Datasets:

mickume

/

alt_manga

like 0

The look of horrified guilt spreading over his face as he sat up was almost comical. „Of course you were...You're nobility! Maker, I'm sorry, I didn't think..." She interrupted impatiently. „You didn't think? As far as I remember, it was me who pushed for this, not you."

He carded both hands into his hair and rested his elbows on his knees. „But I should have suspected... there was no need to go so far."

She walked the four steps back towards him. „Relax, will you? It wasn't your fault." Realising that implied there was some fault to assign, she sighed and acknowledged the need to elaborate. „I mean that nothing bad happened, so there's no need to apologize. I wanted it."

He shook his head, eyes downcast. „It was my responsibility to make sure you came out of this unharmed. You were beside yourself, not thinking clearly."

She shrugged again and sank to her haunches, hissing as her legs protested the strain. „Maybe I was. But I knew enough of what I was doing to know I needed exactly this." He didn't look like he believed a word, and immediately she was back to being the vase. The vase in the shape of a noble lady, all important decisions made for her because she was too precious to be allowed to run loose, and too dutiful to try anyway. She couldn't be that anymore, not now, not with him. She frantically searched for something to say that would make him understand and return to her that sense of agency and equality. Talking had never been her strong point though.

Frustrated, hands balled into fists, she complained: „Why can't my assurance be enough? I'm fine." And again, emphasizing every word as if she could press it into his head by force: „I. Wanted. It."

He remained unconvinced. „I stole something precious from you on a whim. I should have known better, I did not even consider..."

Something precious. Ispiration struck her finally and she didn't wait for him to finish, snapping: „Stop it. I simply got rid of something unnecessary."

That got his attention and he raised his eyes just as she focused hers on her hands, forcing them to relax and open. „Something unnecessary?" He asked incredulously.

She took a deep breath, trying to order the spontaneous idea into something logical. „Look, I only kept my virginity for formality's sake anyway. But that life is gone now." Now that she had said it, she could see clearly how true it was. It hadn't been a conscious decision – she simply hadn't cared – but maybe deep down, she had already been aware. The vase, the lady, they had to go whether she wanted or not, and she wasn't sad about that in the slightest.

She turned her right palm up and traced her thumb along its callouses. She couldn't see them in the low light, but she knew exactly where they were, and how perfectly a sword's grip matched them. Her hands, and the sword that belonged in them, were what she'd live by from now on. For the barest moment she was overwhelmed by plain relief, before a mountain of shame and guilt crashed down on it, because all of Highever had paid the price for her freedom.

„Kiendra..." Duncan's voice wavered. Not good. If he got emotional, she'd get emotional, and then she'd be one step away of falling apart all over again. Not happening, she decided. Once had been disgraceful enough.

„Well it is." She squarely met his eyes, daring him to disagree. „It would be anyway, the moment I become a Warden. The sooner I get used to that the better. My virginity was the last thing I had left of it, beside my meagre equipment." Her eyes searched automatically for the lump of shadows she knew to be her resting weapons - the shield with the Cousland laurels and the family sword she had taken from the armory mere days ago. She had left behind her own sword, which had been presented to her for her sixteenth nameday. What an exciting day that had been, a grand celebration, a few boys had even been knighted during the festivities... aaand there she was wandering off course. She took a deep breath and pulled herself from the fond memory, not without regret. At least it reminded her of something she had been taught on rituals of knighthood.

„Call it a rite of passage or something." She waved her hand dismissively, willing the man to just let the subject go.

Duncan, however, was shaking his head in disbelief. „That is...drastic. Sweet Maker, woman, did it really mean nothing to you? Isn't it usually a big deal for women, regardless of social standing?"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation and admitted softly: „It would be a poor rite of passage if it meant nothing at all."

Immediately the guilt returned to his face. She patted his knee, hoping it was a soothing gesture. Why was it that now she had to reassure him? „Is me wanting to break off from my old self so hard to accept? Isn't this exactly the kind of situation when one does that sort of thing? If I still had long hair I would dramatically cut it off, but I already did that years ago. Much to mother's chagrin."

