I love me some gen threads, especially funny or drama-filled ones, but I am also shamelessly here for shipping AUs. The general Liem-shipping vibe is "I want more than this, but I shouldn't & they can't possibly want me back," so if you're into that, I've got what you need. His default setting is very D&D-like high fantasy, but I'm comfortable playing him in modern fantasy settings as well. Pretty much any prompt can also accommodate Liem being a full vampire instead of a dhampir, if that's your thing.
Prompts for inspiration:
• Arranged Marriage: Liem's shady vampire family has arranged his marriage to you, but he seems a rather reluctant fiance.
• Bodyguard Shipping: It's Liem's duty to keep you safe and out of trouble, possibly despite your best efforts.
• Companion to Royalty: Reclusive vampire king Liem and YOU! Are you a gift from a local power? Sacrifice from the townsfolk? Or did you just stumble up the road to his castle during a storm?
• Enemies to Lovers: Maybe Liem is a foreign agent trying to sabotage your country or organization. Or maybe you're rebelling against the current regime and he's trying to take you in.
• Fake Dating/Fake Married: A relationship is your cover story while you're travelling for some secret reason. Gotta keep up appearances.
• Hunter & Hunted: Are you a hunter trying to track Liem down? Or a snack that proved more than he bargained for?
• Hurt (Comfort Optional): Whether he's hurt, sick, drugged, or just upset, two things remain constant: Liem needs help, and he doesn't want to accept it. But maybe you don't want to fix him anyway; maybe you want to make him worse.
• Living a Lie: Whether you're undercover on a mission, or you lied to cover something up and now you have to commit, you're stuck playing a role until you accomplish some secret objective — or until you can shake off your nosy company.
• Loss of Control: For whatever reason, one of you is struggling not to go berserk — or perhaps has already failed. If it's Liem, can you help him come back to himself, or are you the one pushing him over the edge?
• Out of the Frying Pan: The classic "tried to help someone in trouble, ended up with a new and possibly worse problem" situation. But at least you're in it together!
• Priest/Celibacy: Default here is that Liem is the priest, but it could go the other way. Smutty, or just laden with UST? You decide.
• Texting: Stupid TFLN-style text threads, my beloved...
• Random Scenario: For if none of the above tickle your fancy.
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[She certainly didn’t see a point to self-reporting that, and maybe he’d keep his mouth shut, too, but… She’d know and that was enough??? The less important or grave an issue was the more likely she was to spill it by accident or in a cluster, too, and that would just cause so much confusion… Okay, they could…
Konoha catches a glimpse of those unexpectedly well formed muscles again as Liem gives a very poor reasoning for why he might sleep on the floor and leave the bed free for her to use, but she covers her face respectfully a moment later, her voice muffled behind her palms.]
Oooooh, that’s such a silly argument, Liem… No one prefers the floor— We really are going to have our “first fight”… !
[Hopefully the maid couldn’t half-overhear and think that her peeking really had inspired a couple’s argument… Konoha kicks a bit in frustration, water splashing in the tub, but… If he’s going to be that stubborn, she has no choice but to suggest It. After a long, long pause, her voice a bit more timid than it usually was, still a bit muffled by her hands…]
We could… If we’re not telling Sha Gozen anything then we could… maybe share… ?
[The bed was technically meant for up to two jinba…]
no subject
Once he's hung up his robe, he stoops to scoop up a simple long-sleeved shirt and pulls it over his head. He still feels a little naked standing in the same room as his guide in essentially just underclothes, but he's not going to climb into bed fully-garbed. For one thing, it would be modest to the point of peculiarity. For another, his clothes would wrinkle atrociously.]
That really isn't necessary. I'd be happy on the floor.
[He glances at Konoha where she's speaking into her hands, then notes how her clothes are hiked up around her warm brown waist and looks quickly back at the bed. It's easily large enough for the two of them, even if they want to keep a modest distance; she's not an especially large centaur, and he barely requires any space at all. Still, ever since his sister left when he was still a child, the only people he's shared his bed with have been the occasional hookup or lover. The context makes him feel nervous.]
… Would you really be all right with sharing?
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Once she thinks she hears him dressing, Konoha pulls her hands back down from her face, now ruddy with frustration with on top of her flash of embarrassment.]
