FWFW 3 - 83

Hey all,

We're getting close to the end of FWFW 3. I have one more chapter to post tomorrow, and then I'll post a survey about what direction you'd all like me to take next (which POV I should focus on first.) That said, I probably won't start the next FWFW book for a little while - I'm going to focus on VOT for a while and plan out some chapters for my new project - the one I posted the sample of, "Juliet."

I just want to be super transparent about that because I know some of you are here for FWFW only. It might be a month or two before I start posting chapters from those POVs again, so I understand if you'd like to end your patronage for a while!

As always, thank you very much! Let me know if you like or hate something about this chapter and the one tomorrow.

-Plum

Olivia looked at Tiladia with increasing interest, studying the way her mouth moved and the expressions in her eyes as the beautiful dragon spirit told her about all that had transpired in First Landing. She couldn’t believe that the person before her had a body made of a magical alloy that Issa had created. She couldn’t fathom how the saliva coating her teeth and the perfectly articulate tongue could once have been stiff, hard metal.

“I feel like you’re examining me more than you’re listening to me,” Tiladia said.

“You’re just so . . . amazing!” Olivia said, reaching out to squeeze the smaller woman’s shoulder. “The metal just took on this aspect? Can you eat? Do you sleep?”

“Oh, Ancient Gods!” Tiladia huffed, blowing out a long breath. “Yes, to all of the above. Issa sang her song of creation well. She willed me to have a body that was natural and alive, and the components she used in my creation were truly rare. I require rest, but not any more than someone else with an improved racial status. I can eat—what I consume is turned into Energy and used to nourish my body, much like the food you eat.”

“Will you . . . die?” Olivia hastily added, “I mean, eventually?”

“Much like a human who advances their race significantly, you and Morgan, for example, age won’t be much of an issue for me. I’m sure I could be killed—I have a heart, a Core, a brain. If my pathways were disrupted by trauma, I would suffer just as you would.”

“I’m sorry for the personal questions, Tiladia! I’m just fascinated by all of this. Though, I should get going to the council, don’t you think? I can’t imagine they’ll be meeting much longer, and I need Morgan to point me toward Bronwyn.”

“Shall I come along?”

“Oh, that’s right! You’re no longer stuck here! What will you do now that you’re free?” Olivia asked as she started walking toward the front door.

“I want to learn and grow—I want to try to recapture some of the glory of my old life. If I grow strong enough, I’ll seek a return visit to my homeworld so that I might gaze into the eyes of my kin once more. In the meantime, I’m happy here. I love Morgan and Issa, and I want to continue to spend time with them.” Her voice sounded wistful at first but then more convicted, and Olivia gave her a second look—she really did love Morgan and Issa. How strange that she’d found such a connection in the weird limbo-service life she’d been cursed with!

“They are good people, aren’t they?”

“Indeed, and let’s not forget about young Ykleedra. She’ll need my help with her siblings, that’s certain!”

“Oh, God! I can imagine! I’ll try to give them a visit, but first, I have to figure out what’s going on with Bronwyn.” As she finished speaking, Olivia was startled to see the front door open, and the very object of her words step into the foyer.

“Hey,” Bronwyn said with complete nonchalance.

“Bron!” Olivia’s voice squeaked in her surprise. She stepped forward and reached out to hug Bronwyn, saying, “I was just on my way to interrupt the council so Morgan could point me in your direction!”

“Well, a bird told me you were here, so no need for that.” Bronwyn winked at her and pulled her into an embrace that felt very much like home. Bronwyn smelled like sweat and dust, with an undertone of woodsmoke, and Olivia breathed in the scent hungrily.

“A bird . . .” she murmured into Bronwyn’s neck. She opened her eyes, pushing Bronwyn back a few inches to look at her, and that’s when she noticed the scars peeking out around her jaw and the strange way her hair was lying over the right side of her head. “What happened?”

“Don’t look at it,” Bronwyn said, pushing Olivia back. “Damn it! I swear I didn’t care about the scar until now. I guess I care that you still think I’m pretty.” She took another step back, looked over Olivia’s shoulder, and narrowed her eyes. “Who’s this?”

“Uh . . .” Olivia started, but Tiladia cut her off, coming forward.

“Lady Bronwyn, it is I, Tiladia! Welcome home!”

“Til? Holy shit, you look great!”

“Thank you!” Tiladia said, pulling off an actual blush and curtseying.