With a spike of pain she saw her mother wringing her hands over her girl's self-inflicted scarcrow hair, and before the memories could fully form and suck her in, she hauled herself back to the present. It was getting harder to stay there, she noticed. She struggled to concentrate on convincing Duncan he'd done nothing wrong, but her thoughts were sluggish, kept pulling her into the past. Also she was increasingly distracted by her bladder.

She gave it another desperate try. „Besides, we are going into battle. I might not even survive. I woudn't want to die a virgin." She flashed him a lopsided smile. „Isn't it normal to seek solace in sex before a battle? I think I overheard someone saying that. Or was that after...?" All thoughts vanished when the urge to pee grew particularly insistent, sending a shudder through her body. „Ugh, look, can we put that aside for a moment until I get back from watering the bushes? I'm bursting."

With that she rose, wincing at the uncomfortable pressure and aching legs, and shuffled away as fast as her unsteady knees allowed.

Duncan watched her leave, amused disbelief tempering his guilt.

Was this really a noblewoman? Pragmatic and straightforward, speaking freely of sex and peeing, walking around naked unashamedly and with her virginal blood smeared on her legs... then again she basically had told him to shut up and stop questioning her decision, so there was at least some noblewoman in there.

He sobered. What was he to do now? Just ignore the matter as she requested? After all, what would talking even accomplish, now that the deed was done? Possibly she was just repressing her emotions again. But even then, was this the right place and time to work on that? In the great scheme of things, this was a minor problem. Was is better to confront it now, so it didn't fester? Or should he allow her some rest and return to the matter when she was generally more stable?

He rubbed a hand across his eyes. And there he'd been believing everything had played out so well. He wasn't equipped for this. There was no manual for Warden Commanders for how to deal with griefstricken female recruits they had just deflowered. Then again, there was also no manual for how to hastily rebuild a nation's Wardens in the face of an impending Blight, and he'd had to figure out that one, too. Among other things. Such was his lot in life. Easy tasks were what happened to other people.

When Kiendra returned, she took a long drink from the canteen before pouring water on a rag – another piece of her former gown – and wiping the blood from herself. She unabashedly cleaned Duncan as well, ignoring his feeble protests that he could do that himself. Then she fetched the threadbare blanket and threw it at him. She paused to scratch her Mabari behind the ear, then knelt beside the fire and poked it back into life, slowly adding twigs so as not to choke it. Duncan wrapped the blanket around him and watched her move about, allowing her to decide whether to return to the conversation. Finally she sighed, busying her hands with skinning and picking apart a twig.

„I meant what I said." She muttered, still staring into the fire. „I'm not holding anything against you. I'm glad it happened this way. Even if it was kind of an accident. A good kind of accident, I mean... like when noone gets hurt and everyone ends up laughing because it was ridiculous? Only it wasn't ridiculous. Also, earlier I sounded like I would have jumped into this with anyone, I didn't mean... Well, in my sorry state maybe I would have, but..." The twig lost inch by inch of its length as she broke them off and threw them into the flames.

Duncan patiently waited for her to finish her train of thought, slightly amused but sympathetic to her troubles. She did sound sincere, and he hesitantly decided to believe her after all. It was a relief, letting go of that little, nagging worry that she might resent him. He would have accepted it, deserved as it was, but it would have been a real shame.

The twig disappeared entirely and Kiendra scowled at her empty hand. „What I'm trying to say and completely butchering is: I'm glad it happened, and that it was you. And that's because everything you did was exactly right, so... thank you. I'm really... thank you."

He blinked, taken slightly off guard and certain that was just inexperience speaking, but pleasantly touched all the same. A genuine smile tugged at his lips. „You're most welcome. But I still feel like I did you an injustice."

And there was his compulsive propriety, rearing its head and getting in his way again. He mentally kicked himself for not letting the matter rest. It wasn't like him to lose control over his words, but then he hadn't been this much out of his element for a long time. That made his thoughts slow and his mouth run off ahead of them.

He cringed inwardly as he watched Kiendra's shoulders tense. Maybe her hating him was inevitable after all, if for entirely different reasons than he'd worried about. Oh well, as long as they kept talking about this, she'd be distracted enough not to descend into grief. He had no inspiration for other conversational topics at the moment anyway. He tried to look apologetic while she rounded on him.

