☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - gentlest sin
In their gentle bliss, time seemed to not exist, if only for a little while. All there was, was Yara's body against hers, rough fingers laying gently on her stomach, and the flickering candles illuminating her face.
Deema's hands were roaming, exploring every texture, every muscle, every scar, and bump, hoping to memorize it before she had to leave. Yara had a soft smile on her face as her own hand moved to Deema's face, the gentleness unfamiliar and uncharacteristic as she brushed a few strands of hair away from her face.
At that Deema pushed herself closer to the captain, wanting nothing more but to be touched like that again. Everything was different from the first time it had happened; there was tenderness now that the pure lust was gone. For Deema, it had been more about longing, anyway. She wished nothing more than to stay in that moment forever and forget the world had ever existed.
Her fingers ghosted down Yara's back, until she reached a scar, different from the others. "What happened?" It was bigger, longer, and had not healed as well as the others she knew of. She had many scars, a well-lived life, marks of survival. The amount wasn't very comforting, knowing she was going to leave in just a few hours.
"I got stabbed," her breath was hot on her face, Yara's eyes never leaving her face. They were breathing the same air, bodies almost pressed together. It would never be enough. Deema moved her head closer, their noses almost touching.
"Can't say I'm surprised," it was little more than a puff of breath, but before Yara could answer, she pressed their lips together again. It was comforting and slow. The captain pulled Deema closer, who eagerly wrapped her still bare leg around Yara's.
While she would gladly have stayed like that; pillow talk, kisses, and trying to forget what the morning would mean, she couldn't. It would be too complicated, it would mean too much. Once she admitted to those gentle sins, Deema feared she wouldn't be able to go back.
It was easier like that. It was familiar. So, she pressed herself against Yara, allowing the kiss to deepen once more, her hands vanishing in her hair as she rolled over on top of Yara, whose hands rode up her thighs instantly, finding their familiar resting place on her ass as Deema's breathing began to speed up again.
Maybe not what she truly wanted, but how could she ever complain about being in this position?
***
The morning came sooner than later, and as bright morning light filled the room, it became harder to ignore the reality.
While she was still snoozing, Yara leaving the bed made Deema sigh and roll over, watching as the woman got dressed. She was tired, there had been too few hours of sleep, but now that Yara was getting ready to leave, sleep was the last thing on her mind.
She felt pathetic. All she wanted was for Yara to stay, for her to say what Deema couldn't. It wasn't something she could express or ask for. Instead, Deema watched the woman with what felt like forbidden admiration.
"Can I come with you?" She asked suddenly, almost cut off by a yawn. "To see you off, I mean." She felt silly as soon as she said it.
"Why?" Yara turned to her, almost fully dressed now. Deema felt very naked, wished at least her hair had looked good.
She rolled on her back, pushing hair out of her face, staring at the high ceiling. "I don't know," she sighed softly, turning her head once more. "I guess I'll miss you."
From every response she could have gotten, a soft laugh hadn't occurred to her. "Look at you," Yara slowly said, sitting down on a chair to put on her boots. "First you hated me, now you're naked in my bed saying you'll miss me."
Rolling her eyes, she pushed herself back up again. "You know what, I take it back," she left the bed, planning to get dressed until she felt Yara's eyes on her again. "Seems like you'll miss me."
Partly hoping to keep the captain with her for just a moment longer, partly hoping to deceive both herself and Yara, she set a few steps back to Yara. The woman seemed unfased by her words, though, only pulling her on her lap, hands running down her back. "I'm beginning to think I might."
Leaning a little bit in, Deema whispered: "Tell me when you come back we'll do this again." Her lips brushed against Yara's necks, her fingers tightening on her hips.
"Fucked you that well, didn't I?" Her tone was light and teasing, but her posture gave her away.
"Don't pretend I'm the only one asking." A last time, she pressed her lips to Yara's, who gladly kissed her back, as if she had all the time in the world.
Deema eventually pulled away, though she didn't want to. She got up and picked up her dress, quickly slipping it back on. As she turned back, Yara seemed ready to leave. Deema felt heavy again, but smiled softly, anyway. "I'll walk with you for a little bit."
"My men tried to kill you-" she began, but Deema had made up her mind.
"I won't come far, just a bit," pulling the door open, she'd begun walking without allowing Yara to protest, which she didn't. They walked through the corridors together, life was getting started in the building; servants were walking around them, still sleepy and beginning to light the many candles.
The guards let them out and Deema knew it would just be a little further. "You'll come back, right?"
"This is my home, of course I will," but after a glance at Deema, she knew that's not what she meant. But how could she say more than what she had?
"Right," Deema stopped, forcing a smile on her lips. "Safe travels, I guess," they were still standing high, Yara's path would take her down and to the right.
It was different than just moments before. Yara nodded once before walking away. As if they had not spent a night together, as if the soft touches had meant nothing. Deema closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, watching the captain until she was out of sight.
