobe was not as wise as he had originally thought. His mouth went dry at a buried memory. His mother had once mentioned to his father she was going to wear the ‘lacy black one’ for him as a birthday treat. Mal found himself grateful that hadn’t been Anora’s choice tonight considering the mess this one was making of his thoughts, but a small voice in him whispered that one day he would very much enjoy seeing her in something black and lacy.
The bed was blissfully soft and he suspected that they had been given the best bed in the inn as he settled onto his side facing Anora. He watched slightly dazed as she pulled the covers down to climb into bed. He felt the sheet covering him slide, uncovering him to his waist. He watched her realize and couldn’t help the smirk that slid onto his face as her eyes roamed the view she had revealed. She liked what she saw, he realized, and it sent a thrill through him. She smiled shyly at him, her blue eyes sparkling beneath her lowered lashes. The look sent heat coursing through him and he could barely swallow around the lump suddenly in his throat. He watched her slip beneath the sheets, a sigh escaping her as she sank into the plushness. He lay trembling from the overwhelming emotions roiling in him and barely could flick his wrist to snuff the candles properly.
A
Anora found herself slowly coming to terms with the fact her cheeks would forever be flushed. She got into a fairly modest set of night wear though it still felt incredibly daring to her. Mal’s mother, she decided, had wielded her night clothes like weapons if the numerous selection of barely there bits of lace were any indication. The thought of wearing any of them in Mal’s presence was fervently avoided because she knew crimson would be her skin tone right to her toes if she did.
She heard him slip into bed as she stood, her outfit only reaching the middle of her thighs. She could hear his breath catch and a small part of her thrilled at the sound. Silk, she decided, could be as much a weapon as steel in the right hands. She finished readying for bed, keenly aware that Mal’s breathing was still rather uneven. She could practically feel his gaze taking in the view she presented, far more skin on display than she had ever shown before. She was surprised by how good it felt to know he was looking and liking what he saw.
Sliding into bed meant turning towards him so she took a steadying breath and turned. Mal lay on his side, head propped up with one hand. His hair hung loose creating rivers of ebony down his shoulders and chest. Her brain stalled as she realized he was shirtless, every smooth plane of his upper chest on display. She blinked, desperately trying to regain some degree of composure. Her hands gripped the covers and pulled them with the intention of climbing into bed. However, she belatedly realized they were the same sheets covering him and as she pulled her section down his section followed, revealing the rest of his bare chest as well as the firm muscles of his stomach. She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry at the sight. She had seen a few men shirtless over the years, but those sun-scorched, hairy laborers couldn’t prepare her for the lean, sculpted beauty before her.
A smirk appeared on his face though his eyes seemed a bit dazed. Smiling shyly, she tilted her head down and gazed up through her lashes before slipping into bed. The thick swallow she heard as she got comfortable was proof she had likely succeeded in giving what she had overheard one girl call ‘bedroom eyes’.
She sighed as she settled into the soft, plush bed. She had to admit it wasn’t quite as plush as the crimson luxury in Mal’s home, but it was definitely softer than the bedroll. A flick from Mal snuffed the candles and the room was ready for sleep. Sleep was far from her as she listened to the faint sounds of the merrymaking downstairs. Her heartbeat sounded loud in her ears and her skin prickled, keenly aware that nothing save empty air stood between her hand and Mal’s bare skin.
She nearly squeaked in surprise when she felt Mal’s hand tentatively brush hers. She entwined her fingers with his, grateful for the familiar contact. She turned to him, barely able to see in the darkened room. Moonlight reflecting off the snow outside helped her see his general form and his dark eyes faintly glittered, but reading his expression was impossible.
She felt him stroke his thumb along the back of her hand, wordlessly offering comfort and familiarity. She squeezed lightly and he brought her hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. A soft tug followed, a silent beckoning to come closer. She listened, scooting closer until she could feel the warmth of him, not quite ready to meet skin.
A kiss to her temple thanked her and she tipped her head up, her lips gently parting in her own wordless request. His answering kiss was soft and sweet and she drank him in eagerly. She found boldness in the taste of him and her hands dove into his silky hair, one sliding to the back of his neck to pull him closer.
M
Mal burned, every nerve alight with sensation as Anora pulled him flush against her. He had tried to keep the kiss gentle at first, but now he was drowning, her lips pulling him down into a maelstrom of desire and need. His pulse hammered as his hands caressed silk and skin, his thoughts narrowing to just one word that thrummed along to the rhythm of his heartbeat. More.