„Why are you so stubbornly holding on to guilt? What else do I have to say? I told you it was fine. Doesn't my word count for anything?" Oh yes, she was definitely annoyed. The frosty glare she levelled at him was impressively menacing. It reminded him of someone momentarily, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Instead he blundered on in voicing all his doubts. In for a bronze bit...

„I accept that." Well, he was working on it. „And I am glad that you don't fault me for my actions. I simply cannot help feeling a little inadequate." Which was quite the understatement. Even if he believed she was fine with it, even if she meant all that about a rite of passage, that he of all people had done it was, to him, inexusable.

He had worried enough about just fucking her, that could have turned out all sorts of bad, but this – this transformed him from some guy who comforted her in an hour of need into someone special, someone who did something unique with her.

„Inadequate." She inquired sourly. And maker, that glare was truly something, he could see it winning half her fights for her.

He smiled apologetically. „I feel like the worst possible choice for that particular deed." That was the plain truth, but it occurred to him belatedly that he'd have to sort through what he could and couldn't offer as explanation.

The glare morphed into utter bafflement. „What makes you think that?"

Because he'd be dead soon and she deserved to have someone by her side, someone to share a bond with over the experience, he thought, but aloud he said: „You could have picked someone younger in camp."

Her face twisted in disgust. „Really? That's bothering you? It's not like I have to marry you, you know. Besides, you're a fine man, I don't see you rotting away yet."

Only because she couldn't look inside his head. He suppressed a shudder. „Thank you for saying that, but you need not bolster my ego. We're both aware I was the only option available. I'm glad you can find no fault with me, but with time, this may become a painful memory when it should have been a moment of joy." Again he'd said too much. He wanted to be distracting, not depress Kiendra further.

She shook her head in disbelief. „Duncan. Why would this become... I mean, circumstances aside, this was good. Which

I already said.

Why wouldn't I remember it fondly?"

Yep, he'd definitely said too much and talked himself into a corner. He couldn't tell her the true reasons, so he made a weak attempt at humour. „I imagine a lady like you must have dreamed to be deflowered by a handsome, young nobleman who's madly in love, on a soft bed strewn with rosepetals or some such setting." That's how he assumed most girls dreamed about it. For a moment he worried he'd gone off in the wrong direction and set Kiendra on the path of memory after all, but it slid past her.

She snorted, loudly and very much not like a lady. „For the last time, to be clear. I find being deflowered...", her lips twisted distastefully around the word, „ ... by a seasoned warrior, on the hard forest floor, while on the run and aching all over, suits my taste just fine." She rose, dusted off her knees and returned to the leafy seat, which was rather scattered and flattened by now. He made room for her on the gambeson so she could sit down beside him and she sighed, closing her eyes in bliss as she stretched her legs out.

He couldn't argue with that. She couldn't really know much about her tastes yet, but she did seem like the sort to enjoy this sort of thing over rose petals and silk sheets. „Still, it shouldn't have been someone who doesn't even..." He stopped himself, not having intended to say that aloud, but she finished the sentence for him.

„Who doesn't even feel anything for me? Relax, of course you don't. You barely know me. I'm not some sentimental Orlesian damsel you need to sweettalk."

Now he was the one to snort loudly. „I noticed. And I was going to say "doesn't even love you', which, you may notice, sounds a tiny bit less drastic. I hope you are aware that by implying complete indifference you're making me look like a cold, lecherous arsehole."

Her head whipped around to face him, eyes wide. „Oh? So you do have some feelings towards me? Is this the moment you confess your undying love?" It took him a moment of mental flailing to realize she was joking. One corner of her mouth had risen a fraction, just barely a smile, but compared to what he'd seen of her up till now it was a brilliant sunrise after a week of thunderstorms.

Relief swamped him and made his laugh come out barely this side of hysterical. „Ha, dream on whelp. You're two decades late for that."

„Oh poo. And here I was plotting on becoming the commander's pampered favourite and have all the camp do my bidding." She pouted for all of two heartbeats, then turned away and started bowing and rotating her rump to stretch her back.

Joking. He could do joking. „No chance of that anyway - you'll be my subordinate and as such too lowly to meet my standards." A persistant twinge in his lower back made him wish he could still bow that far.