I’m alright with it…
[Or she wouldn’t suggest it!]
I’m used to sleeping with other people in my village anyway.
[A moment later, reaching for a towel, she realizes how that could potentially sound, hastily correcting as she begins to ease herself out of the bath as the water shifts from hot to just warm.]
M- My parents! When it’s cold I share the bed with my parents, I mean…
[Not that she thought of Liem like a parent... Far from it, but- ! Maybe that would reassure him… somehow? It sounded filial at least? Certainly not perverse… It's just that she worked the trail routes most of the year and only got to stay put during the winter season when the snows were too heavy for most travelers who'd hire an escort or guide like her.
And… honestly he’s so small compared to the other jinba the bed was meant to hold, so she thinks they might could even arrange themselves so they don’t even touch! … As somewhat lonely seeming as that was as an idea, the inn mattress could just wait for a proper couple to stay the night and find that fulfillment...
Towel retrieved, she carefully drags herself from her soak, beginning to try and dry her dark bay coat.]
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Oh—of course, yes.
[Three centaurs in one bed seems like it would get rather crowded, but presumably they found a way to make it work. And if Konoha is at least used to sleeping with family, then perhaps it wouldn’t be an imposition on her after all.]
I always slept alone in my cell at the temple, but I suppose it can’t hurt to share for one night.
[Carefully, he sits down on the bed and folds his legs underneath him, tucking his feet off of the floor. He resolutely avoids glancing back in Konoha’s direction as he hears her climb out of the bath.]
I didn’t know you lived in a village.
[He had assumed her family would be nomadic, like many of the centaurs they’d encountered on their travels. Even outposts they’d stopped at recently seemed strictly for trading and temporary rests; there were few permanent homes that he’d seen.]
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[Especially when you were already pretending to be married… and this way, she could rest her strained leg and he could just… rest in general, he looked like he really just needed. All the rest.
Toweling off as he speaks of sleeping in his temple cell (lonely, that sounds pretty lonely, she thinks), Konoha goes through one towel and then another dealing with drying her damp coat, but thankfully this place was used to jinba and had left enough for her to use. At the mention of her village, though, she laughs, as if she weren’t just a bit embarrassed.]
Mmm, I do. Or, did, I guess... We’ll actually pass through it in a few weeks, when we get closer to Goka!
[Things are a bit easier since she didn’t dunk her entire body, so she doesn’t take too long… but while she does-]
My father is a carpenter, and my mother is a weaver. That’s why my marriage knife is so good, actually… I’m really lucky.
[There’s something else she was supposed to add to her parents’ description, something about why he sounded surprised they lived in a village…]
Oh! They’re humans, by the way- ! My parents. That’s why…
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The revelation that Konoha's parents are human raises a number of questions, but he imagines any queries about her blood kin could easily end up in unhappy territory. He can't think of many good reasons for a centaur child to be raised by parents of a completely different species.]
Oh— I didn't realize. I don't think you mentioned that before.
[Regardless of the reason, that's the kind of detail he would certainly have taken note of and remembered. It also might answer some questions about why she grew up in a village, despite that seeming like a cultural rarity among this region's centaurs.]
Is it a human village, then?
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[Or she wouldn't have the knife now in Liem's possession. Toweling off, Konoha switches to a new dry one, her coat finally getting less damp.]
Mm, it's pretty much all humans...
[The more sordid details of how she came to be raised by human hands and not those of her own species, well... He didn't need to hear something like that before bed, and she herself didn't really like to dwell on it. Setting aside her towels, she scoots a little closer to the bed... well, he's still facing away from her, she can blush, it's fine. She's the bigger of them, she should probably get in first and let him arrange himself how he pleased after...]
My father goes to Abadar's church sometimes... He might not even cry that much if I married a priest!
[It's okay to joke about it, right? It's not real... Even if she did kind of think most of her life that she might have to marry a human, or maybe even should... if she could find one willing to deal with the fact that not everyone would accept it. Behind Liem, the mattress shifts as Konoha eases in, searching for the most comfortable way to lay and keep her fetlock rested.]
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Your father doesn't want you to be married?