More touching, more kissing, more of her. He felt drunk on her, his mind buzzing and clouded. He let his lips trail kisses along her jaw and down her neck, hungry to taste every inch of skin she allowed him to access. The sounds she made as he did shot molten heat into him, the soft moans a caress down his spine.
Her hands were far from idle, sliding along the contours of his shoulders, his chest, and down to his abdomen. He felt her pause at his pants and wondered if she would stop like before, but she slid her fingers along the waistband to his back, her fingers leaving searing heat in their wake. Up his back those fingers climbed as she kissed him hungrily. He shifted, gently positioning himself above her as trailed kisses down to her collarbone and ran his nose along the daring neckline of her top, reaching the matching collarbone on her left side and kissing his way back up to her lips.
Anora arched beneath him, her moans no longer soft, but wild and needy. He barely had time to process the shift as her fingers descended his back, nails digging and scraping as they made their way down. It should have hurt, he knew, for it was far from gentle, but instead something snapped inside him. The sound that emerged from his throat was feral, a primal animalistic growl that rumbled through him like thunder. His kisses became rougher as he pressed his body against her, his desire evident in spite of the bagginess of his pants.
His breathing became deep and ragged, as if he were running a race. He ignored the shift, his focus solely on the woman beneath him. A shudder hit his lungs, causing him to pause. Another shudder hit and he coughed. Wet, hacking coughs, one after the other, tore at him as he rolled over, curling up in an attempt to hold himself together. Warm arms wrapped around him as he struggled to catch his breath. Gentle caresses and soft kisses helped ease his frustration with himself as the fit subsided. He tried to apologize to her, but she merely shushed him, her fingers combing through his hair. Exhausted from the coughing, he leaned his head against her shoulder and curled into her embrace. The warmth of her surrounded him, her tender touches soothing him as he slipped into slumber.
A
Anora stroked her fingers through Mal’s hair as she felt him slip into an exhausted sleep. Her body was still cooling down from the intense heat Mal’s kissing had ignited. She knew better than to fault him for the abrupt end to their intimacy, but she worried he would still blame himself. Laying in the dark, Mal’s breathing even with sleep, Anora found herself replaying his animalistic growl that had vibrated through her as she pressed herself against him. The sound should have frightened her, but instead it had driven her to rub herself against him, her body throbbing in a way she’d never experienced before. Her lips felt bruised from the roughness of his kisses, but it was a pleasant pain and one she found herself eager to repeat once the cloud was extracted from Mal’s lungs. Anora closed her eyes, thoughts of Mal’s fiery kisses and touches chasing her as she fell asleep snuggled in his arms.
Morning dawned gray and dreary, a steady rain beating against the window of their room. Anora watched Mal as he packed away their sleep clothes, worry creasing her brow. He hadn’t spoken since they woke yet, but his actions were stiff and angry. Not angry at her, she knew, but at himself. She dressed quickly then let out a huff. She saw him glance at her, his gaze turning wary as she stalked over to him. She grabbed the front of his tunic and forced him to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyes went wide in shock as he sat, her tiny frame now towering over him. She took a deep breath and gently took his face into her hands.
“Last night,” she said firmly, “was NOT your fault. I am not mad at you and you shouldn’t be either.” She saw him about to argue so decided to silence him with a kiss. It didn’t take long for him to kiss back, his arms wrapping around her.
M
Mal woke feeling just as bleak as the rainy morning outside. Pathetic failure, a voice in his head insisted, sounding so much like his father Mal almost expected to see him in the room. He looked at Anora curled up in his arms and tried to relax, but he just felt too angry. Sighing, he slipped out of bed and got dressed. He heard Anora shift in bed as he packed, but he was too focused on his self criticism to look up.
The pink night clothes landed by his foot and he threw them into the proper pouch. He heard an irritated huff and looked up. She was stalking towards him, her determination practically tangible, and a part of him was sure he was in for a tongue lashing. Her hand snatched the front of his tunic and yanked. He was caught completely off balance and her dominant shoves forced him to sit on the bed. He looked up at her, his eyes wide with surprise as she loomed in front of him. He couldn’t tell if she was angry at him or not so he wisely kept his mouth shut.
Her delicate frame rose and fell dramatically as he watched her take a deep breath, awaiting whatever punishment she was about to unleash. He certainly felt he deserved it after last night’s horrible mishap. Hands gently cupped his face, his gaze locking with hers.
“Last night,” she said firmly, “was NOT your fault. I am not mad at you and you shouldn’t be either.” Mal blinked. He was sure he deserved punishment for his failure, not such fervent denial of blame. Soft, warm lips swallowed his argument before he could voice it. His anger drained away as his lips eagerly responded, his arms wrapping around her. Perhaps she was right, he mused, it was the spell to blame more than him even if it was his blunder that caused it to begin with.
