Read Rise (War Witch Book 1) Online
Authors: Cain S. Latrani
It was an odd thing, she felt, that the Blessed often viewed life the way they did. Running from the horrors they'd seen in the arms of lovers, losing themselves to drink, or whatever other distraction they could come up with to dull the pain for a while. They were out of place in the world around them, often as not, even though they were there to save it.
Running her fingers through her hair, she gave the quiet room an annoyed look for a moment, then frowned heavily. Dammit, the mood really was gone now. Even though she'd been starting to feel slightly better. Her imagination was as traitorous as her tongue.
She felt her Rabbit sigh, chastising her for being so practical all the time. She gave it a shrug, pointing out she couldn't help it. It warbled that it knew, and loved her anyway. She was grateful, and felt slightly less alone.
Deciding to take a bath, possibly a cold one, or warm if her brain wouldn't be a jerk, she put everything else away in her mind. She'd made her decision, and there was nothing left to do but carry through. One day, she was sure, Chara and Esteban both would forgive her.
A few hours later, with the sky growing dark, she was coming out, drying her hair on a towel, when she heard a gentle knock at the door. Realizing the time, she wrapped the towel around herself and went to answer it, thinking it Tia with dinner. The little Halfling was far too gracious to her patrons, and Ramora had come to adore her and her wife both for their kindness, treating everyone under their roof as their own family.
Opening the door, she found Izra standing there, wearing a simple white cotton dress, a serving tray in hand. The Deep Elf's eye skipped down for a beat, brightened, then came back up as she gave a grin, holding out the tray.
"Dinner?"
Ramora smiled a bit and took it, nodding for her to come on in as she set the meal aside. Izra closed the door behind her, leaning against it as Ramora checked and found the plate had been picked at. Giving the Elf a snide look, she took the small bottle of brandy and covered the food up, not overly hungry.
"Sorry, it smelled good," Izra shrugged.
Ramora waved it away, not worried about it as she had a drink, feeling the warmth ease her worries.
"I wanted to stop by sooner," Izra said after a moment, her face clouding with sadness. "What with everything that's happened, I just couldn't."
Feeling for her, having picked up on the special relationship she'd shared with Tanna, the warrior nodded and offered a soft smile. She hadn't been at her best, either, so she understood.
"It's hard to believe she's really gone," the Elf said after a moment, still leaning against the door. "Tanna, I mean. I always assumed I'd be the one to go first. She had that special sight, you know. Always saw things before they got to her. Me, I'm just reckless and stupid. Yet, here I am, while she's not. Why do you think that is?"
Ramora wasn't sure how to answer that. She didn't understand it, either. Giving the Elf an uncertain look, she touched the mark on her brow.
"Yeah, I know," she replied, looking at the one that adorned the back of her right hand. "Because we're Blessed."
The warrior set the bottle aside, having lost her taste for that as well.
"Sorry," Izra said, catching the look that crossed the other woman’s face. "I know you're dealing with it, too. Leto, I mean. I know you guys were in love."
Ramora offered a slightly embarrassed smile at that, shaking her head and signing out that that wasn't exactly true.
"In lust then," the Elf corrected, smiling slightly. "For us, it's pretty much the same thing, isn't it?"
She nodded at that, unable to argue the Blessed of Hepheron's point. They were agents of the Divine. They didn't get to fall in love, not really. It was too risky. The closest they got was just good old-fashioned lust. That brought a bitter smile to Ramora's face as she thought of Chara again.
"It was the same for us, really," Izra admitted, her tone heavy with sorrow. "I mean, we loved each other, but it wasn't like real love. It was mostly lust. It helped us sleep. It was enough, to get through, you know?"
Ramora nodded a little. Leto had helped her get through. She felt a little bad, knowing he'd wanted more than she could give. He seemed to understand that, though, and she was comforted by it, to a degree.
"I should leave you alone," Izra said after a moment. "I just wanted to come by and say I'm sorry. If I hadn't frozen up, Leto would still be alive."
Ramora had to move quick to catch the Elf by the arm and draw her back. Shaking her head, she told her to stay. She’d been alone enough for one day, and felt her friend had as well.
"Probably," the Elf nodded, eyes weary. "It's been hard, Ramora. I'm tired, but I can't seem to sleep. Isn't that stupid?"
