"No! No, no, I don't think he'd... You know him," she began, but Bryn blinked.
"Not really. You tend to wander off alone together more often than not."
"Right, right, I should..." Myra blew out the air trapped in her cheeks and groaned, "Introduce you, though you were already introduced um. He's very..."
"Stuffy?"
"Proper. I dunno, like, a doffing hats if he wore a hat type. I think asking about that, ya know, the stuff, might liquify his brain."
Bryn twisted her head to the side, "You two are doing some things though, right? You don't just hold hands and call each other girlfriend and boyfriend like you're ten."
"Maker's sake, yes, we're doing things. Some stuff. Not that there's, I mean, uh..."
"Has he gone down--"
"No! No, it's all been fully clothed. And I'm suddenly worried that any of my dad's spies might be overhearing this conversation."
She whipped her head around the clearly empty spring, but kept expecting to catch a flash of chainmail as a messenger scurried back into the brush. Forget what her dad might say, her mom would flat out kill her. Reiss was willing to let her daughter out onto the dark streets at night, but if she wasn't tucked up in bed with a warm glass of milk after the hunt, it was the end times. All she had to talk about this stuff with was Bryn.
"Have you even...?" Bryn began, trying to get to the heart of the matter, but Myra was tired of saying no.
"We haven't done that. We haven't done anything but kiss. A lot of kissing, and with tongue, but that's it! No, he hasn't touched me like...here," Myra waved a hand over her flat chest and shuddered. "Or back here," she jabbed at her ass which was a bit rounder but nowhere near memorable. "And I haven't touched him either. Not that boys get as much area, come to think of it."
"Don't take this the wrong way, My," Bryn began, causing Myra's hackles to raise, "but are you sure he's into girls."
"Yes, he's shown no signs and believe me, the squires are like a big ol' breeding pool for that. It's a wonder everyone doesn't come out into both by the end. I just...forget it. Okay. It's stupid and I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm here for you. Because of the dumb thing I did and said. And not me. I'm not important."
Bryn tapped her foot and sighed, because Myra was right. There was no point in talking about her stalled love life because it didn't matter. If she did, she did, eventually. Maybe it was enough that she could make out with a hot boy who made her toes curl and that'd fetch her a glass of water from a well nearly a mile away if she was thirsty. Not that she ever made him, just seemed like a Gavin thing to do.
Shit, he'd probably put a cucumber slice in it too.
"Maybe," Bryn began, "if he's as shy and uncertain as you said, you need to guide him a bit."
"What?"
"He might be worried about pushing you, and is waiting for you to give the go ahead."
She hadn't thought about that. It made sense really. Gavin wasn't exactly in the running for cad of the year -- Cal probably had that one locked up. Was he as scared of asking her as she was him? "What do I do?"
"That's easy," Bryn laughed, "take his hands, when you're kissing hot and heavy, and place them where you want him to touch."
That sounded too simple. Way too simple. There had to be a catch, or a trick, or she needed to be a different body shape or something. "I don't know..."
"It works, I swear!" Bryn laughed, causing Myra to shudder. "Not with Cailan, he rather enjoyed hearing me ask for what I wanted.
"La la la," Myra jammed her fingers in her ears, "I am not listening nor thinking about this. Elephants in the room. Thinking about them instead!"
Bryn yanked on Myra's hand and glared, "You done? Cause it'll work. Might have to get him to go a bit gentle. Boys seem to think these things are make out of brass for how hard they sucker on."
Giggling at her friend's assessment, Myra couldn't hide the excitement of trying any of that. In the moment with Gavin, when her body was red hot and begging for more, she'd wanted it so badly. But once they stepped back and cuddled, it seemed silly and maybe kinda weird.
Because keeping the species alive is weird.
Kinda. Who thinks shoving body parts into other body parts is normal? Not like jamming a spleen into an eyeball is anything fun.
Nodding her head, Myra admitted, "Okay. I'll try it. Sometime. When I think it's smart."
"That's my girl," Bryn cooed, curling a hand around her in a half hug.