He let himself relish her warmth and affection, soaking in every kiss and touch she offered. Far too soon she pulled back, a soft smile on her lips. He found himself smiling back as she pulled him up off the bed. Gathering up his pack, he made his way downstairs, Anora following close behind.
The inn was far less crowded than it was the night before though the servers were still busy, platters of steaming food held aloft as they bustled about. Mal felt his mouth water as a platter laden with huge sausages went by, practically right under his nose. They found a table in a quieter corner and waited.
The wait was barely noticeable to Mal and soon the cheerful matron from last night was at their table, two steaming plates in hand. Two drinks were placed beside each plate then the woman hurried off to attend a group that entered the inn. The first drink was easily identified as cider while the other was a steaming dark red liquid Mal had only encountered in court. He looked at Anora, curious if she recognized the drink.
A
Anora stared at the steaming plate before her. She had never seen sausages so large before. The white cubes and bits of red and green in what looked like mashed egg also confused her, but not as much as the steaming cup beside her glass of cider. It looked like red wine, yet obviously wasn’t. She had a sneaking suspicion Mal knew what it was since he sat watching her instead of digging into his food. She noticed his mood had lightened, but last night still seemed to be bothering him.
“All right oh courtly one,” she quipped, “enlighten this lowly peasant on the exotic meal before her.” Much to her delight, he mirrored her playfulness as he informed her in surprising detail. She sampled each selection as he did, enjoying both the food and the information immensely. She saw many of her mother’s habits in Mal, she realized, from the way his eyes would sparkle when sharing his knowledge to the way he never skimped on details. It was not just merely a cup of tea to him, but a blend of black tea that used oil from the rind of a citrus fruit called bergamot, and she found herself fascinated with every new fact he shared.
The rich meal sat warm in her as she stretched. The inn had slowly emptied as each group finished their meals and headed out into the rain. She was not looking forward to being out in the cold, damp weather, but they needed to get the root and head home. She paused, stunned, realizing she had unconsciously referred to Mal’s tower as home. Her line of thought was quickly interrupted by the innkeeper returning to their table.
“Hello again loves,” she greeted warmly, “you mentioned looking to buy some Liatris yesterday. You’ll be wanting to stop in the Mortar and Pestle and ask for Vivi. Tell her Lynn sent you.” Anora smiled as Mal thanked Lynn and tried to pay for the breakfast only for her to shake her head. “On the house,” she insisted, “you two need some more meat on your bones.” With a wink, she left them, their empty dishes skillfully balanced on her tray.
Anora stood, shouldering her pack, and raised her hood. She paused at the door, steeling herself to step out into the steady downpour outside. Warm fingers entwined with hers and squeezed encouragingly.
The roads were a mess of melting snow and mud despite the cobblestones and Anora wished they hadn’t left the ponies at the inn stables, but the sign for the shop they wanted was so close it had seemed silly to drag them along. Soon enough they reached the Mortar and Pestle, its bell ringing brightly as they entered. Anora felt immediately overwhelmed by the fragrant shop and its mountains of jars and vials on tables and shelves. Clumps of drying herbs hung from the rafters and Anora watched Mal repeatedly duck and weave around the low hanging ingredients. She followed Mal to the back counter where a black cat lay curled up, its green eyes gazing sleepily at them. Anora didn’t see anyone, but Mal didn’t seem concerned.
“We are here to see Vivi,” he said to the cat, “Lynn sent us.” Anora could have sworn she saw the cat nod before it stretched and jumped down. She watched as it headed to the back room and moments later a young woman stepped out.
“Nyx said Lynn sent you?” Anora blinked, surprised. She watched as Mal didn’t miss a beat and explained exactly what he needed. Vivi nodded and looked through the dozens of plants lining the shelves along the back wall. Picking up one with giant purple plumes, she headed back to them. “It may be useful to have a fresh plant on hand,” she suggested, “most elixirs only use a small portion of the root and a well cared for plant can supply you with enough for dozens of elixirs. The flowers are also frequently used in teas and poultices so they may be of use to you as well.” Anora found herself tuning out the discussion as the cat, Nyx, returned to the counter. She held out her hand, allowing Nyx to give it a sniff. She smiled as the cat seemed to approve, eagerly nuzzling her hand and allowing her to stroke its ebony fur.
I’ll admit I was not sure where that steamy scene was going when I wrote it, but I think it does a nice job of showcasing their relationship dynamic. Feel free to let me know your thoughts on that scene or any other parts of my story.
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Another great chapter! Nicely done :-)