Spirits of the Earth

On a lone road heading into Ketra, a small drama had played out not five minutes ago. A carriage transporting a minor young nobleman had been leaving the city, and it only had two guards there to defend it. Idiots. The young noble might not be important enough to have surplus amounts of guards, but surely he had money.

And Briar, the famous, awesome, legendary bandit was in just the right place at the right time, riding her horse on the road heading into Ketra, and had come upon them.

And taken advantage.

Removing her gloves and drawing her sword, a weapon she had found on an old battlefield long ago, she wielded the weapon with a skill that wasn't hers. No, her skill belonged to Gideon, the sword's last owner, and he had been a master swordsman until someone better ran him through--all facts she had learned through her contact with the sword as she absorbed its energy, its memories, and channeled the skill of its owner. She dismounted and took out one guard with a few quick strikes; they were well trained, but they were not masters. Neither was she, and though she gained the knowledge in a strange, intuitive, instinctive way she felt in her very bones, her body was still not used to moving that way, and there was still a learning curve whenever it came to channeling her ability.

Neither guard was prepared for a common bandit to be so skilled--much less a much smaller woman.

The second soldier slipped inside her guard when she got a little too cocky and slammed his shoulder into her, knocking her to the ground with a grunt. But she acted fast, swiping his legs out from under him with a swift kick that was all her and not Gideon before bouncing to her feet and knocking him out with another hard kick to the head.

That was also all her.

With both guards out, Briar dusted off her hands--and winced a little when she realized she was bleeding.

She'd broken a nail in her fall.

"Bloody hell."

With a toss of her hair, she sheathed her sword and marched for the carriage, yanking open the curtain, to find none other than the young nobleman, cowering in his seat and whimpering in fear. "I-I don't have anything, I swear! Please! Please don't hurt me!"

"Oh, quit your blubbering! Honestly! Carrying on like you're wounded or something, when the real victim here is me! I mean, will you get a look at this shit?"

Briar waved her bare hand under the young nobleman's nose so he could get a look at her fingers--and the broken nail on her pinky, split down to the quick and bleeding just a tad. She wiggled it emphatically, just in case he didn't notice. "Behold! I bleed! I should be the one crying here, after those useless brutes assaulted me so! Not you! Really, this hurts me more than it hurts you."

Briar popped her finger in her mouth and sucked, then looked at the young noble, who looked like he was trying to do his best turtle impression. With a predatory smile, she plopped down onto the plush seat next to him and drew her dagger from her belt. Then she slung her arm around his shoulders like he was an old friend--except for the fact that she had a dagger, and it was pressed against his throat.

"Now, old friend, I'd rather remain the only injured party here, if you know what I mean. Because it would absolutely slay me should anything happen to you! That'd be so tragic! So why don't you just go ahead hand over all your jewels and rings before I cut them off your pretty little fingers, hm? And tell me where you keep your money while you're at it. I know you're not wearing everything you have. You nobles always keep secret compartments, so spit it out before I start carving my boredom into you."

        Dirk stood in the shadow of a tree, the city nearby was a large one. Ketra, he'd learned, was the capital of Adela, and center of trade. It also boasted one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, military's on this continent. Of course the Adelan military was spread across the country, in other cities, and various outposts, but this was the center of it's might. Bustling places made Dirk a bit nervous. They were a good place to find jobs, to find ways to do good, but there were so many people. He didn't quite understand people yet, Rit had not been thorough in educating him in that regard, and they rarely understood him.
        He was dressed as he always was, clad in black armor, much like that of his mentor, Ritousaey, wrapped in a deep black cloak, hood pulled up, and a black cloth mask that covers his nose, mouth, and chin. His grey eyes peered out at the road that ran along to the city, watching as he thought about going into such a populated area. He brushed back a few strands of gold hair that peeked out a bit from beneath his hood as a soft breeze shook them loose. At the sight of the approaching carriage, he adjusted the kukri across the small of his back, beneath his cloak. He nervously touched at the many hidden throwing daggers that were tucked into places throughout his armor, as he watched the carriage roll nearer. The hand that didn't adjust and check his other weapons was resting across the dirk hanging on his hip, and the grappling hook that hung beside it. Even though he fidgeted, he was still ready for a fight, the instinct driven into him by his training. Really, it was the sun that caused most of his nervousness. It was hard to find shadows to melt into in the sun.
        He saw the bandit approaching, and sensed her intent from her movements, as well as her confidence. He moved immediately. Justice never hesitates. He wasn't close enough to get to the carriage before the fighting was quickly concluded, but he made it just as the woman entered the carriage. Dirk checked that the two men were living, and it seemed they would survive their wounds. At least the bandit had not murdered anyone. It was just assault at this point, and highway robbery he supposed. He moved up to the carriage, the soft leather of his magic boots making not a sound as he moved up. She had conveniently left the carriage door opened as she entered so she would not be alerted to his presence. He bid his cloak darken the shadows around him and with a quick motion he reached into the compartment. His strong grip twisted the bandits held blade away from the nobles throat as his other hand came in quick. His bare knuckles collided with the woman's nose, he was not bias against gender and did not hold back, and a pinched pressure point had her dagger falling from her grip. His bracers giving him quickened movements, Dirk shifted his grip on her wrist to the front of her shirt as his he hit her in the face a second and third time. Both hands gripping her by her front he pulled her from the carriage and tossed her to the ground on her back.
        "I'm sure you're already aware," Dirk said in his usual flat tone, "but highway robbery is a crime."

Briar was just cocky enough that she hadn't anticipated that anyone would witness her robbery. So wrapped up was she in intimidating the trembling nobleman, she didn't see, or hear, the man's rescuer arrive.

Not until a strong hand was twisting her blade away, and her nose was eating a fist.

Pain exploded in her face, bright lights flashing behind her eyes, as she was struck again and again, and then suddenly she was airborne--at least, until her back hit the ground with enough force that the air left her lungs in a whoosh. She wheezed and moaned, clutching at her nose, which was broken and pouring out a ridiculous amount of blood, as broken noses did. It dripped down her face and dribbled into her mouth, and when her head stopped reeling and she came back to her senses, she rolled over onto her side, and then pushed up onto her knees, and spit blood out to the side.

Right before she glared death up at the man that had broken her nose, and thought he was being soooo smart informing her of the very laws she was blatantly and deliberately breaking!

"Whoa, what?! REALLY? It's a fucking crime?! You've gotta be kidding me!" she gasped, pressing her bloodied hands to the sides of her face in exaggerated shock. She spit out more blood and climbed to her feet, her hand going down to the pommel of her sword. Already she could feel the rush of energy leaking from it into her, and her hand gripped the handle before drawing it with a metallic hiss.

She hated meddlers.

"Since when? I mean, that's a pretty radical statement there, buddy. You got any proof to back it up? Because you better be willing to back that up, or you better high tail it right quick and forget you saw this. In case you're wondering, the second choice is the smarter one! Not that I expect you'll take it! You look really dim!"

        Briar's sarcasm was not totally lost on Dirk. He had encountered such before. Villains always liked to talk it seemed, and sarcasm was second only to overconfident boasting. He just didn't understand the waste of breath in a combat situation. Perhaps as a stalling tactic, but not just for the sake of the words themselves. Why say you were going to win, when actually winning would be greater proof of your prowess? He didn't care what she was saying really, and even if what she was doing was not a crime here, which was unlikely, it was still wrong. He would not let this bandit do as she pleased, it would go against who he was.
        Blood running down her face, expression twisted with disdain, she spat insults at him as she drew her blade. He sensed a change in her when she grabbed the sword, her posture changed, he could sense she was more capable now than a moment before. Magic blade? It didn't matter. Dirk did a back flip to quickly widen the space between them, flinging two of his throwing daggers at her as he whirled through the air. His hood fell back as he feet slid across the dirt road, and as soon as his feet had touched back to the ground, his dirk and kukri seemed to leap into his hands. Golden hair swirling in the light breeze, he assumed his combat stance. As always, he would not hold back. He tried not to take lives wantonly, but he would not risk his life for the sake of hers. He'd disable her as quickly as possible, but if she persisted, taking her life might be his only course. It would all depend on how determined she was to die.

With another person's reflexes flowing through her, Briar sidestepped to miss the first dagger, and blocked the second with a quick flick of her sword. The boy was all fancy with fancy moves and shit, but so far, she wasn't impressed! She advanced on him as he assumed a combat stance, and spat out more blood. Fucking annoying broken nose!

"Looks like you're picking the stupid option. Figures," she said as she began to circle him, stance confident yet cautious. She didn't want to kill him. And she wouldn't, if she could safely disarm and disable him. She just wanted the damned money; killing a pretty thing like him was just a waste.

"Why do you even care about that guy, anyway? You know him? He's just some noble brat! He won't even notice he's been robbed! Probably has enough back home to roll around in, so what's the big deal? He can spare a little! Serves him right, anyway, for having incompetent guards! See, I'm really just helping him here! If he's smart, he'll have more guards next time, and better trained, at that!"

        "Your justification of your actions does not make them right," Dirk said flatly. He twirled his blades in his hands as he stalked forward. His hands were moving faster than humanly possible, the bracers magic in constant effect. He brushed the blades together, their meteoric metal throwing sparks. "I'd prefer not to kill you," he told her, "I'd like to know your name, in case your death comes soon. I am Dirk."

Briar snorted and tossed her head, the golden hoops at the end of her hair tinkling at they knocked against each other. "Blah-de-fucking-blah. Do I look like I care about what's right or wrong? Anyway, Dick--oh, sorry, Dirk--the name's Briar. Do try to remember it when I knock you silly and strip you of that armor. It looks valuable!"

And no sooner had the words left her mouth that she moved in close and thrust at him with her sword, though it was less to attack him, and more to spur him into action.

        "Briar," Dirk parroted, "noun, one of many prickly scrambling shrubs, especially the sweetbrier and other wild roses. Am I to take it your name is a metaphor for beauty at the price of pain?" Dirk asked genuinely, "or did your parents give you the name?" Dirk easily parried Briar's thrust aside and remained in his defensive stance. He would read his opponent first, and then take action. So far, that single attack, seemed completely without conviction.

Briar blinked at his question, then brightened with a smile. "So you're not a total dumbass after all. Yeah, it's a metaphor," she said, and promptly swung in close with a series of fierce blows and thrusts, trying to force him into action since that last feint hadn't worked.

Dirk wasn't the only one hoping to get a read on his opponent.

        Dirk felt Briar's intensity increase as she swung and thrust at him. He still felt she was holding back, but he wasn't sure. He could tell though that she was the type to easily get riled though, so he decided to use a taunt that Rit had used on him. Since verbal taunts were cultural, and Dirk knew nothing of Briar or her culture, he went with something physical. He parried her blade, with little effort, then sheathed his dirk. With a lightning quick motion, he brought his bare hand in a slap across her face, then drew his dirk once more. Moving that quick was an effort to keep his mind up to the speed of his hand, and so he took a large step back afterward. No need to overtax himself if he didn't have to. He struck his blades against each other again throwing sparks toward Briar.
        "I really would prefer not to take your life," he told her flatly.

Before Briar saw it coming--literally!--Dirk's hand smacked across her face, snapping her head back from the force and shock of it. She reeled, stumbling backwards, one hand pressed to her cheek. Some people claimed they saw stars when they suffered a blow, and Briar saw things, all right--but they weren't stars, they weren't flashes of light and pain. She saw images, flashing across her vision faster than she could register, faster than she could understand, mixed with intense bursts of emotion and feeling and memory, a confusing blend that flooded her mind and crammed inside her brain until it felt like it might burst, and then it was gone, lightning fast, gone as soon as his hand was off her.

It wasn't the physical pain that stung most.

Touching other people was always the worst. Objects were one thing; they were filled with stored memories. But they were also static. People? People were living and vibrant and awful--especially when she hadn't braced herself for contact.

Dazed, she staggered and nearly fell, but managed to right herself just in time. She shook herself, trying to get rid of the psychic static still buzzing in her brain like bees, and then glared knives at Dirk.

He had no idea how insulting that was, more insulting, even, than if she hadn't had her damned curse.

"Motherfucker!" she snarled, and all bets were off then, because he'd touched her bare skin, he'd smacked her across the face and violated her head with his damned humanness, and now the bastard was going down! She charged at him then, no longer testing him, now fully intent on dispatching him as she came at him with swift, fierce swings that clearly said she was out for blood now.

        The slap Dirk brought across Briar's face was more staggering than he had expected it to be. Perhaps there was some unseen variable here, or perhaps he had struck her harder than he thought. Had he stayed in close he could have dealt a death blow to her then and there. His intention was not her death though, so it was of little consequence. After Briar recovered from her stagger, and threw at him a curse, her movements had picked up speed and strength. It seemed now she was giving it her all. It was not a struggle, not like fighting a nearly omnipotent being, but at least it was no longer a bore.
        Dirk parried and dodged, moving on the defensive, his two blades dancing with unmatched speed and grace, leaving swirls of color in their wakes. He struck the meteoric metal hard against Briars sword, hard enough that she'd feel the vibrations up her arms. He didn't have to back peddle much to keep her at bay, relying more on his own quick hands to turn her thrusts aside. Occasionally he'd catch a small opening in her relentless assault, and he'd slip in to nick her, making small cuts in her cloths, drawing tiny beads of blood from her flesh. The blood would have been more useful to Dirk if he'd had any aptitude at the soul magic Rit had tried to teach the boy. He could have given the boy the aptitude, but Rit said that would be cheating. It made no difference to Dirk, the cuts would add up. Eventually Briar would slow. Tiny as they were, in multitude, they would act as raindrops eroding mountains.
        "If you surrender," Dirk said to Briar, during her ferocious assault, "it will spare you much pain."

Each small nick made Briar's breath hitch, made her flinch, but it also only pissed her off more, because he was playing with her and wasn't even taking this seriously! He was messing with her, making it clear that he could have done more damage if he wanted to, but was choosing not to.

Unfortunately for Briar, having the stolen knowledge of how to fight gave her skill, certainly, but not stamina or strength. That all had to come from her own body, and she didn't have the same build or experience as the dead man whose sword she wielded. He had been a large man, one built like a house, with decades of experience on a petty thief like her.

Stealing his technical knowledge also didn't give her his patience or wisdom.

Shallow rivulets of blood from the shallow cuts were running down her arms, staining her breeches, blossoming on her shirt. She ignored them, because they were nothing, and only increased the ferocity of her assault.

"Surrender? You're funny," she spat at him, right before she went in for another fierce series of jabs, thrusts, and powerful swings, never attacking the same area twice, trying to keep him on his toes and find a good opening. "Not 'funny ha ha', but 'funny you make me sick'!"

...Literally.

She realized, perhaps too late, that she was starting to feel unwell. She realized it when the first bout of dizziness hit, as fatigue began to set into limbs that weren't used to working this way. She'd used the sword before, but not against people this experienced, so those fights had been shorter.

She'd never fought long enough to find the edges of her endurance, and now she was really starting to feel the aches in her muscles, the sting of the cuts, the exhaustion...

She stumbled, but managed to get her sword up in time to parry a blow, and she tried to use that motion to move inside. "If you surrender," she breathed, "I might not kill you."

        Dirk was confused. Briar obviously had technical skill, but she seemed to be waning sooner than he would have expected. The amount of time it took to learn the patterns and combos she was using would have built up her strength and endurance. It didn't make sense to him, and she should have backed off and moved to a defensive stance with the amount of nicks he was leaving on her. Instead she moved forward inside his weak thrust. As she moved forward, he redirected her blade aside and brought his elbow into the side of her head.
        He stepped back from her after the connection so that he could survey his surroundings freely. A sudden gust of wind blew back the hood of Dirk's cloak, and he noticed that the unconscious footman was rising from the ground. With Briar's efforts slowing, Dirk sheathed his long thrusting dagger. He only needed his kukri to keep up a sufficient defense.
        With his free hand he reached up and pulled down his mask, now completely exposing his pale face and flaxen hair. His expression remained stoic as he watched the guard check on his wounded companion. From where he was fighting with Briar, it seemed to Dirk that the other guard would survive his wounds. Now that he was sure his companion would live, the footman went to check on the noble in the carriage. If he did not end this fight soon the guard may come to assist him, and then Briar would likely not survive.
        "This is going to hurt," Dirk told Briar plainly, "but it's for your own good. I'd rather have to tend to your wounds than let those guards kill you." He swept back his cloak as he sheathed his kukri, and spun, sweeping the fabric across at her. When the motion was complete, he threw two daggers he had pulled from hidden places. A back flip to get more space between them, and four more of Dirk's projectiles were flying out at Briar. He aimed for her shoulders, hands, and feet. Wounds that would disable but not kill her. As long as she didn't move into them poorly, or parry one into an artery, he be able to disarm her and finish the fight.

Briar was still reeling from the blow to her head--no skin to skin this time, but purely from the physical force of it. She staggered, lights flashing behind her eyes and only made worse by her fatigue, and she had only just begun to recover when Dirk made his final attack.

She didn't have time to dodge or react before she had a face full of cape. Agitated, she shook her head to dislodge it--just in time for Dirk's daggers to hit.

Yeah.

That fucking hurt.

Two went into her hands, and she cried out and dropped the sword as her muscles spasmed in pain. Two more in her shoulders and another two in her feet had her dropping to the ground. Cursing wildly, she tore the first two from her hands, and started plucking the other two from her shoulders even as pain raced down her arms from the injured muscle.

        Dirk stepped forward as Briar was pulling the daggers from her wounds. He grabbed at one the daggers in her shoulder and twisted it fiercely. As the pain was registering for Briar, Dirk moved behind her and struck her hard on the back of the head, in the hopes of knocking her out. Hopefully it wouldn't take more than the single blow. With success, he planned on throwing the woman over his shoulder and lugging her into the woods nearby. Without the assailant nearby, the footman, would likely take his companion, and his charge, back to the city to visit a chirurgeon, or other healer.
        Since he had only two guards with him, the nobleman would probably not have the wealth or power to create a search for Briar. That meant she was likely safe from violent retribution. She was still a criminal though, and Dirk would have to deal with that. She needed to pay for her crimes, but in a fair way, with a trial, not with wonton violence, and an impromptu execution. He'd have to figure out what authorities he needed to take her to.

If the blow to her head hadn't knocked her out, Briar likely would have passed out from the sheer agony of his vicious knife twist. She hadn't fully registered the pain of being stabbed as it shocked her body, but she did register the twisting! She screamed, but it was abruptly cut off, and she slumped forward and to the side as her eyes rolled back into her head.

        Dirk unceremoniously pulled the remaining daggers from Briar's flesh, letting the blades fall to the ground. He quickly readjusted his cloak, and mask, then threw Briar over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He was not pleased that she was bleeding on him, but he knew it was his own fault for wounding her so much. With her sword in hand, he moved quickly to the trees. He had passed a stone basin earlier in the day, that looked to have been used by an ancient people. Dirk took Briar there, and set her gently in the center of the concave stone. Then he undressed her. When she awoke she'd likely be furious, but he needed to see all her wounds, and her clothing was in the way.
        When she seemed to be stirring, Dirk used a mixture of opium and hemlock to send her into a deeper sleep. Stripped nude, Briar's wounds were easy to see and tend to. Her bare chest, and exposed sex, did not elicit embarrassment or arousal from Dirk. It wasn't that he didn't find her nude form appealing, he just didn't have the social knowledge to realize that he should feel any way other than clinical. Dirk started by bathing Briar. He used his magic heating stones, to warm water from his magic decanter, in a steel basin, and sponged Briar clean. He next sutured the severe wounds from his daggers with fine silk thread. He applied a healing salve to the sutures, and wrapped them in white linen bandages. He applied the salve to all the small nicks he had left in her as well, and the little trickles of blood that had yet to cease, finally did.
        He did not wish for her to be uncomfortable as she rested, so he did not bind her hands or feet to prevent her from running should she rise. Instead he pulled a plush bedroll from within his his well worn Haversack, and laid it out on the edge of the stone. He shifted Briar's nude form there, and then fetched through his Haversack for a temporary garment. A fancy black silk robe with gold embroidery found his fingers and it was large enough for Briar to swim in. He pulled it on her as gently as possible, tying the belt loosely around her middle, then set her down to sleep. After giving her another, larger, dose of his sedative, he moved off to tend to a camp. It may have only been mid day, but she would need lots of rest to recover from her wounds.
        While Briar slept, Dirk caught a large fish, snared a small rabbit, and found a quail nest. He rooted around for some wild vegetables, and found some edible berries. He gathered firewood, and built a fire in the center of the concave stone, close enough to warm Briar, and large enough to cook with. He stewed the rabbit with wild carrots, radishes, and a single potato. The fish he braised in a tomato and garlic sauce from supplies he carried with him. The quail he roasted on a spit, slathered in a sweet, spicy, smokey sauce that Rit had made for him. The bottle renewed itself so he would never run out. While he cooked, Dirk also washed Briar's clothing, even her smallclothes, and mended all the cuts and tears in them. He hung them on a quickly improvised rack near the fire, to dry. Her boots were ruined, but he patched the leather the best he could, until he could make her new ones. He even sharpened and polished her sword.
        Tasks completed, Dirk just sat across the fire from Briar, food almost finished cooking, waiting for her to awaken. He knew he'd likely have to subdue her, but that in her greatly weakened condition it wouldn't be hard. Hopefully she would eat, and let him care for her until she was healed. After going to all this trouble, he wasn't sure what he'd do with her. She was a criminal after all. Perhaps the torturous fight he'd put her through was punishment enough? She hadn't killed anyone, and she'd nearly bled to death herself. He'd have to decide after they properly got to know each other.
        Even though the magic of Dirk's ring prevented the need to eat, he found the smell of the food he cooked for briar tempting him. Hopefully she'd wake soon, so he could ask her how she liked her eggs and they could start eating. The moon was out now, she should wake any time.

The first thing that registered for Briar was that she felt like fucking shit. She didn't know what shit felt like, given it didn't have emotions, but if she were shit, she was pretty sure this is what it would be like.

She came to with a groan, because everything ached and throbbed and her head felt like it had been packed with nails and cotton. Cracking her eyes open, she could see the night sky through a mess of branches and leaves, but the light around her was warm and flickering. A fire? She reached up to rub at her face with her hands, and found them bandaged and sore and otherwise bare, without her gloves. For a second, this confused her and she stared at them, turning them this way and that, the tattoos on her palms hidden. What the...?

And then memory began to filter down through her cotton-filled brain and she remembered. She'd been fighting some prick, and he'd stabbed her a bunch, and then...

And then she was here.

A flash of fear went through her, but she didn't jolt or gasp, and instead held very still even as it curled in her belly. What the fuck? Where the fuck was she? She wasn't tied up, which was confusing, and she was laying on something soft and plush and--

Wait.

What the fuck was she wearing?

Or rather, what the fuck wasn't she wearing?!

The fabric felt silky against her skin. Silky. And went she reached down with a tentative hand, she found that, beneath the silk, her smallclothes were gone.

MOTHERFUCKER!

Her face burned with realization, the realization that someone had stripped her down and put her in some silky black monstrosity, and with it came a burning sense of violation. Casting a look around the area, she soon caught sight of the culprit, sitting at the fire.

It was the blond asshole she'd been fighting.

The fucker had actually brought her here, stripped her down, and fixed her wounds? What the hell?!

What else had he done while she was out?!

"Motherfucker!" she said, and though she had meant to throw it out viciously, to yell it at him, and to say some other choice words, it came out as a dry, weak croak. She struggled to sit up, even as pain flared up, and swayed where she sat, unsteady. The drugs he'd given her had faded enough for her to wake, but were not out of her system, and they left her feeling dizzy and loopy. "The hell you do to me? What am I wearing?! Goddamn creep!"

        "You're wearing something clean," Dirk said, standing from his spot by the fire. "Your clothes will be dry by morning," he told her, "and I've patched them up as well as washed them." He stirred the stew, with a ladle and pulled a bowl from his bag. "I've made you a bit of food. You'll need plenty of fuel for the healing. If you want to be able to hold a sword again soon, you'll need to take some medicine I have. How do you take your eggs? I haven't cooked them yet, since I didn't know your preference."
        The awkwardness of the situation escaped Dirk completely, and his bland tone probably did little to calm Briar. He was alert, and ready to take action if he needed to, but for now he gave her facts, and hoped that would be enough. Why she called him a creep he didn't understand at all though. He had beaten her in combat, sure, but he had also saved her, and tended to her. How did that make him a creep.
        "What would you like to start with? Fish, quail, or rabbit stew?"

The fact that he acknowledged only some of what she said and not all of it only infuriated and worried Briar more. Especially since he was being so goddamned logical and calm in a situation that was neither of those things! To her, it felt like she was evading the question! Even though she hadn't outright asked the question, but she'd implied it well enough!

"Fuck your eggs!" she snapped, voice still hoarse. "Why am I naked?! Why am I in silk, of all fucking things?! What did you do to me while I was out?! Where are my smallclothes?! You touched me, didn't you?!"

Her face was burning from a combination of rage and embarrassment and mortification, and she struggled for a moment to rise, but plopped back down onto her ass when the world pitched and tilted until she almost lost that morning's breakfast. She clutched at her head, and then sucked in a breath when her hands twinged with sharp pain. Just her luck, she was stuck with some sicko!

