The Threadbinders Ch. 03

Chapter 3

To say the dwarven mage was astonished was something of an understatement, but he knew as soon as he laid eyes upon her that one of Sophia's threads would lead to him and Yasha. Humans had their appeal to some, but he'd never found them especially eye catching as a species, and yet, there was something about Sophia that he couldn't look away from. He felt as smitten as he had the day Yasha had marched into his life.

Her skin was darker than his wife's but not quite as dark as his own, and the spins and twirls she was doing while keeping three blades suspended in the air reflected an innate agility that Arkady certainly imagined came in quite handy. Her exposed toned belly also revealed a piercing through her navel that had a small gem attached to it, a deep lustrous ruby that helped the highlights in her black silky mane stand out even more.

The knives danced up and downwards, their flat metal sides catching the light to cast interesting shadows along the inside of the area. They were no cheap weapons either, as Arkady could recognize the handiwork of his people even at a good distance. A single one of those knives would fetch a month's worth of rations to an experienced blademaster, although he suspected they were commissioned as a set long ago, as each of the three looked like similar handiwork. They weren't steel, but adamantine, a denser metal alloy that only the better dwarven artisans knew how to work with. Usually weapons and armor of adamantine make were generally reserved for their own people, but the grips of the blades laid bare the fact that the weapons had been crafted for human hands, not dwarven. Arkady realized the weapons must have had quite the story behind them, but resolved not to let it be the first thing he asked about, because they had greater things to be concerned by.

Sophia paid no attention to the three mages as they slowly approached her, instead remaining extremely focused on the blades she kept suspended above her, each of them rising and falling like leaping frogs, the woman taking the time to whip them under her arm or leg every now and again, as if she was making sure some routine she knew stayed crisp in her mind.

The three of them didn't want to startle her, so they moved quietly and carefully, even reducing their speed so that hopefully they would catch Sophia at some point when she had finished her performance to an audience of none. The knives sliced through the air and eventually she grabbed them one at a time by their hilt, flipping them over and stabbing them into a large melon she had resting at her feet, the sort of thing she seemingly did often enough.

"Well done, Sophia," Weesha said. "Your skill with those is quite remarkable."

"Thanks, Weesha, but at this point, it's more a family skill than anything else, even if I am the only one left of my family," she said, not looking back at them yet. She was withdrawing each of the blades one at a time from the melon, wiping them off with a strap of cloth she wore around her waist as a belt of sorts, cleaning them before sheathing them in scabbards hanging from that same strap. The woman's voice had a confident way about it, someone who had been self-sufficient for some time, by needs more than choice. It was husky, reminding the dwarf of the smooth ales he'd enjoyed far too much of during his youth. "I haven't gotten to the stables yet, but I can have a looksee first thing in the morning, unless you need it done sooner."

"Actually, I have a couple of people I want you to meet," the gnomish mage said, as the woman's head turned to look at them.

As soon as Sophia laid eyes on them, she rushed over and grabbed Yasha, pulling her head down so that the human could lock lips with her, having had to leap up a little bit, forcing the taller elf to bend downward. Arkady grinned a little bit, seeing his wife slide her hand down Sophia's back, clearly enjoying the contact before eventually pulling back, as Sophia kept her eyes tilted up adoringly. "You came! I thought you might, but... in my dreams, you weren't alone? You were--"

Arkady cleared his throat, as if to draw attention to his form and suddenly Sophia's head whipped over to spot him, her smile spreading even further as she rushed at him so quickly, he didn't have time to react, as she slid down onto her knees in front of him so that he was, momentarily, taller than she was, as she reached up in a similar manner, pulling him down into a kiss that was positively exuberant. The dwarf was stunned by the experience, as it was uncannily like kissing his own wife, the perfect level of aggression and emotion, as if Sophia knew she needed to be the more active hand with the more typically reticent dwarf, and wanted to put him as much at ease as she could, sliding one hand across his hip, the other reaching up to stroke his beard in a remarkably insightful fashion. This was clearly a woman who had spent her fair share of time among dwarves, he thought.