Myra smiled at it before groaning at herself and her stupid reaction. "I'm sorry, I really really am. If you want I could, I bet I could talk Cailan into taking you back. Actually, he'd probably be all for it. It's Rosie who'd need the convincing and..."
"No," Bryn shook her head, her hair slipping into place. "It's better if we aren't seen together anymore. And I always knew it wouldn't last. Best to leave it here than try and stretch it out."
"You can still hit me if you want."
Bryn snickered, "I might take you up on that later. Seeing as how someone never bothers to change out her socks."
"What?"
"Wearing every pair you own at once?"
"Keeps my feet well cushioned."
"And sweaty as balls," Bryn gasped, waving a hand over her nose.
Myra began to laugh, before she realized her friend actually knew what balls smelled like. Probably looked like too. Was that a thing? Looking at them? Shaking it away fast, Myra threw back on a smile. She locked her arm around Bryn's shoulders while her friend did the same.
"Wanna sneak onto one of the wagons before we take off that way we don't have to walk to the Dalish?"
"My..."
"Oh, right," she winced, "if that'll keep you from your duties, you don't have to do it with me. I was only--"
"I mean we need to steal some provisions first. It gets hot hiding under that tarp and we'll need at least two water skins."
Her smile turned brighter, Myra wrapping both arms around her friend in a tight hug. They could both pretend right now that everything was back to normal, but she wasn't stupid. The words would linger, the looks might turn colder, but in time it'd fade away as much as when Myra swore she could cut Bryn's hair just as good as any barber.
That one only took two years and her sending an "I'm sorry" card every week. So, maybe four this time and a fresh card every day.
"My...?" Bryn asked, both of them hobbling together as if they were in a three legged race.
"Yeah?"
"Are you going to tell your mom about me and Cailan?"
Myra twisted over to her and snorted, "To the void with that! What my mom doesn't know won't kill her."
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Innocene Lost
A whippoorwill planted its thin feet right upon the fence Gavin had been staring at. He smiled towards the tiny bird, its beak twisting with the wind while it glanced an eye around at the village. A silly part of him wanted to reach a finger out and hope the bird would land upon it, but in lifting his hand the creature took to the sky.
"Are you hiding back here?" a voice whispered from beside him.
Rather than flinch, he slipped his hand around the back of her waist and tugged Myra to him. She laughed at the move, but easily gave in. Possibly even assisted for how effortlessly she flew above the ground. Curling against his chest, she planted a quick kiss to his lips, her green eyes brighter than the fields of the Dales. He'd only heard stories of the Emerald Graves in Orlais, but he'd bet anything Myra's eyes were greener.
"I've been watching," Gavin said to her. He should probably release her, but it'd been quite a few days since they'd had a chance to be alone. Would it be so wrong for him to risk another kiss? Maybe two?
Myra, unaware of his thoughts, was staring into the forest beyond where the bird fluttered back to. "Watching what?"
"The trees."
She turned to him, her eyebrows rising, "The trees? Ya gonna file down your ears next and join in with them?"
"No," he laughed, shaking his h
ead at the idea, "but if you're quiet you can hear the wildlife scampering around. There's little to no breeze, so any twisting of branches is..."
"A bird."
"Have to be a big bird. Probably a squirrel or the like, but it's far more exciting than listening to the elves discussing...what were they telling your sister about?"
Myra waved a hand through the air, "Some old dead guy who did some old thing years and years ago that's so ancient no one even knows if it's true. Typical Dalish story the way I hear it."
Burying his nose against her cheek, Gavin took in a breath and smiled. She smelled of liquid amber and plums, "What have you been up to?"
"Oh, ya know, things. Lots of things."
"Will anyone be injured?" he murmured, his lips brushing beside her skin.
"Nope."
Wrapping both arms around her, Gavin turned so he fully enveloped her side. Myra's hip pressed into his lower stomach, but it helped to settle the butterflies picking around in there. Sighing in the back of his throat, he muttered, "Good. Then it's probably your sister's problem and not mine."