        "Of course I touched you," Dirk replied, oblivious to Briar's meaning, "how else could I stitch and clean your wounds? I don't have magic, I can't do it without touching you." He pointed at her drying clothing, hanging by the fire. "Your smallclothes are there," he told her, "as I said, I washed your clothes and they are drying. While you were out, I undressed you, cleaned you, stitched you, bandaged you, dressed you in that robe, and set you there to rest." As he listed the things he did to her while she was out, he ticked them off on his fingers, making sure he didn't miss anything. "As for the robe, you're in it because I figured you'd prefer to be clothed, rather than naked, which you are not naked, and that's what I had that would fit you comfortably. Is there something wrong with it? It seemed acceptable to me." He sipped at the stew, checking it's flavor one last time. It seemed perfect to him. Ready to be served.
        "Would you like to eat now," he asked with what seemed like it might be impatience, "or do you have more questions about the quality of care? Perhaps you would prefer I treat you as the criminal you are," his tone almost took on a bit of petulance, almost. "I have rope I can bind you with, and manacles. If that's what you prefer I can do that, or you can stop crying and eat the food I went to all this trouble to make for you."

Briar balked when he admitted to touching her, and was about to lose her shit, but when he continued it...

Became kind of clear that they were talking about two different things?

It made it better, knowing he hadn't creeped on her, but she still didn't like it. He'd still seen her naked! And still handled her, while she was naked! And still put his grimy hands on her skin! To fix her up, sure, but the thought still made her skin crawl. Maybe it wouldn't have been such an anxiety-inducing thought if she hadn't been cursed with her ability, but as it was, even simple, casual, platonic touches felt intensely intimate and invasive and unpleasant to her. Good thing she'd been unconscious for that experience.

Still, he'd seen her naked and handled her smallclothes. Wow. What an icebreaker.

Still burning with anger and embarrassment, Briar let out an agitated huff and looked away, and the world spun a bit after. This was a horridly awkward situation. Her go-to response when she felt cornered like this was usually action, or violence of some kind, but she was obviously in no condition. Just sitting up was taking all the energy she had to give.

"Well, why aren't you treating me like a criminal, anyway?" she grumbled, suspicious.

        "My mentor taught me to be kind first," Dirk explained, "and since you didn't kill anyone, and my actions stopped you from committing any crime other than physical violence toward innocents, I felt that the wounds I gave you, and the defeat, were perhaps punishment enough. I'm reserving judgment though. If you prove to be an assassin or murderer, I will turn you over to the proper authorities." He ladled some of the rabbit stew into the bowl, made his way around to Briar, took a sip so she could see it wasn't poisoned, and then offered it to her. "Rabbit stew, with potatoes and wild vegetables."

Briar gave a derisive snort. "As though the authorities could handle me," she said, and eyed the bowl he handed to her.

She didn't take it from him right away, but glanced at it and at the placement of his hands on it. "Where are my gloves?" She trusted the soup wasn't poisoned; he wouldn't have gone through all the effort of caring for her if he planned on killing her now, and he'd wanted to do that, she wouldn't have woken up at all. But she didn't really want to start handling his items willy nilly.

        "I stitched the holes in them," Dirk told Briar. He pointed to where here boots were sitting by the hanging clothes. The gloves were resting on top of them. "It will likely be hard to put them on with those bandages," he pointed out. "Why do you need gloves to eat stew?"

"I don't need them to eat," Briar said, looking to where her gloves sat. "But I want them. Make yourself useful and grab them for me, will you?"

        Without question, Dirk set the stew on the bedroll next to Briar -spoon included- and went to go get her gloves. It was only a few steps to grab them, and when he returned he held them out to her.
        "I want to make sure I point out that you have little mobility in your hands," Dirk said to Briar, "and if you hurt them further, you may never hold your sword the same."

He actually listened. Huh! Rather pleased with that, Briar reached out to snatch the gloves from Dirk, but ended up dropping them instead when her hands refused to cooperate. She'd been stabbed through the palms, and that had damaged all sorts of muscle and tendon--all of it connected to her fingers. And it hurt like a bitch when she tried to flex them. She flinched, gasping in pain, and clenched her teeth together in frustration. Not only that, but it was awkward as hell trying to move her hands with them bandaged as they were.

They were basically useless.

"Fuck. And you know whose fault it'll be if they're permanently damaged? The jackass who thought it was a great idea to stab me in the hands! Thanks, buddy! Really appreciate it! Loved that you threw some knives in my feet and shoulders for good measure! That was super sweet of you."

        "You're welcome," Dirk said with complete sincerity, "Your throat and face would have been easier targets, but I figured you'd prefer wounds that wouldn't kill you. With the medicine I have, you'll make a full recovery in a few days," he told Briar, "as long as you don't hurt yourself worse in the mean time."

"You're welcome? You're welcome! This wasn't a--I wasn't actually thanking you! Gods, are you dense or what! You could've at least left my hands alone! How the fuck am I supposed to even eat this shit?"

Briar nodded at the soup.

        "Carefully," Dirk replied frankly. He was not impressed with her tantrum. That's what he thought this was, but he wasn't totally sure. It seemed similar to what he heard mothers reprimand their children for. He wouldn't know anything about it from first hand experience though.
        "If it's too difficult a task for you, I can feed it to you if you like," he told Briar. He really would feed her, if that's what she required. It didn't seem like such a difficult task to hold a spoon and eat the stew. She didn't need fine motor skills for that. It wasn't embroidery. "It's your choice."

He had to be joking. "I think I can manage something like eating a bowl of fucking soup!" she snapped and, glaring at him, she reached for the bowl.

Carefully grabbing the spoon's handle between her index and middle finger, scissoring it between the digits so as not to move her fingers too much, she tapped it free of liquid and then set it aside. Then she took the bowl between her palms, grimacing when she pressed against the wounds--and as the contact sent the usual, strange feedback through her system. Luckily, it wasn't much. It happened with everything she touched, but some things carried more meaning than others, and some things she had learned to filter over the years. The small stuff was manageable, but could still be annoying.

She lifted it to her mouth, carefully, and took a sip just to spite him and prove she could do it. "There. See?!"

        "I'm glad you can manage," Dirk told Briar, again with complete sincerity. He began to move away from her to serve himself some of the stew. He pulled another bowl from his haversack, then a plate, a fork, a spoon, a carving knife, some linen napkins. He set about serving himself some of everything. A jug of ale and a large mug came out next. It was too many things to have been drawn from such a small pack, so the magic was obvious. Dirk filled the mug to the brim before taking a long pull from the drink.
        "Would you like some ale?" he offered Briar, and he pulled another mug from the sack. "I have drinking straws."

This was going to be excruciating.

Was he mocking her?! Or was he serious?! No, no one could be that dumb, he had to be mocking her, that had to be sarcasm and--

Hold up a tick.

Where was all that shit coming from?

She watched as he pulled way more out of that sack than he should have physically been able to, and it sparked her curiosity. She'd heard of such items before, and though she'd come across many fantastical enchanted items, she'd never seen one of those in the flesh. "Yeah, yeah, I'll take some ale, I'm going to need to get wasted. Hey, Dick, what's with the bag?"

        "My haversack?" Dirk asked as he poured ale into the mug. He pulled out a long metal drinking straw and put it in the beverage. Then he reached into the haversack and pulled out wooden box that unfolded into a small table. He set it next to Briar and put the mug on it. "It was a gift from my mentor," he told her, "it has everything I could ever want or need inside." He slung it back over his shoulder, under the cloak he was still wearing, before sitting down to eat the food he'd served himself.
        "Don't worry about how much you drink," Dirk told Briar, "I could serve enough alcohol to inebriate all of Adela and not run out."

"Does it, now."

Yeah, Briar was getting that bag. Once she was strong enough to get away from good ol' Dick here, she was definitely not going to leave empty handed.

She leaned down and took a long sip from the straw, so she didn't have to put the soup bowl down. "Anyway, heh, you act like I'm worried. I'm not worried about putting you out, Dick," she said, and then took another drink of soup broth. "You owe it to me for the mess you got me in."

        "Your poor choices and their result are not my responsibility," Dirk said to Briar, "and my name is Dirk, not Dick. Dick is short for Richard, where as my name needs no shortening." He was oblivious to the fact that Briar was trying to insult him. Best thing about cultural ignorance is that insults tend to not work on you. Even though his body didn't require food, with the magic of his ring keeping him sustained, Dirk continued eating.
        He must have been a sight, sitting in his full body black dragon-leather armor, boots, cloak, and weapons all still in place. Next to the fire, on a not cold evening, others would have been sweating. Hood down, cloth mask hanging around his neck, Dirk sat eating, watching the flames dance, though he was fully aware of his surroundings. His corn silk hair swayed gently with the movements he made and the languid breezes that cut through the forest.
        "Most would say I owe you a swift death, and nothing more. I will give you courtesy, but no more than anyone deserves."

Briar laughed at that, then grimaced because it hurt her head and sent some of her soup sloshing. "Dick's also a name for penis, of which I'm sure yours is also short," she snickered, and finished off the soup broth, leaving behind the meat and things. She shook the bowl a little to bring those things closer to the rim, so she could pop them in her mouth.

Chewing, she eyed Dirk. "And my 'poor choices' weren't your responsibility until you went and butt in! If you'd just sod off like you should have, we wouldn't be here now! But who decided to make it their responsibility? Oh, that's right, you!"

        "Justice," Dirk said with a hard tone, "is everyone's responsibility." He put the end of a quail leg in his mouth and pulled off most of the meat. The sauce was delicious. "And what does the size of my genitals have to do with anything?" he asked Briar, as he continued to chew.

"Blah blah, justice, blah blah, responsibility. Yeah, yeah, whatever. For all you know, Lil' Dicky, that noble asshole beats his wife and whips his slaves. Maybe I was serving him justice! And you just barreled right in all--" Briar snorted, grinning, "--half-cocked and fucked it all up and interfered with my justice-y responsibilities. Good going, Dick. Good going."

        Dirk took a moment to meditate and recall exactly what he heard Briar say to her victim. Then, in a surprisingly accurate impersonation he quoted her. "So why don't you just go ahead hand over all your jewels and rings before I cut them off your pretty little fingers, hm? And tell me where you keep your money while you're at it. I know you're not wearing everything you have." He turned from his plate to face Briar directly. "Should I continue to the part about hidden compartments?" he asked her frankly. "Should I also point out how you assaulted the innocent guards?"
        Briar's disregard for justice didn't surprise Dirk. It was a fairly common outlook in this world. Take what you want, when you want, by any means, and care not for those you hurt. It was an unfortunate reality that he did his best to battle whenever he could. This woman seemed like a good cause. If he could fix someone like her, perhaps there was hope for the world.

Briar startled at his impersonation, because it was a dead ringer for what she said--and because she hadn't realized how long he'd been listening in before he showed up. But then she scoffed and shoveled more of the meat and veggies in her mouth, chewing and swallowing them before setting the bowl gently aside.

"So what? Doesn't prove he doesn't beat his wife and whip his slaves. What's your fucking point? The guy probably needed a good scare to humble and humiliate him! And it's not like he needed those riches. He's a noble! He's already got more than he needs. Really, I got the shit end of this stick! Those guards just got a sore head, the noble just got a a scare, but me? I got all stabbed up!"

She glowered at Dirk. "You owe me an apology, actually."

        "I'm sorry you were too stubborn to surrender to a superior combatant that was willing to show mercy," Dirk said. He was beginning to catch on to the sour sarcasm of this thief. Her attitude did not bother him, but he could match her at this game. He had traveled with enough caravans to learn how to 'talk shit'. "If you don't want to lose, get better."

"What? Fuck you! Superior my left ass cheek! You just got lucky, you prick."

Briar tossed her head, the hoops dangling from the ends of her hair clinking together. "I wasn't fresh when you fought me. I'd already taken out two armed guards. Two armed guards tasked with the important mission of protecting a noblemen. They weren't amateurs! What, you think you're so great you beat someone who was already tired? Ha. HAH. You're delusional."

        "I don't require sleep, or food," Dirk retorted, "I don't get tired. You could never have won. I could plainly see that you have technical skill, but lack the wisdom and experience of real combat. If I had not held back from the start, you would have been dead in seconds. As such an amateur, you need to learn a bit of humility. Hubris is for those with real talent." This girl, and that's what Briar was, if measured by the tantrums she threw, was obviously filled with false pride. He never imagined getting pleasure from cutting the legs out from under someone, but it felt good to tell her how it was.
        "If we ever truly cross blades again, do not expect mercy."

Briar regarded Dirk a long moment, and then said, eyes slightly narrowed, "So what you're saying is you were cheating, since you never get tired or need sleep or whatever."

        "Does a bird cheat at flying, when it has wings and a fish does not?" Dirk asked Briar. "Does a fish cheat with it's gills allowing it to swim deep under water, when a bird must come back for air?" It seemed a simple thing to him. "Some of us are made for some things, others are not. Perhaps you were not meant to fight with a sword. Perhaps you should give up your life of crime," he told her plainly, "farmers can afford to be slow and dull where soldiers must be sharp."

Wham! In one hard, quick, and ill-thought out move, Briar kicked over the table and sent her ale flying at Dirk and splashing all over him.

Of course, it was an ill-thought out move because no sooner had she done it when she cried out in agony as it sent pain lacing from her foot clear up her leg.

        Save his food or save his armor, the question was easily answered. Dirk deflected the ale away from his plate but it of course sloshed all over him. He had no sympathy for the pain Briar felt. He stood, and set aside his dinner then pulled out his magic decanter. He walked away from the camp and activated its water, allowing it to poor over himself to remove the sticky ale. It only took a minute to do so and he walked back over to the camp. He stood the table, put the mug and straw on top of it, and then used the decanter to thin the ale that was on the stone slab.
        "That was quite an intelligent decision," Dirk said to Briar, now fully into the sarcasm. "I can already tell that you put lots of thought into all your choices."

Briar was curled up, cursing colorfully as she clutched at her bandaged foot--though she couldn't really clutch at it, considering the state of her hands. "Fuck off," she growled between grit teeth, and when the throbbing pain abated, she took a deep breath and sat back. "It felt good in the moment. Except when it didn't."

        Dirk was struck by a tiny twinge of sympathy at his guests continuing pain. He reached into his haversack and pulled out a a steel flask. He walked over to Briar and dropped it onto the cot beside her.
        "That is very strong," he told her, "it tastes awful, and it burns like Uffern, but it'll dull the pain, as well as your senses." Noticing the drips of water that fell on the bedroll, Dirk walked over to the rack that held Briars clothing. He stood by the fire, slowly and methodically removing his armor and such, hanging them on the rack. He didn't have any real personal boundaries, so he was fully prepared to disrobe completely, exposing his young, tightly muscled body, in sight of Briar.

Taking up the flask, and unstopping it carefully with stiff fingers, Briar had been about to take a long swallow of the stuff when Dirk began to disrobe.

She froze, her eyebrows rising clear to her hairline.

"Uh, excuse me but what the fuck are you doing?"

        "Undressing," Dirk said to Briar without pausing in his actions, "you covered me in ale that I rinsed away. I would however, prefer not to sit in wet armor, so I will let it dry while I continue to eat." He didn't see why she had such a sour tone. What was wrong with wanting to get dry?
        "What is your complaint this time?" He did not hesitate while he waited for her answer. Armor, cloak, and boots off, weapons at his feet, he was now standing in clothing, made of a thin, beige fabric. The shirt, a short sleeved tunic, laced up the sternum to his clavicle, was snug against his muscled chest and biceps. The rest of his arm, up to a few inches from his wrist were wrapped in strips of the same fabric. His short pants, had a drawstring at the waist, and also tied a few inches below his knees. The rest of his legs and his feet were wrapped in the same strips of fabric as his arms, leaving only his toes exposed. Wet, as they were, the fabric of his garments clung to him completely, in a not unattractive way. It was also apparent, with the way the pants clung to him, that he was amply endowed, so Briars taunts were unfounded.
        A quick stretch was all the pause he gave before he moved to begin unwrapping his hands. He had no plan to stop.

Just because Briar couldn't stand touch didn't mean she wasn't blind, or that she couldn't appreciate an attractive body when it was right in front of her, or that she couldn't experience desire. If anything, that only made things all the more frustrating for her, and awkward as fuck.

Especially as a quick glance down confirmed that her half-cocked taunts had been...inaccurate.

She snapped her eyes back up, her face growing hotter.

"Wow, you're a fucking genius!" she snapped. "I had no idea! Yeah, duh, I can see what you're doing, I'm questioning why you're doing it here! Seriously, what the fuck. Are you--are you fully undressing? Did this shit soak through your smallclothes?! I don't know if you think it's only fair I see you naked 'cause you saw me but I'm okay with not seeing this, alright?!"

        "The word you used was what," Dirk said. He was finishing unwrapping his hands and now pulling off the wet tunic. "I did however cover the why in my answer as well." He hung the shirt next to Briar's, and the thin fabric began steaming from the drying process. "As for why here. The rack is here, as is the fire. Seems plain to me." He stood on one foot unwrapping the other, with perfect balance. "If seeing me nude causes you some sort of distress, you can turn away, or close your eyes," he told her, "I'm not some exotic creature from another world. I'm a human man. It can't be so horrible or terrifying to behold."

Oh no, he had a nice body. Oh no. Of course she had realized before that he was attractive, and that he looked around her age, but she had been far too pissed at him to appreciate it--and still was pissed at him, but she could appreciate it.

She brought a hand to her face, pressing her bandaged palm to her eyes. "It's not that it's terrifying, fucker. Quite the opposite! Unless you're hairy and bulging and infested with disease down there! But amazing fact here, not everyone wants to see your parts flopping around!"

Shifting where she sat, she adjusted her robe to better cover her legs, suddenly acutely aware that she'd exposed the one well past the knee when she'd kicked the table over. And despite all her kvetching, she also wasn't looking away.

        Amazingly, the idea of nudity being private had not quite settled into Dirk's head. He had traveled with plenty of people, and when nudity did come up, they had somewhat similar reactions to Briars.It just didn't seem to sink in. There was no stigma about it for him, so when he was finished unwrapping his feet, he untied his wet pants, and peeled them away from his body. He stood completely naked in front of the rack, adjusting his clothes, and Briars, to make sure that everything was getting enough heat from the fire, and nothing would fall off. He poured a little water out of his boots, and then put them upside down on sticks to let them drain completely. It would do little good to put dry feet into wet boots.
        The entire process had him turning and bending in ways that exposed his well muscled back and buttocks to Briar. He was oblivious to the fact that she was peeking at him, and wouldn't have cared anyway. When he was sure everything would dry thoroughly, he slung his kukri over his shoulder and carried his haversack to a spot on the stone that was not wet from Briars attack, or from drying clothing. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a soft blanket, wrapped it around his waist, and sat back down to enjoy what was left on his plate.
        "I don't wish to sit on the hard stone without protection from abrasions, so you can rest easy," He finished the piece of fish on his plate, and started in on the remaining vegetables. "If you prefer, I will keep the blanket wrapped around me until my clothes are dry. I don't understand the issue with nudity. They're just bodies. They're all basically the same, though I do see that some are more appealing than others."

Why did the asshole have to have a good ass?

Briar knew she should look away. She'd been complaining about this, so it was hypocritical to watch--buuut she was a hypocrite and couldn't find it in herself to care! If he was going to do this anyway, she may as well get an eyeful so whatever! Still, it was awkward as fuck. He had a nice body. Really attractive. Too bad she hated him!

When he turned around, though, and she got a full frontal view, she shot a quick glance down out of curiosity, and then jerked her eyes away. Wow, yeah, okay, no wonder her taunts didn't affect him. Still, this was weird. And why the hell was he acting so nonchalant about this? Gods, he was infuriating! And he was sure taking his sweet ass time!

It was a relief when he wrapped the blanket around him, because it took a serious effort to keep her eyes up. It wasn't like she hung around a lot of naked people, much less naked men, and his...parts...were kind of distracting. Because they were just kind of out there! With the distraction put away, so to speak, she relaxed again, and felt her annoyance rising because while her face was quite hot, Dirk was still doing the oblivious act.

Briar's expression went flat. "...Basically the same. Are you fucking with me. What, did no one ever give you the birds and the bees talk or what? How old are you again?"

        "I am physically around twenty summers in age," Dirk told Briar, "but my mentor kept me this age for many earth years, so I've been alive for more than sixty summers." That would likely sound like madness to Briar, but to Dirk it was the normal way of things. His was an exotic and bizarre life.

Briar stared at him. Then she shook her head, which made the world spin dizzily. "Did you drug me or something? You must have drugged me." Because surely she wasn't hearing this right.

        "Drugged you?" Dirk asked, unsure what Briar meant. "I gave you a sedative to help you sleep earlier. That alcohol I gave you is very strong, as I warned you. Are you feeling unwell?"

"No, no, no! I'm as well as I could be after getting stabbed six times. I just mean either I'm drugged or you're drugged with a story like that. That doesn't make a lick of sense, twenty years old but older than sixty. Do you even hear yourself talk?"

Finally, Briar took a sip of the alcohol he'd given her, and promptly choked, because it did burn like hell. She hadn't gotten a chance to drink it earlier, because he'd started stripping down and she'd lost focus, but his words reminded her.

"Bloody eugh!"

        "I warned you," Dirk said when he noticed Briar nearly gagging on the swig she'd taken from the flask. He smirked to himself and took a drink of his own ale.
        "I'm not surprised you find it far fetched," Dirk said, continuing on the earlier topic, "most people react that way when they ask me questions about my past. My mentor told me that people would rarely believe, but that it was best to tell the truth as often as possible. Lies have their place, and earnest or casual conversations are not the place."

"Blah, blah, blah, boring shit," Briar yawned, and took another swig of the alcohol, more prepared this time. She didn't choke this time, because she took a little at a time--and because, she thought, she burned off her taste buds!

And maybe also because the stuff was going straight to her head, so she just wasn't registering its nastiness as much.

"So you're telling me you're some old guy in a young guy's body who goes romping around doing JUSTICE and shit and...I don't even get it. You're weird. Really weird. Are you like even aware of how weird you are? Probably not. They never are. Whooo, that alcohol shit's warm-making," she said, waving her hand by her face.

"So hey, Dick, what's the deal anyway? We just going to sit around and sing and camp fire songs until I'm better or something? Just a fun little camping trip? Like what are you even doing with me?"

        "We'll figure that out when the time comes," Dirk told Briar. He finished off his ale and then poured himself another. He got up and served some quail and fish onto his plate, then took it over and set it on the small table. He put the table back next to Briar again and pointed at the plate. "Eat more," he told her, "if you don't the medicine to speed the healing from weeks into days will leach away your life and you'll get physically ill."
        He moved back to the fire and lifted a grate above the flames. From his haversack he pulled a shallow iron pan. "How do you like your eggs?"

"Leech away my--are you fucking with me? Could this shit kill me? What the hell did you even give me?!" Briar exclaimed, but it was the incentive she needed, because she knew well enough not to mess with magic! Moving painfully, she took large bites of the fish.

Between bites she said, "Scrambled. Mixed with ham and cheese and potato, with pepper." She tasted some of the quail. "I wasn't joking about the camp fire songs, that's a thing we can do, Dick!"

        "Singing was not a part of my education," Dirk told Briar. "I was taught about music, I can play several instruments, I'm just not familiar with vocalization of songs." He moved to crack and scramble the quail eggs. "I have potato, cheese, and pepper, but there aren't any signs of boar in the area. So I won't be able to give you ham." He adjusted the blanket wrapped around his waste as he prepared to pour the now whipped eggs into the hot pan. It slipped a bit revealing the cleft of his buttocks before he could readjust it properly.
        "If you desire to sing, I am more than willing to play my violin for you, or perhaps you'd prefer the guitar."

Briar didn't miss that slip-up. She got a good peek at what was exposed of his ass, while slowly chewing a bite of quail. Nope. Just because she loathed him didn't mean she couldn't appreciate certain aesthetics. One didn't have to like the artist to enjoy the art!

"I was being facetious, genius," she said, and washed the quail down with another swig of that alcohol. Good stuff, that. She could no longer really feel the pain! Or...a lot of other things, actually. She let out a burp and set the stuff aside, then flopped back onto her back, because the world was getting weird and fuzzy, her body all warm with a nice buzz. Alright, so she was more than buzzed now.

"But sure, I can sing! I've got the voice of a motherfucking angel, let me tell you! Go on, then! Whip it out, Dick!" She paused, snorted, and then burst into laughter. "Whip it out, Dick. Hahaha. Whip out your dick? Pfffffff. Yeah, don't do that, not that it's not fabulous, but I meant your instrument. Like your violin or whatever, not your instrument. Fuck I crack myself up! Hah! Crack! Lot of that around here!"

        The word play, crude as it was, did not escape Dirk. He just didn't understand how it was humorous. He was lacking in that area. Humor had not been on the agenda for his training. Cooking had been though, and so the quail eggs, half the size of chicken eggs, were poured over chopped potatoes he hadn't used in the stew. He dusted the pan with ground pepper and mixed the eggs and potatoes together. Some vegetables that he had not used yet, and a dried clove of garlic that he fished out of his bag went in with it. Turning, and folding, and chopping the scramble, it cooked quickly over the fire. When it was finished he put crumbled goat cheese over the top of it and scooped most of it onto a plate for Briar.
        Standing over the fire as he cooked, without the elemental protection of his equipment, the heat had caused a light sheen of sweat across his muscled chest and arms. As he approached Briar with the plate of food, he glistened in the firelight, the cut of his muscular definition accentuated. "I hope it's to your liking", he said genuinely, as he placed the plate beside her. He turned from her without waiting for a response, returning to his spot. He took out his violin, and sat. "I can play one of the songs I've learned while traveling this land if you like."

Once again, Briar found herself briefly distracted by Dirk's glistening abs and pecs, and was keenly aware that he was wearing only a blanket, and that she was just in a silk robe. She picked at her eggs, getting out an, "Mhmmm!" when he said he hoped they were to her liking. They were, but she wasn't really thinking about the eggs when he asked that question, nor was she subtle about her observations.

