Waiting for the Yisun's Bloom

"That would be all, Thorn, my brother."

I bowed and left for my room. Inside, I again tried to try my hand at writing but found myself reading instead. The loamy human prose inflamed earthy passions and hardened my raging spear. Blossom's shadow boiled water in the other room, and I imagined her sharing drink and more with the naked Spider. I touched myself, the game finally forgotten.

A soft knock made me jump upright. "One moment!" I hissed, and I tried to hide my shameful state. "Who's there?"

The whisper of a familiar, female voice answered: "It is I, Thorn, my brother."

I gave up on hiding myself under the too-thin blanket and exhaled. "Enter."

Nightshade slipped through the merest crack in the door. The hint of a veil shadowed her face. She wore a thin robe, and the ends of her opened belt dangled a finger's width over the floor. The silk folds hugged her body, parting in front, and I caught glimpses of her naked peaks. "Bold."

"Forgive me," I answered, my voice lowered to a whisper as well. "But I know that you know my weakness well, Nightshade, my Lady, and I would not attempt to deceive you."

"Bold." She, laughing, licked her lips. "But I am open to your demands."

"Forgive me, Nightshade, my Lady, but what demands?"

"The demands for your silence, Thorn, dearest brother." She crossed the room, crouched down, and placed the flat of her hand under my chin. "You would not attempt to deceive me, would you now, Thorn, my brother?"

I, seized by her subtle force, looked up and met her gaze. "I have no demands."

"Don't be daft." She placed her other hand on my cheek and pinched me. "I'll gladly pay the price of discretion. Do it, Thorn, be a man, and ask."

"I will not."

She laughed. "Then I will. Fuck me, Thorn, and in turn, keep your silence. A favour for your favour." She kissed my lips and placed a hand on my cock. "Tell me you want me!"

I grabbed her. She stumbled into my embrace, and I wrestled her down on her back. The fall of her open robe did not cover her sex, nor the wetness between her legs. I spread her open, and I positioned myself over her. She gasped as I told her through force. My tip grazed her opening, but I paused. "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

My weight pressed down on her, and I entered her. The smile on her red lips, naked under the thin fabric, urged me to kiss her, but I did not dare. She moved her head and offered up her neck instead. She moaned, louder with each thrust; and whenever I touched my mouth to her collarbone, nape, and tits. "You are beautiful," I whispered.

"I know." The sheen of arousal covered her body, and her hands were like coal on my back. She groped my ass and measured the line of my muscles with her slender fingers. "You are beautiful," she said.

"I'm close." I slammed into her, faster and ever faster. Her coarse bush brushed against my shaved skin, and our searching fingertips met atop the quiver.

"Come with me," she whispered, trembling. "Come inside me!" She bucked her hips and screamed. "Fuck me!"

A battlecry escaped my lips. She writhed under me, catching me with her scent, and with her legs crossed over my back. I came, and Nightshade screamed. She tightened around me, the light in her eyes constricted to pinpricks. I pulled out, and she milked the last drips with her hand. We did not hear the door open.

"Thorn." Blossom crouched down by the side of the bed and touched a gentle hand to Nightshade's stomach. "How discourteous of you to spill your loam inside a lady this noble, and an unmarried maiden besides."

I could not speak, trying to bow and to hide myself inside the blanket. The Spider chuckled.

"Nothing?" My charge laughed. "So it falls to me, I suppose, to offer restitution for your shameless behaviour."

Her tender touch reached the other's face, and she moved the veil. The Spider gasped, shied away, but then answered my charge's kiss. Their tongues danced, wrestled in bold union, and both beckoned me to watch. Blossom tore herself away and placed her lips on the same spots I had adored. Collarbone, nape, and tits. Then lower.

I gasped, and Nightshade giggled. The tip of Blossom's tongue reached the other's belly button and then touched the thicket. The Spider, shivering, ran her fingers through Blossom's hair and spread her legs. Blossom slurped, lapping up my seed. Nightshade moaned and I watched, shocked and aroused, as Blossom continued to pleasure her lover with her mouth. Renewed wetness bedewed her tongue when she paused to smile up at her lover. And at me.

Nightshade, shuddering, writhing, took hold of my arm. Her nails dug into my skin, and her open mouth formed a voiceless scream. She whispered something, threw back her head, and came. Admiration burned in her eyes, and Blossom smirked up at us. They embraced, their lips meeting for another hungry kiss, and I hung my head.