"I've never kissed a dwarf before," she whispered to him, having broken her kiss only by fractional space, her breath warm on his lips, the scent of a fire brandy lingering there. "You're the couple I've dreamt of," she purred to him. "Oh, the things I'm going to do to you, lover. I will make that head of yours spin." Yasha and Weesha moved over to close the distance, so all of them stood in close proximity of one another. Sophia grinned and hopped up off her knees. "Pardon the forwardness, Master Threadbinder, but somehow I knew you preferred the more forward type of lady. Was I correct in that notion?"

"Now I--" Arkady started before his wife jumped in.

"Very much so, Sophia," Yasha said with a wry smile. "You said you'd seen us in dreams?"

The human woman nodded. "For the past three seasons or so, I've been having dreams about once a week, featuring one of four sets of people. The two of you are clearly one of those sets. The highly refined elvish princess and her burly dwarven husband. I'm not sure how I know, but I think I love the two of you. At least, it's certainly seemed that way in the dreams. We've, ah, gotten up to some rather risque things in those dreams," she said, blushing just a little bit.

"How much would you say you know about us, Sophia?" Arkady asked her, trying to parse all this knowledge with what he already knew.

"Intimately, and yet not at all, Master dwarf," she said with a slight shrug. "For example, I can tell you that your wife's right nipple is far more sensitive than her left, but I could not even hazard a guess at her name. Or yours."

Yasha was far too comfortable with her sexuality to be caught off guard by this, but nodded in confirmation, something Arkady knew all too well. "My name is Yasha Summervale," she said to the human, "and this is my husband, Arkady Gormansson. He is a Threadbinder and I--"

"--am a Threatbinder," Sophia finished for her. "Yes, m'lady, your professions I did know, as I have seen the Threatbinder colors several times before, and of course, your husband's attire is akin to Weesha's, whom I'm sure has informed you of my predicament. Sophia Burngrave, of the late Burngraves, at your service." She pantomimed a curtsy, clinging to an imaginary skirt as she crossed one leg behind her and dipped low. "Acrobat, knife thrower and juggler extraordinaire, if it pleases you both."

"You needn't bow to mages," Arkady said, although the slight undercurrent of his tone implied he found it amusing. "It isn't as though we're royalty."

"You may not be, Master Arkady, but she is," Sophia said, nodding in his wife's direction. "I recognize her from a portrait that I saw hanging in Daywander Castle, when we performed for King Tobias. Pardon my asking, Mistress, but how is it that everyone else in that portrait has aged so much and yet you remain remarkably the same?"

"Binders are paid in vitae, my dear," Yasha said, her voice kind and patient. Arkady had often regretted that children between their two kinds were so unlikely, as he'd often thought his wife would've made an excellent mother. Then again, perhaps it was for the best, as other binders struggled with the decision of whether to watch their children age and die, or to bring them into the business and retard their age in kind. "That means the more skilled or in demand of us can defy Mother Time's inescapable march for what might seem like an eternity."

"I imagine in comparison to our paltry little human lives, you must live eons," she said, not sounding at all bothered by the comparison. "I can't imagine wanting to live so long, to see everyone you know wither and die around you."

"That's typically why binders tend to live such nomadic lifestyles," Arkady said to her. "So as to only build attachments to a few things and people, and to protect them with every fiber of our fabric. Threadbinders find physical satisfaction with every taken commission, and Threatbinders, well..."

"It's alright, dear," Yasha said, laughing a little at her husband's hesitance to say it aloud, as if speaking the words would evoke the deed. "Threatbinders live a more intrinsically dangerous lifestyle, so nearly all of us die in the line of duty. I've never heard tale of a Threatbinder dying of old age unless they have chosen to retire from their profession. Accidents are almost as rare."

"Yes, well, I intend to make sure my wife makes it with me to retirement, when we have seen everything we want to do the worlds have to offer us," Arkady said, reaching up to give his wife's toned ass a good squeeze. "Although when it gets right down to it, my soldiering days have never held a candle to her martial skills. But we work together and get by."

"And I have more common sense than most Threatbinders when it comes to turning down prospective clients with death wishes," she chuckled. "There's challenging and then there's just insanity, and I'm not oathbound to accept any job I might feel uneasy about."