"How many problems do I give you?" Myra chuckled. She kept tracing her tiny fingers up and down his arm, her cheek bulging with a smile.
"Enough," Gavin whispered.
She laughed, "Enough to be annoying, or enough to be...?"
Cupping her cheek, he pulled Myra to his lips. She tasted even sweeter than whatever she was getting up to with resin and fruit. Spicy too. Though there was always a touch of surprise with Myra. No matter how many times he kissed her it was always different and new.
As he leaned back, Gavin's eyes opened to focus on her, "Just enough."
"You are so..." her fingers drew across his eyebrows, seeming to knock the shape back and forth to her whims, "different. Really different, from everyone else I've ever met. And I've met a lot of people. Not very many good ones, mind you."
That caused him to snicker, Myra often regaling him with tales of her mother's cases and how often she wound up assisting. The way she told it, it seemed as if Myra was so invaluable it was a wonder Reiss was getting on at all without her. Gavin wondered sometimes about his parents in the abbey. There was a lot to do and harvest would be upon them sooner than he dared to think.
No. That isn't your place anymore. His father would handle it, as he did all matters.
"You've gone all stoic quiet. Something wrong?" her thin bottom lip puffed out, Myra fiddling with his ear like a knob.
"Nothing wrong, just...thinking."
"Oh," she sighed, turning in his arms so her back was pressed against him. Locking his hands tight around her stomach, Myra smiled, "Well that's nothing new. When aren't you thinking?"
Bending down, he placed his lips right to her ear and whispered, "When I'm kissing you." She trembled in his arms, Gavin's smile rising and the heat in his veins coursing at the reaction. "Though, otherwise, you're correct. It doesn't shut off easily."
Her head tipped back, Myra's blonde hair fanning out as she pressed herself tight to his chest, "I like that about you."
"Really?" he let his fingers skirt up and down her exposed forearms, her skin warm as fluffy pancakes.
Myra's mischievous eyes flared open and she smiled, "Yes really." She moved fast, easily slipping around to grab onto his cheeks and kiss him, when a loud cough broke from behind.
Both of their eyes darted to find a crotchety old elf glaring at them. He didn't say anything, just folded his arms and continued to glower. Gavin's cheeks were turning bright pink from the sneer, while Myra smiled and waved. "Sorry, this must be some sacred back of the fence post to your people. Didn't mean to slobber all over it with young affection."
"Myra," he tried to whisper, feeling even more of the old man's anger pouring free. What if they got the entire caravan kicked out of the New Dales?
She gripped onto his hand and giggled, "We'll be leaving now."
"Uh..." before Gavin could get his feet under him, she pulled him away from the compound. It was hard to call it a city. Though there were a few buildings, most of the structures were without walls. People passed to and fro as they wished, allowing a person to easily look from one end of the place to the other without anything in the way. A lot of the elves seemed to live outside, cooking fires, pottery wheels, tanneries, and story tellers were all plying their crafts on the steps of the houses instead of inside them.
More than a few heads craned away from their work at the two humans dashing away from their home. "Sorry," Gavin tried to wave, feeling some of the kids who'd been playing with a stick pause and watch warily. "Just, excuse us."
Giggling, Myra tugged him away from the whole mess of elves and towards their caravan. They weren't allowed to camp inside the New Dales, but close enough on their doorstep the walk wasn't long. A few people passed between the tents, but for the most part everyone was out either washing in the streams or sitting with the princess and the leaders around the fire. It was some big tradition that was important enough neither Gavin nor Myra needed to be there.
His leader didn't stop until she yanked up a tent flap and dashed inside with Gavin hot on her heels. Myra was in such a state, she flopped to the ground and began to laugh a bit while he found his breath. Maker, she was fast when she wanted to be.
Turning to secure the door, by the time he looked back a pair of hands cupped his cheeks. Myra's warm lips pressed into his, the girl practically knocking him over. He had to pinwheel his arms to keep from teetering down and taking the tent with.
"Whoa," Gavin called, looking up to try and make certain he didn't collapse a pole on accident.