“Tiladia, you’re blushing!” Olivia said, turning her attention away from Bronwyn’s scar but not forgetting about it—she’d get an explanation soon.

“Oh, wow . . .” Bronwyn said, smiling at Tiladia and clearly enjoying her discomfort.

“I’ll be stepping out now,” Tiladia said, curtseying again and then quickly moving toward the door.

“Til, I was just teasing! Don’t go!” Bronwyn said, reaching out.

“Don’t go!” Olivia said at the same time.

“Don’t worry, ladies,” Tiladia said, turning with a grin, once again blowing Olivia’s mind with her beauty and natural appearance. “I’m not embarrassed. Come now; I’ve lived a long time! Still, I will be heading out—you two can use some time alone if I’m not wrong.”

“We’ll catch up later,” Olivia called as the dragon-spirit-woman walked out of the tower. She glanced back to Bronwyn and saw that she had eyes only for her. “You don’t understand how amazing she is,” Olivia said. “Issa crafted that body!”

“Oh?” Bronwyn asked, glancing toward the door, then back at Olivia. “That’s cool, but I don’t have much time, and I want you to get all of it. Come on, let’s go to your room, and we can talk.”

“Nobody’s here, Bron. We could sit in the library or . . .” Bronwyn hushed her by stepping forward and kissing her. She pressed hungrily at Olivia’s mouth, her breath hot, and her hands groping at her back and butt. Olivia kissed her back, and then they stumbled together to the stairs and up to the fifth level. Laughing and holding hands, they ran down the hallway to Olivia’s room—why Bronwyn picked her room, Olivia didn’t know—and burst into it, slamming the door behind them.

Bronwyn started to pull Olivia toward the bed, and Olivia went along at first, but then a wave of guilt rolled through her, originating in her gut, and she pulled back. “Wait, Bron. We need to talk. I need to tell you something . . .”

“Liv, don’t stress about my scar. I got surprised by a huge troll, and she bit off a bunch of my scalp. I’m sure I’ll heal more when I advance my race again . . .”

“It’s not the scar, Bron. I mean, yeah, I’m sorry that happened to you, and, yes, you idiot, you’re still beautiful! It’s, well, it’s me. I did something . . . I don’t . . .” Olivia choked up. Her carefully rehearsed lines and logical explanations fell away from her mind, and she began to panic. She clamped her mouth shut and paced in a small circle at the foot of her bed, stealing glances at Bronwyn’s puzzled face as she sat on the edge of the mattress.

“This is weird,” Bronwyn finally said. “I thought I was the one who’d be hiding my face, stressing out about how I was going to explain what I did.” True to form, Bronwyn grinned and managed a wry chuckle, despite Olivia’s distress.

“What you did?” Olivia asked, finally making eye contact, her voice small and shaky.

“Yeah, Liv. You’re going to hate me, I’m pretty sure.”

“I couldn’t, Bronwyn! I couldn’t hate you! I love you! I really do!”

“Man! You really are worked up. What’s the matter? Come on, spit it out. Come sit next to me. I promise that nothing you say will be worse than my news. How could I be too upset with someone who loves me?”

“It’s that bad? You go first, then,” Olivia said, sitting down on the mattress next to Bronwyn.

“Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy! You’ll hear my news, and then you’ll get all worked up and storm out, and then I’ll never know what you were about to confess. Come on, tell me what it is.”

“I . . . do you remember the girl I told you about from my cohort? Ad . . .”

“Adaida. Yeah, of course, I do. What happened, Liv?” Bronwyn’s voice had lost its joking tone, and she spoke softly, like she was trying to coax something out of her. Their faces were inches apart, and Bronwyn’s big green-gold eyes were staring into hers. Olivia took a big, shaky breath, then nodded. She had to get this out.

“We kissed. She . . . I feel so fucking stupid and horny when she’s around. I’m an idiot!”

“You kissed,” Bronwyn repeated softly, her eyes going unfocused for a moment. Then, she leaned forward and kissed Olivia gently, sweetly. “Like this?”

“No,” Olivia breathed, excitement and relief washing through her. She reached up and groped gently at Bronwyn’s neck, then pushed into her, pressing her curves into Bronwyn’s. They fell back to the mattress, and Olivia kissed hungrily at Bronwyn’s mouth, licking between her lips, tasting her, and breathing hot, quick breaths with soft little moans escaping her the whole while. “More like this,” she sighed.

“Lucky girl,” Bronwyn breathed, kissing her back, pulling at her robes, trying to get her hands up under them. “But you love me, right?”

