You and I

Shalia awoke some time during the night to moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains of the balcony and the windows. It took her a brief moment to remember where she was, the arm wrapped around her waist over the covers aiding greatly with the process. With one hand she rubbed sleep from her eye and the other delicately caressing Tamazzalt's hand resting on her stomach. His breathing was relaxed and he did not move a bit, deep in sleep. Probably hasn't slept this well in a while, she thought while gradually lacing her fingers with his, feeling over his knuckle with her thumb. The witch looked upon their hands with a smile. He was nuzzled close to the back of her neck, breathing right onto her skin. Their bare bodies pressed close in sleep felt overwhelmingly perfect.
Time stood still for them tonight. For once, it was not an enemy to race against. They were not diplomats arranging a final stand for Arcadia. Just people doing what people tend to do.

It was quiet. So serenely silent. Peace had entered the room where it otherwise would have been nonexistent elsewhere in the city. Funny, isn't it? We are leading preparations for an entire war…there's some irony there, she thought, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

She slowly moved his arm off and sat up. Her fingers traced over the folds of the silky sheets and she winced from the dull reminder of what all she drank hours before. If that was the cost of this, she would pay it threefold.
Her bright eyes glanced over a shoulder to look at the moon lighting his face. In a silvery glow--candles long blown out--Tamazzalt, too, looked beautiful. She twisted to face him better, to absorb the reality of this tender moment. So vulnerable and rested, something that never came about the man. Long dark hair falling into his face, obscuring the sharp nature of his features, the deeply tanned skin and shape of his torso uncovered by the blanket. His chest rose and fell steadily. Shalia brushed hair away from his face before placing a light kiss to his forehead, standing.

After relieving herself, she threw the robe back over her body loosely. There was the temptation to walk out onto the balcony with nothing at all, as she was no stranger to sitting on a snowy plateau exposed to the elements back home. Middle of the night where no eyes pried and only the call of the world around her played orchestra. A way to connect to the mountain beneath her and settle thoughts. She always admired the beauty of nakedness. However, she had no reason to try connecting to this place. She parted the curtains with a few quietly clinking beads and stepped into the night.

Shalia rested her elbows on the railing and looked out upon Gra'akast graced by the stars above. Her eyes closed as a light breeze picked up and she inhaled deeply.
Her thoughts were not a challenger right now. That was a relatively new feeling. Everything was looking up for where it mattered most. She opened them again to examine her hands, imagining them running through river water, wrapped in Tamazzalt’s locks, across the garden flowers. Telling all of their stories.
Tamazzalt and Shalia would wake with many testaments to the evening they shared. The light scratches down his back. The trail of bruised kisses left on their necks. The mess made of their hair in the pulling and moving. The muscles aching in her thighs like mild, lovely earthquakes. The feeling of fulfillment. Of companionship. Of being loved and cherished.

She was no fool to consider what happened as love, they were merely in the right place at the right time. She knew love and it was not this. It was very pleasant, though. He was a passionate man and she would have changed nothing.
The pair knew few personal details, but that failed to make a difference. Their bond was chalked mostly up to their diplomatic relations and now more intimate ones. When he woke later, Shalia would be sure to suggest that they have breakfast again in the garden, an opportunity to chat. Occupy time. All they had to do was wait anyway, might as well keep it beneficial to both parties. Perhaps learn about each other more. A few serious questions still remained but she was sure they’d come around eventually. She had gotten plenty of answers last night.

She had been worried about harming him unintentionally. As they indulged, the temperature dropped slightly and the spots where she lay haunted her outline with a cold and icy essence. Nothing terribly frigid, but it caused her some concern, some insecurity regardless. He could sense this, reassuring her that between the heated candles flickering their shadows across the room and the sweat beading on his forehead, that he was enraptured. Reveling in the experience.
And the heat from his skin felt twice as intense to her, like sunshine washing over her body. She hadn’t noticed that much before, having avoided contact often. Hot-blooded beings were increasingly warm to Shalia, a minor discomfort but rather harmless. Did not hold them back from enjoying the evening.

That aside, his reaction came as a shock. Had she finally done it? Found someone who took in all of her more isolating quirks as if it were nothing out of the ordinary? Of course it had to be with someone whose contact was temporary. Her luck.
Even Jiyn would ask from time to time if she needed a blanket because she was slightly chilled then. Always thought she must not be feeling well or that something was wrong. She would not think about him right now.

The woman found someone who did not tremble in her presence. Did not fear the cold of her skin or look at her like something ill or monsterous for it. This night Tamazzalt looked at her like a person first, and behind that came everything else. He did not hesitate upon meeting her body, in fact, he seemed even more enthused because of the peculiar feeling. He liked her touch, the power behind it and the strength she radiated. A mutual sentiment.
She admired his command of respect and the knowledge he held on top of what power he was said to have. Second only to the Prophetess. And she, second only to the War Chieftain.

But she would not let him cloud her mind or take over her thoughts too much going forward. That would be silly. Like a young girl with a crush and hearts in her eyes, pining over some boy. She appreciated what their sleeping together brought, though. Some peace, a moment to exist without paranoia, to live outside of her pressing duties. Just this once. She would never forget that escape.

It did remind her just how lonely all these years had been. Shalia could have had her pick of Aghul, the warrior men and slave women alike, even some Ozainae priests to keep her company, but in her position of power that felt incorrect. Immoral. The women had no say and were greatly abused enough, the men always too aggressive and likely fearful of the ice that came with her embrace. Many did lust over her greatly, but they would soon see her as just another thing to conquer and boast about. The priests saw her and her goddess as a demon and a pawn. Did Tamazzalt, too? Not that it mattered much in hindsight.

She and Tamazzalt had both wanted this. Where it went come the morning she was unsure. Once they left this room everything went back to how it was before. Two things were certain: Shalia hoped this could continue occasionally throughout the remainder of her stay, and that she really missed sex.

When she crawled back into bed, she fell asleep to the thought of his words, a faint smile present on her lips.

Just you and I.