It almost made her forget her irritation that he didn't even respond at all to her jokes! And those had been some damned good puns. Some people just didn't appreciate the effort that went into that.

She popped another chunk of egg into her mouth and waved her hand stiffly. "Yeah, go ahead. Diddle that fiddle," she said around her food, and snickered at her own joke.

        Dirk lifted the violin, put his chin on the rest, and brought his bow to the strings. The somewhat sad song became haunting when played by his deft hands. The violin sung out, and all the noises of the forest around them fell silent, as if even the creatures stopped to listen to the notes dancing in the air.

Dirk was midway through the song before Briar let out a loud yawn and said, "Well, shit, Dick, you trying to make me cry here? This shit is depressing. Don't you have anything livelier?"

Then she shoved another bite of eggs in her mouth.

        A pause and an impatient expression was all the reply Dirk gave before changing his tune. To acquiesce with Briar's request, Dirk played a drinking ditty he'd heard several times. It had crude lyrics, but he was not singing them. The tempo was upbeat, and somewhat intoxicating in nature. It was the kind of song that would get stuck in your head for days. He secretly hoped it would drive Briar mad.

"Now this is better. Why's this sound so familiar...?" Briar said, perking up as the music swelled within her. She bounced her leg to the beat, and if her hands weren't wrecked, she would have happily clapped along.

"Of course, it'd be even better if you didn't constantly look like you've sniffed spoiled milk. Smile, Dick! You're playing a happy song, not a fucking funeral dirge!"

        It might as well be a funeral dirge, as far as Dirk was concerned. The lifestyle it promoted surely led many a man to an early grave. Drinking and carousing, and sleeping with other mens' wives was not good for your health. But Briar's improved mood was a bit contagious and he couldn't help but smile a bit. He tapped his foot in time to the music, and when he'd played through all three verses, he moved into a song that he'd long forgotten.
        It was the first elven song he'd heard in a village he visited with Rit. It was even more fast paced than the one he'd just played, and was meant for an intricate dance to celebrate marriage. Rit had told him that elven music wasn't only magical because of the instruments they used, but that they wove magic into the original song, so that all who learned it and played it, would spread the magic. This song in particular encouraged happiness, feelings of fondness and love, cheerful giddiness, and a strong desire to propagate. Dirk didn't recall any of that at the moment, he only remembered that the song had made him feel very happy, and Briar seemed like she could use more happiness. It didn't even occur to him that the notes they were both hearing, were indeed, magical.

There came a certain point, during the new song, that Briar stopped bouncing along to the song.

Oh, she was still feeling far more cheerful now, her spirits lighter and not so bitter despite her injuries and situation--but that wasn't all. She was feeling oddly distracted, too, and no longer really paying attention to the song, though she was watching Dirk. Her head was slightly tilted as she studied him with a fresh sort of appreciation, her eyes following along the curves of his neck and shoulders, the lines of his collar bone, his toned chest and sculpted abs...

And lower, to the towel, which she knew was hiding something quite impressive, despite all the dick jokes she'd tossed his way. Her face heated at the thought as she recalled that he'd undressed her, and as she looked back up at his face, her eyes lingered a bit longer on his lips. They looked kissable, and she got tingles all over as she wondered what they'd feel like against her neck--

...What.

What the fuck?!

Briar's face flushed hot and she shook herself, sitting bolt upright. What the?! Where did that even come from?! She started to rake a hand through her hair but stopped short, since her hand was wounded, and instead let it fall back into her lap. Wow, Briar. Wow. Yeah, she'd realized he was attractive--sexy, even! Like, she wouldn't mind it if he wanted to throw her down and--

FOCUS!

        Dirk was pleased with the great improvement to Briars disposition. She was smiling, and bouncing to the song. This in turn caused him to him smile, and bounce along as he continued to play. The song also filled him with much more cheer, though he was less affected than Briar, since he was the one playing. He was so engrossed in working the bow across the strings at such a fast pace, that he didn't notice the change in Briars demeanor. Even if he had, he would have been oblivious to the way she was sizing him up. His experience with the opposite sex was fairly limited, and he lacked the social awareness to pick up on it.
        Though he didn't notice her attention, he was feeling a bit warm and fuzzy. He began wondering why he'd been so upset with Briar. She had a sharp tongue and was breaking the law when he'd met her, but she must have had some reason. No human is born evil. They would sort it all out. He was beginning to think he liked her. She was beautiful too. He hadn't lingered on her nude form, but now that he thought back on it, it was rather pleasant, and soft.
        What sort of strange thought was that? That hardly mattered to him. He did not judge others by their exterior. It had been lovely though. Like a flower is beautiful, so wash she. Perhaps she would be open to sharing a bath. Then he could see her nude body glistening with moisture, soap suds hiding parts of her from view, like the clouds obscure the sky.

Briar noticed Dirk looking at her then, and her face flushed red and she jerked her eyes away, suddenly struck by the thought of...what if he knew?! What if he knew what she was thinking?! What if he knew she was undressing him with her eyes?

...But also, would that be such a bad thing if he did know?

Yes, yes it would. Rein it in, Briar! Rein it the fuck in!

Feeling awkward in her silence, while her mind kept going to weird places, she cleared her throat.

"You know, you look pretty hot right now," she said before she could stop herself, putting into words what her brain was thinking, and her eyes went wide and her blush darkened. Shit. "Uh. Hold on. NOT what I meant to say! I meant to say, uh...you look...hot. As in temperature. Because we're by the fire and you're in a towel and your abs are all glisten--"

FUCK.

She was pretty sure her face was on fire. "You should probably take a break! Cool off! Yeah!"

        Dirk noticed his own warmth at Briar's mention of it. He didn't really feel he needed to cool off, but perhaps the suggestion was a proposition for what he'd been thinking. He stopped playing, and though the notes no longer drifted through the air, the magic would remain with them for a few hours. He set his instrument aside, almost losing his towel again, then turned back to Briar. Now that he was no longer so focused on playing, the magic effects took greater hold of him, and his skin flushed as his body responded.
        "That's not a bad suggestion," Dirk said in slightly less monotone than usual. "Not far from here is a rock-cut basin. We could share a bath? I can warm the water, and I have very nice soaps."

...Oh man.

"Uh. Yeah. Share a bath. Not a bad idea," Briar said, trying not to fumble over her words even as her face burned redder, because she'd been silently wanting the towel to fall.

Play it cool, Briar! PLAY. IT. COOL.

"Like, that'd probably be a good idea! I mean, of course it's a good idea, it was my idea, but yeah. A nice warm soak would probably soothe my injuries or something!"

Which was totally logical and made sense, and she did love long baths. So there.

"Not sure how I'm gonna get there, though. You did a bloody number on me." And yet, not even the anger over that took her attention away from his flushed, glistening body.

        Briar had not explained to Dirk that she didn't want to be touched, that skin contact would be difficult for her. He didn't know it when he shifted her suggestion into the idea of bathing. So her getting to the bath seemed of little difficulty.
        "I have ample strength to carry you," Dirk told her, flexing his exposed muscles in demonstration. It was a completely innocent act, and his lack of bluster was readily apparent. "I hope you do not think I would be so ungracious as to make a wounded friend walk. I would be more than happy to help you wash and redress your wounds as well. Really it would be my pleasure."
        What started out as simply being polite soon moved into the best effort Dirk had ever made at flirting, when he realized how Briar reacted to the intimacy of nudity. She had not been pleased, and so to her it was special. Or so he thought. They were now going to bathe, together. At least he was hoping so. Why was he feeling aroused? It was only slight, but it made him wonder, and he also liked it.

Wounded friend? For a moment, that sounded odd, and wrong--but the magic of the song was strong, and Briar brushed the thought away in favor of far more pleasant ideas.

Like his flexing muscles, and his offer of carrying her and washing her--whoa, wait!

Briar blinked, jolted from her fantasy briefly. One moment she had been imagining him lathering up her naked body while he, too, was naked, and how it would feel to be touched all over--and the next she was struck hard by a sickening, queasy sensation in the pit of her stomach as the logical side of her brain told her exactly how it would feel to be touched. Her eyes widened.

"Ah. Carrying me. About that." She looked down at the robe she wore and tugged it tighter around her. It covered her sufficiently from the neck down, so it might not be an issue? As long as there was a physical barrier preventing skin-on-skin contact, she would be okay--but that didn't solve the other issue, the part where she just wasn't used to being touched even through clothes because she instinctively avoided it. "I...I'll walk."

        "I really don't mind carrying you," Dirk reassured Briar. He began putting things back in his haversack, and then pulled out a ball of twine. He walked off into the woods without a word and tied the twine to a tree. He then walked in a large circle around their camp, wrapping the twine around each tree on his path. He finished, leaving a gap between the last tree and the first, then walked back and reached into his sack again pulling out a leather case. He walked back to the twine, and followed it along. As he did, he pulled little brass bells and copper charms from the case, and hung them on the twine as he went. Upon the two trees that acted as a passage between the barrier he'd created, Dirk drove in silver stakes. Once they were both in, they glowed for a moment and then became dull again. After a full circuit to check the charms, he returned, reached into the sack once more, and pulled out a small pouch. Dirk poured a bit of its contents into his hand, a fine black powder, and tossed it into the fire. The flames turned a pure white, and within the ring it was as bright as day, but the light did not seem to pass beyond the boundary he'd created.
        "Our camp is secure, if you're ready, I'd be happy to carry you now. It really would be my pleasure."

Briar had been about to say it wasn't really about him as far as this matter went--quite the opposite!--but then he went off to do his thing, and Briar's words died in her mouth. They suddenly didn't seem all that important, the issue suddenly feeling quite minor, as she watched Dirk move, his body glistening in the firelight and her hoping that towel would slip. She didn't even pay attention to what he was doing, though she was aware of it, and it became obvious shortly that it was some sort of magic ritual.

But that was boring at the moment. The nearly-naked man before her was far more intriguing.

When he returned, however, and once again brought up the whole him carrying her thing...

Hrm. Maybe it wouldn't be that big of a deal? She was covered, after all.

Briar pursed her lips in thought, but didn't think very long. What the hell? What was the worst that could happen?

"Sure," she said with a shrug she hoped was nonchalant, though her grin was quiiite eager. She didn't normally like to play the damsel, but was she really being a damsel when he was doing something she very much wanted? "Yeah, yeah, that sounds good, Dick. Just be careful, alright? Wounded lady and all, so be geeeentle." And she adjusted her robe carefully, making sure there was no skin exposed, even while her heart fluttered at the thought of being so close to him.

With their bodies pressed together...aw yes.

        Dirk readjusted his towel without modesty. He grabbed his haversack, slung it over his shoulder and approached Briar.
        "I will be as gentle as I can," he assured her. He patiently waited for her to prepare herself for the process of being carried.

When Briar was ready, she spread her arms wide and gave Dirk an expectant look, one eyebrow cocked and head tilted. "Ready to go, Dicky, if you're ready for me," she said, and couldn't help but waggle her eyebrows at him as she spoke.

        Dirk leaned in close to Briar, his face getting dangerously close to hers as he maneuvered to pick her up. He had to slide a hand down her, brushing along her bottom, to make sure the fabric of the robe she wore did not get caught as he lifted her. It would not be good to drop her. The butt grave meant nothing to him. It was part of the process, and he had found that butts could be attractive, but he wasn't thinking of that now.
        Sweeping Briar up into his arms, like a man carries his wife over the threshold, Dirk handled her sleight weight easily. Not as easily perhaps as when he'd carried her over his shoulder like a sack of turnips, but this was much more gentle. The combination of robes and bandages kept Briar's skin from touching Dirk's, but without the knowledge of her tactile ability, he made no extra effort at not touching her. He carried her tenderly, simply because she was injured, and he found himself, oddly enough, aroused at the situation. A beautiful woman in a man's arms. He'd read a story recently that had rather intimate scenes that started similarly.
        "Is this okay," Dirk asked as he headed for the one gap in the magic ring he'd created.

Whoa, handsy! Briar jerked in surprise at the butt grope and felt her cheeks light up--and blushed even harder when she remembered she was naked beneath the robes and that he'd been the one to undress her. But she didn't have long to dwell on the thought when he scooped her up like a bride, and she gasped in surprised and started to throw an arm around his neck, but stopped and settled her hands on her lap instead. Less risk of accidental skin contact that way!

"Wha?" It took Briar a second to realize Dirk had spoken to her. She had been too distracted, occupied by thoughts concerning their proximity--and the simple fact that she'd never been carried like this before. After all, she couldn't be touched, and she lived a rough and tumble life besides; she wasn't used to being treated like a dainty thing, and this was so like some scene out of a torrid romance where the sweet maiden got swept aware by the shirtless, buff, glistening man...

Briar swallowed hard. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it's fine!" she said, and couldn't help but add with a snicker, "You're fine."

        As Dirk passed between the trees with the silver stakes, there was a physical change in the pressure of the atmosphere. The camp was sealed off magically from the outside world, no light, or smoke, or the smells of the cooking escaped the magic ring. Passing through the spikes had another effect on both Dirk and Briar. A gentle hum began in their ears, and as they moved further away, the hum gradually grew faint. When they sought the safety of the camp, the hum would guide them back, should they find themselves lost or separated.
        It was not a long walk to the small stream with the rock-cut basin. At some point the stream had probably been a more powerful river, but now it was shallow and flowed gently. That made the basin perfect for bathing. The water the passed across it and around it was only a few inches deep, but the basin was deep enough, with a shelf at the right height, that they could sit. Briar would be up to her chin, but at least she could relax.
        "Here we are," Dirk said to Briar, as he set her down gently, next to the stream. He then set down his kukri and haversack, then pulled from inside, the two stones that worked together to heat water. He tied a them together with a piece of twine, with a long tail that he staked to the ground by the stream. He tossed them into the basin, and they quickly went to work warming the water. He pulled the pieces for another small rack from the bag, and set it up in the stream, right next to the basin. On it, he hung several thick, fluffy, cotton towels. He could feel the sleight chill in the air, so he hung a large bead on the end of the rack. Inside the clear glass, a tiny fire spirit could be seen dancing, and the charm warmed the rack, and the towels.
        Dirk pulled a few more things from the sack and began setting them up. A few feet down stream of the basin, he put a post in the shore, that rose to his knee. He looped a thin, white silk rope through a ring at the top of it, and crossed the stream to put a matching post there as well. Rope secured, he walked back across hanging a few glss beads, similar to the one with the fire spirit, on the silk cord. Some contained air spirits, and they pulled the heat from the water, returning it to the temperature it was before it was heated in the basin. Others contained water spirits, and they would purify the water of the things added by Dirk. He and Briar could enjoy a hot bath, whithout damaging the balance of nature.
        The water was warming nicely, and steam was beginning to rise up into the air, but the flow of the water was gentle, and so within the basin, it had grown murky. He dropped a white marble into the water, and as it sank to the bottom, it pulled all the soil, and detritus into itself. The water was crystal clear now, and the marble, black. He dropped another magic stone into the basin, this one grey with large pores like holed cheese. In the water, it began to let out bubbles of warm air, at a steady stream. Last Dirk tossed a sphere of soap into the basin. It began to dissolve, filling the basin with soap bubbles that smelled faintly of vanilla. He moved his kukri into the shallow stream, within easy reach of the basin, and returned to Briar.
        "Would you like assistance with removing your bandages, and the robe," Dirk asked Briar.

By the time the bath was prepped and ready to go, Briar felt like her heart might burst from her chest from how hard it was beating. The little basin, and the area around it, was rather beautiful, and the sweet smell of soap and clean, hot water added an air of...well...romance to the scene. It was very much reminding her of those goddamned trash novels, indeed.

Of which she had read many.

What could she say? A girl who couldn't be touched by others had to find other ways to, ah, take care of certain things.

Briar was quite red by the time Dirk had finished setting up, partly from watching him--he was half naked!--and the wandering thoughts that induced, and partly from the rising steam.

But yeah, mostly from watching him. And pondering things.

So many things.

Needless to say, her mind had traveled some interesting places by the time he spoke to her, and she quite visibly jumped at his words--and blushed quite vividly, in a way that had little to do with the heat. Remove the robe?! Him! Help her?!

Sweetbabygods.

"Ya mean you?" she blurted, grabbing at her robe--and wincing when the clenching of her hand sent pain shooting through it. She gasped and let go, letting her hand drop back into her lap even as her heart leaped straight into her throat even as heat tingled in her core. Him? Undressing her? Oh man oh man oh man...it was one thing when she was unconscious, another when she was awake to experience it.

She swallowed hard, and jerked her eyes back up to his face when they started to dip down to his hips. Not that his face was any better; it was a damned handsome face, and the light played softly over the angles of his nose and jaw, highlighting those beautiful features all the more. She fidgeted, shifting a little where she sat. Jeez, Briar. What did you expect when he said bath? Of course bathing meant getting naked!

"Oh, er, um..." She reached again and plucked at the robe, experimentally flexing her hands and grimacing as her wounds stretched painfully. "...Sure? I mean, like, I've got fucking holes in my hands, I'll remind you! Which you put there. I swear to gods there better not be any permanent damage!"

But despite her words, she was still blushing hotly, and her eyes still kept dipping lower.

        Dirk knelt beside Briar, reaching for her foot. His hands were cold from the water, so he used her robe to lift the limb and protect it from his chilled touch. He ever so gently, untucked the end of the bandage from itself. He slowly unwound it from her foot, and when he was done, placed her foot on the ground. He had somehow avoided touching her skin, though he had no idea what touching Briar would cause, or that he should avoid it. He then repeated the action with her other foot.
        "I'm going to move you to the basin now," Dirk told Briar, as he stood, scooping her up as he had done before. He let his wrap fall away as he did so, and when he set Briar down, sitting in the now pleasantly warm water with her feet in the basin, heedless of getting the robe wet, he stood before her nude. He stepped into the Basin, sliding under the slightly sudsy water, and came up just in front of her. Dirk gently spread Briars legs, the robe again blocking skin on skin contact, and stood between them. Chest gleaming wet in the moonlight, he reached for her hand.
        The robe was meant for him, and so the sleeves covered Briars hands easily. Dirk gently pushed the sleeve up, holding it back with one hand, while he undid the bandage as he had on her feet. Then he removed the last bandage from her other hand, and as he set it aside, he reached to untie her robe.

Oh sweet horse lords above...

Somehow, the bastard made removing goddamned bandages about the most intimate thing a person had ever done for her. Briar held stock still has he unwrapped her feet, heart beating fast and breath held, and somewhere in the back of her mind her brain shouted a warning, that this way lie danger, and Dirk was just a careless brush away from touching bare skin.

Maybe she should say something...?

But she grit her teeth and held it in. Hell fucking no. She could bear a brief touch, and let him think her flinching was just because she disliked strange contact--and yet, part of her didn't like the idea of him thinking she didn't like it. But more importantly, her ability was a strength and a vulnerability and she didn't want it to be known and exploited and--

She bit her lip, bracing for contact, but he somehow managed to keep the robe between them. Then she was in his arms again, and soon the water was warm around her aching feet, soothing away the pain. She grimaced briefly, toes curling as she adjusted to the heat, and then relaxed again with a slow sigh out her nose.

That relaxation didn't last long.

Because that was when she drew her attention from the water to Dirk himself, and her breatg caught anew when...oh jeez fuck...

He was totally naked.

Briar's eyes went wide and her face turned an impossible shade of red as, of course, the first thing she did was glance down and...and...

Her belly fluttered and she gulped down a breath, then another as he parted her legs and slipped between them. Even though the robe still separated them, even though she knew this was a goddamned chaste bath, even though she knew it was impossible and that he was an utter stranger and her CAPTOR above all...her mind still shot to more salacious places even as he unwrapped her hands, which were trembling the barest amount with fresh nerves. Did he...did he realize how bad this looked right now?

And then he reached for the robe.

"Oh, whoa!" she gasped before she could help it, hands shooting up to grab his--but she stopped short, remembering her bare skjn and injuries, and let them hover there instead. "Oh, uh, heh, sorry. Er. Just, y'know."

She dropped a look down to his hips. "Little awkward! This position. Er, your...I mean, where you're standing, you know, since we're both gonna be naked and--I mean, not that I think it's weird! It's just a bath and whatever, I just mean, if anyone saw this, they'd probably think weird stuff which is pretty funny, amirite? Uh. Not that...anyone would be...watching us? Creepers. Eh heh..."

Shit.

        Dirk was a bit oblivious to the situation, or what it looked like. Briar was getting a bit flustered, and he was unsure as to why. He didn't wish to offend, or object to her feelings, so he placed his hands on the knees of the quickly wicking robe and pushed himself away from the blushing Briar.
        Dirk's experience with the opposite sex had been very limited. Rit, for all his training and teaching of the boy, had been rather dry and clinical in his sexual education. He was well versed in biology, and had a better understanding of the anatomy of most creatures living on the planet, than science would discover for hundreds of years. That knowledge did little for understanding sexual tension. He knew how procreation was done, he had just not experienced the pleasures, yet.
        "I'm sorry Briar," Dirk said, sounding a bit less monotone than usual. "I didn't mean to over step." For a reason he didn't understand, he felt disappointed that she had stopped him from undressing her.

Oh gods! Somehow, having him apologize like she was a shirking damsel was even worse--perhaps because it meant her nervousness was obvious, and she absolutely hated exposing her vulnerabilities. She was Briar! Bold, brave, and fearless!

"Oh, pshhht, whatever!" she said with a roll of her eyes, even as she released a slow, relieved breath out through her nose when he backed away. She shifted her legs closed. Ahem. "I told you you could help me, dummy. I just wasn't expecting you to go diving between my legs. Little eager there, eh, Little Dicky? I would be too if I were you. I'm fucking gorgeous." And she waggled her eyebrows at him, bolder now that there was more distance between them.

Though the warm water was helping little when it came to cooling her head--along with the strange sense of disappointment because he had stopped. What the hell?

"It's not like I care, anyway," she said with a flick of her hair. "I mean, you saw me fucking naked already. It's just bodies, anyway, so like who cares? It's just a bath!"

And yet, for all her bluster, she was still no closer to undressing.

        Briar's jab, and the mention of being between her legs, clued Dirk into what he had been oblivious to. Procreation often happened with a man between a woman's legs. Though in some of the stories he'd heard, and in lewd songs, there were more creative ways for the act of sex to be performed.
        Briar's reactions took on all new meaning now. Dirk was beginning to learn what sex meant to people. It was more than just procreation to perpetuate genetics with a favorable mate. It was pleasurable, and connected to all kinds of emotions. He was curious about it, but had no experience. It wasn't something that had come up in his travels as a guide and bodyguard. This was not the time to think about that though.
        Briar was still in her robe, and she had just mentioned him helping her undress. Dirk could tell that she was having mixed feelings about getting naked, she was overselling the not caring. He did want to help her bathe though, and she would need to be nude for that. He stepped forward, sure to move beside her, rather than between her legs. He reached for the knot that held the robe shut.
        "Perhaps I can at least undo your tie," Dirk said, keeping his eyes on her as he worked his fingers on the cloth. "I wouldn't want you to open the stitches I put in your hands."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to open the stitches you put in my hands from the holes you put in my hands, either!" Briar said, going stock still as he undid the knot. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, her pulse going crazy yet again at the thought of being naked--with him! Both of them naked together. In the water.

Ohgodsohgodsohgods...

Just be chill, Briar! Be calm! Cool! Collected! You got this!

The knot came undone, and Briar's face reddened, but she knew if she stopped now, her bluffing and feigned nonchalance would be for nothing. Plus it would be stupid as hell. She'd wanted this! Screw cold feet! With another gulp, she shrugged her shoulders and let the robe fall away, pooling around her waist and baring smooth brown skin covered in filigree-like, rust colored tattoos. They even went to the tops of her feet, though Dirk would have seen them all already, including the eyes inked into her palms.

And then she stared pointedly at Dirk's face, because looking elsewhere was dangerous with his body all glistening and muscley and naked and...stuff. Like shit. That's what she got for making fun of his dick before she saw it, damn...

She cleared her throat. "So, yay! Naked bathing party times. This is totally normal, for a guy to bathe a woman. Platonically. Naked. Like I hear some places they have big ol' bathing houses where everyone goes and there's totally no kinky orgy shit going on there, nosiree." Her shoulders twitched as she fought the urge to cover herself, forcing herself to keep her arms down and back straight. "Fun stuff! Totally natural. Right-o! Watch out, will ya?"

And, needing to be under the steamy, obscuring water NOW, she shuffled forward awkwardly and splashed down into the water, letting it rush up to her chin.

Dirk found himself delighted to look upon Briar's nude body once more. Perhaps these past months amongst mortals was having an affect on him. He found that his body was also responding to her nudity, and perhaps his thoughts of procreation as well, as he began to feel aroused, and was getting an erection. The bubbles and the suds, hid that fact from Briar, but Dirk felt no shame in it regardless. It was a natural thing.
        Dirk was again feeling disappointed as Briar sank beneath the water. She apparently sat on the rock shelf that went around the basin, as the water was to her chin. That increased his desire to see her, and for some reason, to touch her. He needed an excuse to do so.
        Dirk stepped up on the shelf, and out of the water, again exposing his nudity to Briar. This time however, he had a partial erection, and it was in full view. He moved to his haversack, unaware of the show he was giving his companion, reached inside, and pulled out a pair of gloves. They were a coarse material, and he slipped them on as he returned to the warmth of the basin.
        "Would you like me to scrub you with these," Dirk asked, holding up his hands to show Briar the gloves. "They are rough enough to scrub away the dirt and grime with ease, while being soft enough not to hurt you."