[Curiosity colours his voice more than concern; it seems obvious that she's making a joke, so he doubts her father would actually weep to know that his daughter had found a husband. (Right? That part is definitely a joke.) Still, the sentiment must come from somewhere, even if he can't imagine the cause. Shouldn't parents be happy when their child finds a good marriage?
Granted Liem might not consider himself a good marriage prospect, especially for a centaur, but even a wife of the most humble priest can still expect a steady life and an education for her children. (Well. Assuming he's able to father her children.)]
We can avoid pretending while we pass through your village, so gossip doesn't get back to them. We shouldn't need to be "married" in a human village regardless, am I right?
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Oh, no, I'm sure he does... Maybe not as much as my mother, but-
[The chuckle dies, but she's still smiling absently, at least, brushing over,]
They had, um- eight children before me. "Real" children. But by the time they adopted me, they didn't have any. ... So, you know, I think he's just not ready.
[To "let her go", even symbolically by giving her to another man, despite the fact that she is now frequently away from home for work. Her equine parts arranged to her satisfaction, back legs curled up to her belly and her strained foreleg held carefully straight, she finally lets her upper half relax into the pillows, releasing a little sigh of comfort. ... Sharing wasn't a bad idea after all, right? And talking about this, joking a bit, actually made her feel a bit less awkward, too...]
He doesn't think anyone's good enough... Maybe I should be looking for a priest...
[Aha... Not, um, him, of course, but. Who could complain about a priest? And unlike "rich merchant", "prince", or "bandit king", that sort of marriage fantasy was way more realistic! Konoha nuzzles in the pillow, making sure he still had plenty of room on his half of the bed before she starts pulling the comforter back up. She'd have to move in the night to keep herself comfortable, but the mattress at least seems designed not to let as much of the movement carry (considering... her weight). After sticking a smaller pillow under her fetlock...]
... Mmm. I'd appreciate that. I don't want to disappoint them.
[Her mother would be so thrilled if she brought someone home...]
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It must be difficult to search for a spouse while travelling as much as you do.
[Liem pads through the dimness back over to the bed, and pauses for an indecisive moment before finally crouching down and climbing in. The mattress is firmer than most beds he's slept in, but it's still a fair sight more comfortable than the ground, especially once he's pulled the comforter up over his legs. Only then does he turn and lean over the edge of the bed so he can set his glasses aside for the night.]
Especially if you're hoping to find a centaur priest to wed.
[Priest may be a more realistic goal than wealthy merchant, but it's surely hard to get to know any priests especially well, with a profession like hers. He imagines most of the people Konoha speaks to during a job are vendors and tradesmen.]
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Aha… Yeah. It is. I probably would be married by now if I’d stayed in one place, but… my father got sick, and guiding pays way more than being a lumber foreman.
[She doesn’t say it like she’s sorry for herself, or fishing for pity. That’s just… how it was. Besides, she was making more money guiding Liem for a few moons than she’d make in an entire year hauling wood… And it made sense. This job was far more dangerous, you couldn’t prepare for everything as easily as you could learn a trade and take safety precautions, but… That was just how things were, too.
There’s a moment, watching his silhouette in the dark grow clearer as her eyes adjust to the sudden change in light, waiting for him to climb in bed, that Konoha forgets to breathe. Should she… remind him it was alright? She didn’t have… any designs on him? She could say that it was just like… family, or… No. It’s fine. He climbs in.
She resumes breathing, a slightly self-conscious giggle escaping despite her best efforts. She muffles it in the pillow, nuzzling in, shifting just a bit more to get comfortable, making sure to leave him a good foot or so of space between them.]
A centaur priest, right… I set the hurdle really high by accident…
[There’s something almost doubtful there, but she doesn’t say… why the hurdle is high. Whether it’s not being able to imagine a priest willing to take her to wife, thinking she wouldn’t ever find someone in general, or envisioning that she may not ever find a centaur who thought like a centaur raised by humans…
She should let him sleep, but. In the near dark, warming beneath the thick quilts…]
Are you the type of priest that will get married some day… ?
[She knew a passing amount of religious things, but. Not enough not to be curious.]
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He's quiet for a moment after she asks her question, though there's no doubt that he must have heard her. At length, he answers, still lying closed-eyed against the pillows.]
I don't think I will.