Her voice cracking at the last, Ramora drew her in, holding Izra as she wept. She gave the door a soft kick to swing it shut. No one should happen by and see a Blessed in such a state. No one should see how weak they really were. How fragile and mortal.
Izra sank into her, clutching at her, overwhelmed with grief. Tanna had been more than her lover, she'd been her best friend. With her gone, the Elf felt lost, alone, and more afraid than she'd ever been. In the warrior priestess’ arms, she found an ounce of comfort, and clung to it desperately.
Rocking her gently, Ramora let her cry until she couldn't anymore, her soft sniffles stilling as her wave of loss passed. Pulling away, Izra wiped her eyes and tried to smile.
"We're such tiny things, aren't we?" she asked. "Trying to grasp around in the dark for something to hold on to, falling apart when we lose it, and clutching at the next thing we find. Forgive me for being a burden on you. I know you're grieving, too."
Ramora brushed the Elf's hair back from her face and smiled, shaking her head. It was alright. She was tired of being alone with her pain. It felt easier to shoulder with someone else there with her.
"Thanks," the other woman said. "But I should probably like, let you get dressed, or something."
Ramora remembered she was wearing nothing but a towel, and shrugged. Izra snickered a bit at that, the offhand way she blew the matter off cute to her eyes. Of course, she'd always found the Blessed of Ramor cute. Tanna had as well.
"She liked you a lot, you know," she said slowly. "Tanna. She thought you were pretty. Kind of wanted to get in your pants, too."
Ramora grinned, giving Izra a coy look and a wink, making the Elf laugh.
"Trust me, you'd have enjoyed it," she said.
Giving her a soft poke in the stomach, the Blessed of Ramor gave her another sly wink.
"Now that's a tempting offer," Izra said, giving her another appreciative look. "Especially right now. So, you know, don't tease."
The warrior leaned against the bedpost for a moment. She'd only been half-teasing. Looking around the room for a moment in uncertainty, her cornflower eyes turned back to meet the Elf's garnet ones, and she smiled timidly.
She didn't want to be alone. More than anything, she wanted to feel another’s touch. To lose herself, for a little while at least, in something other than her sadness. She needed it, the silence in her mind that it brought.
Izra stepped over and leaned in to kiss her tenderly, savoring the feel of her lips. Ramora welcomed it, eager to quiet her mind. The Elf smelled good, her dark toffee skin gleaming in the lamplight appealing as she pulled back, studying Ramora's face carefully.
"You want this?" she asked quietly.
Ramora nodded and wrapped her arms around the other woman to pull her back in.
Izra nuzzled against her neck for a moment. "I want it, too. Is that okay?"
Kissing her ear to answer her question, Ramora felt her arms snake around the Elf’s waist, pulling her snug.
"I just can't be alone another night," the Elf whimpered. "It's okay to not want that right now, isn't it?"
Leaning back to look into her eyes, finding such sadness, she nodded, stroking her face. It was okay. It was always okay to find comfort, even if it was just passing. The world was too cruel, their lives too short, for it not to be okay.
"Thank you," Izra offered softly.
Ramora kissed her, giving her all the passion she had, winding her sorrow, suffering and pain into it, venting out all her hurt in a single moment of need. The Deep Elf returned it fully, holding her close, needing her just as much in return.
They savored just that for a while, the feel of each other, the being held in return. The exquisite passion of the kiss, neither wanting it to end, letting it draw out long enough to silence their agony of not being in the arms of the ones they truly longed for.
It was a strange thing, Ramora felt, that the agents of the Divine were so very fragile, seeking solace anywhere they could, in a world they couldn't truly belong in.
When Izra finally pulled back a bit, Ramora gasped out a breath, her body feeling overheated from the feel of the Elf. With a smile, her fellow Blessed nodded, having the same reaction, and tugged at the towel till it fell free, leaving the other woman bare to her touch.
Gripping her arms as she held her, Ramora wished she could groan openly as the Elf left warm kisses along her neck and throat, easing her way lower, hands traveling up her back as her head sank to nestle between the warrior’s breasts, where she rested herself for a moment.