“Yes, I love you,” Olivia said, desire flaring brightly within her.

“As long as you keep loving me, Olivia, I’ll just consider myself lucky too.”

After that, there wasn’t much to say, and Olivia and Bronwyn fell into a furious bout of love-making. They couldn’t pull each other’s clothes off fast enough, and everything Olivia touched on Bronwyn’s long, pale, freckled body seemed somehow new and familiar to her. She explored every nook and cranny, lingering on the scars that marred the right side of her head, caressing them with her fingers, kissing them, and then moving on to parts she’d traversed dozens of times, tracing Bronwyn’s lines and curves, exploring better-known territory.

Bronwyn seemed desperate and hungry, and it wasn’t lost on Olivia—the pleasure she felt from Bronwyn’s ravenous kisses, licks, and caresses was tempered by the knowledge that Bronwyn had something to confess, something she’d said was worse than anything Olivia could say. Still, she pushed those fears and doubts to the back of her mind, and she embraced the sex, and it wasn’t for nearly two hours before they lay, spent and exhausted, their clothes scattered around the bed, their bodies slick with sweat.

Olivia took Bronwyn’s long fingers in hers, holding them up so she could admire the contrast of her pale hand with Bronwyn’s more tanned, scarred fingers. She rubbed her thumb along one particularly long, white scar under the bottom knuckle of Bronwyn’s ring finger. “What’s this one from?”

“Morgan! That prick hit me with his sword when we were sparring,” Bronwyn laughed. “I’m going to miss him.”

“What?” Olivia scooted to her side, propping her head up on an elbow so she could look into the other woman’s face. “Out with it, Bron.”

“Liv, I have to leave. I have to go away from Fanwath for a while.”

“Away from Fanwath? Off this world? Why? For how long?” Olivia’s mind raced, and so did her heart, literally beginning to beat rapidly, and she recognized a true panic attack coming on—the likes of which she hadn’t felt since she was working on her Ph.D.

“Chill, Liv. Take a breath. Come on, look in my eyes. You know I love you, right? Nothing can change that.” Bronwyn took her hand and pressed Olivia’s palm flat to her bare chest, taking a deep, slow breath. “Copy me. Come on, breathe like me, and then I’ll tell you the rest.”

“Don’t patronize . . .” Olivia started to say, but when she saw the honest concern in Bronwyn’s eyes, she stopped herself. She stared into those big eyes, and she breathed, slowly and deeply. The whole while, her own eyes started to fill with tears, and she felt the knowledge creeping into her mind that this might be the last time she’d be with Bronwyn.

“That’s it, love. Listen—I had to bargain with the Fae so that I could do two things at once: save a sweet little girl Urghat and keep the Winter Court from messing with you.”

“A bargain?” Olivia’s voice was small, her mind racing. This is what Somhairle had meant. He’d said he had to leave, that he couldn’t go through with the plans he’d made with Carlu. “But I . . .” She started to say that she’d beat him, that she’d killed Somhairle, and that Bronwyn hadn’t needed to make a bargain. She almost said it, but then she thought about Bronwyn, about how she’d made a sacrifice for her, and she didn’t want to tell her it hadn’t been necessary. She bit her tongue and said, “What did it cost you?”

“The Winter Court wants me off ‘the board’ for ten years. I’ll have to go somewhere else. The Summer Queen has an idea where—I’m not sure. But I’ll be back, Liv. I’m not saying you have to wait for me, but . . .”

“Of course, I will!”

“Liv, ten years is a long time. Let’s see what happens, all right? No expectations other than this: I promise I’ll keep loving you, no matter what. Will you promise me the same? That’s enough, isn’t it? We can see where we are in our lives when I get back.”

“I promise, Bron. I promise, but are you sure you have to go? What if you broke your bargain?”

“Come on, silly. You know better than that. What’re ten years, anyway? We’re going to live longer than the elves in Lord of the Rings. You want to start a feud with the Fae over ten years?” Bronwyn smiled and rubbed her calloused thumb under Olivia’s eye, brushing away the tears.

“Yeah. I guess that’s a valid point. Ten years, then.”

“Ten years. Promise me one more thing, Liv?”

“What?” Olivia asked, barely breathing the word, leaning her head close to Bronwyn’s, so their foreheads touched.

“Every time you kiss that girl, you think of me, all right?” Bronwyn giggled, watching Olivia’s eyes shoot wide open in surprise.

“You bitch!”