[He doesn't say "I can't," or "I vowed not to," but he seems confident nonetheless. Liem doesn't know what reasons Konoha thinks of when she says that she set the hurdle for her marriage high, but he's long since accepted that marriage is simply not in his future. Who would wish to marry him, and what could he promise such a person if they did? He may be a priest, but he has no parish to minister; his job and his calling lies on a different path, and like Konoha's it's not one that allows him to settle down for long in one place. Even if he did pursue different work, he couldn't ruin his spouse's reputation by making them the partner of a half-monster. What sort of devotion would that be?]
I would prefer to focus on my service to Abadar. My temple is all the family I need.
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That's admirable...
[She assumes it's just a choice, because he doesn't say the far simpler "it is not allowed", but even if she thinks that it's a bit lonely... To devote yourself to something, whether it was work or duty or calling, that was admirable. And it was good, if he still had people who were like family to him even if they weren't the traditional wife or husband, children...
Konoha nuzzles into her pillow, adjusting just a bit more before she settles for the night (well, the few hours before she'd need to roll over). There is more she might say, more she is curious about, but...]
Goodnight, Liem...
[They had a long journey ahead of them. There would be time.
By the time she wakes at first light... Konoha has moved in the night. Seeking further comforts from the body nearest, she's snuggled up against the priest's side, her face tucked into the curve of neck and shoulder, her hands clasped loosely in front of her chest, and her forelegs curled in a half-embrace on his legs. When she wakes and notices, she flusters, she apologizes as they disentangle... But she was much better rested than if she'd slept on the floor. And the slight swelling in her fetlock had gone down, the limb bears her weight without pain... So she considers it a good idea, still, embarrassment aside.
The days pass. They get closer to Goka, they successfully skirt the edges of clan lands belonging to one of the more hostile groups of centaurs in the area, and they even reach the next series of caravan towns without incident beyond days spent chatting and moving. By then... Konoha isn't ready to sleep on the floor again. Isn't it just practical to share again? They'd both be better off that way... and she'll try harder to stick to her side of the bed! Which she doesn't succeed at, actually, but. It's less awkward the second time. And the third time.
The problem is, by the fifth time... Konoha feels something familiar and unwelcome beginning to stir in her belly. It isn't actually restful, spending that night by his side and growing hyperaware of every sound of him shifting, the smell of him so close. But more concerning is the fact that,]
Liem...
[At the market the next day, she can feel eyes on her, lingering and hungry. She can smell stallions amongst a few clanless, a messenger, and some other centaur staying or passing through the town. And more embarrassingly... She knows they can smell her, too. At least... they can smell the musk of her rising pheromones beneath the slow, gradual lilt of her tail.]
Can you, um- Can you wear my knife a bit more... obviously... ?
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He doesn't sleep the whole night through, of course. Her shifting does wake him, and at one point he gets up to poke at the embers of the fire, too restless to stay lying down; but by the time dawn nears he's back in bed again, and he wakes cuddled into the curve of her body, with her face tucked into the crook of his neck. It was not, he has to acknowledge, an unpleasant way to spend the night.
So the next time they stop at an inn, it's easier to entertain the idea of sharing a bed as well as a room. It's the sensible thing to do, really—and he assures her when they wake that he isn't bothered that she's once again found her way over to his side of the bed in the night.
It's possible he may have scooched a little closer to her side himself, when he wasn't paying attention.
The consequences of their new habit don't occur to him until some nights later, when the wakefulness of the body next to him makes Liem's sleep less restful than usual. And by the following morning, he's well aware of the cause of Konoha's restlessness.
It's become reasonably apparent to Liem that his night vision is a bit sharper than hers, but that her sense of smell is keener than his own. The extent to which his senses surpass a normal human's doesn't allow him to do anything as sophisticated as track something by scent, even with creatures who smell of blood, for which his nose seems especially keen. But his sense of smell is still sensitive enough to pick up the change in Konoha's scent from his position right beside her, and he isn't the only one who's seemed to notice. Consequently, the centaurs in this part of town seem to be paying them (well, her,) quite a bit more notice than usual.]
I can try.