...Uhhh.

Aaand he was out of the water again, with everything hanging out in full view. Including...um...

With a start, Briar snapped her eyes away from his dick (ohmygods is he getting a fucking hard-on are you KIDDING ME) and stared straight ahead at the water before her, her eyes wide, and slowly sank down deeper until the water covered her upper lip. Most uncomfortable bath EVER, made all the worse by the way her own blood heated and the warm tingle between her legs. She should not be having those sorts of feelings toward him! For so many reasons, not least of which because he was still probably gonna turn her into the authorities or something!

But there was no denying he was attractive. And it wasn't like she got naked with...oh...anyone? In fact, she had no idea what possessed her to bathe with him now, except that she couldn't do it alone and she'd been terribly tempted and oh fuck she was so goddamned stupid argh--

And then Dirk spoke, holding up those gloves, and her breath caught. She'd just figured she'd soak in the soapy water for a while and call it good. There was no way she could scrub herself right now, and no way he could--no way she'd let him--and yet...

A forbidden thrill went down her, a sort of boldness only heightened by the music's spell.

And yet, she'd gone all her life craving touch. Craving just simple human contact. Craving normalcy. Even his little touches through the robe as he carried her or adjusted her had felt magical, because it was more than she ever got, and there was a deep sort of loneliness that came with that. Not to mention, you know, getting scrubbed by a pretty guy. It was enough to make her shiver. And here it was, her chance on a silver platter, a safe way to get that contact, even for just a moment.

The smart thing would be to say hell fucking no. Way too risky. Way too stupid. Uh uh, no way. But when she opened her mouth to say no, what tumbled out instead was a breathless, "What the fuck kinda question is that? Uh, yes."

So, so stupid. So dangerous. But gods, she wanted his hands on her.

        For some reason, Dirk found himself excited by Briar's consent to be scrubbed. He knew now that she felt somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of his genitalia near her, so as he moved in to scrub her he tried to position it away from her.
        "I'll start with your shoulders and arms," Dirk said reaching beneath the water, and gently taking Briar's wrist. He lifted her arm and began gently scrubbing, removing the dirt and grime that had accumulated  he traced the tattoo with his finger, down to her hand.
        Dirk had seen them when he undresses, stitched, and bandaged her, but he had not inspected them thoroughly. As he checked her stitches, and gently removed some old blood, he looked more closely at them. She would have the faintest of scars where he'd wounded her, but it would not greatly mar the ink on her skin.
        "If you don't mind my asking," Dirk began, "what is the significance of your marking?" As he waited for Briar's response, he moved to begin on her other arm, all the while keeping his eyes on hers.

Dirk moved in close, and Briar's belly tightened in anticipation--and more than a little nerves--because though she wanted the contact, it was new and different and sort of intimidating? Most times, she just found touch uncomfortable, even skin-crawling, even through her clothes. A casual pat on the shoulder by a stranger, a grab of her arm during a fight. Her body was so unused to contact that it hardly knew how to process it, didn't know what to do with the sensation, and most of the time if she was being touched, it was during a violent moment.

But as Dirk took her wrist and lifted her arm, and as his hand began to scrub, she shuddered, and despite the heat from the water her entire body broke out in goosebumps. She bit her lip and squirmed where she sat, her other hand twitching; it was an effort not to curl it up into a fist. She'd scrubbed herself down thousands of times, but it was leagues different having him do it to her, and despite the teeth digging into her lip, a soft little whimper escaped her as she shivered, electric chills racing up her arm and raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

She felt like she could just melt, and at the same time, she wanted to curl against him like a cat, complete with purring. For the moment, at least, her foul mouth was speechless, and her nervousness was forgotten from the sheer pleasure of it all.

Briar hardly heard Dirk when he spoke. She processed his words several long seconds later.

"Uh?" she blinked her eyes open, realizing then that they'd slid shut, and let out a heated breath. "Oh, uh. No significance. Just thought it was--ah..." Another shudder went through her, her eyes fluttering. "Just thought it was...neat," she said, lying through her teeth, before she bit her lip again.

        Dirk was glad to see Briar's obvious enjoyment of his scrubbing. It excited him further, to his bewilderment, and resulted in a full erection that he was careful to aim away from Briar. He wondered if it was true that the tattoos meant nothing. She seemed too deliberate to put something on her body, that would last forever, and had no significance. It was of little consequence to him though, so he let it go.
        As Dirk finished Briar's other arm, he put gentle pressure on her elbow, lifting her to stand, and spinning her around. She seemed almost as pliable as when she was unconscious, but was glad she did not crumple as she had then.
        With Briar's back toward him, he scrubbed the back of her neck, behind her ears, and forward on her shoulders to her clavicles. He then began scrubbing her back. As he moved down, he stopped just at the top of her butt. It would be an awkward angle to go down much further.
        "If you step up onto the ledge," Dirk told Briar, "I will continue down your buttocks and legs."

If this was heaven, she was okay with being dead.

It was difficult to stand. Not because of the injuries to the tops of her feet, but because she was trembling so much she felt her knees might buckle. The touches to her neck just about made her collapse, and then he was scrubbing her shoulders, her collarbone, and down her back in a way that made her spine arch. She shivered, glad her back was to him now, because she was pretty sure she was making a funny face right then and she couldn't be assed to care, it felt way too good to be legal.

Standing up as she was, the cooler outside air hit her upper body and made her skin prickle and nipples stand erect, though she hardly noticed then. Her eyes were closed, her muscles twitching whenever he hit a really good spot, and it was an effort to keep from wriggling too much--or moaning. Because that would have been awkward.

And then he stopped, and she let out a breath she'd been holding in a loud whoosh, before she flushed hot at his words.

...Well. Go big or go home.

Not daring to look back at him, because if she looked back at him she'd realize once more that they were naked together (which was somehow easier not to think about when she wasn't staring at him), she stepped gingerly up onto the ledge and winced as her feet ached and sore muscles protested. Her legs wobbled, weak from pleasure, and she pitched forward with a gasped curse and caught herself on the edge--thankfully having the presence of mind to land on her forearms instead of her palms.

Which effectively bent her over the rim instead.

Shitfuckballsshit!

Face on fire clear to her ears, she levered herself back up and stood, swayed once, and steadied her legs, her shoulders hunched and arms crossing over her chest. "Y'know, you're being awfully nice, Dick-Dirk. What's up with that, huh? You're treating me like a bloody princess right now--which, ain't complaining! I've got half a mind to think you're the real prisoner right now, doing my bidding. I like that. Never had a manservant before, I think I could get used to this," she babbled, trying to cover up her awkwardness with her usual bullshit.

        When Briar toppled forward, Dirk began to reach for her, but she caught herself well. In the fall, and his movement to forward, he got his first up close look at a woman's vulva. In that moment, it wasn't just an organ for reproduction, it was a beautiful woman's center of pleasure, and he found himself even more curious. She stood, the moment passed, and he brushed the thought aside.
        "I realize your actions were criminal," Dirk stated, "but I am responsible for your injuries. I take responsibility for my actions. Plus, I am actually enjoying this."
        Once Dirk realized Briar was steady, he finished the small of her back and moved to her butt. As he did each cheek, he gripped the opposite hip to prevent her from pitching forward. Beyond scrubbing, he gently massaged her buttocks, as he had her arms and shoulders. Not shy or aware of personal boundaries, he even made sure to scrub in the crack of her ass. He wanted to be thorough.
        Next Dirk moved to tending to Briar's legs. He started at the knee, scrubbing and massaging his way up. As finished each thigh, his scrubbing gloves just barely grazed against the edge of her vulva.
        "Turn and sit," Dirk gently commanded Briar. He took one of her hands and put light pressure on her hip to keep her steady as he helped her turn. He noticed her erect nipples, but didn't think it significant. He thought the contrast of temperatures in the air and water was the cause, as well as for her goosebumps.
        Once he had Briar sitting, Dirk lifted each foot in turn, inspecting the stitches, and gently cleaning them. He then scrubbed and massaged up her shins and calves, being gentle at the knee, as he knew it could be sensitive. Almost all of Briar had been scrubbed. All that remained, was her front.
        Dirk took one of Briar's hands again, intending to have her stand facing him. "Stand close to me," he told her, "and I will scrub your abdomen and chest for you."

"Enjoying this? Pffft, yeah, that was pretty obvious to me. Is this, like, the closest you've ever gotten to sex or something? First time you've ever touched a lady? Wouldn't surprise me! I mean, unless of course you like the menfolk and I ain't judging there, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say the wettest your dick's got is from the water right here and--"

Briar cut off, her usual insults fading away as his hands moved over her ass. Of course, she had no idea whether ever he'd gotten laid or not, and didn't really care--nor did she care that she was actually more talking about herself, because this was the most sexual thing she'd ever done in her life. Which was saying something, since this was totally platonic.

Totally, completely, one hundred percent platonic! Totally platonic, the way he was massaging her ass, in the way his hand gripped her hip, and the way heat was coiling between her thighs as she thought of him behind her and imagined his toned, wet body and kissable lips. She sucked in a shaky breath and rolled her eyes up to the sky above, nibbling her own lip and biting back the little sounds that wanted to escape as her skin sang, one part of her thinking maaaybe this was going a bit too far, and the other part curious to see just how far it could go.

Then his fingers dipped in her butt crack and she yelped in surprise and jumped, shooting him a wide-eyed look from over her shoulder.

"Whoa, geez, where you going there, huh? Spelunking? That ain't a cave, there's no diamonds in there, gods!" she barked, but he was already done and moving to her legs.

And her protests died.

Because oh, that felt dangerously good, and he could no doubt feel her trembling as he washed her. Her leg twitched and she let out a breathy laugh when he got behind her knee, which was surprisingly sensitive, and then as he moved up--shit. By then, she was wet from more than just water, every part of her on fire, and when his hands touched her thighs and just barely brushed against the edge of her vulva--

She couldn't quite keep that whimper in, and her belly fluttered when she realized she was disappointed that he'd stopped--and how fucking crazy was that? To think that about this guy, who was her enemy, who she'd literally just met and assaulted today...

And yet strangely, that was part of the thrill.

She was putty in his hands by the time she was seated and he was finished with her legs and feet, in the blissful throes of pure sensory overload so she couldn't even command her tongue to work, and when he lifted her to stand again, her knees buckled--

And, well, she wound up standing close to him, indeed, as she stumbled and fell right against his chest.

        Or she would have fallen against his chest, if Dirk didn't have lightning fast reflexes. The hand holding Briar's shifted to her wrist to avoid injuring her, while the other hand caught her by the shoulder, steadying her there.
        "Easy now," Dirk said as Briar got her balance back, "I don't want you to hurt yourself. I'll just scrub your abdomen and chest, and you can sit." He immediately put one hand behind her hip to steady her, as he pressed the other against her mon pubis. He slid his hand from there, across to her other hip, then brought the other hand forward. He moved up her abdomen, which was soft in comparison to his own muscular body.
        Dirk used a circular motion starting at Briar's navel, and moving outward. Once he'd scrubbed all of her stomach, he slid his hands up and down her sides. From under her arms he slid his hands up to her shoulders. Keeping a hold on one to support her, he scrubbed under her chin, and down her neck.
        Dirk had never touched a woman's breasts before, not really. Corpses, and unconscious people with wounds weren't the same. In those cases, he hadn't actually paid attention to the breasts. It had been clinical, uninteresting. These were breasts he wanted to touch, and his time amongst other people taught him that it was kind of a big deal. Well there was no time like the present.
       Dirk scrubbed her clavicles again and the top of her chest. Down the center of her breasts he slid his hand, and around the bottom of one breast. Then he went for it.
        It wasn't a sexual groping Dirk made. He slid his around the side of Briar's right breast, then across the top of it and down from the top across the front. He was only mildly surprised at its texture, but was more pleased than he expected. He followed up by matching his motion on the other side. Then he put a hand on each breast, and did his best to massage them, as he would his own pectorals.
        "I've never massaged breasts before," Dirk told Briar honestly. "Is this good," he asked, as he continued kneading.

Briar was vaguely aware of how terribly that could have ended, if she'd smacked chest to chest with him, skin to skin. It would have very quickly put an end to their...very platonic shenanigans. A little dazed as he caught her, she gulped down a breath and nodded, her tongue failing her. Overwhelming was putting it lightly, but it wasn't the bad sort of overwhelming; it was the I don't know what to even do with myself sort of overwhelming that had her every nerve singing with pleasure and heat.

She had never done anything remotely like this before. And never thought she would. And as his hand pressed dangerously close to a place that ached for another person's touch (though that would be a Bad Idea, with those coarse gloves he was wearing!), she gasped in shuddering breaths and sucked in her belly as his hand moved upward, higher and higher.

By that point, she had given up all pretenses of resistance. He scrubbed her neck and she tilted her head back, sighing and letting him support her, and then--

Oh shit.

Oh gods.

He was so close to her breasts, and the anticipation coiled tightly in her core as his touch felt like teasing and she forgot who they were entirely. He was no longer her enemy, not right then; he was just a man who she desperately wanted to touch her where no one else had, and she shivered as he circled one breast, and then caressed over it, and she could no longer control her little gasps and whines. Holyshiiiit, she hadn't realized she was so damned sensitive, but each brush over her hardened nipples had her legs shaking and hands trembling, her eyes clenched shut, her breathing shallower, but faster. She felt like she was burning up despite the chills racing over her skin and hot pressure building up deep between her legs, and then he started to not just caress, but to massage them, his fingers kneading and his palms brushing over her nipples with that strange, slightly coarse material.

He was asking her something, but she could hardly parse what he was saying, and certainly couldn't answer him except with a nod as it was all she could do to keep breathing, keep standing as she arched into his touch and let out breathy little whimpers, lewd sounds that would have left her mortified if she wasn't currently drowning in pure sensation that built and built until--

Oh.

Oh no.

"Ohfffffuu--" Briar managed to gasp, but it was too late to stop Dirk then. For Briar hardly realized what was happening before that building sensation crested and she let out a strangled moan as pleasure erupted, spreading out from her core in waves of heat that stole her breath away and left her shaking uncontrollably. Her knees buckled and she splashed back into the water, curling in on herself and gasping for air as her mind reeled because holy fuck what was THAT?!

        Dirk could tell Briar was enjoying his massage. More so even than he was enjoying giving it. The nod in confirmation and the whimpers and sighing was more than enough evidence. He was glad that he could make up for injuring her so thoroughly, even if he had simply been stopping her crime.
        From Briar's body language and sounds she was making, the intensity of her pleasure seemed to be building up a lot more than Dirk expected. He enjoyed a good massage, but Briar seemed to be experiencing something more intense than what he was accustomed to.
        Suddenly Briar was tensing up and spamming as she moaned. She fell away, splashing into the water, gasping for breath. Had she just...? Could it be? Dirk had heard lewd stories and songs, read some lewd stories as well. That seemed like an orgasm. He was a bit confused, but also thrilled at the experience.
        Did it really work like that for women? Was his massage really that good for her. Those thoughts raced through his mind at lightning speed, and then he realized she could drown in the basin if she didn't sit up. She was already in the shelf, so he stepped up to her.
        Dirk put a hand beneath Briar's chin, gently lifting it so she was no longer spluttered in the water. With his other hand he brushed her hair from her face, and he gave her one of his rare smiles.
        "I did not mean to do that to you," Dirk told Briar. "I hope you can forgive me. I only meant to massage you, not give you sexual pleasure. I know that's supposed to be something you have consent for." Briar's wet hair flopped back into her face, and as Dirk shifted to brush it out of her face he forgot to direct his erection away from her. So it happened, that their first skin to skin contact while Briar was conscious, came from Dirk's fully erect cock brushing against Briar's leg while she was still in the throws of an intense orgasm.

Briar was still trembling uncontrollably when Dirk lifted her chin, and she spat out a mouthful of water and sucked in a lungful of air. Oh gods. Oh gods oh gods oh GODS. Her entire body felt tense yet euphoric and, impossibly, extra sensitive as Dirk touched her. Almost hyper-sensitive to the point of being unpleasant, though she felt too weak and shivery to even pull away. All she could do was just sort of sit there, hunched in on herself as her muscles contracted and her body practically vibrated.

Had...had she just...?

...Could she just drown now...?

Somehow, she mustered up the courage to lift her eyes at Dirk's words, and the blood rushed to her face anew. Right before she glowered death at him, a difficult feat to muster when she was still riding out...that. She opened her mouth to snap something at him, but he brushed her hair from her face and her body jerked in pleasant shudders instead, her words coming out as a soft moan instead. Fuck him. Fuck this! ARGH!

"You know what--!" she finally got out, ready to launch into a tirade--

Except that was when something hard yet surprisingly soft brushed against her leg.

There was a brief second of confusion, then a split second of realization, as she froze with her mouth still shaping her next word.

And then it was all awfulness.

It was like an explosion in her skull. Colors, sounds, scenes, emotions. Dirk's confusion and arousal and earnestness and concern, scenes of strange places in the stars, countries she'd never heard of, creatures she'd never seen, metal shapes that flew in the sky and languages she didn't recognize. There was pain and yelling and an abused little boy, a strange man with different colored eyes, and scenes that whirled past her mind's eye faster than she could keep track in a confusing mess that blended and blurred until she didn't know where he ended and she began.

Her head screamed, or maybe that was her, as her skull felt tight, too tight, and her eyes rolled back and, with a sigh, she fell limp against Dirk.

        Had Briar just died? Had Dirk just killed her? What just happened? Why had she screamed? He lifted her up from the water, cradling her in his arms. He put his mouth close to hers and felt her ragged breathing. She was alive. Her pulse was racing, but slowing. He sat in the warm water, keeping her head above the water, waiting to see if her breathing would steady.
        In her comatose state, Briar was so peaceful. Dirk had enjoyed her expressions of enjoyment, as he had scrubbed and massaged her. This was almost better. She didn't curse or insult him when she was unconscious.
        As her breathing steadied, he lifted her up and laid her in the shallow stream. The water was still warm there as it flowed toward the magical boundary that would rob it of its heat. The cool air on her skin, though she was unconscious, gave her goosebumps, and made her nipples stand erect.
        That was all that was erect right now. Dirk was too concerned with Briar's well being to feel aroused. He removed the scrubbing gloves and set them aside. Then he stroked through Briar's hair, waiting for a sign that she would recover. If she didn't wake soon, he'd carry her back to the camp. For now, he just continued to stroke her hair, while using his other hand the pour warm water across her nude form.

It was a good five or ten minutes before Briar stirred again, her head heavy and eyes achy. Groggily, she cracked her eyes open with a soft groan, and reached up to rub at her face before the twinge in her hands reminded her of her stitches. She let her arm flop back into the water, then shivered powerfully when she felt gentle fingers running through her hair, those tingles traveling down her spine.

With a soft whimper, she jerked her head to the side, still hyper-sensitive and disoriented above all else, and blinked when she saw she was laying down. Shit. What the hell had even happened?

All she remembered was his caresses and...erm...then she'd sort of...um...

Had she...had she passed out from...that?

She bit her lip hard, mortification taking root, and crossed her arms over her chest. "What the fuck did you do to me."

        Dirk was happy to see Briar was rousing. He was very worried she'd been hurt. When she asked what he did to her, for a moment he didn't know what to say. Whatever made her scream couldn't have been him. He'd already stopped.
        "After your orgasm," Dirk began, "you were limp with euphoria, and about to swear at me, when you let out a blood curdling scream and passed out. I'm not sure what happened. Are you feeling okay? Should I carry you back to camp?"
        Dirk continued to stroke Briar's hair as he talked to her, and poured the warm water across her body with his cupped hand. His hands were conspicuously bare now. It is was only a matter of time before he inadvertently made skin contact with Briar again.

After her orgasm. Oh gee, thanks for the reminder of the thing she was trying not to remember!

Briar grimaced, shaking her head carefully. "No, no, I'm fucking dandy, I'm just--"

She froze, her eyes traveling to the movement of his hand--his bare hand, hovering so near her bare skin--and she jerked in alarm, her eyes going wide. "Where's your gloves?!" she blurted, shrinking back as much as she could, considering she was laying down and had nowhere to really go.

        "I took them off after I moved you." Dirk was really confused as to why the gloves were of any importance. Briar even seemed a bit afraid of him in that moment. He took his hands away from her, looking at them, wondering what was wrong with them that she wanted them covered. Then he moved to continue as he had been, a hand stroking her hair, while the other kept her warm.
        "Are you sure you're okay," he asked her. "You're behaving differently than your usual crass bravado."

"I said I'm fucking dandy which means I'm fucking dandy! Are we speaking the same language here or what? Ah!"

His hand was in her hair again, his other pouring water onto her far too close for comfort, and she twitched reflexively and jerked her head to the side to dislodge his hand. Hinting, apparently, wasn't doing it.  He was one careless brush away from her skin. "Just...just don't do that. With the touching. Don't touch me. Alright? We're done with the touchy thing."

Another twitch as she grit her teeth, knowing good and well her behavior probably looked very strange but not wanting to cave and confess the why.

        "You are a very confusing humanoid."
        Dirk's pleasant mood was quickly melting away. Briar's attitude shift was so drastic that he felt like he'd been slapped.
        "You seemed to quite enjoy my touching only a few minutes ago," Dirk said exasperated. He didn't understand why Briar was behaving this way. Perhaps he had crossed a line when he'd made her orgasm without consent. So now he was feeling guilty.
        "I suppose I should apologize further for making you orgasm without first getting your consent," Dirk said, as he stepped away from Briar. He grabbed his exfoliating gloves and slipped them back on.
        "I didn't know that's what I was doing," he explained, as he began scrubbing himself quickly and roughly. "I thought vaginal penetration or clitoral stimulation was required to achieve female orgasm."
        Dirk's scrubbing routine was quick, and efficient. He got every part of his body, missing not a single spot. He even scrubbed his face with the coarse gloves, and his genitals. Afterward, he fully submerged into the water, rubbing his hair to clean it. When he stood, the water cascaded through his hair, over his face, and down his tightly muscled chest.
        "I was going to offer you a much more thorough massage when we returned to camp."

"Oh my goooooods, shut uuuuup," Briar groaned, and slapped her hands to her burning face--which drew a sharp wince from her. How was it that his clinical speech made this like ten times more embarrassing?

"You talk like a fucking doctor. Look, I dunno what the shit happened back there or how or whatever because I wasn't expecting that either! Okay? It was kinda weird, alright! You gotta admit it was weird! So let's smile and nod and never discuss this again and--wait, what?"

Briar rolled over onto her side, squinting her eyes at him as the water rippled down the lines of his body. Stupid ass with his stupid handsome looks. Fucker.

"What do you mean more thorough? 'Cause you were pretty thorough. Spelunked my ass and everything."

        "I can't help my speech," Dirk said a bit sheepishly. "I was trained and taught by an all powerful immortal being for sixty years. I'm learning very quickly, that he is quite strange by the standards of mortals."
        Briar was returning to her normal bitchy self, and less the freaked out attitude. Her interest in Dirk's offer to massage her, seemed to perk her up as well. That was good. He preferred happy and bitchy to freaked out and bitchy.
        "I have extensive knowledge on how to massage," Dirk said matter-of-factly. "I can ease the tension in your body, and work out all your knotted muscles." He thought for a moment about her enjoyment of the orgasm she experienced, before adding, "I'm very well read in many topics. I believe I could help you achieve another climax if you like. Perhaps it will be less weird if you're expecting it?" Dirk hoped she'd agree. He wanted to experiment with her body. Reading was not the same as the real thing.

Briar choked out an incredulous laugh and flopped onto her back, her hands over her face. "Uh, nnnnnoooope! There you go again, saying those freakishly weird things! Word to the wise, offering to get me off is really really weird! I mean, like, thanks I think? Or something? But holy geez, man, you don't just come up to a girl like hey baby, I can make you climax. Unless you know her really well. Or like she's into that I guess. 'Cause that's creepy and she's just gonna run. Unless ya put knives in her feet or something."

But she was blushing again like mad, because she'd let him, a total fucking stranger and enemy, play with her freaking tits and...holy hells. It was embarrassing. Why the fuck had she let him go that far? And why was her heart beating so damned fast now?

The spell was starting to wear off, though she had never known she was bespelled. But not everything had been the spell's doing; it had only made her less inhibited, more daring, where she usually avoided contact at all costs. And dammit, she'd liked it, and her body craved more. And maybe that confused and frustrated her all the more, too.

"Especially sleazy since I'm like your prisoner and shit! What happens next, huh? Gonna turn me in and shit?" And she looked at him again, putting on her most pathetic expression. "You know they'll hang me, right?"

        "I don't intend to turn you over," Dirk told Briar without hesitation. "I apprehended you, and I feel in that capture you were punished enough. I do not intend to set you free either though." He pulled off his gloves and stepped out of the water.
        "I will endeavor to rehabilitate you Ms. Briar," Dirk told her as he tossed his gloves onto the heating rack. He then pulled the soaked robe from the water, rang it out, and hung it there as well. "Perhaps you can become a better person," he continued, reaching into his haversack as he passed it.
        Dirk had pulled a soft silk ribbon from his pack. He whispered to it and it went rigid. "Take this," he called to his strange new companion as he tossed the now stiff ribbon to Briar. He returned to the basin and sat in the warm water, waiting to see Briar's reaction to the device, or perhaps the device's reaction to Briar.
        "I will carry you back to the camp once the robe is dry," Dirk said as he settled into the water. "If you desire a massage, or anything else, I will tend to you. You're my responsibility now. Enjoy a soak until then."

Briar had managed to sit up, and she rolled her eyes so hard she about saw her brains. Rehabilitate her. Pshhh. As if.