I could hear them in her room after, and every night that followed. My sleep turned restless, filled with loamsome dreams, but I got used to the loud noises and vivid images. Blossom was withdrawn during daytime, and the Spider woman no longer favoured me with her flirty interest.

But they insisted that I alone guard them as they took the airs together, their arms chastely linked, and talking to each other in hushed whispers. Only rarely, in the deepest gardens and darkest corners, Nightshade would pull my charge into an impassioned kiss, and I would guard them until they continued playing the pious courtiers.

Stinger rewarded my new station with hateful glances and was in turn rewarded by Thread's attention. He did not resist her long, and after a week I caught them in the gardens. Her naked form grasped the white trunk of an Yisun, the tree longing to bloom, and he entered her from behind. My poetry did not improve.

I did no longer notice the lack of sleep, and I had grown overconfident, blind to the growing danger. And so the sounds of their struggle, so similar to the sound of their repeated couplings, did not wake me immediately. Blossom called out -- but I, tossing and turning, closed my eyes again.

"Thorn!" She screamed, became muffled, then screamed again, louder: "Thorn!"

I woke, scrambled upright, and barrelled -- naked, without hesitation; without grabbing a blade -- through the wall between our rooms. Scraps of tattered paper flew through the air, and a wooden splinter grazed my naked skin. Blossom, naked as well, writhed underneath Nightshade.

The Spider woman wore her thin, open robe and nothing else. Slivers of her shredded veil had fallen to the floor or stuck to her grasping fingers. She tried to shield her face whenever she could free a hand. Shards of a broken cup and a puddle of dark liquid had spilled over the wooden floor. Both women were grabbing for each other's hands and necks, and for the ugly dagger just out of reach.

Three servants stood in the open door. A groundling man met my eyes, and he and one other then gawped at my swinging cock. He said something. I saw him point, saw them, and I lept. I crossed the distance to the bed in a heartbeat, and I kicked the Spider woman. My foot connected and her lithe form was flung through the air, through the opposite wall. The human screamed, and Nightshade wailed from where she had landed.

"What happened?" I asked. My blood ran hot, and I only thought about my charge's safety. "What are you doing here?" I picked up the knife but stopped myself halfway between Blossom's bed and the cowering Spider.

"We heard noises," the male servant claimed, backing away from the door. "And we feared the Lord's most esteemed guest might be in danger."

Nightshade scoffed and spat out blood. She left dark red handprints on the pristine paper as she wobbled upright. Her robe hung loose, torn, from her battered frame. She closed the belt, but it covered little of her nakedness. "Are you blind? Deaf? She is well protected, fool. Go on then, earth-born, and report to your master."

The human fled, and I lowered the weapon. "What happened?" The other two stayed behind, leering and lingering in the open door.

"What do you think?" Nightshade sounded close to breaking, and Blossom hung her head.

"What happens now?"

"What do you think?" Nightshade eyed the remaining humans, beckoned me closer, and lowered her voice. "I will have to claim that you turned violent after I tried to break up with you," the Spider said. "And that sweet Blossom aided you in this brutality. And you will claim that I -- as is the wont of my House -- made an attempt on Blossom's life." She looked over to my charge and saw her nod. "This is what happened. You still hold the knife."

My knees weakened, but I began to understand. "There will be blood," I said.

The women looked at each other and remained quiet. Blossom put on her full court-dress, and Nightshade eyed the door as if ready to run. I looked at the reflection in the sharpened silver and saw a shocked grimace reflected back at me. "Stinger then?" I asked, and Nightshade nodded.

Heavy footfalls heralded the arrival of the guards. The men armoured in their black carapaces were polite, but did not speak much. They sent away Nightshade, and two of them escorted my charge deep into the Keep's bowels. I protested, and their leader offered a few words of gruff reassurance. Then seven led me down into the cellars.

They led me into a small, dingy cell, and then left me to await my interrogator. Water dripped from the ceiling and pooled on the small table in the middle of the room. In the corner sat a lumpy mattress; uncomfortable, but dry. I made a half-hearted effort to reach the nest and noticed the leaden tiredness that weighed on my traitorous body. Then she arrived.

When she opened the door, I heard no one else, no guard nor escort outside. The Lady Spider wore a simpler dress than she had ever shown at court. Flowing pants and a thick jacket, comfortable but not stylish; both bereft of any ornamentations. She carried no visible weapons, not even her soul. Her half-mask turned her mouth into a snarling grin but left her eyes uncovered. "Tsum'Ein Thorn. A pleasure to finally met you. " She inclined her head in greeting. "My dearest Blossom has told me so much about you."