Arkady noted that the human woman never seemed to move more than an arm's length away from either himself or Yasha, as if she was afraid they were carved of dreamstuff and would disappear if they were looked at funny.

"How did you know to bring them here, Mistress Weesha?" Sophia asked the gnome. "When you explained it to me earlier, you said there were complications with my thread, and that you were writing for guidance. Are they the guidance that you wrote for?"

"I'm afraid not, child," Weesha sighed. "Word from the Academy is still forthcoming, but Arkady here might as well be a Grandmaster, so I decided to simply ask him to consult on your case, as he's far more experienced than I am, especially when it comes to dealing with your kind. He was delivering his most recent client to pair with one of my students. Him being at the end of one of your threads is... just a stroke of fate."

The dwarven mage grumbled. "I am not one who looks fondly upon coincidence, Weesha, but I can see no possible way that anyone would know that our paths would cross. The elven girl we brought with us was unremarkable, and her thread perfectly normal."

He felt Sophia's hand squeezing his, and despite how calloused and work worn her hands were, there was something astonishingly tender about her flesh on his. "Forgive me if this is a foolish question, Master Arkady, but couldn't you just have Weesha read your thread to verify the link?"

The dwarf found his own stumpy fingers curling around hers. "Once we begin the process of becoming a Threadbinder, it becomes impossible for our threads to be read, although threads leading to us can still be seen, which is how my wife was able to find me after I'd already begun my training. Long term romance is... uncommon for those in my profession."

Sophia clenched his hand a little more firmly. "But you could still read mine? That way you could see that I am connected to you and your wife." The woman licked her lips a little bit. "Is the ritual the same? A bit of vitae given, an orgasm given and one received?"

"It would be, yes, although I would reduce the vitae down to the absolute minimum, since you yet to receive what you'd already paid for," he said, stroking his beard with his other hand. "I would waive the vitae entirely, except it's a component to the magic, and the ritual will fail without it."

"And when you see that my thread connects to yours?" the woman said, her breath starting to quicken a little. "What then?"

"Let us not get ahead of ourselves, m'lady," Yasha said, taking the woman's other hand, and Arkady wondered if his wife felt the little jolt of electricity he did when they were all linked together. "We can retire to a private chamber, discuss all the details over a meal and then, if you still--"

"I want the ritual," Sophia said quickly, cutting her off. "Sorry. I want the ritual, Mistress, assuming you will honor me with your services, Master Arkady. I am afraid I am no innocent maiden, even before my encounter with Mistress Weesha, and I hope that does not sully me in your eyes."

The dwarf bristled at the very suggestion of impropriety. "Sully," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I have never understood how inexperience was something that men and women prized, rather than experience and learning. The more experienced, the better I say."

Sophia clutched his hand a bit more. "There... there is one more thing I should tell you, Mas--"

"For the sake of the gods, woman," Arkady said, momentarily losing his temper, "simply call me Arkady, otherwise we will be trapped within this conversation until the suns have fallen and risen all over again!" He laughed to himself, shaking his head, seeing her taken aback. "Apologies, Sophia, but honestly, we're going to be bare to each other in the immediate future, so I think we're well past honorifics and titles, don't you think?"

The acrobat giggled and nodded, as if she felt silly for having to had it pointed out to her. "Yes, I guess that's fair. But still, there is one more thing I do need to share."

The dwarf rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Then out with it!"

"I... I have traded on my body for coin now and again, since my parents past, when times were tough and I was in need of supplies. I take no shame in what I did, but I know there are those who feel differently about offering companionship to the lonely hearted."

"You're asking if I'm bothered that you've been a whore, Sophia?" he said, tilting his head in perplexion. "I, a mage who has sex for money in order to provide something to someone, am basically a whore myself, and I have never understood the implied disparagement that some people attach to that word. It is a proud word, and a fine profession. In dwarven culture, a whore is known as a joybringer, and it is considered a noble and challenging calling."

"In elvish heritage, it is similar, but the elvish word translates loosely to lightgifter, and those are simply the ones who tend to everyone," Yasha said. "It is a skilled trade, and quite competitive, with the most talented among them becoming courtesans to the rich and powerful, figures of great political and social influence."

