Blood Feud [COMPLETED]

CHAPTER FIFTEEN ☽☀︎

Perhaps a little naively, Tara had not expected inviting Erik to the sunken structure would result in intimacy. The frigid cave did little to cool them down from the exertion. After, as they re-dressed their clothes stuck to their bodies with sweat.

She was fiddling with her sash, trying to tie her belt. He refused her, tugging it and letting her fabrics fall open once more to reveal her body and reddened chest. His tunic was untied at the top. Beneath the wisps of chest hair, she noticed his skin was just as blotchy and red.

She writhed under his renewed touch, hands sliding beneath her garment and pressing into her back. She ought to be embarrassed by her sweatiness and unkempt appearance. On the receiving end of his touch, his attention, she felt all shame disappear.

She giggled at his wanton energy. Thrilled by his virility and exhilaration matching her own. So quickly after their love-making, he was ready for more. He lifted her up and pushed her against the cold wall, her legs wrapping around his waist. They went at it again.

Afterwards, bone-tired and cuddling, he broke their gaze to stare up at the stone renderings, "What did you say to those ancestors of yours? Because I really think they listened. If you wished for more of me, that is." The wicked smile across his lips earned him an elbow in the side.

"I asked for some sign that we should make up after our argument and that I should trust you and your intentions."

He grew sombre then, "And?"

She trailed quaking fingers over his chest, careful not to snag the curls. "Your patience, your effort to listen to me and do as I ask, as I do for you, got my attention. And you didn't force a kiss or... this," She quietened, "If anything, I grabbed you and forced your hand."

He caught her wrist and pulled her face close. She tried to wriggle away, embarrassed. 

"You forced nothing. I wanted you to make the first move if we were to make up. I erred. You're perfect."

The comfort and compliment earned him another deep kiss, unhurried and unwilling to part. She lost herself in him and knew he felt the same, regardless of what pressures awaited him within his own Clann. They were not in his lands of the midnight sun. Perhaps they never would be. All that concerned her was his presence so near, and the gentle spirit she knew he had from the moment she saw him. She realised he was the one she would happily, desperately spend the rest of her life with. No matter the cost.

She only wished her family would see it.

✦✦✦ ✝︎✞✟ ✧ ✝︎✞✟ ✦✦✦

They parted ways that evening. Spending the rest of the day considering their options and trying to find a place for Erik to conceal himself whilst his men raged in prison. Following the revelations of their traditions, she viewed the hostages, who she had recently begun to think of as jovial men like her brothers, as disgusting brutes cold-hearted enough to breed the women in their family as bedslaves.

The discoveries still turned Tara's stomach. She felt somewhat more secure knowing Erik did not agree with it. They discussed his sisters more. His worry for them whilst abroad and yearning to get home to set them free. He reiterated his love for them was fraternal like she loved her brothers. He would never willingly cross the boundary his parents wished him to. The boundary his parents -- as brother and sister -- had crossed.

She tried to compartmentalise the horrid nature of the Sorensens, instead focussing on the plan they had for Erik. He was to forage the woodlands for food and sleep in the fairy fort until she could figure out a better sleeping arrangement. He complained little but seemed torn up over the abandonment of his men. Even though, from his own words, if he went back to the mud-hut they would kill him.