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Standing outside of Rook’s room, Neve takes a deep breath and knocks three times on the heavy doors.
Silence follows and Neve wonders if she’s fallen asleep. She considers getting more coffee and trying again when the door creaks open.
Standing before her - dressed down in an oversized tunic and her leather pants - is Rook.
“You know you don’t have to knock, right?” Rook laughs softly, tilting her head to the side.
“Force of habit,” Neve shrugs, stepping forward. Her hand falls to the crook of Rook’s shoulder, a thumb tracing the underside of her jaw. “But I also wanted to give you space if you needed it.”
“And if I don’t want space?” Rook asks.
“Then I’m here,” Neve replies easily.
Rook pulls on the door until there’s enough space for Neve to enter. Neve steps inside immediately; she doesn’t need to be asked twice.
As Rook closes the door behind her, Neve takes in the scene before her. The small bookcase at the end of Rook’s bed is covered in texts and maps, spread out as though she’d been reviewing them before Neve arrived. Balanced precariously on the corner, however, was a single glass. Based on the contents, Neve could tell Rook had been nursing it for a while.
“Antivan brandy?” she asks, turning her head as Rook approaches.
“Mm,” she nods. “A gift from Teia before the dragon attack.”
“Not to mother you,” Neve begins slowly, arching an eyebrow, “but how many have you had?”
“Worried I’m drowning my feelings?”
“Rook.”
“Only one, Neve,” Rook laughs. “Well, almost one. It’s too rich for my tastes.”
“Then why drink it at all?”
Rook’s face falters and Neve knows immediately that she’s hiding.
“We’ve been busy, Neve,” Rook begins slowly. “But you’ve been distant.”
“And that’s why you’re drinking?”
“No,” Rook shakes her head. “I’m just hoping it will help me relax enough to get some sleep.”
“Then why bring up the distance?”
“Because I was hoping you’d eventually tell me yourself,” Rook shrugs. “But here we are.”
Neve’s jaw twitches. Her legs feel heavy and she begins moving, walking until she’s face-to-face with the sketches of wing anatomy on Rook’s wall. Staring up at them, she sighs.
“How long have you known?”
“Since Arlathan,” Rook replies simply. Neve listens as she leans against the stout bookcase behind her. “I’d have asked you sooner but…”
Neve turns slightly, observing Rook over her shoulder. Her mind startles at the look of uncertainty on Rook’s face. Rook never looks uncertain.
“But?”
“Neve,” she laughs softly, running a hand through her mullet. “It feels like I’m one wrong move away from you disappearing.”
It was Neve’s turn to laugh. “And what about you? You threw yourself at the Venatori, your spirit is fraying , we still have literal gods to contend with…” she tapers off as she turns to face Rook fully, crossing her arms. “I thought I was going to lose both you and Bellara the other day. I’m not trying to ice you out, Rook; I’m trying to prevent the same pattern from repeating again.”
A tense silence follows; Rook stares at her, and Neve, overwhelmed with sorrow and anger, looks everywhere but.
“Fraying?”
Neve huffs, rolling her eyes. “Really?”
Undeterred, Rook continues. “This is about Bellara, isn’t it?”
“It’s about both of you,” Neve corrects. “You’re not immune to the risks, Rook. You can’t tell me this isn’t taking a toll on you. Cyrian, Shathann…”
Rook winces at their names, reminding Neve of why she came here in the first place.
“I know I’m risk averse when it comes to others but I am trying,” Neve says quietly, closing her eyes as she swallows the lump in her throat. “It’s just…it’s not easy when the ways I could lose you keep piling up.”
Neve takes a tentative step forward, eyes fixed on Rook’s.
“But I didn’t come here to admonish you,” she continues.
Rook seems to shrink as her mask crumbles. Shoulders slumping, her eyes finally convey the weariness Neve had sensed all along.
“Oh?” Rook asks, voice rough.
“I…” Neve sighs, shaking her head. “I’m not good at this. It’s easier with people like Bel or Rana; there’s no vulnerability to negotiate. I can pick and choose when I let them in. But with you…with…” She trails off awkwardly, unsure of their label. Partners?