"You say that like there's something wrong with me!" she said with a snort, though an intense wave of relief went through her at the news that he wasn't going to turn her in. Because with her record, she would be executed, and for all her blase behavior, the thought had been weighing heavy on her mind and frankly, scaring the shit out of her. She still had to get the hell out of here. The instant she was healed enough to run, she was running.

Rehabilitation her ass.

"I think I'm pretty fine just the way I am, just as the gods made me." And she rolled her eyes again at that, laughing at some sort of ironic inside joke with herself, before her eyes wandered again to him as he rose from the water and traipsed about butt naked. She swore he was doing that on purpose.

And it kept her quite thoroughly distracted until he tossed something at her, and Briar jumped, reached out of reflex, and caught it before she could register what she was doing--

Images bloomed in her mind, moving fast, like images flashing before the eyes of the dying. She was inside an ornate palace decorated in golds and reds, with snake-like dragons twining along the walls. She was no longer Briar, but Jiang, dressed in silk robes and carrying a paper lantern she'd lit with a thought. There was a festival outside, and the sky was full of lights as she stepped out onto a high balcony and sent the delicate paper lantern airborne to join the others already twinkling like a thousand stars.

And then she snapped back as something snapped around her neck, soft and silken like those robes and making her jump and gasp. She let out a yelp and grabbed at her throat, residual images still flickering behind her eyes, and found the ribbon was no longer in her hands, but around her neck, not tight enough to choke but also not budging as she pulled and pulled and--

"OW!"

A feeling, sharp like electricity, shocked through her fingers and neck and she dropped her hands. Then she grabbed at it again, a fresh wave of panic rising up in her chest, and again that sensation zapped through, forcing her to let go. She felt at it more gingerly then, traced the soft silk that, unbeknownst to her, was no longer black but purple, and then swung a wide-eyed look at Dirk.

"WHAT THE FUCK, DICK-HEAD!" she yelled, and struggled awkwardly onto her knees. "What IS this?! What the fuck are you doing, you asshole! GET IT OFF!"

        "Sit," Dirk commanded Briar, "and be silent." The collar faded back to black. Only he would know that Briar had magic. Though he didn't know what type of magic. She would be compelled to listen to his commands, or be shocked until she did so.
        "I will explain something to you now," Dirk began, all humor gone from his attitude. "I told you I was going to take responsibility for you, and so I will. With that collar around your neck," he pointed at Briar as he spoke, "you now belong to me. For all intents and purposes, you are my slave." Likely fear was blooming within her, terror at her loss of freedom.
        "Fear not, Ms Briar," Dirk held up a finger to reassure her, "I'm not going to do anything horrible to you. Not that you'd have any choice with that around your neck. There are many things it will forbid you from doing, and it understands intent. Yours, as well as mine. It knows when I give a command, or when what I say is optional. So I will give you three commands now that will stand always. Commit no act with criminal intent, do not try to escape or to abandon me, and do not ever lie to me. I will otherwise, treat you as I have since you awoke in my care. Now, let us discuss your magic."

"No, I will NOT be silent, you little shi--"

Zap! Briar yelped in pain and surprise and quickly plopped from her knees back onto her ass, a fresh wave of fear overtaking her. And it only grew when he said the most terrifying words she'd ever had directed at her:

You now belong to me. For all intents and purposes, you are my slave.

Her heart stopped, her blood turning to frost, her heart loud in her ears. One moment, it had been all fun and games and insults and orgasms, and the next, he was telling her she was his fucking slave. He'd turned the tables on her so suddenly her head was spinning and she swayed a little, dizzy, before she remembered to breathe, just breathe, even though a tremor had started in her hands and legs with each new word he spoke.

Fear not, her ass.

Her mouth was dry, and she had to swallow hard to work moisture back onto her tongue. "N...no. Wait. Dirk, c'mon," she managed to croak, her voice smaller than usual with genuine fear, the first real fear she'd shown. She grabbed again at the ribbon, but didn't try to tug on it. It was mostly just to confirm it was still there, that this was real. She shook her head.

"C'mon, I'm...I'm sorry, okay? Ow!" She winced at the shock, but pushed through it, chest rising and falling in quick, panicked breaths. "I was just messing with you, alright? I'm sorry I called you all those names and made fun of your prick--ow!--and I wasn't really gonna take that guy's fingers, I was just trying to scare him! I don't slice people up, that ain't me! Please, Dirk, c'mon, you made your point, I get it, haha! Super funny, super clever, you sure got me!"

Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck.

        Dirk was taught to be empathetic by Rit, and he felt sadness and regret at his actions. He knew it to be the right choice though, and so he pushed forward.
        "Those little shocks were for the lies," he told her. His eyes did not leave hers, as he spoke to her. "You are not sorry, and I am not kidding. You would run Briar, the first chance you saw an opportunity. This tenuous relationship comes at the necessity of my caring for your wounds. You feel no loyalty to me. I can't have you off committing crimes now that I've stopped you, and I don't have the time to watch you constantly. I will not have you tied up either. This is much less effort for a more complete result."
        Dirk let out a sigh. He did not care for this, he did not care for the collars. Those they liberated from the devices had been so happy to be free. It was only Rit's god like powers that had made it possible. The two collars Dirk had in his possession, he'd only kept because Rit had given him some cryptic clue that he'd need them. Perhaps this was why.
        "You will trust me," Dirk told Briar, "and you will get passed your fear. We are in this together. I will show you a better way to live, without crime as your means of survival. I will give you anything you need or desire that is not your freedom. That you will have to show me you are responsible enough to have."
        Dirk was feeling very tired, he really didn't like this, maybe it wasn't the right choice. For now, he felt it was.
        "Now Briar," he said commandingly, "tell me about your magic."

Like hell she would trust him!

Briar stared at him with wide eyes as he spoke, wrapping her arms around her chest and drawing her knees up as she shivered, and not from the cold.

Oh fuck. She was so goddamned stupid to have fallen for his humble, socially awkward justice doer act! Because what person ever enslaved another for benevolent reasons--especially when it was a man enslaving a woman. Bullshit. All of it was bullshit. The only part that didn't add up was why he would spring the collar on her now and not when she was unconscious--unless that was part of the game for her, earning her trust and then breaking it.

Her skin crawled at the thought, and the realization that she'd let him touch her. Her stomach twisted, her throat tightening until it was hard to breathe. A better way to live. Buuuuullshiiiit.

And then the dreaded question.

She bit her lip hard to keep the words in, shaking her head. "I-I'm not a mage--ah!" She jolted at the shock. "Fuck! Fuck you! Like hell am I gonna--!" Another shock, more painful than the last, had her tearing at the collar until she could take the pain no more.

Finally, panting and trembling, she let her shoulders slouch. "I...I can...I can see things with touch..."

        "Oh Briar," there was real sorrow in Dirk's voice. As she thrashed from the shocks at her lies, he got up, moving toward her. Almost he commanded the collar off of her, almost. This would be hard, but he must be strong.
        "If only I could convince you of how much this hurts me," Dirk sat next to Briar, looking in her eyes.
        "This situation is horrible," Dirk's voice was a bit shaky as he spoke, the guilt eating at him. "You will be fearful and hate me, until you realize how much you can actually trust me. This does fill me with nearly overwhelming guilt. If I hadn't realized now, that you wouldn't stay with me of your own free will, that you would run," he paused, steadying himself, drawing strength from his sense of justice. "I hadn't planned on using the Silk Prison on you. You would have run away Briar, and in your crimes, people would have been hurt. Perhaps even died. You could die. I won't let that happen."
        Dirk slipped back down into the water. He looked over at the robe and could see that not much steam rose from it. It was nearly dry. He could wrap Briar up and take her back to camp soon. Best to wrap this conversation up soon.
        "I'll carry you back to camp soon," Dirk informed his prisoner. "I'll give you anything you need tonight, and in the morning you'll have a decision to make. The decision," he said, turning to face Briar, is of whether to stay with me, in my care, with the collar on. Or," he paused to be sure she was paying attention, "to have the collar removed and be taken, and turned in to the local law enforcement, where according to you, you will die. I will wait to make sure your sentence is carried out, whatever it may be."
        "So you said you can see things by touch," Dirk changed the subject, not waiting to hear her choice. He feared she'd choose death over being a prisoner. "What sort of things? How does it work?"

Dirk sat next to her, still buck naked of freaking course, and Briar shrank back from him, scooting sideways to put more space between them and hugging herself tighter. Oh yes, he was so wounded here. So regretful. More bullshit. And he was so damned good at the hurt puppy act, too, when she was the true victim in all of this!

And then he informed her of her choice. Which didn't sound like a choice at all. Slavery and life, or freedom and death. She lost in both scenario.

She was barely listening at that point, zoning out as the weight of the situation pressed in on her, the silk around her neck feeling overly tight and claustrophobic. At least Dirk had returned to the water, though she remained tense all the same.

And then, more questions. Questions she almost missed in her panicked daze.

She kept her eyes down, focusing really hard on NOT having a fucking meltdown.

"How the fuck do you think? I touch something, I see shit," she spat, voice choked. "All sorts of things. Things the object experienced. Or person. Memories, scenes, emotions, whatever." She shuddered, feeling at her collar again, and snapped a look at Dirk. "Can you at least loosen this fucking thing before it cuts off my circulation?"

But it was hardly tight at all.

        Dirk wasn't sure what he expected. Of course Briar would behave this way. He'd just taken her freedom from her. Sure, he was stopping a criminal, and saving her from the gallows, but that was of little consequence to her.
        The way Briar shrank away from him, made Dirk feel even worse. He wanted to be able to trust her, to take off the collar and her not try to run. Then he had an idea.
        "I'll take it off," he told her, "as soon as I pack up. You can't try to escape. If you do, it goes back on. I'll grab you a towel."
        Dirk jumped out of the water and went to the rack. He threw one of the towels over his shoulders, the other he carried to Briar and gently draped it across her. They were very warm, and excellently absorbent.
        Dirk quickly went about packing all his things into his haversack and when he was done. Briar had not moved. He went over to her, dried her as best he could and scooped her into his arms, commanding her to hold still. He then tossed his towel to the ground and gently set her on it. He pulled the robe from the rack and dressed her. How he managed it without touching her was a miracle. Last the rack went in the sack, everything packed away, he returned to Briar.
        "I hope you're ready." He scooped her back up into his arms and as he did, he whispered to the the collar and it snaked off, wrapping around his own wrist.
        "You will not have to worry about that for now. If you try to flee it will go back on. I'll only make you wear it when I cannot watch over you, and otherwise I will remove it. Now let's talk more about your magic. It sounds interesting. Does it work on people? If I touch you, what happens?"

He'd...take it off?

Briar stayed perfectly still where he left her, hardly believing him and too numb to move. She felt frozen, trapped--and she couldn't really remember a moment she'd felt like that, not for years. Her freedom had been hard earned in the first place, but this was a different kind of entrapment entirely. It was actual fucking slavery. She'd been in many tight fixes, had several near-death experiences, but this left her utterly petrified, the complete and total lack of control and uncertainty, being at someone else's mercy.

The towel at least stopped some of her shivering, but when Dirk dried her, she cringed where before she might have basked in the contact. She was stiff as he lifted her, but she let him dress her; he'd commanded her to be still, and she prayed that if she cooperated here that maybe, maybe he'd really take the collar off. Then he was lifting her, gentle as ever--

And a chill went through her when the collar slid off, cool air hitting her neck, and she pressed a hand to her throat to check that it was gone and let out a shuddering sigh of relief at its absence. Thank gods. And all the more reason to get the hell out of here the first chance she got, because there was no way in heaven or earth that thing was touching her ever again.

His question made her twitch. "Don't touch me," she said tightly, hunkering down in his arms and pulling the robe up higher around her neck, as though to shield it. "'Cause yeah. It works on people, too. It's fucking awful. I feel what they feel and see their memories and shit and it's really intense and kills my head."

She took in a deep breath in and out, trying to calm down. The collar was gone, sure, but it would be a bit before she felt okay after a scare like that. "Listen, Dirk, uh...thanks. For taking that off. Seriously. Lesson learned, man, I get it, so let's like...never do that again. Alright?"

        Dirk smiled at Briar, glad she was in better spirits. What she said made little sense, but she seemed in a better mood so he wasn't about to complain.
        "Of course not," he said, "like I explained, you'll only wear the collar when I can't watch you. Like when I go to hunt. I don't sleep like other people. I have a magic ring that takes away the inconveniences of sleep." Dirk continued walking, haversack and kukri hanging from his shoulder.
        "Now I understand why you flinch when I reach toward you," Dirk said, changing the topic to keep her unbalanced, and her mind off the collar going back on her. "You're afraid of skin contact. Well we've already had skin contact. When we were in the bath, my erection brushed against your leg and nothing," he trailed off realizing what had happened next.
        "Oh. You passed out from such a light touch. What did you see?"

Briar's heart sank. Of course he'd said the collar was going back on in certain circumstances, but she had been hoping to haggle that down to "never again". The thought of even four hours of helplessness was horrifying.

As it stood, collar or no collar, he still owned her ass.

She chewed her lip, frustration replacing some of the choking fear. No way in hell. No way in hell was she staying. She just had to calm down and see this as an opportunity. She would heal, and once she did, she would haul ass out of here, fight tooth and nail if she had to. She just had to bear it for now, and THINK.

A slow breath in, a slow breath out.

"So that's what that was," she mumbled, and fought against the heat that rose in her face. "Uh, that was...er...abnormal. It's intense and unpleasant, but I don't usually pass the fuck out."

She shrugged her shoulders, wincing at the wounds there. "I saw a lot of weird shit," she said, voice tired. "Stuff that doesn't exist. You, uh...you said you're fucking sixty?"

        "Sixty, or somewhere there about," Dirk confirmed. "I was around ten years old when the godlike immortal Rit took me from Zantaric at the behest of the peryton Axieva. He trained me in many things, and prepared me for a life serving justice," he paused for a moment in his nude stroll to look at Briar's face as he spoke. "I'm discovering that my lack of social interaction has left me awkward and abnormal by present societal norms."
        "So about your magic vision," Dirk said, bringing the conversation back to Briar's ability. "How do you control it? Do you see things now, from your contact with my fine silk robe I purchased from a Serenian merchant? Or how about when I dried you with the towel that has yet to be invented?"
        Neither item was very old, objectively. Nor were they owned by anyone else or had much emotion divested in them. They were simply mundane objects of Dirk's possession.
        Following the hum in his ears, Dirk was on a nearly direct path back to their camp when he heard people creeping through the woods. He froze in place, shushing Briar. He set her down and reached into his pack. The goggles he pulled from within went on his face, and he crouched low.
        "I'm telling you Darius, it's her," a voice spoke in the darkness. "It's the outlaw Briar from the poster we saw. Some was bathing with some guy in Feona's Basin."
        "You better be right Marrick" a second voice said, "I was about to feed that  girl a second helping of sausage." Two other voices laughed at Darius's crude humor. That confirmed the four shapes Dirk saw creeping toward them.
        "We've been passing that girl we kidnapped around for months," the first voice, Marrick, said. "We can have our fun with Briar for a while before we turn her in for the reward."
        "I like that idea," a third voice said. "Even if it's not Briar, we need a new toy Darius. Polly broke long ago. She doesn't fight back, or even cry anymore. I want someone with some fight in her. Who better than a female bandit? She's supposed to be a real demon."
        "What of the man she was with," Darius asked.
        "The dogs could use a good meal," Marrick replied. All the men laughed at that one.
         

"Pffft. Awkward and abnormal doesn't even begin to cover it," Briar said with a roll of her eyes, though her stomach gave another twist. Trained by a godlike being? Living a life with the experience of more than thrice his apparent age? It was...a lot to take in. With a shake of her head, she plucked lightly at the robe's sleeve with her bare fingers, about to answer his question, when he suddenly hushed her and set her down.

Soon, she heard why.

Oh, shiiiit.

Bounty hunters. Or something like it. No, just common fucking criminals from the sounds of it, the lowest, scum-sucking bottom-feeders. These were the sorts of criminals not even Briar associated with. She was an opportunist and a bandit, not a cold-blooded murderer or torturer. Sure she'd threatened her share of people, and killed before when she had to, and maaaybe someone had died as a result of something she did, but it wasn't like she went out of her way to to it and it wasn't her fault if they got in her way like morons.

The color drained from her face at what she heard, and she wrapped her hands up in the sleeves of her robe as she scooted back on her bottom to get herself off the path and behind a thick tree, and rose sorely to her feet. She leaned against the tree, the sleeves protecting her from direct contact, and winced at the pressure on her feet. The wounds were in the tops of her feet, but they were deep, and there would be no running. Fuck. This would be a perfect opportunity, too. Let Dirk deal with the fuckers and book it away from them all.

But nope. Yet again, she was at his fucking mercy.

"What are you doing? Get off the path, you idiot," she whispered to him, motioning him over, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin.

If those guys got a hold of her, there wouldn't be a damned thing she could do about it.

        Of course Dirk had left his armor to dry, but his cloak was what he really missed. Careless. No matter. There were only four of them and he had his bag of tricks. There was no way he'd let them escape. He heard the admission of guilt, there was no need for mercy.
        "Close your eyes," Dirk whispered to Briar, "it's about to get very bright." He reached into his bag and pulled out flash pellets. He threw them in the direction of the criminals and closed his own eyes just before they struck.
        A blinding flash for just a moment had the four men crying out. Dirk opened his eyes, and in the total darkness, his goggles gave him the vision he needed to move without hesitation. He rushed them.
        Kukri in hand, he was on them in seconds. A pale naked man cutting down the criminals in the night. The big man, Darius, the others had named him, was swinging blindly. Dirk knocked away his blade, and severed his head with a single swipe. The other two went down in two more swings of Dirk's blade.
        Marrick had not stayed still when the flash had blinded them, and he stumbled through the night away from the other three. As Dirk stalked toward the man, the criminals vision cleared. He saw the naked man, splattered with the blood of his friends and he turned to run.
        "Help," Marrick shouted at the top of his lungs. He must have been running to his own camp, where more criminals waited. Dirk pursued. Not far, a small cave opening that went into the ground gave off a dim light. Marrick shouted out as he ran in. "He killed them all, he's right behind me!"
        Dirk followed without hesitation. Only two men were inside with Marrick, one on top of a motionless girl, that couldn't be more than fifteen. A sword lay on the floor near the entrance and Dirk toed the blade kicking it up into the air.
        A quick hand snatched the blade from the air and Dirk propelled it forward like a spear. It buried itself in the skull of one of the bandits as the other tried to pull his pants up. Marrick fell to his knees and began sobbing. His tears lasted a few seconds before Dirk's kukri took his head. The last bandit fumbled at his belt falling backward on his rear. He scuttled away from Dirk as the naked man stepped away from Marrick.
        "P-p-please," the mans begging ended in a gurgle as Dirk's blade slid between his ribs. His cold gaze swept the room. The girl had not moved. She still lay motionless where the rapist had left her. There was a single small satchel of loot in the cave, and two dogs locked in a cage. The animals were rabid. Dirk killed them.
        The satchel of loot went over his shoulder. Then he picked up the poor child. She didn't resist, but she did finally take notice of Dirk's existence, and a single tear ran down her cheek. A few short minutes later, Dirk returned to Briar. He was covered in blood, carrying the rescued girl.

Briar didn't remain where Dirk left her.

She closed his eyes when he told her to, saw the bright flash even from behind her eyelids, and when darkness fell around her again, only then did she open them.

It was chaos. Screams filled the air, cut off too short, along with the sounds of a blade slicing through meat and bone and the thuds of dropping bodies. Briar didn't wait to see who came out on top; the distraction was just what she needed. Steeling herself and bracing herself against the pain, she started to pick her way through the woods, barefoot, moving deeper and deeper into the cover of the trees and bushes, with idea as to where she was going, no familiarity with these particular woods, but that didn't matter now, all that mattered was getting away.

She cut her feet open on the rocks and twigs, and felt them start to bleed and sting, only adding to the misery she already felt, but she braced her weight against the trees she passed, pausing here and there for breath and strength and to pull a sticker out, and then kept moving. She could deal with the wounds later. She just had to power through it and get the fuck out of here, because whoever won, she was still screwed.

Finally, though, the pain was too much, and her body too weak from exertion and the blood she'd lost only a day ago, and she had to stop and sit behind a bush, trying hard to control her breathing so it was soft and not a loud panting. Fuck. Fuck. Her head swam with dizziness, her shoulders and feet throbbed angrily, and she thought she might have broken some of the stitches in her hand from how badly they burned, after catching herself against a tree a bit too roughly. But she didn't look to check if the stickiness she felt was blood soaking through the robe or sap from the trees.

Deep breaths. The cries had stopped. Okay. Keep going.

And so she started to crawl, keeping low, biting the inside of her cheek hard to keep from gasping as her shoulders screamed and hands stabbed with pain.

        Dirk was not surprised to find Briar gone. He'd half expected it. At least she had left his pack. He circled the area quickly until he found a bit of blood and then dropped a tiny bead from his haversack. It glowed faintly in the night. Then he ran back to the camp. There he set the girl the criminals had called Polly on what was to be his bed for the night.
        Dirk pulled a sheet from his sack, quickly spread it across the ground and stepped down into it. The magic space created went up to his knees. In it, he pulled the water decanter from his bag and unstopped it, showering himself in salt water. The blood rinsed off easily. As soon as it was gone be stepped out of the sheet and rolled it back up sliding it into the haversack.
        Now Dirk quickly pulled on his clothes and his armor. Cloak on his shoulders, boots on his feet, he rushed from the camp. It had only been ten minutes at best since returning to the camp. Fifteen since he'd left Briar at the tree. He found the bead easily, that marked the blood trail. He crushed it under foot, and followed the blood trail.
        The blood was increasing in quantity, and Dirk was beginning to become worried that Briar would be in serious danger. She'd lost a lot of blood already. This would not be good for her.
        Running as he was, his boots absorbing the sound, it wasn't long before he spotted Briar ahead of him. Crawling along the forest floor, dragging her robe in the dirt. Trembling with weakness. He thought of putting the collar on her then, but he decided better of it. He knew he couldn't trust her, but he wanted her to trust him.
        "I killed them all Briar," Dirk said as he approached her. "You don't need to fear what they might do to you if I had lost."

Briar was still hauling herself through the dirt and fallen leaves, very conscious of how abruptly silent the woods were. Her mouth went dry; she had no idea who the victor was, and didn't want to find out.

And then Dirk's voice called out, making her gasp and startle violently, right before her eyes adjusted as he came into view.

She stared up at him, a mixture of relief and frustration tearing through her in equal amounts, a strange burning starting up in her eyes, because for a brief second there she had believed that, maybe...maybe she was well and truly fucked. Maybe those guys had won--it was how many against one?--and she only had so long to escape. She blinked it back, helpless frustration swelling within her and replacing the previous terror, overpowering even the relief at seeing him.

Because he'd caught her. Again.

She dropped her head, letting it hang in exhaustion. "Just...just let me go."

        Dirk looked at the quickly gathering puddle of blood, wondering how Briar was still conscious. He reached into his haversack, pulling out the flask of strong medicine.
        "If I left you now Briar, you would die." Dirk walked forward holding the flask out to her. "You shouldn't be conscious with the amount of blood you've lost. You opened all your stitches, and there are wolves in these woods." A distant howl pierced the night, as if on cue. They'd caught the scent of blood.
        "I'd rather not have to kill wild animals, so we should hurry back to camp."

Briar eyed the flask, then took it from him, gave it a sniff, and recognized the scent of the medicine from before. As much as she wanted to resist, she wasn't stupid, and she KNEW what she'd done was dangerous, and that her condition was...

Not great.

She was exhausted and her entire body hurt, and at least for now...well...those guys were dead. Somehow. She shuddered to think of what that meant for Dirk, that he could dispatch so many on his own.

With a glower up at him, she swallowed down the medicine, and let him carry her to camp, limp and unresisting.

She knew when she was beat, and her head felt so fuzzy, and with the adrenaline ebbing, exhaustion and pain overpowered even the urge to flee. "They're all dead?" she muttered as he walked, her eyes growing heavy.

        Dirk carried Briar back into camp and set her down on the bed he'd prepared for her. She wasn't far from the new addition, Polly. He reached into the haversack and pulled out a large bowl, a small towel, and the water decanter.
        "I killed all six of them, and their two rabid dogs," Dirk told Briar as he pulled back his hood and pulled down his mask. "I also liberated that young girl there," he nodded toward Polly. A pair of thin white gloves came out of his sack next as he sat down in front of Briar. When he pulled them on they changed to look just like his bare hands.
        From the decanter, Dirk filled the bowl with salt water and dipped the towel in it. He used the wet and salty towel to clean away the dirt and blood from Briar's hands and feet. Then little scissors came out of the pack and Dirk was gently cutting away the broken stitches.
        When he was done with that, Dirk poured a sticky white substance over the wounds. He produced a needle and thread and quickly went to work restitching the cuts. The white medicine numbed Briar's pain receptors, but she still felt the pressure of the needle as it pierced her, and the tug of the deer gut thread as it sealed her gashes.
        "Try not to break these ones," Dirk instructed. "I don't have much of that deer gut remaining."

Six. Plus two rabid dogs. In how much time? For Briar, it had felt like an eternity; agony and fear made everything feel longer. She cast a tired look toward the girl, and a pang went through her. Was that...the girl? The one they had...?

She swallowed past a lump in her throat. The girl was despondent, and looked barely fourteen, fifteen, maybe. Holy fuck...

