Spring 3rd, 514 AV – Annalisa’s Quarters
The world was warm and soft, contended she lay upon the bedding in her quarters and for the first time since her arrival in Sahova she was actually warm under the thick woollen blanket. Despite the coverings she always seemed to be heaping upon herself the chill usually permeated deeply into her bones and though it was puzzling as to why it didn’t this particular morning she settled for not awakening with an old body assaulted by ice and pain. She gathered the covers into her arms, they seemed larger and more bulky than usual but she dismissed it from within her safe cocoon and just pulled them more tightly into her torso. Her eyelid began to droop and then the world faded into nothingness and was replaced, instead by reality.
What in the? she asked herself fuzzily aware that she was actually now colder than she had apparently dreamed but not enough for her joints to ache overly much.
Her head was stuck to something, dried sweat creating that unique adhesive that always seemed tougher then glue. Her mind tried to catch up with consciousness and she let her hand trace along what she was resting her head against – what she had been sleeping against. Her memory flickered into a slow semblance of life and she ran through the previous day as she recalled it. She had been alone for a while in the Vestibule, poking around and watching the comings and goings. She hadn’t found anything interesting to investigate and so had decided to…yes…go and annoy Annalisa a little bit.
Then what? Talked…flirted…ah…yes she knew where she was then as her hand groped about and found the rounded form of the Wizard’s buttock and squeezed a little as she smiled.
She levered her head off of what she found was Anna’s chest, skin peeling from skin slowly and with a little hiss she detached herself finally. Looking down she saw the scar, so faint and so neat and altogether far too interesting that she hadn’t decided whether to ask her about it yet. It was bound to be a terrible memory and making a mage angry was idiocy in the extreme. The blanket slipped down the back of her torso to expose the scars there, her blanket she noted, she had gifted it to the woman in a rare moment of true generosity. She drank in the sleek form and grinned at the recollection of their night’s activities. They were becoming more regular it seemed, using each other until they had no opportunity to do so.
“Good morning Z- Dasoma” she almost slipped but her mind caught up to her tongue just in time.
Anna was still asleep of course, she always seemed to sleep longer. Clearly, in Zandelia’s mind, mages didn’t feel the need to start early. Over the years she had learnt to start earlier than her enemies and thus gain the advantage, something to exploit. She sighed and traced her fingers here and there over the other woman’s body in boredom. She slipped down so that she was beside her now, watching her intently as the ribcage rose and fell in a shallow rhythm. She was still trying to figure the woman out. For all of their carnal closeness there had been little in the way of true learning of each other. It was always there, flickering between them but never really explored.
Like something we don’t really want to touch, hidden and brushed aside in favour of the simple and purely enjoyable she mused, her mind turning philosophical for a few moments before the boredom set in again.
She would have taken the opportunity to go rifling through Anna’s possessions but the fear of what she would find always kept her curiosity in check. Instead she decided to wake the woman the only way she knew how to. Shaking never worked, neither did shouting. Screams and rumblings were apparently too common here and the denizens of Sahova were too used to them. Instead she nuzzled into the slender neck and planted kisses, tracing upwards until she reached the cheek and then the lips. She pulled away as Annalisa stirred and levered herself up onto an elbow.
“Wake up my pretty, I think that you have slept deeply and long enough. I’d like to do something more than stare at you at least. Pretty though you are the scenery is quite mundane when all you’re doing is breathing,” she almost purred, “not that I’m looking forwards to being kicked out into the Vestibule again. The place is such a bore these days. Dead people here, craven one’s there. Is there nothing interesting in these walls?” she teased, the words almost daring to be proven incorrect.
The world was warm and soft, contended she lay upon the bedding in her quarters and for the first time since her arrival in Sahova she was actually warm under the thick woollen blanket. Despite the coverings she always seemed to be heaping upon herself the chill usually permeated deeply into her bones and though it was puzzling as to why it didn’t this particular morning she settled for not awakening with an old body assaulted by ice and pain. She gathered the covers into her arms, they seemed larger and more bulky than usual but she dismissed it from within her safe cocoon and just pulled them more tightly into her torso. Her eyelid began to droop and then the world faded into nothingness and was replaced, instead by reality.
What in the? she asked herself fuzzily aware that she was actually now colder than she had apparently dreamed but not enough for her joints to ache overly much.
Her head was stuck to something, dried sweat creating that unique adhesive that always seemed tougher then glue. Her mind tried to catch up with consciousness and she let her hand trace along what she was resting her head against – what she had been sleeping against. Her memory flickered into a slow semblance of life and she ran through the previous day as she recalled it. She had been alone for a while in the Vestibule, poking around and watching the comings and goings. She hadn’t found anything interesting to investigate and so had decided to…yes…go and annoy Annalisa a little bit.
Then what? Talked…flirted…ah…yes she knew where she was then as her hand groped about and found the rounded form of the Wizard’s buttock and squeezed a little as she smiled.
She levered her head off of what she found was Anna’s chest, skin peeling from skin slowly and with a little hiss she detached herself finally. Looking down she saw the scar, so faint and so neat and altogether far too interesting that she hadn’t decided whether to ask her about it yet. It was bound to be a terrible memory and making a mage angry was idiocy in the extreme. The blanket slipped down the back of her torso to expose the scars there, her blanket she noted, she had gifted it to the woman in a rare moment of true generosity. She drank in the sleek form and grinned at the recollection of their night’s activities. They were becoming more regular it seemed, using each other until they had no opportunity to do so.
“Good morning Z- Dasoma” she almost slipped but her mind caught up to her tongue just in time.
Anna was still asleep of course, she always seemed to sleep longer. Clearly, in Zandelia’s mind, mages didn’t feel the need to start early. Over the years she had learnt to start earlier than her enemies and thus gain the advantage, something to exploit. She sighed and traced her fingers here and there over the other woman’s body in boredom. She slipped down so that she was beside her now, watching her intently as the ribcage rose and fell in a shallow rhythm. She was still trying to figure the woman out. For all of their carnal closeness there had been little in the way of true learning of each other. It was always there, flickering between them but never really explored.
Like something we don’t really want to touch, hidden and brushed aside in favour of the simple and purely enjoyable she mused, her mind turning philosophical for a few moments before the boredom set in again.
She would have taken the opportunity to go rifling through Anna’s possessions but the fear of what she would find always kept her curiosity in check. Instead she decided to wake the woman the only way she knew how to. Shaking never worked, neither did shouting. Screams and rumblings were apparently too common here and the denizens of Sahova were too used to them. Instead she nuzzled into the slender neck and planted kisses, tracing upwards until she reached the cheek and then the lips. She pulled away as Annalisa stirred and levered herself up onto an elbow.
“Wake up my pretty, I think that you have slept deeply and long enough. I’d like to do something more than stare at you at least. Pretty though you are the scenery is quite mundane when all you’re doing is breathing,” she almost purred, “not that I’m looking forwards to being kicked out into the Vestibule again. The place is such a bore these days. Dead people here, craven one’s there. Is there nothing interesting in these walls?” she teased, the words almost daring to be proven incorrect.