Lovers?
Rook gives nothing away, still staring at her through tired eyes.
“I want to be a comfort to you,” Neve says finally. “Like you’ve been to me.”
As the room grows silent once more, Neve feels lost. Rook’s face tells her nothing except for the exhaustion etched in her bones. She bites her lip, prepared to offer Rook an out when warm hands grip her waist and push. She barely registers the cold stone against her back as Rook’s mouth finds hers; hot and eager.
Her body responds instantly as Rook pulls them flush, their chests pressed together deliciously. Rook’s hands tighten, pulling at the fabric of her shirt until it comes loose, giving her access to the skin beneath. As they slip under the hem, Neve gasps; the touch is searing. Heat pools rapidly in her belly as Rook’s hands surge upwards, cupping her breasts.
“Rook,” she moans as the kiss breaks. Instead of responding verbally, Rook begins trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Unthinkingly, Neve turns her head to grant her more access even as her remaining sanity urges her to remember why she came.
“Rook,” she says again, hands coming up to grasp her face. She pulls until Rook stops, eyes dark with feral need meeting her own.
“You’re hurting,” Neve says between breaths. “We shouldn’t bury it.”
Rook’s chest heaves as she studies her.
“I’m not,” she replies, letting Neve guide her until their foreheads rest together. “I just…”
She pauses, jaw working anxiously.
“You just…?” Neve asks, thumb rubbing gentle circles on Rook’s cheek.
“I missed you,” she sighs. Neve shivers; how long has it been since someone missed her? Lifting her hands, Rook grips Neve’s wrists as she continues to cradle her face. “Can we maybe continue? I promise to talk about it after.”
Neve swallows and nods, unsure of her ability to speak. Leaning in, Rook presses a gentle kiss to Neve’s swollen lips. Pulling back, she whispers, “I have something. From Antiva.”
“From…Antiva?” Neve asks.
Rook nods, a small smile gracing her lips. She pulls on Neve’s wrists until her hands drop. Lacing their fingers together, she guides Neve to the armoire. Once there, she releases Neve’s hand and opens it, searching briefly before grabbing a small wooden box. Turning, she holds it out for Neve to take.
Neve stares at her a moment before tentatively accepting the box, thumb brushing over the tiny latch keeping the lid in place. She holds Rook’s gaze as she flips it and slowly lifts the lid. Eyes flicking downward, she blinks as her heart stutters.
A leather strap - complete with a harness - was inside.
“There’s no pressure,” Rook murmurs, bringing a hand to caress Neve’s arm. “Say the word and I’ll put it away - for good, if you want.”
Neve is certain she can hear her own blood pumping through her veins as images flash across her mind. Her mouth goes dry and she swallows, hoping to avoid her voice cracking.
“I…” she begins, clearing her throat when her voice betrays her. “Yes.”
Rook blinks. “Yes…?”
“Yes,” Neve repeats, nodding quickly. “I’d like to try it.”
Rook smiles warmly as Neve lets the lid fall before it’s gingerly lifted from her hands.
“Wait for me on the bed,” Rook says softly. “I’ll be right there.”
Neve can only nod. She walks quickly to the bed and sits on the edge, moving quickly to remove her prosthetic. Once detached, she begins working on the buttons of her shirt. Her body is vibrating with anticipation, but she manages to slip the garment off before unbuttoning on her pants. As she works, she steals glances to the side, watching as Rook disrobes and begins pulling the leather straps around muscular thighs.
Heart hammering in her chest, Neve leans into the pillows and watches as Rook retrieves something else from the armoire: a small cloth. Draping it over her shoulder, she grabs a small basin from the adjacent table. Finally, she moves towards the bookcase at the foot of the bed, pushing the maps aside until she can set the basin down. Laying the cloth beside it, she locks eyes with Neve before rounding the bookcase and stopping at Neve’s side.