Dirk drew her attention away from her, though, when he pulled out a pair of strange gloves that soon matched his hands, but she didn't have much time to be curious about them, because then the real fun began. The salt water stung as he cleaned her still-bleeding wounds, and dirt had ground into the cuts in her feet. Briar grit her teeth to bite back the pained sounds that wanted to escape her, eyes clenched shut, and beads of sweat collected on her skin. Thankfully, it didn't last long before he applied another strange substance to her wounds that left them blessedly numb, though the pressure of the needle and pulling of her skin was...unpleasant, to say the least.

By the time he finished, she was well and truly spent, the medicine and exertion leaving her utterly exhausted. She flopped backwards onto her bed and laid there limp, her robe still dirty though she hardly cared right then.

She felt like she could sleep forever.

And also eat a horse.

"It's not like I tried to break them," she grumbled, letting her eyes fall closed. "Maybe if you hadn't fucking stabbed me like fifty times I wouldn't have any fucking stitches to break."

Cracking open an eye, she looked again toward the girl. "What're you gonna do with her?"

        Dirk sighed as he turned to look at Polly. The poor girl had been through so much. He wasn't sure what he could do for the girl. The town nearby would be a good place to start if the girl couldn't tell him where she was from.
        "I'll do whatever I can for her," Dirk said as he wiped away a last bit of blood and the numbing medicine. "At least I got justice for the crimes committed against her."
        Dirk took the bloody salt water to the edge of the camp and poured it over the boundary. He poured more in the bowl to rinse the towel and then dumped that as well. When he returned to Briar and stored away the tools he'd used, he pulled out another robe. He reached forward to untie Briar's dirty one. The one she was wearing was much nicer than the clean one, but it was covered in dirt and leaves.
        "We'll have to bathe again tomorrow morning after everything we've done tonight. I'll appreciate whatever help you can give with washing Polly."

Briar let Dirk dress her, letting him move and adjust her like a doll, far too tired to assist him herself. Though, for a split second she jerked in alarm when she saw what looked like his bare hands, before she remembered the new gloves. They felt unnervingly (or perhaps intriguingly) like skin, too.

Slouching back down again when he was finished, she curled up into a ball on her side and carefully pulled the robe in tighter. And then she went rigid when he spoke of her helping clean the girl.

"Whoa, what?" she hissed, sitting back up so she could stare at him. "Ahaha, wow, uh, no. Like, there's a lot of things wrong with that idea, like, for one, girl's traumatized, you really think she wants some stranger touching her? Two, I can't touch her! Hell fucking no. You know what that'd be LIKE? I'd get to see and feel all that shit! No way! Yeah, yeah, you've got gloves but fuck, man. You put holes in my palms! This is a terrible idea. Like, do I LOOK like someone equipped to handle some girl's trauma? You're better to just dump her off at the nearest temple and let them deal!"

But she stole a look at Polly as she spoke, and for the briefest moment, there was a strange softness in her eyes.

        "Briar, I wouldn't ask you to touch her after what you've told me about your power." Dirk reached out and took Briar's chin in his hand, turning her eyes away from Polly and toward his own.
        "I may not like your criminal behavior, but I'm not a monster." Dirk had seen the softness in Briar's eyes and he sought it now. At least he knew she had a conscience, or at the very least that she could feel sympathy.
        Briar's violet hair was falling into her bright blue eyes, the rings braided into them dangling to the sides. Dirk gently brushed it aside, for the first time looking closely into her eyes. Their faces had never been this close. Not with both of their eyes open.
        For a reason he couldn't explain, Dirk wanted to kiss her skinny lips. She was quite beautiful, and that ring in her lip felt like an invitation. If it weren't for the nature of her power he may have kissed her then. Why did he feel embarrassed about it, and why were his cheeks warming? Perhaps that was what a blush felt like. She could see his face, the color that was likely blooming there.
        Dirk broke his gaze, turning his face away from Briar. He didn't understand his own feelings. Rit had neglected emotional education. This feeling shy, was a first for him.
        "You could use the gloves to help her wash, or at the very least, you could talk to her. Help her remain calm while I wash her. I'm a man after all, and you're a woman. I may have just rescued her, but she's been through a lot."

Briar opened her mouth, about to snap something at him, but then he took her chin and brought her face to face with him. Her mouth was still open, but whatever she had been about to say hung frozen in the air as she met his eyes--and actually saw them, saw him, up close. The pale skin, gray eyes, and touseled blond hair one didn't see much in Adela, though she couldn't place his ethnicity.

She had already noticed he was handsome. She had already, embarrassingly, craved him and let him do things she'd never thought she'd allow of anyone. Clearly she hadn't been thinking. She blamed blood loss and...uh...medicine. Up close, though, it was even more painfully apparent, and he was looking at her oddly, in a way that made her belly flutter strangely--and her heart kicked it up a notch or two when his fingers brushed through her hair, sending chills racing down her spine. Confusingly, she found herself craving more, leaning into his touch before she realized what she was doing--and quickly stopped.

Considering she was his fucking slave.

She was way too fucking exhausted for this shit.

She jerked her face away, looking off to the side and putting some space between them again. What the hell. Had he been BLUSHING?

Unsettled, she hunched her shoulders and drew her knees into her chest, eager to get passed that weird moment.

"Haaah, yeah, keep her calm. I'm a great fucking candidate for calming and soothing and nurturing people. Shit, Dick, I don't know what the fuck to even say! There there, it's okay, everything's gonna be fine? Because shit's not okay and life's tough and what she went through--"

She cut off, gritting her teeth, and took a deep breath. "It's gonna be fucking hard for her."

        "I know," Dirk agreed, "so we should be kind and do what we can for her. I'm not going to just dump her on a temple without trying to find her family."
        "When I bathe her tomorrow," Dirk continued, "you just being near, may be enough for her to feel safer. Another female present, will be good for the situation. I'll have to scrub her clothes and mend them as best as I can as well." He stood, moving back toward the cook fire, which had started to die. A few pokes with a stick and the addition of another log, and it rekindled quickly.
        "I'm guessing you're hungry again," he said to Briar, "as I said before, the medicine will do that to you. Who knows when the last time Polly ate." He went about preparing the last of the food he had in his pack. While what was in the pan simmered, he approached Polly with the flask of medicine.
        "This is medicine that will help your body heal quickly," Dirk told the despondent girl, "you should drink it, and I'll make you something to eat." Polly just looked at him, not responding, but watching.
        "Can you drink it on your own, or should I hold it for you?"
        Polly slowly opened her mouth, but remained laying still. Dirk gently lifted her head and poured the medicine in her mouth. She swallowed down a mouth full, then a second. Dirk let her resume her laying and stoppered the flask. Already Polly's face was gaining more color as Dirk went to finish cooking.
        As he brought Polly a plate of food, Dirk was surprised that she sat up, prepared to feed herself. As she dug in, he took another plate over to Briar.
        "That seems like decent progress at least, don't you think?"

Briar was not looking forward to any of that tomorrow. Not only had bathing taken on an awkward significance for her, but to deal with Polly...

She cast another look at the girl, watching as Dirk tended to her, and felt that same deep pang. She was glad the girl had been rescued. Truly, she was, and she was glad those fuckers would never hurt another Polly again. But she really wasn't good with this crap. This was sensitive stuff. And she wasn't a sensitive person. She wasn't the right person to deal with this, and that made her...nervous? Uncomfortable? She'd say the wrong thing and then the girl would probably end up crying and she'd feel like a piece of garbage for it.

She knew her strengths! She knew her weaknesses! Emotional stuff was a weakness, and lying to make people feel better wasn't her forte!

Dirk, however, seemed surprisingly good at this. He was awkward as hell, but he was thoughtful, and he was doing a pretty good job of taking care of the girl. Which was completely at odds with her current impression of him since, you know, Dirk was a guy who for some reason kept freakin' surprise slave collars on his person. Yet he'd also kept her alive, and mowed down a bunch of guys and tended her wounds.

She looked over at him when he brought her a plate of food and indeed, though she was exhausted she was starving. She took a bite, pushing her dark thoughts from her head, and spoke as she chewed.

"Tough kid," she said. "She'd have to be, to survive that hell."

        Dirk nodded his agreement. Polly was surely tough to still be alive, but she had been broken. Hopefully she could be reformed into something new and whole.
        "I really hope she has the will to survive," Dirk said. "Trauma can haunt a person for the rest of their life. Influence all that they do." He filled the mug he'd given Briar earlier with a strong dwarves ale. It would make her feel great, and sleep well.
        "Keep an eye on her," Dirk said to Briar as he pulled up his hood and mask. "I'm going to do a quick search of the perimeter and obscure signs of our passing. He didn't wait for a response from Briar and ran out of the camp.
        Only a few minutes passed before Dirk returned. He walked to the only tree within the circle of the camp and climbed up it.
        "Feel free to get some sleep," he told Briar. "I mentioned earlier that I don't sleep, so I'll keep watch."

As Dirk left to check the area, Briar stayed where she was and sipped her ale. Every now and then she cast a look at Polly, who had not moved. The girl ate slowly, but she still ate on her own, and she did not speak or raise her eyes.

So...what? Should she say something or...?

Before she had time to debate much longer, Dirk returned, and Briar shoved another bite of food into her mouth and downed the rest of her ale.

Tonight was definitely a "getting blackout drunk sounds fantastic!" night. Except all the ale was doing was making her feel warm and fuzzy and sleepy.

She'd take it.

Pushing her plate and mug aside, she let out a yawn and flopped back down onto her bed. She didn't even have the energy to be annoyed by his reminder of how challenging escape would be.

"You should give Polly some of that stuff," she said on another yawn, eyes drifting shut. "That's good shit."

And soon enough, she had fallen asleep, the medicine and ale working in tandem as a sedative that soon had her lightly snoring.

        The rest of the night was uneventful. Briar seemed to be a pretty sound sleeper. Her gentle snoring an indication that her sleep was steady. Dirk listened to the night and watched Polly.
        The girl would start awake at the slightest sounds. She was likely not used to a steady nights sleep. Dirk didn't know how long she'd been the plaything of those villains. When she'd wake, Polly would check her surroundings, as if not believing it was real, before settling back to sleep. Every time, she would look up at Dirk, sitting in the tree as if to reassure herself that he still watched over her.
        At the first hint of light in the sky, Dirk slipped from the camp. It was his favorite time to hunt. He considered collaring Briar, but she was sleeping so soundly, he didn't dare risk waking her.
        The forest was teeming with wildlife, and had many edible plants. In two short hours Dirk was returning with enough food to feed them for weeks. He would have to salt, cure, smoke, or dry much of the meat, but he enjoyed the labor.
        When Briar awoke, it would be to find Polly already eating a large breakfast. One that consisted of bacon, eggs, assorted vegetables, and a rabbit haunch. Dirk was at work gutting and skinning a small deer. A meat rack near him already contained a sectioned boar. A turkey, and a rabbit hung not far away, and the smell of slow cooking mushrooms filled the air.

Briar woke to the savory smells of cooked meat and roasting mushrooms and for a few minutes she just laid there, letting herself wake up. Then a thought struck her and she reached for her neck, feeling along her throat, and sighed in relief when she felt only bare skin.

Pushing herself up so she was sitting, she bit back her groans as her body ached. It wasn't as bad as she expected, though; with the damage she'd done to herself yesterday, she shouldn't even be able to sit--and it was likely that very first dose of medicine that had saved her as she'd crawled through the woods.

All things considered, she felt less like death and more like she'd just taken a good beating.

She rubbed gingerly at her eyes with the back of her wrist, careful of her stitched hands, and yawned. Polly was already awake and digging into her breakfast, putting away more food than Briar thought the small girl capable, and her face softened as she watched. It was good to see that she at least had an appetite--that she still had the will and strength and desire to live.

She swung a look toward Dirk. "Ah, so what's this? Breakfast in bed? Well, chop chop, Dicky, I'm wide awake and I don't see mine yet!"

        Dirk didn't respond to Briar with words, but he did get her breakfast. He wiped the majority of the blood off his hands on the brown apron he was wearing, and rinsed the rest in a bowl.
        Hands clean, he grabbed the last two eggs, cracked them into the mushrooms, added a few other vegetables and whipped it all as it cooked. Dirk hadn't had time to make sausages yet, so he fried Briar some bacon and put the remaining rabbit haunch on the plate he served the rest of her food.
        "Here you go," Dirk handed the plate to Briar and poured a light wine into the empty mug that still sat near her.
        "Made with love," I hear that's one of the best spices for food, as is hunger. I'm sure you're ravenous."

Ravenously hungry from the medicine and her body's healing, Briar hardly had time to even smell how delicious it was before she was shoveling food into her mouth. It was hot, and burned her mouth enough that she had to open her mouth and puff to try to cool it, but it hardly slowed her.

She had just torn into the rabbit haunch when Dirk's words made her choke.

Made with love? Did he just--?!

She coughed, grabbed for the wine, and washed down her bite with a strong gulp of the stuff, wheezed a little after, and took another swallow. "Holy fuck, did you really just say that? Pffffhahaha, oh my gods, I can't tell if you're serious or just really good at ironic deadpan humor and this is all just one giant joke on me. Well played if it is! I can't fucking tell!"

        Dirk tossed a thin little book next to Briar. It was well worn, the pages yellowed and curling. It was old. Almost as old as Dirk, though the style of print was fairly recent. His single memento from living in Zantaric, the book was about a happy family. Rit had allowed Dirk to keep it.
        "The mother in the story always says that the food is made with love," Dirk explained. "The father comments that if it weren't for hunger, the best spice, his wives cooking wouldn't be any good. Was I incorrect in my usage?"

Briar blinked down at that book, reached to grab it, and froze with her bare hand hovering inches above it. The book looked old. Really old. And it was one of Dirk's books.

Shooting him a squinty-eyed look, she rolled her hands up in the sleeves of the robe and picked it up that way instead, holding it up and letting the pages spill open. With her other hand, also balled up in the sleeves, she flipped through the pages, pausing and reading one page at random.

Then she looked back at Dirk. "This is a children's book," she said with a snort, lips twisted in amusement and eyebrow arched. She tossed it back onto her bed. "Written for children."

        "I don't understand the significance of that," Dirk said, "I've had it since I was a child."

Briar rolled her eyes. Of course he didn't pick up that she was making fun of him.

"It's childish, is all," she said with a shrug. "Pfffft. Made with love. So did you like kiss all the eggs and whisper sweet nothings in the little rabbit's ears?"

        Now Dirk knew Briar was mocking him. He just didn't understand why what she said was supposed to be insulting. It made no sense. Why would anyone kiss the eggs or whisper to a dead rabbit? He'd never understand humor.
        "Can you explain why your insults are funny," Dirk asked sincerely, "I'm really struggling with humor. People tell jokes all the time and I never understand."

Well, that was one way to suck the wind right out of her sails.

Briar's grin faded, her eyes going wide in disbelief for a second, before her brow furrowed in annoyance--and then confusion. She opened her mouth and held up a finger, paused, blinked, and twisted her lips in thought. Uh. Explain why it was funny...?

Erm.

Uh.

...Huh.

Finally, she sank her face into her hand, wincing as that pressed against her wound. "It's funny 'cause...just...fuck. It just is! 'Cause you know, love? People in love kiss and shit? And the food was made with love so you like--oh, fuck it, NEVER FUCKING MIND, it's just funny, alright? I was making fun of you and it was hilarious. I can't explain it! That kills it and makes it decidedly not funny which defeats the whole freakin' purpose. You don't analyze jokes, that's like the bloody golden rule of being funny. Gods!"

        Briar's confusion and frustration were plenty humorous to Dirk. She couldn't see the grin on his face, as he'd returned to working on the young buck he'd been skinning.
        Dirk wasn't wearing his armor. In fact, he wore only the thin cotton garments he normally wore under the armor. They were thin, and translucent where they clung to the sweat on his body. His cloak was hanging from the tree Briar slept beneath, while his boots and foot wraps were close enough to the fire to be warmed. He did wear his bracers though, and the speed they lent his hands was invaluable. All the meat was quickly sectioned, and Dirk moved to preparing the pelt for treatment.
        It didn't take Dirk long to scrape the pelt and salt it, as he had with the boar and rabbit pelts. Every other part of the animals was kept and treated as well. Bones, teeth, sinew, hooves, it all would find a use. There was no reason to waste what could be utilized in some way. The nearly endless carrying capacity of the haversack made it easy to store, so quantity was not an issue either.
        Rit had not only trained Dirk to fight, but to be self sustaining. In a few short weeks, he'd have leather enough to make a few garments, or something else he could use. In the mean time they would have plenty to eat and he could make tools as well.
        "More."
        Dirk turned his head to look at Polly. The girl had spoken. It was so faint, he wasn't sure what she'd said, but she held up her plate. He was surprised. Only a day after being freed and she ate and spoke. Briar was right, this girl was tough.
        "You want more," Dirk asked as he cleaned his hands again. A barely visible nod was the only confirmation she gave, and all he needed. There were no more eggs, but Dirk had just cut the loin into steaks, so he started to cook a smaller one.

Exasperated, Briar returned to stuffing her face, feeling like her stomach had become a bottomless pit that would not be filled. As she ate, she kept an eye on her surroundings--which included Dirk and Polly--and hated herself a little every time her eyes lingered a bit too long on Dirk.

Stupid handsome bastardly idiot. It really was a shame that he had to be all...by the bloody book. Shame, too, that he was so naive he hadn't yet figured out the law was bogus, and mostly just benefited the very privileged.

She nibbled her rabbit leg to the bone, and ran her finger through the juices on the plate, licking those up as well. She was still mopping up the excess when Polly spoke, and she shot a look at the girl with her eyebrows raised.

Now she was speaking. And she was gutsy enough to ask for more food. That truly was progress, when Briar had thought she might still be in shock, or so withdrawn inside herself that she was lost to the outside world.

She licked her fingers clean, still watching the girl--the girl who was probably a lot more perceptive than either of them knew--and then looked back to Dirk. She'd had a thought as she ate, a rather unsettling one, but it would definitely need to be addressed, and soon.

"Hey. Hey, Dicky-pants?" she called, setting her plate aside and taking up the wine. "A word when you're done there, huh?"

        "One moment," Dirk told Briar. He finished cooking the steak, medium well, piled it with more vegetables, and took it to Polly. After sliding it onto her plate, he reached to pay the girls head, and she flinched so hard she almost dropped the food. Dirk retracted his hand from her and gave her an apologetic look.
        "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he said to the girl, "Perhaps unsolicited physical contact is too much as of yet." As he walked away to find out what Briar wanted, Polly was visibly trembling. She may be tough, but it would not do to rush her.
        "Is there something else you need," Dirk asked Briar, "more to eat perhaps?"

...Oh good lord.

If anyone knew what it was like to cringe from touch, it was Briar, and watching Dirk's failed interaction with Polly was enough to make her grit her teeth in pure empathy. It was painful, like watching a wagon crash in progress, and she almost got to her feet before her body ached in protest.

She sat back down and took a long swallow of wine. Whatever. Wasn't like she cared or anything. Wasn't her problem, wasn't her business, and she'd be gone and done with them both soon enough. She had nearly drained the mug by the time Dirk approached her, and she set it back down and pointed to the ground before her, signaling him to sit.

"Yeah, I'll take more, duh, but that's not what I'm talking about here," she said, keeping her voice low. She shot a glance at Polly, and then looked back at Dirk. "Now listen up, Dicky, 'cause this is kinda important, alright? You're gonna wanna head off into the woods and scout around for a plant with bright red berries, they grow in clusters of three, usually in shady, damp areas. The leaves are big and broad and waxy and kinda got like veiny white-ish patterns or whatever on 'em. It's called Bloodseed, but that's not important, what's important is you gotta gather up like a good amount of those berries, bring 'em back here, boil 'em in a tea and get Polly to drink it. Like yesterday."

She gave a little shrug. "It tastes nasty as fuck, but...y'know." Another shrug. "Helps with...womanly shit. But it's also supposed to help with other shit." And she lowered her voice even more. "Like unwanted babies?"

        "I think that's probably a good idea," Dirk agreed. "Normally I would be against an act that takes the life of an unborn child, but in this case." He let the silence hang, the thought didn't need to be finished. A young girl, used as a sex slave, didn't need the prospect of a pregnancy by her rapists. Polly looked too malnourished to be able to get pregnant, or sustain a second life if she did. That didn't mean the precautionary action shouldn't be taken.
        "I'll do so now."
        Dirk stood, and walked away from Briar to clean himself up. Once he had, he donned his gear, and set off to find some Bloodseed. It wasn't a plant he was familiar with, but maybe Rit overlooked it because Dirk wouldn't need it as a man. He searched for a good hour before finding the plant with its little red berries. He picked every one of the berries and even took cuttings of the plant for good measure.
        On returning to camp, Dirk did as Briar had instructed, making a tea from the berries. He added a few other ingredients to the brew. Some actual tea leaves, baby green tips, known as white tea. Along with that he added pieces of a dried pear and a dried peach. To finish it off, he sweetened it with honey that he had only just gathered a few days earlier. Once he was confident it had steeped long enough, he strained it into a mug. It smelled quite pleasant.
        "Drink this, it's tea with medicine in it," Dirk handed the mug to Polly, "Briar said it's very helpful for women."

It would have been the perfect time to leave.

The perfect excuse to send Dirk away and just...escape.

But Briar hadn't made the plant up, and she was in no condition to escape, so she stayed where she was and nibbled at her food. When she finished it, she wound up dozing again, full and exhausted as her body worked on healing itself. Dozing was better than the awkwardness of being left alone with Polly, in any case. She still wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to the girl--and she didn't yet have the energy to try to figure that out.

When Dirk returned, she roused from her light sleep but didn't get up from where she lay, instead watching from cracked eyes to see that he'd found the stuff, and that he was making it correctly. Ah, yep, that was Bloodseed all right. She watched him add other ingredients to the mix, and pursed her lips. It probably wouldn't help much; Bloodseed was bitter as hell, and her own attempts at sweetening it had just made it a sweeter sort of nasty. But as Polly drank it, she didn't recoil or make a face, and instead sipped it down like it was nectar.

...Well then.

"I see ya found it alright," she said on a yawn, stretching sorely. "Hope you got extra. I'm gonna need that shit in another couple weeks."

        "Indeed I did," Dirk agreed. He wasn't sure all what the herb did, but if Briar needed it within the next couple weeks, then it must have more benefits than he imagined. He stored it away for later use, but not before wrapping the ends of his cuttings in moist cloth treated with herbs that would prepare the plant to root.
        After pouring another mug of the tea, Dirk stripped back down to his thin garment, so that he might finish his work on the meat. The tools he used were subjectively new, and of fine crafting. Made of some sort of polymer material they had on Libra Station, they were nearly indestructible, never needed sharpening, and wouldn't be crafted for thousands of years. The separated bone and sinew clean and with ease, making the entire process finish in half the time of modern tools. Of course, Dirk did have to take extra care. He didn't want to lose a finger to carelessness.
        It didn't take long for task to be finished. The cuts were separated and treated accordingly, then wrapped and packaged for later use, or hung to be dried or smoked. Dirk cleaned the area of his work, and then moved to the task of oiling his gear, blades, boots, armor. Everything needed to be tended on a near daily basis to be kept at peak efficiency. As he sat to get through the task, he also brought out Briar's clothes and gear, with every intention of tending them as well.
        "After I finish this, we should all go down for a communal bath."

Briar watched Dirk as he worked, attributing his speed to magic rather than technology. Not that she was paying much attention to his process so much as the way his thin clothes hugged his body and revealed the outline of his muscles. Hey, might as well enjoy the free show while she was an invalid, and for now, at least, Dirk was in her good graces. As good as her graces got.

For the most part, she believed he was sincere in his reluctance to use the collar--but that also didn't mean she fully trusted him, because reluctance and regret didn't mean he wouldn't do it if he felt the need. But as long as it stayed off her neck, she could relax a little, precarious as her situation was.

She sat up gingerly, checking the stitches in her hands, and looked up when Dirk spoke. Communal bath. Oh joy.

She fought back the rising blush. Oh joy, indeed...

"Uh, sure, Dicky. Sounds good," she said, fighting against the equally rising awkwardness. "I could use the soak. I feel like I was run over by a fucking horse. Got anymore of that medicine shit?" It was finally starting to wear off--though she didn't feel anywhere near as sore as she should have.

        "I do," Dirk said. He paused in his tending to the armor to reach into his bag. He pulled the medicine flask from inside and gently tossed it in Briar's direction. It landed beside her, with an audible slosh of the liquid inside. No need to explain that the flask magically turned water into medicine, so he would never run out. There was no magic in Dirk, so Rit had given him many magic items to narrow the field.
       "Polly," Dirk turned to the sleight girl, "we're going to take you to a beautiful spot where you can be cleansed of any last traces of those men. Does that sound like an acceptable plan to you?"
        The girl sat staring at Dirk, looking a little scared, saying nothing. After a long moment, her head made the smallest incline, and she let out a barely audible squeak. Perhaps she hadn't spoken when she wanted more food. Perhaps it had just been a sound she'd made. It was less progress than he thought it was, but at least it was something.
        Dirk took a moment to put his glass circlet on. Then he put his bracers back on as well, speeding the movement of his hands. They were inhumanly fast now, working at his boots, his armor, his many blades. Briar's gear he tended more carefully, getting to know it. Every piece was unique, had its own personality. His hands were still unnaturally fast but the circlet made his mind equally quick, and he made no mistakes. Dirk had already patched and mended her things to some degree, and now he cleaned them up more. He planned on making her a pair of finely crafted boots. Now that she had somewhat explained her ability, he'd make her a pair of gloves as well.
        With all of their weapons and other gear properly tended to, Dirk stood. He'd cleaned and stowed his tools, and had put his circlet and bracers back in the haversack. He put a bundle the clothes, and the bloody apron, into a stringed sack, and slung it over one shoulder, putting his haversack and belted kukri over the other.
        "Can you walk, and follow me okay Polly? I have to carry Briar. Her feet are seriously injured." In response, the girl slowly stood.