"Lady Spider." I bowed low, but she giggled.

"Come. Come." She pointed at the table and sat herself down. "I'm not one to stand on courtesy. And considering the circumstances... Come. Come and sit."

"Lady Spider." I sat opposite her and lowered my head.

"Well then. Why don't we start at the beginning..." She did not yet ask any questions but instead narrated our arrival at Silk-Bite Keep. "And Nightshade. You were intimate with her?"

"Yes."

"As I suspected. Well, you are a warrior, and even the soil should ever be close to your mind. As for Nightshade..." She fell silent as if waiting for me to fill in the gap. After a while, she continued: "... her way is her own, and like so many of our House she is called to walk close to the mud, and to balance life and honour on the edge of a knife. We shan't dwell on it safe for the events of this fateful night. Would you recount them for me, my dearest Thorn?"

I told her what I had witnessed. Blossom and Nightshade had fought, a dangerous weapon just out of reach. The servants of her House had watched but had made no attempt to save the life of my charge. I did not mention the women's state of undress, nor what the Spider had whispered to me.

"That was well spoken," said the Lady Spider. "Do you have any idea what might have been Nightshade's motive?"

"I do not pretend to understand the vagueries and dizzying heights of court intrigue. At a guess, Blossom gained some knowledge that -- forgive me my warrior's bluntness -- advantaged us over your noble House, and that," I paused, this once trying to find fitting words, "and that Lady Nightshade decided she had to conceal."

She repeated the last sentence back at me, mirth obvious in her voice. "Spoken well indeed, my dearest Thorn. I oh so wish that we could have become acquainted sooner. You deliciously confirmed all the talk about the men of your House, and I cannot help but wonder if that other rumour is true as well."

I obliged her: "What other rumour, Lady Spider?"

"Oh, that cunning tongue of yours, my dearest Thorn. And I do wonder if you would ever use its dexterity to serve a lady's need. Our men -- however many strange virtues they might otherwise possess -- are very much traditionalists in this matter."

"I would not ever doubt your words, Lady Spider, and I dare not speak above my station. But I am, now and always, your leal servant."

"That was well spoken," said the Lady Spider, and stood, "and I do hope you will match deeds to words." She undid the sash that served as her belt.

I rose, bowed, but remained fixed in place. She, seated open-legged on the table, beckoned me to her. The first traces of wetness bedewed her hairless sex, and her careful touch spelled another invitation. I lowered my head and finally approached her. The tip of my tongue touched her smooth skin. The noble Lady ran her fingers through my hair and rewarded my efforts with gasps and giggles. I kissed lower and tasted her for the first time.

The Lady Spider's loud moans soon filled the small cell. And I, shocked and aroused, redoubled my efforts. I crisscrossed my eager tongue over her thankful need. Our hands met on the table's edge where I trailed her fingers and dug deep into the dead wood. More and more wetness flooded my tongue; the Spider shuddered and writhed. I raised my other hand, caressed her hot skin, and groped her firm breast.

"Yes! Ohh, Progenitor bless this tongue! Yees!" She came, and the fire of tired admiration in her eyes made me smile.

"That was well done." The Lady Spider, catching her breath, touched her hand to my hair. She then pulled up her pants. "I enjoyed knowing you, my dear Thorn. Shame it only happened too late."

"Too late, my Lady Spider?" I asked. My lips tasted of her.

"Oh, my dearest Thorn. I am so sorry, but Stinger will challenge you. And Stinger has never lost a fight."

I, despite myself, started to laugh.

"How can you find this funny?"

"Forgive me, Lady Spider, but I have lost many fights."

The Lady Spider smiled. "I do wish -- I wish you the best." She inclined her head, and I bowed deep.

She left.

My confinement lasted until late the next morning, then Stinger's challenge arrived; calligraphed and tied to my bundled weapons and armour with a red, silken ribbon. Ally, the half-woman, aided me in tightening the straps. I slung the shellbreaker over my back and fastened my short soul to my side. Then the harp maiden led me back into the light.

Ancient Yisuns grew all around the duelling circle. The pale buds on the skeletal branches had not yet flowered, and traces of dark red winter bark still scabbed the trunks with weeping sores and screaming faces. They had seemed peaceful before, on our lonely walks through the gardens.