[He's already wearing her knife quite plainly, but he adjusts his posture so his thumb is hooked conspicuously into the belt next to it, and he tries to catch the gazes of the centaurs looking their way—but it's hard to make proper eye contact through dark glasses, and most of them don't seem too fazed. He veers a half-step closer to her instead, for all the good that seems to do.
He tries his best to keep his breaths shallow.]
no subject
Sometimes she couldn’t. And this sort of attention, especially from less “civilized” plains tribe centaurs… It wasn’t her favorite.
Unfortunately, even she sometimes can’t tell where Liem is looking, not with those dark glasses he’s always wearing, and it doesn’t seem to be doing much to dissuade the interest she’s generating. Konoha swallows awkwardly as she tries to stick close to Liem’s side and be obvious that she’s taken, but…
A marriage knife… A shopkeeper mutters to another. The dialect favored here is a bit rough, but still perfectly parsable… though she kind of wishes it wouldn’t, as gossip and snide commentary crop up amidst the crowds.
Can a two-leg even satisfy a mare in heat? A stallion with a coat clipped in war patterns guffaws, ribbing a companion. I bet she can’t even feel his cock. I feel sorry for her. Only laughter greets her own red-faced glare, a rude call of Need a real man to comfort you, sweetheart?, and…
Well, she knows Liem isn’t as good at speaking it, but. She suddenly wishes his listening comprehension was worse.]
Liem, maybe… I know it’s kind of lewd, but…
[If there was any way to avoid a confrontation that might color their time in this town or follow them onto the trail…]
Could you grab… my mane… ? Kind of tight…
[He may have noticed that once, sheltering under a lean-to in the rain, a couple near them had made the same gesture and sent Konoha to a blush and averting her eyes. But- lewd?]
no subject
Your…
[He glances over at her withers, where that little trail of rough hair peeks coyly out from beneath the wrap at her waist. It wouldn't be difficult to sidle a little closer, reach over and do as she asks—but she's right, it does seem a little lewd, somehow. Maybe not in the same explicit way as the stallions' comments, at least from his point of view, but if she'd asked him to slide his hand under the clothes at her waist he'd hardly have blushed any more.
He does do it, though. Her equine back is a comfortable height for him to rest his arm, so it's a simple matter to slide his hand up the smooth bay coat and tangle his fingers in her mane, just where it starts to be half-hidden by her clothing. He tries to walk a little closer too, to press against her as though his slight and two-legged frame might have the capacity to provide her reassurance.]
no subject
Her own face is red, though, as she tries to go about their business. She shudders (and not in horror) when his fingers curl and tighten in the short hair of her vestigial mane, something that if she had to compare to how humans acted… was something like the equivalent of a squeeze on the ass or a tug into a lap. More importantly, perhaps… She cannot hide how her hearts pound when he presses against her flank, nor how overheated her body seems, uncomfortable with desire that only grows as time passes.
Hoh, the little man’s the jealous type? She tries to ignore it now, she does. You’re the jealous type. Just because you can’t find a wife to fuck. She tries to keep her tail down, knowing that just as some of the physical reactions weren’t her fault… some of the physical reactions from the unmatched stallions in town weren’t their fault either. Smells damn good, though. There’s an antsy energy in the air, and she’s… she’s to blame for stomping hooves, tossed heads, inquiring sniffs, and eventually… a stallion that might be following them at a distance, gauging… gauging something.]
Sorry…
[Biting into her lip with embarrassment and frustration both, Konoha makes her way back towards their inn but along the way… she suddenly makes a series of sharp turns, her steps mincing with discomfort, finally half pulling Liem into an alley so narrow that the larger stallions wouldn’t be able to easily navigate if they tried. She can manage a little, and… that’s enough, for her to push him in front of her and finally come to a stop half-hidden behind a pile of wares at the rear of a shop, squeezing up close to minimize the chances of being spotted from the main street.]
Liem, let’s just… let’s just wait here for a little while…
[Never mind that this new, cramped position… put her very close, her lower equine chest nearly pressed up against his hips, her forelegs boxing him in, her upper spine curved to allow her to press a palm and her warm brow to the cool stone also putting her in position for her breath and the sound of her breaths to whisper over the shell of his ear, the needy little pants making her breasts heave.]