She couldn't bring herself to return to the castle yet. Instead, she took the longer route and ended up on some rocks, a clear view of the docks. While she couldn't clearly see which figure was who, as soon as Yara and some others arrived at the docks, she was able to pick her out right away. Her movements familiar, even from such distance.
It was very soon that the ships set into motion, and in what seemed like just a moment, the many ships were just a line of dots somewhere far and unreachable, and the hours before seemed like a pleasant daydream, but nothing more than that.
***
A week had passed, and Deema felt restless wherever she went. There just wasn't enough to do, and barely anyone to talk to. She clung to the hope that Yara would just stay a week longer, though it was plausible it would be longer. She just felt... lonely. Especially in the big castle.
Leaving wasn't a good idea. She'd heard word had traveled fast, but Deema couldn't stand it anymore. She didn't really have a plan, had never really bothered to discover the town. It was hardly a surprise when she turned up at the inn Maggie worked at. That woman was the only friendly face she had left now. She tried not to expect anything, did her best to blend in and enter without anyone seeing her.
Though it was rather early, the people there seemed to be drunk already. It wasn't very busy, though, and their drunk attention missed her. It wasn't very long before she spotted Maggie and the woman saw her.
Her eyes went big, and after delivering the cups, she made her way over to Deema. "What are you doing here?" So no nice meeting, then. "Do you have any idea how dangerous you being here is? People are... you should go."
"Why?" She asked. "They want to kill me? They're afraid of me? You seem neither."
Maggie glanced around, but no one was paying attention to them. "Millet trusted you, so... I do too," she looked over her shoulder once more. "I mean it," she then whispered. "It's not safe for you here anymore. They're waiting for you to show your face."
It was as she had feared. The Iron Islanders were rougher and more true to their vows of destruction than anyone she'd ever met before. Showing who she was in front of multiple ships hadn't been a good idea, even if it had saved lives.
Deema didn't regret it, though. She just couldn't stay, as much as she wished she could. She'd finally found a place that felt right, and she was forced to go away. From the beginning, she'd known she would have to leave eventually. She'd wanted to, but now... what she wanted had become unclear.
"I..." What was there to say? Deema could have guessed this would happen.
"You should go now," Maggie's eyes were full of compassion, but she still turned away and left Deema alone at the table.
There were still no eyes on her, but the room felt too small, and each glimpse in her direction irked her. Thus, she found herself leaving as quietly as she came, making her way back to the safety of the familiar walls.
Once she reached them, she found it hard to shake a dark feeling, yet couldn't quite put her finger on it. People were looking for her, wanting to kill her. Would Balon Greyjoy have heard of it? She guessed not, while they had only spoken once or twice, it had hardly been pleasant, and if he knew, she would probably be dead by now.
It was only a matter of time before he, too, would get word of what Deema was. She'd never been afraid to die, but dying had never seemed very plausible before. Now it was just a dark fact that could be hiding around every corner.
Deema locked herself up in her room, wishing she had someone left to help her, and hoping Yara would soon come back.
***
On exactly the fifteenth day since she had left, Yara returned to Pyke. As she had expected, the journey had come to a bad ending. They'd won nothing, but lost valuable time and men. The whole way back, Yara had been feeling irritable, even the mountains of work she had to do did little to help ease her mind.
She was annoyed with her father, was upset about the men she'd lost, and her own muscles were still aching from a way too long fight. Each hour felt longer than the last, especially the closer to her home they got.
For so long, the sea had been Yara's favorite place, but for once she longed to be on steady ground again, to sleep until her muscles couldn't quite remember the pain they were in. And she had to admit she was looking forward to seeing Deema once more.
She wondered how the other woman had held up, and if the rumors had escalated with most of her crew gone. Her crew had been acting different, though she didn't blame them. Yara had taken Deema's side, of course they weren't going to forget.
"Captain," she turned towards the voice, seeing Drew standing in the doorway. "We're throwing anchor."
Nodding, Yara rolled up the parchment she'd meant to work on. It was still empty. "Lower the boats, we're going in two shifts."
After an affirmation, Drew left the room as Yara cleaned up the last few bits, blowing the candle before making her way to the deck. The two boats were already heading towards the shore, the remaining men doing their last tasks. No one had been in a good mood during the last days.
It was often like that; they missed the pleasures land could offer them, and the loss of others seemed more permanent on the vast sea. "Alright, come on, it's been enough for now." She said. The boats were making their way back to the ship, and suddenly it couldn't go fast enough.
The last half hour before she reached the familiarity of her own walls seemed to last hours. Yet as she made her way inside, she was uncertain of what to do. She needed to talk to her father, tell her how unsuccessful it had been.
She was too tired, too agitated, to form a decent conversation now. Gods, she needed a bath.
Neglecting her baggage and all the things she should do before taking the day off, Yara made her way to the bath chambers. It was one of the few luxuries she missed when she was on her ship.
When she pushed the door open and the smell of some flower reached her, she knew she wasn't alone, but recognized the smell almost instantly, and knew who was inside.
When Yara pushed open the next door, steam hit her in the face, and she could tell too much washing liquid had been used, the room smelling too strong. The walls were damp, and Yara knew the water was going to be the uncomfortable kind of warmth she'd have to melt into.