The Lord and Lady Spider were nowhere to be seen, but courtiers of every stripe swarmed the gardens. Some pretended to take in the early flowers or to meditate by the cyclefish ponds. Others crowded around the circle, making no efforts to disguise their eager bloodlust.

Blossom stood alone at the far end of the enclosure. On the other side, Nightshade whispered to her guardian. I bowed to them all, and Nightshade returned the gesture. Then my charge wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back.

"Are you alright?" Blossom asked.

"Do not worry, Blossom, my sister. I've got this."

She hid her face behind her fan, but I knew that she was not convinced. "Be careful," she whispered. "You know that..."

I nodded, and she gripped me tight.

Then Stinger stepped forward. "It is time." He wore a full helmet, fashioned to resemble the shape of a lurking snake. Bronzed scales glittered in the midday sun. Fangs framed his eyes, and the twisted, forked tongue ran along the ridge of his nose. More scales, more bronze covered his body. The foreign armour looked light, weightless even, but I knew the strength of groundling metalcraft.

He took a step towards me, and I half of one towards him. We bowed. He wore his honour and his soul strapped to his left side, and his fingers twitched close to the hilt of the longer blade. Both of us stepped back.

"You do not wear your honour," he said.

I gave no answer and watched his hand.

"How will you draw that heavy blade on your back, Thorn, my brother? Do you not fear my sting?" He stepped forward, miming an attack.

I stood, smiling, and did not move. The feint had been easy to read, and he moved not nearly as fast as he believed.

He chuckled, a hollow sound from beneath the metal. "You did not even flinch, Thorn, my brother. If I had followed through, you would be dead." He stepped to the side, and I mirrored his movement. "And I may lunge at you -- NOW!" He did not attack. "Or NOW."

The attack came a few heartbeats after his scream. He drew his weapon in one swift motion and darted forward at the same time. The arc of the blade aimed at where my head had been when he screamed.

I had read his all-out attack, and when the edge missed my neck, he had no follow-through. But he rallied quickly, and his silver flashed with genuine speed. He came for me again, now with his soul. A thin, green-tinged film coated the blade in his off-hand.

Its spinning tip caught my arm. For a heartbeat, scraping metal bit along the lacquer. I felt no pain, but even a scratch would end me. Then my boot connected with his armour. He, winded, staggered back.

"Please..." He wheezed and tried to ward me off with his blades.

I drew the shellbreaker. A single motion, almost as fast as he had been. He attempted a desperate dodge, and I let him. Then the blade fell, and cut clean through his weak spot. Warped bronze flew, blood sprayed, and the heavy weapon severed his elbow at the joint.

He stood; screaming, bleeding, and blinded by the pain. The backswing came swiftly. Inescapable. Gore and blood sprayed, then his lifeless upper body hit the ground. Someone gasped, and I saw the crying Nightshade sink to her knees. I dropped the shellbreaker.

Blossom hurried to my side. "Can you walk?" She, unconcerned with the stunned onlookers, put my arm over her shoulder, and pulled me back to her quarters. Inside, she had prepared her tools. Pots were boiling, filled with some fragrant blend and clean water. She had collected pungent salves in open boxes, and colourful tinctures in small bottles. There were daggers, scalpels, and metallic sticks whose use I could only guess. Silk, sponges, and other bandages.

"Quickly." She forced me down on a pillow and tried to remove the heavy plates that covered my arm. I pulled off the gauntlet, and we undid the armour straps together. "I can't see a cut," she said. Her fingers trailed along the veins and prodded my skin. "Hold still." Gazing down, I did not find a wound either.

Sudden pain made me jump. "Hold still," she said, and again pressed the fabric, soaked in boiling infusions, against my tender arm. Cold sweat dripped from my face, and the sour taste of sick offended my tongue. I forced the vomit back down.

"There. There." She cleaned the invisible wound again, with well-cold water this time, and I now noticed the weight of her frame on my knees. My cock responded. She clicked her tongue. "What's that, Thorn, my brother?"

I gave her her answer, but I did not meet her eyes. "The soiled warrior's blood, Blossom, my -- my sister." A few drops of water, or maybe blood, had fallen to the floor.

"I see." She did not move. "You are a warrior, and even the soil should ever be close to your mind. I saw you fight." She shifted her weight, and her warmth radiated closer to my root. "And this may be a side effect. Of poison or of treatment."