I’m really sorry, I think I… I must have gotten this season’s timing wrong…
[… And it occurs to her, then, that. She’s been sharing a bed with a man. Breathing him in, and more than one night. She should have realized it might trigger her heat early, but-
It’s too late for that.]
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But once they're crammed behind a shop, with his back to the stone wall and Konoha all but pressing him into it, her presence all but fills his senses. He can't avoid the way she's hemmed him in, so he can barely twitch without nudging her leg, or her lower chest—or her upper one. He can't avoid looking at it for that matter, not unless he closes his eyes entirely, and there's nothing he can do to block out the warmth tickling his ear, or the musky, clinging scent of her, or the panting sound of breaths gone heavy with unfulfilled want.]
You don't think anyone will come looking back here?
[He tries to keep from squirming, with some success, and tries to keep his thoughts to practical concerns, with almost no success at all. It would be so unprofessional for him to get horny right now, not to mention really embarrassing. Probably embarrassing for Konoha as well, so he really, absolutely can't let himself dwell on the way she's standing right over him, or remember the way she'd tasted that time when he'd kissed her—wow, no he definitely shouldn't be thinking of that.]
Ah… Would you… like some water?
[She seems… very warm right now. He keeps a small canteen on him for convenience when he'd rather not dig in his pack, so perhaps she'd like some?]
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Even if they do it's... It's fine...
[She gestures vaguely upwards at the low-hanging awnings and canopies that criss-cross the alley over shop back doors, providing relief from the sometimes punishing plains sun. She's petite for her kind, and her head almost brushes them.]
It's too... It's too low to mount back here...
[And that's too lewd to say, she shouldn't have... But it's the answer to why she thinks it's a good place to hide for a bit, even though the scent would eventually attract interest. Ah... She should move before that happened, but.]
Water would be nice...
[The heat that had started kindling days before has gradually risen, and now... She's parched. She lets out a heavy breath near his ear, swallows down another... something, as she keeps her free hand hovering near him, just- Ready to accept a drink. Trying to laugh a little, and failing.]
I guess there's, ah... A bad side to pretending to be married... ? I'm sorry about... all those things those guys said... City centaurs usually have... better self-control... and manners...
[She doesn't want to call members of her own race uncivilized, but. There was a marked difference in how her heats were reacted to between more village-dwelling areas and the wilder, nomadic plains tribes. That was... certain.]
I'm sure your... I mean, I'm sure you're very nicely formed... and capable...
[She should probably stop talking. W- Water, please...]
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Oh, right.
[He hurries past it, reaches down to free the little canteen from his belt, while trying not to pay attention to her breath hot in his ear, or the way he can't avoid brushing her lower chest with his fingers as he does so. She's talking again, too, apologising even though he knows this isn't her fault, her rambling making the skin of his neck tickle.
Is she supposed to smell so tantalizing? He's not even capable of mounting, as she'd put it, but he still can't put the thought of touching her out of his mind. He swallows as he retrieves his water, but rather than use it to relieve his own parched throat, he pushes it desperately into her hand as her rambling takes a personal turn.]
Konoha, please.
[He can't weather her talking about his nicely formed anything while they're back here like this. As it is, as he squirms a little in an attempt to somehow invent more space between them, he notes a certain snugness about his crotch and has to hope that the fall of his robes sufficiently disguises his half-roused excitement.]
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For some reason, that word sticks in her mind more… and not necessarily as he’d applied it. She takes the water gratefully, she manages a blushing murmur of sorry and thank you…
And for a moment he has some measure of potential peace as she lifts the canteen to her lips and tips her head back to drink. She was thirsty, surely it would help… but perhaps all it does is expose the warm line of her throat, bobbing gently with each sip, a bit of liquid shine on her lips visible before she swipes it away with her tongue.
They’re so close. He’s so close. But as much as she wants to nuzzle against him, close the gap between their bodies and feel his heat directly… Konoha bites into her lip and forces herself to press her forehead to the wall again, fumbling gently for his hand so that she might press the canteen back into it.]
You can… You can head back to the inn first, okay, Liem… ?