Briar watched Dirk work, his hands a freakin' blur--and her observant thief's eyes noticed that it began after he wore the bracers and circlet, and stopped when he removed it. Instantly, her interest was piqued. Enchanted items, then? She didn't have to touch them to glean that much from them, and the wheels in her head began to turn as she added that to the mental catalogue of things she'd steal from him when she escaped.

Hopefully the things she took would help her progress and impede his inevitable pursuit.

Now if only she could steal that collar, too.

She smiled to herself, enjoying that daydream, and covered her hands with her robe before she took up the medicine flask. She unstoppered it and took a pull from it, then tossed it back to Dirk. She hadn't yet figured out that was magical, too, and that Dirk wasn't just making more medicine--or keeping multiples in that bag of his.

"Thanks for keeping my shit, by the way. And here I thought you'd tossed it!" she said as she lifted her arms, ready for him to carry her. "I mean, you did kinda turn my shit into some kinda holey cheese. You turned me into a holey cheese. Hey, that's right, you said you'd give me whatever I wanted, right? When I can walk again, I want new clothes. Nice ones. Those ones were nice before they had to be all patched up."

        The short jaunt to the bathing area was uneventful. The singing of birds overhead gave a bright feel to the woods. A rabbit crossed the path ahead of the small group, and a turkey could be heard nearby. All in all, it was peaceful and pleasant. Dirk carried Briar as he had before, gently cradled in his arms, as Polly slowly shuffled along beside them. She brought down the pace, a slight nervousness about her.
        When they arrived at the basin, Dirk set Briar where he had before, and went about preparing the area. He was a bit faster this time, having more familiarity with the area. Though he only had two towels so Dirk decided he would go without or use one wet. There was little ceremony or preamble to his action as he helped Briar undress and get into the water. He remained in his thin garments, that were now completely transparent from the water, as well as putting on the scrubbing gloves so that his skin would be guarded against accidental contact. Once he was sure Briar was comfortable, he turned to Polly.
        "Would you like my help undressing and getting in, or can you manage?" Shaking nervously the girl began to undress.

"Oh for the love of..."

Briar let out a loud sigh from where she sat soaking in the water and turned to regard both Dirk and Polly. With a frown, she waved the girl over.

"Why don'tcha come over here, huh? To the ladies section of the bath. No stinky boys allowed over here." She stuck her tongue out at Dirk as she said it. "You can leave your clothes on if you want. I mean, then they'll be wet and it's hard to wash, but whatever, Dick's probably got something extra you can wear, right Dicky?"

        Polly wore no under garments, and she was barefoot as well. At Briar's suggestion that she not undress she stopped undoing the ties on her thin and tattered dress. Enough were already untied though, that as she began to move forward, what remained of the dress fell apart. It fell around her legs, tripping her as she stepped, her all but nude form falling forward with an instant look of shock on her face.
        Dirk leaped from the water, sliding under Polly, catching her against his muscled chest. Terror and embarrassment warred with each other as Polly buried her face against him, and began to sob. Dirk swept the now naked girl up into his arms and carried her into the water. There, the dry blood caked to her thighs began to turn the water pink. It swirled away, down into the bead that pulled all dirt and grime into itself. He sat on the ledge, holding Polly gently, letting her cry.
        "I do indeed have something you can wear," Dirk said, "while you were sleeping, I patched together fabric from several past projects to make a dress. It should fit you pretty well, and I can make you a simple pair of leather shoes. I just need to measure your feet."

That was difficult to witness, to say the least. Watching the girl break down like that, seeing the blood flaking off her thighs and clouding the water before it was drained away...

Gods, no one deserved to go through what she had. Deep down, Briar was truly glad Dirk had been able to find her. Or maybe it wasn't a "deep down" feeling at all, but a far more genuine, surface level emotion than she was willing to admit.

She squirmed a little where she sat, still not sure what to say, or if she should say anything at all. The girl was scared out of her mind, and no wonder after what she'd been through--and now she was naked in the arms of a man. Her rescuer, sure, but Briar didn't think that distinction mattered much when it came to trauma. She'd seen the shame mixing with the terror in her eyes, and anger swelled within her right alongside the pity, though it had no target because those men were dead.

With a sigh, she gingerly worked at her braids, careful not to flex her hands too much, and set the golden hoops aside on the edge of the basin. Her bandana came off next, and she dunked her head under the water to soak her hair before she shot Polly and Dirk a curious look.

"Uhh...say, ah, Polly? Yeah. If you're feeling up to it in a bit, I could probably like...fix your hair or something." Her hair didn't look like it had been tended to in ages, a tangled, matted mess. "I dunno. Just a thought, if you're up to it. And if Dicky there gives me some gloves or something. Look, kiddo, you're safe here now, alright? Anyone tries anything funny, they'll get a fucking knife in their ribs."

        As rough as Briar was with her words, it was enough to help Polly feel a bit better. Her sobbing eased, and she was soon trying to climb out of Dirk's arms.
        "Easy now," Dirk warned, "don't slip and crack your head on the rocks."
        He gently set Polly down beside him, and immediately started to take off the gloves to give to Briar. Dirk set them beside her, and went to his bag to fetch implements for tending hair. He didn't use them often himself, only when he trimmed his own hair every month or so.
        The shears, brush, and comb, were all recent acquisitions. The plastic ones he'd had before were damaged by the cold when he had gone far to the north. These ones, crafted from bone, antler, and porcupine quills, as well as silver for the shears, were much more durable, and weather resistant. Polly's hair was so matted and snarled, it would take a decent effort to untangle. So much of it was damaged and broken, it would be many different lengths. It would have to be cut to look at all normal. Luckily, hair would grow back.
        With the hair tools handed over, Dirk climbed from the water to fetch the bundle of laundry he'd brought. He pulled a washboard from the haversack, and went to work scrubbing his clothes and bloody apron, Briar's clothing, and now the tattered mess that was Polly's old dress. It didn't take long to do once he decided to use his bracers again, and soon he was peeling off his translucent garb to scrub as well. Once it all had been washed, Dirk stood nude in the warm sun, hanging the wet laundry on his heating rack. The glistening wet muscles in his back caught the sun as he shook and straightened the clothes so that they would dry quickly and evenly. He turned back to the basin when he was done, catching Briar staring at him. She seemed to do that a lot when she thought he wasn't looking, and Dirk wondered what sort of plot she was scheming.
        For now, Briar was being kind and helpful. Tending to Polly was probably a bit nerve wracking with the prospect of experiencing the girls trauma. For the first time he admired Briar, and so he took a moment, standing naked in the sun, to really admire her. She was a beautiful, if rough, creature. He also took that time to actually look over Polly. He hadn't had time to inspect her during the rescue, and had decided to give her space for now.
        Rinsed of the majority of the grime that had covered her before, Polly was quite pretty. Pale olive skin, Raven black hair, and bright grey eyes. Most of the swelling in her lips was gone, and he could see that they were full and plump. Her nose was sharp but small, her cheek bones pronounced in a way that brought attention to her eyes. Her eyebrows were thick, but grew neat and mostly even, and as the bruises around her eyes healed, they would do more to enhance her beautiful eyes. She was definitely no older than fifteen, maybe sixteen, as she did have a somewhat womanly figure, though her frame was sleight and she showed signs of malnutrition. She was just a touch taller than Briar, and though her bust was somewhat small, her breasts were noticeably larger than Briar's as well. The girl shivered. With both the sun and water warm, and barely a breeze to be felt through the trees, it was likely the trauma she'd endured. Her face was mostly downcast, but she did flit furtive glances at their surrounds, searching for an imagined threat.
        Dirk stepped down into the water again, sitting just out of reach of the girl. She stared at him, with a mixture of fear and awe, that made him feel sad, and a bit uncomfortable. Her mouth twitched, and then formed into a demure smile for just a moment before she covered her face with her hands and trembled more fiercely. Dirk didn't know what that was about, but with the awkward moment passed, he decided to wash, while Briar warred with tangles of hair.

The gloves buzzed against Briar's skin when she touched them, but even mundane objects gave a little feedback. No strong emotions or memories had bled into the objects, so she would have had to dig deep and focus hard to draw them out. It was a faint buzz she was used to, and easy to block out as she slipped the gloves on and flexed her fingers carefully.

This was risky. Her hands were healing, but they weren't healed, so she would have to be careful as she worked. More risky still was Polly herself, who was as naked as she was. That was the part she was most nervous about. One careless move on either of their parts, and she would be in for one hell of a bad time. That she knew from experience, only from the opposite side; it had taken weeks before the memories faded enough for her to sleep again when, back when she was fourteen and pretending to be a boy, a man punched her face after she'd cheated him at cards. (Though was it really cheating when she could feel what was on them?)

The split lip was far less shocking than learning, in vivid imagery, what he did to his wife's little boy at night.

Deep breaths. As Polly sat beside her, Briar scooted a safe distance away. "Alright. Just sit where you are, and just sorta turn a little...I'm gonna touch your shoulders here real quick." She reached out and took the girl by the shoulders, gently coaxing her to turn her back more toward her, so they were both sitting sideways on the little shelf. "There ya go. Stay like that. And listen, this is nothing personal or anything, but whatever you do, don't touch me. Okay? Okay!"

She frowned at the mass of snarled and matted hair, planning out her best angle of attack, and took up the comb. "Alright, I'm gonna touch your head. Just gonna start doing what I can here." And she began to pick at the parts that were salvageable, working tips to roots. "Holler if it hurts. Fair warning, I'm probably gonna have to cut like...a fuckton of this off. Short hair's neat, though. Not that I'm biased or anything. I got some experience cutting short hair so I promise not to make you look like a twelve-year-old boy."

It was slow work, and Briar paused every so often to give her aching hands a break and Polly's neck a rest. She ran her hands through the warm water, cupping it and pouring it onto Polly's shoulders as she waited, a vain effort at relieving her shivering. And while she did, she glanced at Dirk now and then, noting with a flush that he was naked--and clamping down on yesterday's memories, since now was definitely not the time! And when she glanced up at him once when she thought she was being sneaky, and saw him looking back at her, she quickly snapped back to her work with a rising blush, suddenly aware of how bare she was, too. Dammit. Stupid, stupid. All of this was stupid.

Resisting the silly urge to cover herself, she instead squared her shoulders and returned to her tedious work. Tedious, and mostly unrewarding, as Briar saw that to make Polly's hair even and not stupid, she'd have to crop it into a pixie cut. With a click of her tongue, Briar coaxed Polly to tip her head down toward her chest, and then used the shears to start clipping away matted chunks of her hair.

"It's gonna be damned short, kiddo," she said as the hair fell away into the water, floating along the surface before the bead dragged it down. "But it'll still look cute. Promise. And it'll grow back." She glanced up in time to see Dirk sit down into the water with them, and wasn't aware of he and Polly's little moment there, with the girl's back to her. She did, however, frown when she saw the girl's tension, and saw her trembling intensify.

With a scowl, she lowered the shears. "Dirk, you're scaring the kid, and I can't clip around her ears when she's vibrating like this. Back off a little, huh?"

        Back off is just what Dirk did, turning away from Briar and Polly as hair was snipped away. Briar had the soft yet coarse gloves, but Dirk still had the stiff brush he used for deep scrubbing. He used it now, removing any sweat and grime as well as exfoliating thoroughly. It left his pale skin a bright pink, tracks of the brushes bristles clear on his skin. Body completely clean, he dipped his head into the sudsy water lathering it fiercely, digging down to his scalp with his nails. The mortals of this era were not as thorough in their bathing, nor did they bathe as frequently as Dirk, who tried to clean himself every day.
        Finished with his scrubbing, Dirk turned back to see the progress Briar had made. The pixie cut was coming along nicely, leaving the bruises on Polly's neck and throat much more visible. The medicine would get rid of those over the course of that day, thankfully. They were finger shaped, and hard to look at.
        Sitting in his side of the basin's ledge, Dirk enjoyed the heat of the water, soaking to his bones.

With Dirk doing his own thing, Briar made more progress. She cut away all the ruined chunks of hair, then worked on getting it all even. And then, once that was done, she made an attempt at shaping it into something that wouldn't be ugly and awkward. She cut her own hair, and had been cutting it herself since she left home and hacked it all off, so it came rather easily to her as she snipped here and there. Finally, she passed her hand through Polly's hair, scattering hair trimmings everywhere, and gave it a little ruffle to fluff it. It was short, but still feminine, and she thought it suited Polly well.

Though it exposed all that awful bruising. Gods.

"There," she said. "Probably feels a shitton lighter, too. I don't got a mirror, but trust me, it looks good. And, as a bonus, you could still probably slick it back and pass for a pretty guy if you needed to. Go ahead and rinse off. You're all hairy now."

Looking over to where Dirk sat soaking, she snapped her fingers to get his attention. "Looks good, right?"

Dirk had no preference on the length of a woman's hair. When Briar asked if Polly's hair looked good his automatic reaction was to say that he lacked sufficient knowledge to make a judgment. Luckily for him, he'd spent enough time amongst mortals to pick up social queues. Briar's tone, and the near glare she gave him, told him what he thought didn't actually matter. He was just supposed to affirm the question, but that could be a problem. Dirk was unaccustomed with social deception. Unable to think of the correct thing to say, he merely said, "Yes, it looks good." There was no elaboration.

That was definitely the wrong answer.

Briar's almost-glare turned into a full-on glare, her shoulders hitching up despite the ache in  them from where he'd wounded her.

"'Good'? Just good? I fucking slave over her hair with my fucked up hands, mere INCHES from one hell of a bad day, to make her look like a goddamned fairy princess outta some fantasy...and all you can say is it looks GOOD? What the fuck, man! At least TRY to show some goddamned enthusiasm! Won't fucking kill ya! She looks fucking gorgeous, you ass!"

Dirk was not totally surprised at Briar's reaction to his noncommittal response. She was rather volatile after all. He did find it odd though, that Briar wanted him to comment on Polly's attractiveness. He wasn't sure it was quite appropriate, given the girls circumstance. He did his best effort to amend his previous statement.
        "She is gorgeous, yes, and the haircut suits the shape of her face and neck." While his tone likely still lacked the enthusiasm Briar desired, he sounded like an art critic, it at least did not sound forced or faked. He was aware of the girls beauty, that fit most common standards. Polly didn't seem offended. If anything, perhaps a bit demure. She appeared to be trying to see her reflection in the water.

Briar's cheeks puffed out before she let her breath out in a long, loud, groaning sigh. It seemed that was about as good as she was going to get, but at least he acknowledged her find craftsmanship this time. Goddamn, she just wanted some bloody recognition and praise for her obvious awesomeness. Was that so much to ask?

"Whatever," she huffed. "I'll take it. Damn right it suits her face, I worked hard to make sure it'd work for her," she said. "I'm a goddamned artist. Anyway, that's done now."

She started to peel the gloves off. "Polly'll probably wanna wash herself. Right? I mean, I guess unless you need, uh, help or something, but anyway, you'll wanna use these gloves, probably. They're pretty great."

        Polly held out her hands, palms turned up, waiting to receive the gloves. She didn't know about Briar's ability, but she could infer from her observations of the strange duo that were her companions, that Briar did not like to be touched. In some cases, she seemed to even not want to touch things. Rather than upset the woman caring for her so gently, Polly decided to silently acquiesce to her unspoken needs.

Polly didn't reach for the gloves, but rather waited to receive them, and Briar cocked an eyebrow at that. Huh. Polite kid. With a shrug, she plopped the gloves into the girl's hands.

"If ya need any help, just ask for it," she said as she leaned back, happy to relax and soak in the calming water.

        Polly slipped on the gloves, and began to scrub at her skin. She wasn't gentle, and seemed to think that scrubbing off her skin would remove the taint of her rapists. She didn't make herself bleed, but her skin was brightening. Dirk watched her from the corner of his eye. He just wanted to make sure the scrubbing didn't go to far. When he was confident she wasn't going to hurt herself, Dirk returned his attention to their surroundings. Or at least he had planned to.
        Dirk instead found himself looking at Briar. Again, he looked from the corner of his eye. Why did he find it so hard to look away? Why was he lingering on the curve of her neck, her perky little breasts? What was the tingling he felt in his loins?

Briar also watched Polly without staring at her, mouth tight and brow slightly furrowed with unspoken concern. She was going to scrub herself raw if she kept that up, and tearing off layers of skin wasn't going to reduce her trauma.

"Ease up there, kid," Briar called. "Easy. Ya don't need to go so hard."

She reached up to run her fingers gingerly through her own hair, sighing, and looked at Dirk. "You got anything gentler than those gloves?"

        Dirk had a pair of sponges that he used when he had to clean wounds. He'd actually used them on Briar when she was unconscious. He stepped up out of the water, toward the place his pack was. His attraction to Briar, the tingling that he'd felt in his loins, it had been the beginnings of an erection. Only just starting, his member had grown somewhat thicker, but had not begun to climb as it grew firm. The distraction of fetching the sponges was enough that it was not continuing in it's growth, but Briar would likely notice the increase in his girth. She had not been quiet in her observations of his previous nudity, and while it seemed like nothing to him, she had her own opinions. Dirk himself did not notice the semi-erection, as he'd not experienced sexual arousal before. He'd found women beautiful, like one finds flowers beautiful, the sunset, the stars, not in a sexual way. Polly was much too distracted with her scrubbing to even pay attention to Dirks nudity, which was likely a blessing.
        Reaching into the bag, Dirk pulled out the sponges, and some very gentle soap. He took it back to the bath, and by the time he was stepping back down into the water, his penis had fully deflated. He slowly approached Polly, extending his hands to present her with the washing implements.
        "Here you go Polly, these will be gentler."
        "Alba," the girl whispered. Dirk was confused and the expression showed on his face as she looked up at him. "My name is Alba. Those men named me Polly." Alba took off the gloves and let them fall into the water as she took the sponges and soap from Dirk. She began to wash again, cleaning the places she'd already scrubbed, and while her demeanor had relaxed a bit, she still had an air of nervousness.
        Dirk meanwhile, found himself sitting much closer to Briar than he'd intended.

Briar definitely noticed. She noticed because she couldn't help but eye him as he rose from the water, though she kept her glances sidelong in the hopes that he wouldn't notice her watching--or notice her vivid blush as she studied him. For all that she acted worldly and for all that her life had been rough and hard and had forced her to grow up fast, in a lot of ways she was still sorely sheltered. Dirk was the first man she had seen fully naked up close.

She dared a quick glance down and her face burned even hotter. Okay. So maybe she gave him shit and all but like...was his...uh...penis just bigger than she remembered or...?

She jerked her eyes back up and dunked her head under the water quickly to re-wet her hair and cover up the heat in her face with heat from the water. Wow, whoa, yeah, now was NOT THE TIME. Not that any time was the time! But probably especially not right next to a girl that had been fucking traumatized? But also there was just never a good time for THAT in general because it was flippin' DIRK and she hated him! And there were several other issues there!

The stupid, attractive BASTARD.

She attacked her own hair scrubbing a bit more fiercely than she ought to, her hands aching as she washed herself, but the pain was a nice distraction from the fast beat of her heart, the weird tickle in her belly, and the pleasant warmth between her thighs. Stupid, stupid, handsome asshole!

She tried not to look at him as he came so close to her in  handing off the new implements to Polly--no, Alba. And she grit her teeth and tried hard to ignore him when he sat down, so close she swore she could feel his body heat even through the water. Her imagination no doubt, but it was no less infuriating.

"Alba, huh? That's a pretty name," she said distractedly, even as she sank deeper into the water, until it came up to her shoulders. He was so close and so naked that it made her very aware of her own nudity--and the memory of earlier flashed in her mind, making her sink down until it was up to her chin, and making her suddenly that much more desperate to ignore him. How goddamned mortifying...

"It suits ya waaay better than Polly. Say, Dick, we about done here?" she asked suddenly, still not looking at him.

        Dirks response to Briar was to stand, exit the water, and check the drying clothes. They weren't quite dry yet, and would need to hang on the rack for a little while longer. He turned back to see that Briar was watching, waiting for his response, and that Alba had finished washing and was now also observing him. If he were any other man, he would have felt proud or embarrassed to be be standing in the nude, with two attractive, and equally nude women staring at him. The entire situation was lost on Dirk.
        "The clothes need more time to dry," Dirk said. "I don't think you'll find wearing a damp robe very comfortable." Before returning to the water, Dirk pulled a small glass dish from his bag. After retrieving three small, glistening beads, from the dish, he placed it back in the bag and returned to the water. The golden yellow bead he placed in his mouth and offered his hand with the other two to Briar.
        "The light pink one is strawberry," Dirk told her, "and the light green one is watermelon. They don't much actually taste like strawberry or watermelon, but that's the name of their flavors. You suck on them, and they slowly dissolve in your mouth. Don't chew it though. That's a waste. Take whichever you like and I'll give the remaining one to Alba." Dirk hadn't seen any version of hard candy yet, in this era, though he didn't spend time in big cities, so it was possibly out there somewhere. Most of what would be available now though, would be nowhere near this refined.

Oh, of fucking course they'd have to stay here longer. And of COURSE he would have to get out of the water fifty bajillion more times to show off his flexing ass and glistening chest and shapely abs and...y'know...

...everything else.

Briar snapped a look back to Alba and was surprised to find her staring at Dirk, though she found she couldn't read her expression. Apprehension? Curiosity? Unease? It was hard to say, but unexpected all the same.

She hunched her shoulders as Dirk returned, wincing as they ached from her wounds. Did he realize how close he was?

"Huh?" she said suddenly, looking over at his outstretched hand and blinking down at the little beads. Watermelon and strawberry? In those things? "Those? Uh...so...what the hell are these exactly?" she continued as she picked up the green one and looked it over, then sniffed at it. "This ain't like any watermelon I've ever seen."

The water on her hand was making it turn sticky, so with a shrug, she popped it into her mouth--and furrowed her brow. It was sweet like pure sugar, a new flavor bursting on her tongue. "Definitely don't taste like watermelon," she mumbled around the candy. But it wasn't bad at all. Quite the opposite! She guessed it maybe vaguely tasted like fruit? She cocked her head as she sucked on it, still trying to puzzle it out.

"Ain't bad though," she added, and then peered at Dirk curiously. "What'd ya get? Yours was different. Ya got other flavors of these things?"

"Mine was butterscotch," Dirk said to Briar, though he wasn't sure the flavor existed yet. There were lots of things he had experienced that wouldn't be possible for many hundreds or thousands of years. There were times he missed time travel, but he enjoyed his own time well enough. He had a mission to undertake in the here and now. He was a protector and champion for those unable to defend themselves.
        "I have innumerable flavors of them. One of the many gifts of the one who trained me. They are made mostly of purified sugar," he explained. "If you eat too many they can make you sick or damage your teeth. I let myself enjoy one on rare occasions." Dirk offered the strawberry one to Alba. She cautiously licked it before she popped the pink candy in her mouth with obvious delight.

Briar froze, still sucking on her candy. "Whatcha mean damage your teeth? What's this shit made out of like is this safe or what?"

And then, after another pause, she added, "Like...how many is too many and what other flavors ya got?"

        "As I said, the candy is made almost entirely of pure sugar," Dirk replied. "If you eat too much, and fail to keep your teeth clean, it can lead to tooth decay, and further neglect can lead to losing teeth." He stepped away from Alba, sitting back where he had been before, unintentionally close to Briar. "As for what flavors, I have just about any flavor you could dream of."

Gods be damned, why did he have to keep being all naked and close?

Briar jerked her eyes up to his face and held them there, staring very pointedly at a place right around the middle of his forehead. Just to be extra safe.

"Yeah, well, ya look like you've had no problem keeping your pretty white teeth just fine," she said, and glanced down into the water at her hands. "So, we just gonna soak here all day? I'm gettin' pruney."

        "My teeth remain in excellent condition because I clean them two to three times a day," Dirk told Briar. "I also don't overindulge." He looked down at his own hands to see that they too were getting wrinkles from soaking too long. "Perhaps we should get back soon."

"Yeah, or we could always just sit here awkwardly all day with our bits hanging out. I guess," Briar said with a roll of her eyes. "But seriously, Dick, what's your plan here?"

She gave a wave of her arm that encompassed both herself and Alba. "We gonna just have one long camping trip in the middle of nowhere or...?"

        "I would like to get Alba home," Dirk told Briar, "return her to her family, or people that care for her. I imagine that they think her lost or dead, and I feel it's my duty to return her safely to where she belongs." They waited a bit longer for their clothes to dry, then Dirk packed everything up, helped the ladies dress and keep their feet clean in the process, and carried Briar back to camp while Alba followed along. Another uneventful dinner of scavenged vegetables and meat he'd prepared from his recent hunt followed. And when the women had fallen asleep, not before more beratement from Briar, Dirk went about making leather shoes for Alba.
        Her small feet would not need much to cover them, and he had more than enough cured leather to make them. When they were done, he massaged magic oil into them, that would imbue them with an unnatural strength while leaving them very soft, supple, and quite comfortable. The magic would also make Alba's footfalls nearly silent, even when running. Very valuable indeed. Dirk had also treated the patchwork dress that Alba was currently sleeping in, in a similar manner. The garment would turn away non-magical weapons and ammunition, as well as draw in shadows around her, making her harder to spot. With the sun soon to rise, Dirk ventured out to get more eggs and wild vegetables, returning to make another big breakfast for the recovering women. The magic tonic needed fuel to mend their injuries.