Something in Kiendra's back popped and she gave a contented sigh. „Thus dies my girlish dream. All right, so no unding love for me, and not total indifference either. Hm. How about... desperate desire?" She shot him a piercing glare he only recognized from context as an exaggerated seductive glance.

His eyebrow twitched. „Not me who was desperate, as we established earlier, so no."

She pulled up her legs and hugged them, propping her chin on her knees. „Hm, something less carnal then. Maybe... adoring awe?"

He snorted. „High opinion of yourself? Try again."

Once again she couldn't keep up the ridiculous pout. „Innocent infatuation? Fleeting fancy?"

He raised his eyebrows and regarded her sceptically. „I thought you were no Orlesian damsel? Because I think I'm hearing one."

She threw a handful of leaves at him, but the tiny almost-smile returned. „Fraternal fondness then."

He pretended to ponder, hand stroking his beard. „Can it be fraternal if you are a woman?" Kiendra's gaze flicked away for just a heartbeat, but she was back with a another offer immediately, so he filed it away for later.

„Friendly fascination?" She asked, fingers drumming against her ankle.

He cocked his head, nodding. „Still a bit over the top, but getting there."

She threw up her hand in defeat. „Why don't you propose something then. I'm running out of alliterations."

He sat up straighter. „Me? I did not start this. You were doing fine, please continue."

„Spoilsport. If I have to name your feelings you have to name mine." She returned to her resting pose, eyes fixed on him, waiting.

Well, that smile was worth the effort. He wrecked his brain to find something appropriately ridiculous. „What do you say to arising attraction?" Maker, he was bad at this.

She scrunched up her face in thought, or maybe to suppress a laugh, then shook her head. „Naah, too future-oriented. Battle, darkspawn, Rendon Howe, let's not get carried away."

„Reverent respect?" There, that was better.

She frowned and pointed a finger at him. „Now who has the overly high opinion of themself?"

He raised an eyebrow. „What are you saying, overly? As Warden Commander, I am entitled to a certain degree of conceit. But if you insist... I am willing to accept appreciative admiration."

The frown did not lessen. „But don't those words mean nearly the same thing? When you admire something, you appreciate it, too. Maybe the other way around, admiring appreciation? Is that better? I'm not sure..."

He waved her off. „Nevermind that. The only thing that matters is: does the description fit?"

„Hm. No. I mean I appreciate you, and I'm sure you're impressive, but I haven't seen you do anything that admirable just yet." She said with a twinkle in her eye and a small, teasing smirk.

He huffed, watching her closely. It was like her cheeks neded to get reaccustomed to pulling her lips further up, he mused. He was out of ideas and decided to end the game while things were looking good. „Well then, it's not an alliteration, but how about mild affection?" He offered with a genuine smile.

She swallowed whatever she had planned to say, looking sheepish. „Mild but...mutual?"

„I certainly hope so." He said warmly, and he meant it.

Success! The smile returned, still tiny, but just a fraction more confident. „That sounds reasonable."

Duncan nodded. „Mild affection it is then."

„Agreed." Kiendra stuck out her hand with a mock-serious expression, which he did his best to mimic while sealing the deal with a handshake.

Kiendra smiled, and Duncan was glad to see that this time the expression deserved to be called by that name, even if it could still be paired with the attribute "tentative'.

Letting go of his hand, she asked: „Now that we've established our mutual mild affection, would you object to a bit of cuddling? Does that fall within the boundaries of the agreement? It's getting cold, we have only the one blanket and I'm not getting back into those smelly clothes anytime soon."

He chuckled and unwrapped the blanket. She slipped in beside him as he lay down and spread it out over them. After some wriggling they found a position comfortable for them both, with Duncan on his back and Kiendra mostly draped over his chest. She was heavy, but the weight felt good on him, and it occurred to him that he was actually allowed to enjoy, maybe even try and relax a little.

He had, after all, succeeded in his task, despite the unforseen complication. Everything had worked out, he'd kept the taint under control, he had apparently been a help and his recruit didn't hate him. He still wasn't quite happy with the situation, but there was nothing more he could do. Right now there was a naked woman on top of him who for some reason wanted to be there, and who he had no more obligations toward for tonight.