The two mages both looked at the gnome, who grinned from ear to ear. "My people just call them the Smile Service," Weesha said. "You silly humans and your hangups."

"Well, don't I feel silly then," Sophia said, looking down at her leather boots. "Then I ask th--"

"May your wish be granted," Arkady said, cutting her off. "As eager as I am to see this unusual conflux of threads for myself, I truly must insist that we eat first. The journey here was made at breakneck pace and we chose not to take time for a proper meal along the way, so we are famished."

"It can difficult to eat on horseback," Sophia said.

"Mmm. It's even moreso atop a griffon," Yasha teased, knowing that Sophia had not seen them arrive, and had assumed they'd come in caravan. In a way, Arkady supposed, they had, but by sky instead of by land.

"I reckon we can rustle you up some grub and the three of you can make better acquaintance with each other in between the students peppering you with questions," the gnomish mage said, turning to walk away, leading them away from the combat arena.

"We're going to be eating with the students?" Arkady grumbled. "They're going to demand stories from us, aren't they?"

"Oh, you'll be fine, stoneface. C'mon."

Dinner actually turned out to be quite enjoyable, despite the students' endless questions about the greater world at large. The biggest problem with the frontier academies was that they were often a good distance from more sizable cities, and so they weren't up to date on all the gossip regarding conflicts and romances, with students asking about the great battles they'd seen and whether or not some of the princes and princesses had yet wed.

As much as he wasn't a creature of high society, lifetimes with Yasha had trained him how to hold court when he wanted to, and he did his best to regale the students, mostly elves and gnomes but with a couple of dwarves and a lone minotaur, with big tales of the things they had witnesses over their last few months of travel.

When he wanted to be, Arkady could be quite the storyteller, and he tailored each tale to the person who had asked about it, lingering in fineries when discussing romance and blustering about with his hands in the air as he detailed a great battle between an orcish army and a nest of dragons that they'd witnessed from the sky in passing a month or so ago.

It wasn't until they were on the dessert course when one of the students finally stomached up the courage to ask about Quiesh and how they had tamed her. He could see Yasha blanch at the way the student had phrased the question, but Arkady knew that griffons were so uncommon that the children didn't even know that to suggest that they had "tamed" her would normally be considered an affront, so he let the unintentional insult slide.

"One does not 'tame' a griffon, students," he said. "One befriends them. Around thirty years or so ago when Yasha and I were camping on a trip between the cities of Wendhurst and Ozro, we had set our wagon against a cliff face, as we were high up in the Enkhoal Mountains, and were just settling down to rest when we heard an animal cry of pain. Now you fledglings don't know my wife, but I knew the moment we heard it that we were going to go and provide aide to whatever it was we would find there. Her kindness is one of the many things I love about her."

"Were you frightened?" one of the elves, a boy of barely fifty, asked him.

"I fought in the Abari Wars, boy, and my wife has over a hundred confirmed kills in her tenure as a Threatbinder," he said with all the confidence in the world. "Of course we were frightened. It could've been anything, but we decided we would either help the creature or we would end its suffering and eat well for some time, depending on what we found."

"What did you find?"

"A mother gryphon had managed to get her hindleg caught between some fallen rocks, and was unable to escape. When we approached her, it seemed like she was starting to consider gnawing her own leg to escape, but off to one side, we could see a nest with four gryphon pups, a month old at best. She looked at us with anger and determination, a mother protecting her young, but gryphons are very smart creatures, and when my wife and I laid down our weapons and approached with our hands raised, she was still distrustful, but I suppose she decided she had no choice."

"When you began to move the rocks to free her, at first I thought she might bite your head off," Yasha said, "and I was terrified that we had made the wrong decision."

"What happened?" a gnomish girl asked him.

"She bit my head off, obviously, and I died, the end," he said, matter-of-factly, which made all the students burst into laughter. "Nay, it was a nerve-wracking project, but after a time, I had moved enough of the rocks away that the mother gryphon was able to pull her leg free and move away from the rocks."