"Problems?" the girl coyly tugged on her braid and began to undo the tie at the end.
"N...no," his brain switched off, his fingers aching to run through her golden waves. "Just need to get my bearings."
"Oh?" her sparkling greens danced with his as she gave up on the braid halfway and leapt onto him. This time Gavin tumbled to the ground, his bedroll mercifully catching him. Myra folded right into his embrace, her lips dancing up and down his jawline before she returned to his mouth.
Scooting onto his ass, Gavin tried to wrap his fingers around her hair and finish undoing the plait, but she was voracious. Myra kept pressing closer to him until Gavin gave up and flopped down onto his back. The loss was enough to cause Myra to pause above him, her knees straddling over his stomach as she stared down.
"You're beautiful," Gavin whispered, his fingers darting up her shoulder to dance through her freckles. There were so many the steps would never end.
Myra scoffed, "I thought you didn't call people like me beautiful. Something about not touching..."
"I was wrong," he breathed, his other hand beginning at the top of her head. It burrowed into her hair, each strand curling around his fingers, as he pulled it downward. Maker's glory, he moaned, her hair was like combing a river. It washed through him, the golden strands glittering by the light leeching off the tent walls.
Bending over, Myra kissed him, her tongue happily plying his lips apart. He loved when she did that, tasting her warm breath and wet tongue as it lapped with his. She moaned in the back of her throat, spreading her hands on the ground beside his head as Myra began to slip her hips lower.
His eyes flared open and Gavin grabbed onto her waist. Keeping her pinned upon his stomach where she was safe, he let the panic sift from his brain while he returned to kissing her. As she stretched with the reach, the end of her tunic lifted higher and higher, until his fingers glanced across a sliver of her stomach's skin. Blessed Andraste, it was even warmer than her cheeks.
No.
With careful movements, Gavin let go in order to smooth back down her tunic and cover herself, when Myra suddenly grabbed onto his hand. He expected her to push it down to the ground so they could entwine fingers while she kept herself propped up. But that wasn't her plan. While her lips plied him apart, Myra slowly raised his hand up her stomach.
He felt the edge of her ribs flash by, each one knoc
king against his knuckles before she curled her hand around the back of his and...
Merciful Maker. When she let go, he found his hand wrapped around one of her breasts. A nub of a nipple prodded into his palm even through her tunic and whatever else girls wore below. As Myra wiggled above him, the nub grew longer, enticing him to caress his hand over it. He should stop. He was already pushing himself too far.
But it's Myra. This isn't too bad.
No, this is wonderful.
Curling his hand back and forth over her small breast, Gavin was lost in the narrow bounce to her firm flesh while Myra... She tossed her head back, her eyes shut so tight and a look of bliss washing across her face. He adored it, wanted more.
Reaching up fast, he grabbed onto her other breast and began to massage both. At first so gently it was as if he was nothing more than a soft breeze, but as Myra began to react and roll her hips around, Gavin increased the pressure. She responded in kind, her lips cupping against his for kisses that were suddenly interrupted by a gasp of pleasure.
Maker's breath, this was perfect.
Lapping his tongue over her bottom lip, Gavin tried to pull it into his mouth, when Myra suddenly leaned back. His hands slid off her chest, sadly pooling upon his stomach while he watched her. She was slyly sliding back and forth as if doing a secret dance when she unexpectedly gripped onto the bottom of her shirt.
Before he could speak, she tugged it off over her head and moved to toss it to the side. Gavin screwed his eyes up tight and froze.
"Stop," he whimpered, his failsafes already mentally whipping him for letting it get this far.
"What...?" the confusion was evident, but it was the hurt in her voice that made him quiver worse. "Why?"
"Please," Gavin scampered up, trying to slide out from under her. Myra tumbled back and away, her head dropping down as she stared at her naked chest. He reached out for her shirt and passed it back, the fabric practically hitting the ground before Myra touched it. "Put it on, please."
He was reduced to begging, trying to calm the buzzing in his mind and body while his gut burned in shame. You let it get this far. You led her on.
My Love Page 332