She doesn’t sit, however. Instead, Neve watches - eyelids heavy with desire - as Rook kneels onto the stone floor. Her hands reach out, softly mapping the curves of Neve’s thighs before gripping her waist and pulling. Neve yelps.
“Trouble,” she breathes. “What are you up to?”
Rook doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she makes it a point to slowly turn Neve until her legs hang off the bed before lifting them over her shoulders.
“You may find this hard to believe,” Rook begins, each word punctuated with a soft kiss to her inner thighs. Neve bucks her hips when a ghost of a breath caresses her center. “But caring for you brings me so much joy.”
With that, Rook pulls Neve’s body towards her and buries her face in Neve’s folds.
Neve’s thoughts scatter and she throws her head back as a moan is ripped from her throat. While intimacy is still relatively new for them, Neve is quickly reminded of how easily Rook learned her body. She remembers the way Rook watched and listened, carefully searching for the right cues until she found the combination to push Neve over the edge.
Her tongue traces light circles around Neve’s clit, causing her to buck once more as her hands seek purchase in blonde curls.
“I thought,” she whimpers through labored breaths, “I thought you were going to use - ah - the strap.”
There’s a hum against her core that sends shivers down her spine.
“In a moment,” Rook murmurs against tender flesh. “I want to make sure you’re ready.”
Neve laughs delightedly; Rook knows she’s ready. Neve doesn’t need to look down to know her arousal has coated Rook’s chin and is likely dripping to the cold stones below. Despite that, Rook devours her; it’s hard to not feel wanted with the desperate way Rook inhales her cunt.
Tension builds deep in her belly and she worries that she’ll tip over the edge before they’ve even tried the toy. Her concerns are laid to rest, however, when Rook languidly strokes through her folds one last time and places a single kiss to her core. Neve whines as she pulls back, her body tense with need.
Rook moves quickly to kneel on the bed. With ease, she pushes Neve further into the middle so that her legs are no longer dangling off the edge. Unthinkingly, Neve parts her thighs, a silent invitation for Rook to press between them.
The invitation is accepted.
Slowly, Rook lowers herself on top of Neve until the tip of the toy teases her clit. Throwing her head back, Neve bites her lip to muffle the moan that escapes.
“Hey,” Rook murmurs softly, placing chaste kisses to her chest.
Blinking back the fog of lust, Neve tilts her head forward.
“Hey?”
“Are you sure?” Rook asks, her lips brushing against a taught nipple.
Is she sure? Neve can’t remember the last time a partner paused to check on her; to ensure she was comfortable with the way things were escalating. It makes her heart flutter wildly in her chest.
“Oh, Trouble,” she breathes. “Yes. Please.”
Rook responds by sucking a nipple into her mouth, causing Neve’s head to fall back once more. Her hips begin to move gingerly, the tip of the toy dragging softly against the bundle of nerves.
“Rook,” she breathes.
Taking the hint, Rook angles the strap until it’s pressed against her entrance. And then, with gentle movements, she eases inside.
Neve’s moan is filthy.
When their hips meet, Rook pauses, lifting her head to search Neve’s eyes. Neve doesn’t look up; instead, she drags her nails down Rook’s back and bucks her hips. It’s confirmation enough.
Rook begins a tortuous pace; she eases out until only the tip remains before pushing back in agonizingly slow. With each stroke, her tempo increases marginally. It drives Neve insane.
“Trouble,” she mutters between gasps. “I’m not fragile…you can go… kaffas…you can go faster.”
Rook shifts her weight onto one elbow and reaches forward to grasp Neve’s face with her other hand. She tilts her head until their eyes meet.
“I know you’re not fragile,” she says, voice firm.
With that, she eases Neve’s head back onto the bed, pulls her hand back and settles back onto both elbows. Without prompting, she pulls out and slams back in, the sound of skin slapping against skin bouncing sharply off the stone walls.
Neve yelps as her hands grapple for purchase on Rook’s. The pace is fierce and unrelenting. Each withdrawal is repaid with a forceful thrust, pulling a guttural moan from Neve’s lips. It blocks out the outside world, leaving her with little else beyond lust and need.