[She tries to sound nonchalant, even though it’s impossible now. Tries not to, but can’t help sniffing noticeably at his hair. Maybe it would explain-]
If you stay, I’m going… I’m going to do something… and- and you might not want to look at me after, and then no one will believe our married act…
[He’d seemed like such a good kisser. She wants to test it. Her fingers curl in the air near his waist, wanting to hold and tug close, but she keeps herself contained, more used to self-control than plains stallions. More aware, too, of how many people thought of relations with their kind.]
You won’t want to share the bed anymore…
[She sounds sad about that, though the haze of desires. Not for the sake of her sore muscles, either.]
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He drags his eyes impatiently back to somewhere beyond her ear.]
Konoha, I can't do that. That would be shameful on my part.
[Partly he can't leave because he's a little bit stuck, though she could surely move enough to let him squeeze past if he needed to. But mostly, he just refuses to put her in a position where she might need to deal with uncivilized stallions all by herself. The idea of making it not his problem even though his presence had been helping to dissuade some of the interested onlookers is cowardly at best and disgracefully self-absorbed at worst.]
I can't leave you alone like this, so I'm afraid we'll just have to go back together… Whenever you're ready.
[He accepts the canteen back from her, takes a sip from it himself before returning it to its place at his belt. And his cool, pale hand finds her warm brown one, his fingers curling gently over hers. Something about the way she speaks those last words makes him pull her hand closer to hold it against his chest.
He means to give her some other reassurance, to tell her that he's not angry with her and he's not going to exile her from sleeping at his side. He means to—but what he murmurs next is,]
You're very warm.
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He’s touching her, his fingers almost electric cool to the touch as she burned. Not just holding, even, he moves her touch until her palm presses against the fabric of his shirt. Her fingers splay almost innocently across his chest, listening to the slow beat of his heart and listening to how he thinks… He thinks she’s warm.]
Liem…
[She means to say he was cool, that his skin was like a breezy balm to her feverish senses, but it would be exaggerated. Even the relief of a small temperature drop will fade soon enough, and once it does…]
Can I… ?
[Can she what? The question hangs in the air as her fingers curl, as she moves her head just so, just enough to almost nuzzle against his temple, to brush her nose against his hair, inhaling softly, quickly.]
Just a little…
[The hand that had braced against the stone above and beside his head drags down until her fingertips trace the line of his neck, over the strong curve of collar and shoulder, hovering and fairly trembling with desire to close that scant centimeters gap.
She’s blushing, her cheeks a ruddy red obvious even on her darker skin, her words coming out disjointed but heated, wanting but still half in-control.]
You’re a good man…
[She swears it isn’t just because he was male and close by. Those stallions were close, and she… If she wanted to she could find one to couple with, it would be as easy as a single smile and a lift of her tail, but…
Instead she’s here, and her tail is lifting behind her for… for no one with four legs.]
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It would be easier if that were the case… but he's not the most available man around, and certainly not the best suited to give her the pleasure of the relief that she so clearly wants. He's someone who has slept beside her, and travelled with her through towns and through back country, and who has had care of her marriage knife for much of that time. He can understand how she would fall under the impression that he was a good man.
With a pang in his chest, he hopes he never has to disabuse her of that notion. But there is no one around to condemn them for seeking a bit of temporary solace, just now.]
Yes.
[He answers her even though she hasn't said what she wants, even though part of him meant to say "We shouldn't," and "Not as good as you deserve." He tips his face up, brushing his nose along her jaw, as his skin heats beneath her careful touch.]
You can. A little.
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So she's sure. And when he gives her permission even though she realizes she had shyly demurred from spelling out in words just exactly what she wanted... Relief is audible in her next little sound, a tiny whimper as her fingers curl in his shirt above his heart where he'd placed her touch. He'd given his permission anyway.]
Just a little...
[So she repeats it for him in a breathy whisper, like a promise, a reminder out loud for herself... before her other hand leaves his shoulder to trace down his side, seeking out... his belt. Not to undo, but to tangle her fingers in, as if to leash herself. She shouldn't go farther down than that line. She should-
Kiss him, soft and needy and heated, a bit of potential inexperience evident in the way she has to cock her head and find the right angle to bring them together, a little clumsy. Or maybe that's just because she surges forward a half step, her lower breast nudging up against his hips to almost pin him to the wall behind, sharp centaurine canines nicking accidentally into his bottom lip in her eagerness.]
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