Not that he didn't have desires towards her. The whispers in his head disturbed his rest, crawling back from their banishment and clamoring for attention. He swatted them back impatiently, and strangely enough it was easier than before. Or maybe there was nothing strange to it. He had conquered them once, while performing an act of passion, and he could certainly do so again while lying there peacefully.

And that in itself would be difficult enough, unfamiliar as it was. Idle time for peaceful dozing just wasn't something he was granted frequently, and neither was peaceful sleep. He hoped for Kiendra's sake that the nightmares would spare him tonight. She needed and deserved a full night's sleep to regain her strength. His palm started to wander over her back absently, and she stirred. He stilled, not wanting to disturb her when she was drifting off. „Sorry." He whispered.

She shook her head slightly, pressing her cheek into his chest with each move. „It's fine. Feels nice. Soothing."

Well, soothing was exactly what was required, so he continued to slowly trace the outlines of muscles and bones wherever he could reach comfortably. Kiendra wriggled some more, then sighed contendedly, melting into him.

Oh yes, this was very nice and he would enjoy it while it lasted. Which proved to be easier said than done, as he found out after a while. He was again reminded how woefully unaccustomed he was to being this close to another person. Everything was pleasant, but at the same time unfamiliar and distracting. He was acutely aware of Kiendra's body in all the places it touched his, of her breath stirring his chesthair, of the few wispy strands of hair that had escaped her hairtie and were tickling his shoulder. He was also quite warm, between the blanket, Kiendra's body and the low campfire which she all but shielded him from.

All that kept him uncomfortably alert, no matter how much he wanted to let go of his tension. He had to work himself into accepting every seperate little thing, convincing his mind that it was fine, that there was no danger and that it was allowed to indulge feel good about it. Slowly and deliberately, little by little, he willed himself to relax.

He suceeded with his body only, which he still counted as an accomplishment. He also managed to calm his nerves to a certain degree. But between his fretful mind, the unfamiliar sensations and the nagging whispers and suppressed urges that stirred at each new path his hand took, at each time Kiendras chest expanded against his, sleep remained distant.

Attempting to occupy himself instead, Duncan allowed his thoughts to drift back toward the matter of Kiendra's virginity. He still struggled to fully wrap his mind around what had happened.

Should he not have felt it? Had he felt it? He had been more intent on her face at the time. She had hissed when he entered her, but there had been no indication to take it for anything but lust. He had never taken a virgin before. He had known a few though, as well as heard a few stories, and now that he thought about it, there were often hints indicating their lack of experience, an air of shyness maybe, or a certain clumsiness, sometimes efforts to conceal those very hints. He went through Kiendra's actions an reactions throughout the night and came to the conclusion that there had been no clues whatsoever, at any point.

He debated himself whether to address that. He knew he should probably just let it go and sleep, eventually, but he was wide awake and in the end curiosity won over caution. He would not have woken Kiendra up for it, but her breathing indicated she, too, had a difficult time falling asleep.

He gently kneaded her thigh to get her attention before he spoke. „You don't behave like a virgin. Or recent virgin even."

She tensed beneath his hands. „Still going on about that?"

He rubbed her arm in apology. „It bothers me. I'm working on accepting things. No rushing an old man." He tried to keep his voice warm and humorous. „I'm just wondering how I didn't notice."

She huffed irritatedly, but relaxed. She was silent for a while and he assumed she was truly fed up with the subject and drifting into sleep, when she spoke after all. „Well, I was only technically a virgin." She mumbled into his chest but he was learning to recognize the amusement in her raspy voice.

Intrigued, he raised an eyebrow. „And how, pray tell, does that work?"

She turned so she could look at him, placing her chin on top of her hands over his breastbone. There was definitely an amused glint in her eyes when they met his. „Well, there are more ways than one a woman can... receive a man."

His second eyebrow joined the first somewhere along the hairline. That certainly explained the lack of shame to a certain degree. He felt the urge to laugh at himself, but suppressed it out of habit, protecting his air of dignity. He shouldn't act so surprised. He was giving the impression he knew absolutely nothing of young womens" habits. No matter that it was absolutely true. „Of course, how foolish of me. Most experiment with hands and mouth first, there's no reason nobility should be any different." If she could speak freely of this, so could he. He was not trying to fluster her, that would be ridiculous and inappropriate, why would he do that.