The need to let go, to be ravished. The need to be wanted the way Rook wants her.
And the need to be so much closer.
Even with Rook burying herself inside over and over, Neve finds it’s not enough. Never enough. She curls her legs around Rook’s waist and pulls her closer, forcing Rook to drive shorter thrusts as she growls into her skin.
Rook cranes her head to capture a nipple in her mouth once more, causing Neve’s nails to dig into her back once more.
“Trouble,” she heaves, vision narrowing as her release approaches. “I need…I…”
Words fail her as Rook’s tongue curls painfully slow around her nipple.
“More?” she murmurs into the sensitive skin of her breast.
“Yes,” she breathes.
Rook moves forward slowly, trailing kisses up Neve’s chest and neck until she pulls her into a filthy open-mouthed kiss. Her tongue caresses Neve’s, the tenderness a stark contrast to the tireless pace of her hips. Pulling back slowly, she waits until Neve opens bleary eyes before whispering: “Can you touch yourself for me?”
Neve’s back arches at the question, her hand moving downward on its own. She pushes between skin wet with sweat to find her clit and rubs a swift circle.
The effect is immediate. Her release slams into her like waves against a seawall, ripping the air from her lungs. Her fingers dig deeper into Rook’s back and her head lurches forward, teeth finding purchase on her shoulder.
Rook’s pace stutters at this, her body tensing as she muffles her own moans in Neve’s neck. She manages to continue thrusting despite her own apparent climax until Neve tightens her legs in a silent plea to stop. Rook understands immediately, her body collapsing on top of Neve’s.
The world comes back slowly, Neve’s hands slowly releasing Rook’s back and her legs relaxing until they fall limp onto the bed. She presses a soft kiss to the bruise blooming on Rook’s shoulder.
“I think,” she begins slowly, testing her voice. “I think I may need to heal your back.”
There’s a muffled giggle and Neve feels the way it rumbles through her chest. It causes hers to swell, pure love and adoration washing over nerves raw from lust.
“Maybe in a bit,” Rook whispers, lifting her head. “I’m going to move now, okay?”
Neve nods, groaning as Rook pulls out. She pries an eye open when Rook’s weight disappears, as well.
“Rook?”
“One moment,” Rook says quickly, moving away from the bed. Neve lets her eyes slide closed once more, silently admonishing herself for feeling disappointed at the sudden loss of intimacy. She hears the sounds of buckles releasing, followed by the sound of water trickling. Was the bowl always filled with water?
A moment later, the bed dips as Rook settles beside her. Neve opens her eyes once more to find Rook lying on her side, steam rising from the wet cloth in her hand.
“May I?” Rook asks, face open with unadulterated tenderness.
Neve feels her heart rise in her throat, blocking all words. She settles for a nod.
Rook gently nudges Neve’s legs open once more, gently tracing the cloth across her thighs and washing away what Neve assumes is the residue from their combined arousal. The thought sends a jolt between her legs once more; she’s not sure she’ll be able to sleep in her own cot after this.
Rook eventually pulls away, dropping the cloth in the basin before returning to Neve’s side and curling around her.
Neve swallows painfully, pushing past the lump in her throat and steering her thoughts away from the three words threatening to burst forth. She needed a distraction.
“So,” she begins slowly. “Is it…?”
“Enchanted?” Rook supplies.
“Mm,” Neve hums.
“No,” Rook chuckles. “The other end applies pressure to the wearer. It’s not perfect but…well, it did the trick.”
Neve smiles ruefully, hands drawing nonsensical patterns into Rook’s back. She really needed to find the energy to heal the scratches she undoubtedly inflicted.
“There’s a shop,” she begins slowly. “In Minrathous.”
“Oh, I’m sure there is,” Rook laughs softly, shifting until she’s resting on her elbow.
“We could go,” Neve offers, feeling suddenly shy under Rook’s gaze.
“We could,” Rook hums, a soft smile on her face. “Maybe get that fish dinner while we’re at it?”
Lifting a hand, Never traces her thumb along the patterns in Rook’s braid.
“I’d really like that.”