It wasn't a surprise when she saw the woman with her dark hair leaned back against the warm stones of the bath, her eyebrows raised momentarily, dropping as she recognized the captain.
"Didn't mean to interrupt," Yara said, placing her stuff in a corner. Deema's hair was sticking to her face from the heat, the ends laid dipping in the water, swimming around her.
"You're back," she perched up from her position, not caring about her lack of clothing. She sounded delighted, Yara didn't have to look to know what kind of smile was plastered on her face. "You're never interrupting." While her tone changed, her face did not. She was smiling, perched up straight in the water to wait for Yara's next move.
As Yara began to undress, Deema left her side of the big bath and came closer, gliding easily through the water. "Can't I get a bit of privacy?"
"So now you care about that, huh?" The woman lifted her arms from the water, resting them on the stone. Water was dripping, a little pool forming around her arms. Her skin seemed to shimmer in the poor light the room offered. "What else did two weeks on sea change?"
For a moment, Yara had forgotten to move, wanting nothing more than to slide in the water, forget everything for a moment. It was almost unreal to think that she would. That Deema wanted her to. "Wouldn't you like to find out,"
Deema chuckled, pushing herself off the edge and turning her eyes to the ceiling so Yara could finish changing. Not that she'd really minded in the first place. The water was awfully clear, and Yara did little to hide her lingering eyes over her body. "How did it go?"
She slid into the water, the warmth nice against her body. Gods, she did need this. "Let's not talk about business now," she just wanted a good moment. No one knew what the end of the week would bring, but at least they had control of that very moment. "Don't you remember what you promised me when I left?"
Deema's smile became a mischievous smirk, once more she moved closer. "It was hardly a promise," Yara could almost feel her skin, but the other woman kept her distance. "I think you'll have to convince me."
"Oh?" Yara straightened a bit, her muscles already softening, but still sore enough to make her want to stay put. At least for now. "I was gone for a fortnight, haven't you missed me?"
Deema moved a bit closer, rolling her eyes at the teasing tone, her legs soft against Yara's. "I guess so, not really convinced though."
"What if I said I worked very hard," Yara's voice became a bit softer. She hadn't meant to, but she was leaning in ever so slightly, longing for Deema close to her, to feel her skin under her fingertips.
Chuckling, Deema followed her lead, getting a bit closer, body now almost pressed against hers. "Are you sure you can handle it, then? You sound a bit sore, maybe you should take a nap first."
A grin forming on her face, Yara let her hands wander to Deema's waist, pulling her closer. The other woman put one hand on her shoulders, the other bracing against the stones. "I'm sure I can manage," she whispered, loving how Deema seemed to shiver under her touch, arch her body to be as close as she could.
Instead of an answer, Deema's lips found Yara's, the sensation familiar, yet still unexpected. Everything about the brunette was; the way she pressed her fingers against the base of Yara's throat, how she used the other to pull the woman closer.
Her own soreness was soon forgotten as her fingers began to explore every inch of Deema's perfect skin. She could kiss her all day, but a little part of her always wanted more. Even when they went all the way, a small voice would tell her that it wasn't enough, and would never quite be enough.
But Deema didn't seem content with just kissing, clear in the way her hands traveled lower and lower, and how her kisses ran down to Yara's neck. "Let me take your mind off things," she whispered against her skin. Every cell in Yara's body was aware of the way Deema was touching her, how their bodies were pressed together so perfectly.
She wanted that. Her hands moving up again, finding Deema's jaw and pulling her up to kiss her again. Deema happily kissed back, pressing her body closer to Yara's until the captain was pressed between warm stones and Deema's body.
In the warm room, oxygen seemed thinner, and when they parted, Yara was already panting. Deema seemed less affected, slow kisses running down her neck, a hand tugging at her hair to shift Yara's head, giving Deema more access to the skin.
Yara took a shuddering breath in, relishing Deema's skillful movements. Her hands went up Deema's sides, not wanting to the only one losing control. Her fingertips were already wrinkly from being in the water, but Deema still moved into her touch, pressing into her hands. By the time she reached her breasts, Yara thought she'd regained some of her control, Deema sucking in a sharp breath, body arching forwards even more.
The captain grinned, but the chuckle bubbling in her throat became a loud gasp when Deema bit down on her neck. It wasn't too hard, but it had been unexpected. "Didn't know you did that," Yara breathed out, her hands falling back to Deema's waist as the woman chuckled against her skin.
"Let me show you some more," she peeled away from her neck, face close to Yara's again, her hands sliding down her hips, waiting for Yara to give consent.
Her fingers were gentle against her hips, hinting towards the front of her thighs but not going too far. Yara wished she did, inhaling sharply just thinking about what to come. "Go on, then," Yara breathed out, head tilting back when Deema instantly moved her hand. This was the best welcome back she'd had in forever.
☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
(a/n): so anyway! i wanted to post this on sunday but then i got insecure lmao so a day late but ya know it happens. hope u have a nice day!