Songs to Move Stone Ch. 03-04

"Burn me, she's cute," Olivia murmured, jealously eyeing the purring Nivarien in her lap.

"Oh, very," Niamh crooned in response.

She was grateful that the girl was maintaining her composure, at least to an extent. Her increasingly lascivious mewling was drawing some attention. Elara quickly busied herself cleaning, pretending not to notice the lewd spectacle just a couple paces away. Olivia, on the other hand, only became more transfixed.

"Is she yours?"

"I believe Leila is her chaperone."

Olivia pursed her lips impatiently. "You know that's not what I meant."

The woman reached out and briefly pinched the tip of Harper's ear coaxing out a sharp squeak that dipped into a soft whine. What Niamh wouldn't give to drag this girl back to her quarters...

"What if I said she was?" She shot back, surprising even herself.

Olivia balked at her defensive tone. She was hardly the type to get possessive, but something about Harper brought out that side of her. Those damned eyes looked just like Asilinn.

"Apologies... It has been a lengthy afternoon. I had a small altercation in town earlier and I'm afraid it left me soured. Please do mind her ears though, they are quite delicate."

"I know, I had a Nivarien plaything some time back," Olivia mentioned, leaning back as her face split into a smug grin. Hardly a heartbeat passed before she leapt into her next thought. "Kaelin said he saw you tackle some lady?"

Olivia was woefully practiced at irking her. Niamh blushed in spite of herself. "Archie made another pass at me so I froze his whole storming furnace."

Olivia let out a low whistle and Elara couldn't help but giggle.

"The blacksmith's boy? Doesn't he know-?" Elara began.

"Yes," punctuated Niamh. The brat had gotten bold ever since inheriting his master's forge. Niamhara decided to teach him a lesson, resulting in the young man furiously chasing her through town while brandishing a hammer. A slight detour up onto the scaffolding of some nearby roofs and a misplaced foothold lead to her happenstance encounter with Harper who provided a convenient source of cover.

"He keeps telling me he can change my mind and fix me."

Her companions wrinkled their noses in disgust. "Foul."

"I don't know what either of you see in men," Niamh sighed, allowing her hands to roam affectionately over Harper's body. Even the slightest brush of a finger sent her squirming and shivering.

"They have their moments," Elara chirped objectionably.

"I don't exactly see how that leads to you tackling some poor woman."

"That was actually Harper," Niamh admitted with an abashed pout, "Master Warstone was showing her the town and I may have collided with her in my escape."

"Mmhh," Olivia murmured with a deep appreciative groan. "Warstone, now there's a man I would kill for a night with. That man's frown could split a tree, or my clothes right off, not to mention the log in his trous-"

"You are incorrigible! Poor Miss Harper will think the worst of us," Elara interrupted, blooming red.

"Doesn't look like she's doing much thinking."

Olivia was right. The girl was pleasantly placated in Niamh's lap, loosely allowing herself to be maneuvered like modeling clay in her grip. Harper was boldly nestled into her bosom, purring delightedly with her mind leagues away.

By the time the other two women took their leave Harper had fallen into a deep sleep. The poor thing was probably exhausted. She couldn't imagine what could have driven her to come here, nor how she planned on maintaining her false guise. Niamh masked a deeply resonating pang of sorrow as she stared at the girl, considering what ill fates likely awaited her.