Ramora's fingers tugged the ribbon that held the Elf's long hair back, letting it fall free so she could tangle her hands in it, the silken feel making her tremble with need. Izra turned hazy eyes up at her for a moment, before capturing a hardened nipple, her lips teasing it fuller, making her new-found lover all but melt in the floor.
Faint as a whisper, her tongue drifted down over Ramora's stomach, pausing to savor the hard muscle there for a moment before the Elf fell fully to her knees, her hands straying down to stroke hard thighs for a moment, then up to cup the warrior's full breasts as she savored the feel and smell of her.
Ramora felt the room spin a little at the skillful touch of the Elf’s tongue, making her shudder in delight as she grabbed the bedpost for support, draping a leg around the Elf's shoulder, her free hand urging her on. It'd been too long since she'd known a feminine touch, and welcomed it eagerly.
Hungry to be at peace in her own mind as well, Izra buried herself between the warrior’s legs, finding solace and joy there from the darkness that threatened her will to fight on. Her warmth, the tremble in her legs, the sound of her breathing, even the feel of her skin growing moist from the heat of her body, all washed away the Elf's agony.
The cold hard reality that had ruined her earlier mood was unable to intrude on her this time as Ramora rocked her hips against the Elf's nimble touch. Far quicker than she'd expected, she felt her body tighten, the artful way Izra manipulated her driving any thought from her mind save that of the pleasure she was given. Fingers caressed, guiding her as she moved against the source of her desire, making her lose all sense of anything in the world but that.
When her release came, it shook her hard, leaving her panting for breath as she clung to Izra, hands gripping the Elf's shoulders tight. To her amazement, her lover teased it out, making the ripples of gratification go on and on, until she could take it no more and almost collapsed, her legs giving out fully in sheer bliss.
Izra caught her, easing her down onto the bed, where Ramora gasped for air, her entire body humming. Resting her moist chin on her stomach, the Elf smiled at her as she slowly stilled, the room swaying wonderfully. Reaching out, she rested a hand on her head and smiled.
"Had enough?" Izra asked.
Ramora shook her head, reaching both arms out for her.
Standing, the Elf unbuttoned her dress, letting it fall away, her skin glowing in the faint light. Ramora wanted to weep at her beauty, unmarred and perfect, unlike her own. Well-muscled and lean, the Elf urged her back onto the bed as Ramora stroked her smaller, but firm breasts lovingly. Reluctantly, she left off of them to crawl back, letting her lover cover her.
"Time enough for that," Izra promised with a soft whisper, lounging across her, squirming a little against Ramora's larger bosom. "More than enough, I think."
Laughing silently, she stroked the Elf's long, elegantly tapered ears, getting a soft groan of delight from her as Izra nuzzled her neck, kissing lightly. She felt more than good, Ramora thought, tracing fingers down her back, receiving a wonderful shiver in return.
They teased at each other for a while, soft kisses and gentle stroking, taking their time to enjoy. There was no rush. No need to be frantic about it. They had all night. Ramora planned to spend it, too.
When Izra drew her leg over Ramora's, her thigh nestling comfortably as she rested against the other woman’s, she got a smile for it, making her world brighten. Kissing her slowly, leisurely, the Elf moved against her, feeling her respond in kind.
This, too, they did not hurry. Rocking slowly, savoring the feel of each other as their bodies reacted, giving them all they needed to slide against one another, they took it slow, losing themselves in the moment. Gentle kisses turned languid, lasting long as Izra slipped her fingers in Ramora's briefly before they wrapped each other in their arms once more.
Gentleness slowly gave way to eagerness as they reached higher together, their movements growing more hungry, by increments measured in the soft moans and sighs that slipped from the Elf when her mouth wasn't owned by her lover. Need rose, driving them on, Izra burying her face against Ramora's neck, gasping out softly whispered pleas.
Nibbling her ear, she grasped the Elf tighter, bucking against her, too lost in desire to remember she couldn't make a sound, her panting all the encouragement the other needed. It was the most wonderful of slow tortures, as it built, both eager for it, but trying to put it off, wanting this to last.
When it came, Izra's cries were music to Ramora's ears, her body shuddering in release as she kept moving, unable to stop. Her own striking a moment later, she clung to the dark-skinned Elf desperately, her entire body alive with pleasure as it clenched, holding her firm.