Briar woke early, as soon as the sunlight touched her eyelids.

And when she did, she saw that Dirk was gone.

Alba was still sleeping, which worked well for her. The last thing she needed was the girl making a fuss and outing her. The girl would be fine; Dirk was a nice enough fellow and Briar believed he really would track down her family and see her safe. He could just do it without her. Staying near the guy was bad for her health. One, because of the obvious--criminals and do-gooders just didn't mix and he was so damned insufferably honest. Two, because of the crazy shit that he did to her. Like, what the hell even was all that, the stupid handsome prick. Those were things she didn't feel, couldn't let herself feel, and it made no goddamned sense, anyway, when she hated his stupid face.

Nope, it was all too fucking dangerous and too fucking annoying. She needed to get out now.

Biting back her grumbles, Briar gingerly rose to her feet, sucking in sharp breaths of pain and clenching her jaw shut, and hobbled her way to gather up her things. It was an effort to pull on her boots, but she managed. That was all she needed. She would keep his robe, and he could keep her other things, because she didn't have time to waste gathering them up, not when this was going to be slow going.

So with a deep breath as she braced for the pain, she began to walk out of the camp, slowly, carefully, measuring her steps and watching where she put her feet. The pain was almost too much, enough that she had to swallow back lumps of nausea, and she knew if she wasn't careful she'd just tear her wounds open again, but it was a risk she had to take. This time, she wasn't dragging herself along, trailing blood for him to follow. This time she had a bit of a head start.

        Dirk had left before the sun was up, and had intended to be back before it was as well. He wanted to wake the women to the smell of his cooking, but it had taken him longer than he expected. Finding another quail nest that he had not yet stolen eggs from had proven impossible. Luckily he had found some wild chickens and had stolen some of their many eggs. He was on his way back with a sack full of potatoes, sweet potatoes, sunchokes, chives, pole beans, black berries, blue berries, black cherries, and plums. Dirk also had a large hare, and six chicken eggs. It was hustling to get back quickly, but moved more at a trot than a sprint. He was nearing the camp when he was magically alerted that someone had gone through the camp entrance.
        Shifting his burden so he could draw his weapons, dirk crept slowly toward the entrance. He wasn't too far when the boundary had been broken, so it took him only moments to round on it. From the shadow he could see Briar stepping tenderly as she walked away from the camp. She was wearing her boots, but she had none of her other things, and was still wearing the robe he had dressed her in. She probably had gotten up to pee. Dirk moved into the camp quickly placing his sack on the ground near the place he would be cooking, and put a pot of water on the fire to boil. Then he grabbed a spade from in his pack, and a bit of paper and dashed out to catch up to Briar. He was fast and she was so very slow, so it took him only a few moments to catch up. With his magical boots and his natural instinct to remain unseen, he unintentionally snuck up on Briar.
        "I'd be happy to carry you to the brush where I took you to relieve yourself before," Dirk said from just a few inches away from where the poor woman was slowly creeping along, "I brought you a spade and paper as well."

"SON OF A FUCK--!"

Briar hadn't been on her way to tinkle, but she just about pissed herself right then and there when Dirk's voice was suddenly right there in her ear. She jumped, stumbled, and caught herself against a tree, her heart pounding wildly and a cold sweat breaking out on her skin, partly from exertion and partly from the sheer panic of being surprised. Shit, shit, shiiiit--wait, relieve herself? Spade and paper? He...

...He thought she was just heading off to pee?

She turned around carefully, leaned her back against the tree, and crossed her arms over her chest, flashing Dirk her brightest, toothiest smile. "Dirky! My man! Buddy! That's...that's so amazingly sweet of ya! Bringing me paper and stuff! 'Cause I forgot it like a big fat silly! Oi!" She smacked her forehead with her open palm, then yelped as pain spiked through her hand and tucked it back under her arm.

"'Cause wow, yeah, I sure gotta pee like a hibernating dragon, let me tell you. That's why I'm all the way out here. Just...you know...peeing. Heh."

        Dirks eyes narrowed at Briar's strange behavior. Had he really startled her that much? She was behaving a bit suspiciously. She said she needed to pee though, so he handed her the spade and paper, and then swept her up into his arms, making sure not to touch her skin. He walked the few yards remaining to the place he'd taken her to relieve herself previously, and after setting Briar down, dug a small hole in the ground next to the tree for her. He stepped around the other side to give her a bit of privacy while she did her business.
        "I got a good amount of fresh food to supplement the dried goods I have in my pack," Dirk told Briar. While he waited seemed as good a time as any to talk to her. It didn't occur to him that Briar might feel awkward about it. "I even found real chicken eggs, and a plum tree." Dirk stood there for a moment and thought back to earlier conversations they'd had. He was trying to learn to be social, and trying to pick up on social cues. A topic from their first bath together had stuck with him, and he brought up the question again now.
        "Do your tattoos really mean nothing? They seem pretty specific to mean nothing."

Shit, she was so fucked. There was no way he was going to believe that, like...she didn't believe herself right then! Mentally, she smacked herself for getting caught off guard and babbling, but that silk noose of his was still fresh on her mind and he'd promised to fit her with it again if she tried to escape. And so she braced herself, watching his hands nervously for any sign of that damned ribbon--

Until he just gave her the spade and scooped her up into his arms instead.

Dumbfounded, Briar just gaped at him, her face coloring as she was once again lifted like a swooning damsel, like she weighed nothing. It was so fucking awkward, she didn't think she would ever get used to being manhandled, even if he wasn't touching her directly. She squirmed a little, feeling twitchy and still unsure as to where this was going--she was pretty damned sure her intentions were obvious--except...uh...wow.

He actually bought it. Because this was the ol' pee tree. Was he really that dense? Or was he just waiting to drop the other shoe?

Well, she guessed she wasn't being toootally dishonest. Her bladder was full. Eyes slightly narrowed, she watched him dig a hole for her and then go around to the other side of the tree, and she let out a sigh. So fucking awkward. But what else could she do?

Trying desperately hard to pretend Dirk wasn't on the other side of that tree, Briar hiked up her robe and went to squat over the hole, grimacing at the pressure on her feet.

Except now Dirk was talking.

Briar felt her eye twitch. Okay. Maybe if she didn't say anything, he'd shut up. Just don't pay attention. Just piss and be done with it. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, did a mental plugging of the ears and "lalalalala!"--and then twitched again when he just kept going. Now about her goddamned tattoos, which were about the last thing she wanted to discuss.

"Dick! Will you just shut up?!" she snapped. "I can't pee with you blabbin'! Like, this is already fucking weird enough with you close enough to hear me whizzing! There's no multitasking here, Dicky! I already gotta juggle balancing over a goddamned hole with holes in my feet and try not to get it all down my fucking leg so can you just let me piss in peace for fuck's sake! It's like a bloody dam all up in my lady-parts when you're all there and stuff!"

        Dirk immediately felt guilt for causing Briar distress, and he fully intended to be quiet, as soon as he gave her a tip. "The reason I dig the hole so close to the tree is so you can lean back against it to support yourself," he explained. "Then you don't have to squat oddly. I will be silent now."

...Oh.

Well. Now she felt like an idiot.

At least he'd shut up, though, which meant she could pretend he wasn't there. So after adjusting herself so she could lean against the tree, she focused on pretending very, very hard that she was alone and in privacy, because of all the ridiculous things in the world, she just had to be pee shy.

It took a while, but finally she was able to take care of business. She covered the hole when she was done and stood with a groan, her thighs achy. Leaning against the tree, she peeked around it at Dirk.

"Alright. It's safe," she said, and was annoyed to find she was still blushing. And even more annoyed to find that it wasn't all because she'd had to take care of bathroom business in company--but because said company was stupidly attractive, and that somehow made it fifty times worse.

        Dirk gave Briar a little smile when she peeked at him. He stepped to her, and with a quick, "Ready?" had her back up in his arms. The early morning sun shot through the leaves of the trees like arrows of light. Briars face was still a bit flushed and Dirk smiled again at her.
        "You know," he said softly, "I am not the best at social interaction. Perhaps while I care for you, and attempt to curb your criminal behavior, you could help me learn things. Unconsciously I have started to respond to some things I don't consciously understand. For instance, I find your blush makes me feel happiness. Why is that?"

Goddammit!

A fresh blush bloomed on her cheeks as soon as the words left Dirk's mouth, and Briar shifted uncomfortably in his arms and turned her face away to try to hide it. Her blush made him happy? What the fuck? And why was she all blushing like a stupid maiden now? She squirmed, fidgeting, not knowing how to even begin to address that.

"Means you're fucking weird. I don't know!" she grumbled, hunching her shoulders as the heat traveled to her ears. Cradled in his arms, with the conversation veering to awkward places, she couldn't help but remember all the other times he'd made her blush--and that he'd been doing a fine job of keeping her on her toes in that regard. With his hands on her now, their bodies pressed together, it was hard not to remember how he had felt when there had been less between them.

There had still been the barrier of his gloves, of course, but it was the closest she had gotten to feeling another person's skin against hers.

And the way he'd touched her...

She shivered and pressed her hands gingerly against her belly, grimacing at the odd flutter she felt there. Why was she thinking about this now?!

"Means you like torturing me? That you're awful sadistic?"

        Lies and deflecting. Briar seemed to do that a lot, and the blush accompanying it told him that she was embarrassed. The expression on her face and the nature of the lies told Dirk that it was likely a shy embarrassment. He wasn't quite sure why she would feel shy, they were only speaking about his emotions. Perhaps emotions were not just talked about. He didn't understand though, and he needed someone to explain things to him. Since he had Briar captive, Dirk thought it might as well be her.
        "Perhaps there is some other way I can coax you to teach me the social skills I lack," Dirk said to Briar. "I could give you that full body massage that I had promised you during our first bath. I even have an oil that warms to soothe your muscles. I also have some silk gloves I could use to prevent skin to skin contact."

If Briar's face could have gotten any redder, she might have had an aneurysm.

She sputtered in shock at his words, mentally flailing, as her mind shot straight to all the unsaid things that massage had entailed. And that had been with coarser gloves. Not silk! And not with oil!

Utterly mortified, she sank her face into both sore hands and just...hid. Oh dear fuck. Past Briar had been very eager about that promised massage. Past Briar had said a lot of things in the heat of the moment, and she couldn't quite remember what she'd said or if she'd agreed. Past Briar had let Dirk's hands wander quiiiiite a lot more than Current, Sane Briar would ever dream of.

So why the fuck did she hesitate to answer him?

Why the fuck did her heart beat faster and stomach flutter in that almost-queasy-but-not-unpleasant way? Especially when she thought of his strong hands, covered in silk, touching her--

She groaned loudly and shook her head. No! No, no, no, fuck no!

But even as she desperately thought it, what came out of her mouth was a muttered, "What? You that desperate to touch a lady?"

        Dirk once again didn't understand that he was being mocked. This lead to him answering honestly. Which probably was the smoothest move he'd ever unintentionally made.
        "I have never touched a woman the way that I touched you," Dirk told Briar. "There is no desperation, but you are the first woman I have ever wanted to touch."

What.

What?

WHAT?

"WHAT?!" Briar blurted, snapping her head up and staring up at him in wide-eyed, red-faced disbelief, her heart beating hummingbird-fast. Ohhh, this was fucking awkward. And if there was one thing Briar didn't do, it was Feelings Talk. Nooope, that was off limits and Dirk was way too obliviously comfortable with just like...saying shit.

She squirmed, both physically and mentally, hyper aware now of what little contact they were making through her robes, his body heat permeating through the fabric. It was starting to get stifling, making her feel itchy--not literally itchy, but in a "getting under your skin" way that had her feeling twitchy and restless. How did people even respond to something like that?! Was this a thing normal people just out and said?

It wasn't like she'd never had someone give her compliments on the streets, but those were always lewd and insincere, catcalls from strangers. She had avoided any meaningful relationships and tended to disappear when things started growing past the surface level.

On a fundamental level, Briar just didn't know how to people.

"Why?! That's just fucking weird, Dick. And anyway, you kinda are touching me so congrats?! Touching a woman! Good job, Dick, you're a virgin no more!"

         Dirk wasn't sure what was wrong, but something was. Briar seemed uncomfortable, and she squirmed a bit in his arms. He compensated by griping her a bit more tightly, and became more aware of Briar's firm and supple body. Why did touching her elicit excitement in him? Whatever it was, it was new. He'd had little prolonged contact with other humans in a one on one environment. Just the one escort job, and that had been a bit different. All he knew, was that touching Briar excited him, and he wanted to touch her more.
        "What does that mean?" Dirk asked. "What is a virgin? I've heard others joke about it, but I have never heard it explained."

Gods be fucking damned, of COURSE he didn't get it!

"Seriously? What are you, twelve?" Briar scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Wait, don't fucking answer that, I know your age. Whatever. It means you haven't fucked yet. Or been fucked. Whatever's your preference. Why are we discussing this? How do you not know this shit?"

        Fucked. Dirk had discovered that that word had many connotations, many uses, but that the prevalent one had to do with intercourse for pleasure. That was true, he had not had sex. For one, he had yet to even be interested in that. Secondly, from his understanding, that required two or more consenting individuals. He's never been in any situation where that would arise. One thing he did know though, was that sex usually required a certain amount of skin to skin contact.
        "I take it that you are a virgin as well," Dirk said to Briar, "since you are unable to make skin to skin contact with people without great discomfort. Perhaps I can help you learn to control that power. That could be how I earn your teaching of social interaction."

If Dirk wasn't so bloody socially awkward--like, how the fuck did he not know this?!--then Briar might have suspected he was coming onto her. All the same, she leveled a dark scowl at him when he brought up her virgin status. Her mocking him had certainly came back to bite her, and she couldn't help but feel sour. Not only was it just a goddamned awkward topic, but it was a sore spot, too, that reminder that she was fucked up and would never be normal in the most basic ways.

She hunched her shoulders. "Pfffft, yeah right. You don't think I've tried? I was born like this. Ya can't just make it go away. What do you care, anyway?"

        Dirk's expression was not one of amusement. He could understand from Briar's tone that she did not believe that he had any good reason to care. This annoyed Dirk slightly. It was new to him, this feeling of annoyance. There were many feelings he was just starting to understand.
        "I care because it's one of the most basic parts of being human."

Something jolted inside her, small and twisting, as Dirk spoke. That...was not the answer she had been expecting. She wasn't sure what answer she had been expecting, but definitely not that.

She knew he cared. She knew he cared that she was a criminal, and cared not to see her harm anymore people through said criminal activities. He cared about "reforming" her, molding her into a good and proper member of society. Ha.

This, however? This was edging more toward like...caring about her personally?

Another awkward squirm. This was...weird and new. And making weird Feelings stir inside her, feeling she didn't think she liked. Dangerous ones. Soft ones. It had been a long fucking time since anyone had cared about her on a personal level--and some sick, hurt part of her thought that, maybe, it had never even been the case at all. How could it be, when her own mother had--

Briar clamped the thoughts back. Stupid, soft thoughts.

"Oh, so what? It's a fucking human obligation to give a shit?"

        "Haha! Of course not!" Dirk found Briars statement so absurd, he couldn't help but be shocked into letting out an amused laugh. It was not often that he felt the effects of humor. The cultural experience required was not part of his upbringing. "It is human to grow attached to others, and it's a normal human response to care for those you've grown attached to. We have not known each other more than a few days, but I have already grown to care for your well being."

Briar actually jumped, startled both by his laugh and the fact that he even could laugh. He was always so damned serious and earnest and oblivious to her jokes that she'd begun to think he didn't have a funny bone in him--and now it was at her expense.

More startling than the laugher, however, was that it sounded good coming from him--and looked good on him.

Too bad he was laughing at her.

Briar jerked her eyes away from his face and returned to staring at his chest, her cheeks flaming anew. Both at being the source of his amusement, and because he'd just admitted...attachment. Seriously? To her? What the fuck?

She sputtered for a moment, at a loss for what to say, before she finally found her words. "Wha...but...why? I've been a fucking bitch to you! I'm a goddamned thief! You're not supposed to give a shit! What the hell's wrong with you?!"

        "Perhaps I don't understand" Dirk said, pausing in his return to their camp. "Isn't it normal to form bonds of attachment to people you spend time with? Is there something wrong with that? Perhaps I shouldn't feel fondness for a violent person, but I do." He paused, even in carrying Briar, reflecting on himself for a moment.
        "I may not be able to understand the subtleties of complex emotions and social interactions, but the basics are simple. Joy, anger, sadness, fear. These are so simple even I comprehend. I've seen your anger, and understood it. I saw your fear, and I regretted causing it. I see and sense your sadness, a reflection of my own loneliness that I want to understand. Your joy, I have not seen, and I want to. For reasons I don't understand, I want to be the source of it."
        Dirk held Briars gaze as he spoke, and when he'd finished, held it a bit longer. When his eyes broke from hers, he continued on their walk back. There was a nice breeze drifting through the trees.
        "You're also the first person to ever cause the feeling of desire in me," from their conversation Dirk had finally understood the excitement he got from being close to her. He just didn't know what he was supposed to do with that feeling.

Briar's face was a kaleidoscope of expression: irrate confusion, boggled curiosity, stunned silence, blushing bafflement. The only common thread was sheer surprise, first at his simpleness despite his obvious knowledge, then at...at...

Everything else that came out of his mouth!

Her mouth fell open though no sound came out of it, because she found she couldn't find the words--much less breathe. She'd forgotten to do so as her mind went whirling, trying to register everything he'd just spilled, make sense of it. Goddamn him, but it seemed he was trying to give her a heart attack, because her pulse hadn't stopped racing since he'd begun carrying her, and it stuttered a little at his words.

Was he...was that...?

Had he just...

Was that a confession? Was he confessing to her? That he...desired her?

What...

Her lungs started to ache and she let her breath out in an audible whoosh. Her body felt tense, muscles tight enough that she could she was trembling slightly with a weird, giddy sort of energy, her stomach doing that awful twisting thing that wasn't quite nausea but was something more...pleasant? Excited? This...this was way outside her range. She could recognize flirting when she saw it--she wasn't oblivious--but THIS?

"W-wow," was all she said when she could finally find breath to speak. "You just...wow. That...that was sure a lot of words you just went and said." She fixed her stare firmly on her wrapped hands and forced out a laugh. "Boy, you sure picked the wrong fucking girl, though. Pfffft, bad luck, Dick, picking the criminal that can't be touched!"

        "Not being able to make skin contact, and not being able to touch you at all, are very separate ideas," Dirk replied with a matter of fact tone. "I also said that I would help you with your power. I don't currently have magic, since Rit took what he gave me away after training, but I remember the lessons."

...Good point. Because he was touching her now, wasn't he?

Briar hunched her shoulders, staring at her hands even harder. This was...so goddamned awkward. Awkward, yet hopeful, her mind a mandala of emotion, a dozen different thoughts and feelings all woven together into one colorful pattern. Here was a guy--a guy that had whipped her ass and busted up her hands, feet, and shoulders in the process, a guy that was the paladin to her criminal--and he was offering to help her. Help her with something no one had been able to help her with. But then again, no one had tried, or even wanted to, and she had deemed it hopeless and hadn't asked. Didn't even know who to ask.

It was something she had just resigned herself to living with, and she was used to it. It had always been her normal and she knew no other life. But she was also pretty sure someone born without a leg might wish to know what it was like to run, the same way she sometimes found herself secretly wishing for just...touch. To know what it was like to hug someone without fear. To feel a coin's smooth weight in her palm and only that, not all the emotional baggage that might be clinging to it, even if it was just a quiet hum. To just be touched, to feel someone else's skin warm against hers...

Her eyes had wandered, and she startled when she found that she was staring at Dirk's lips, their perfect shape, their smoothness. She jerked her eyes back down. No. Nope, nope, nope. She'd only kissed once, and that had ended in a mess of images exploding in her brain, searing through her skull, and a knot on her head from cracking it against the wall as she fell, before he could catch her.

And then there was the pool with Dirk...

She rubbed at the side of her head, chasing the memory away. "Rit...? You've probably mentioned that guy before but..." She shrugged. If he had, she had already forgotten. "Your teacher? He teach you about this? 'Cause like I don't know if this can be fixed."

She flashed a look up at him and cocked a crooked grin. "That eager to get in my pants?"

        The first time Dirk had heard the phrase 'get in her pants' Dirk had been confused since the woman that was the target of the phrase was in a dress. Eventually, from hearing it used multiple times, and the context of use, he figured it was one of a countless number of ways to say sex. Why were there so many ways to say sex? People everywhere and everywhen all seemed to be obsessed with it.
        "I'm not sure I would know what to do," Dirk said honestly. "Perhaps if we were to explore that sort of relationship, if you wanted to and we're able, we could start with kissing. As for your condition, I don't think it needs to be fixed, you just need to learn to master it, and take control."

Holy shit he was serious.

Of course he was serious. When was he not serious.

Briar sank her face into her hand, ignoring the twinge that traveled clear to her fingertips. "Let's just, uh, start with my condition," she said slowly, strongly ignoring the flood of images that accompanied his words, resisting the urge to glance back up at his face and those lips. Shit. What the fuck was wrong with her?

"How the hell do you control something like this?"

        "Well I can tell you it won't be easy."
        Dirk arrived back at the camp with Briar in his arms, ready to finally make breakfast. Alba was awake and sitting next to the fire with her blanket wrapped around her, watching the water boil. Dirk crossed the camp in a few quick strides and set Briar in her little mound of blankets. He gave her a rare smile before he stepped away to fetch his bag. He reached in and pulled out a little card. It had come from Libra Station, and he was sure it had no real imprint on it for Briar to get a sense for.
        "Take this," Dirk said, handing the plastic to Briar. "While I cook, I want you to hold it and concentrate on drawing out whatever you can from it. I don't know how you do what you do, but this should be so faint, you'll have to dig deep to draw it out." With that Dirk turned toward their future, and that future was food.
        Dirk's cooking equipment was still standing around the fire pit from previous meals, and so he went to quick work. The eggs went into the boiling water, and as they did he pulled a sand timer from his bag and set it nearby, grains sprinkling down from the top. He quickly stripped out of his gear, and donned his apron, as well as the trinkets that would enhance his perception and speed his hands. He first cleaned and prepared the hare, setting its skin aside for later.
        Out of Dirk's bag came jars of herbs and oils and he used them in different combinations to rub different cuts of meat. They went into a griddle or onto a grill, and some he skewered and hung over the fire. Potatoes were cleaned and cut in a blur, sunchokes followed suit, and pole beans were simply cleaned. The sweet potatoes were grated, and after mixing them with various other ingredients, pressed into cakes.
        Everything went into different pots and pans, and they were all moved around frequently. The eggs were taken off the heat when a chime emanated from the sand timer, proof that it was magical. The assortment of vessels would have been too much for any one normal person without magical enhancement. As everything was beginning to come together in their final stages, Dirk pulled the eggs from their shells and cut them in thin slices. The food he began to serve, putting in on plates in an orderly fashion. Sweet potato pancakes, fried potatoes with sunchokes and other vegetables, rabbit meatballs, rabbit skewers, other slices of cooked rabbit, slices of hard boiled eggs, and a bowl of mixed berries for each of the women.
        Dirk served Alba first, and she meekly accepted the tray with her plate and bowl. Then he took a tray to Briar. He could serve her food, and check her progress all at once.

Briar took the card in her gloved hands reflexively--then promptly jolted and dropped it to the ground like it had burned her, remembering what happened last time she'd just accepted some strange thing of his without thinking! Last time it had been the ribbon, and that had ended...badly. Who knew what this weird little thing did!

She eyed it like a viper, waiting for it to do something, but then Dirk spoke and she lifted her eyes.

...Oh.

Had the training begun, then?

"Ooookay," she muttered, not the slightest bit excited about what was sure to be tedious and frustrating, before she pulled off a glove and picked up the card with her bare hand. It was strange, made of a smooth, hard material that was oddly flexible, like nothing she had ever felt before. And as she turned it over in her fingers, she saw strange symbols on it that she found were slightly raised when she ran a thumb over them. In the bottom right corner was a shiny symbol that, when she tilted it, looked almost three-dimensional in the light. The picture moved based on how she turned it. Was it enchanted?

No. It wasn't. Because she could feel nothing on it. No strong vibes, no buzzing energy, no flashes of vision. Dirk was true to his word; this item was wholly unimportant, or at least not handled often enough to imprint. Briar let out a sigh and slouched her shoulders, took off her other glove, and held the item two-handed as though that would give her twice the chances of feeling something.

And then she just stared. And stared. And stared. She also didn't really know how she did what she did. As far as she was concerned, it was not a thing she did, but a thing that happened.

And so she stared. And stared some more. And tried to feel something.

Time passed. The sizzle of frying foods, thunk of chopped vegetables, snap of cracking eggshells, and scrape of utensils on pots and pans were the music she worked to. She grit her teeth, twitching at each sound, beads of sweat gathering on her brow as she concentrated hard. She didn't know how long she stared at that goddamned card, but she could feel her irritation steadily growing, exacerbated by the sound of clanking pans--

And then Dirk appeared near her, and Briar let out a growl of exasperation and threw her hands--and the card--up into the air, where it tumbled back into her lap. "It's not WORKING!"

Dirk set the tray of food beside Briar. He knew she would get frustrated. Most people Dirk saw practice any sort of training tended to have moments of frustration. Her personality was one of action, and so he expected her to get frustrated quickly and frequently. He hadn't had an opportunity for frustration himself. First there was the shock of being pulled from his reality, then there was the food. He was given all sorts of wonderful food, a place to bathe and sleep. His entire world was taken from squalor and a struggle to survive, to all the food he could want and every other need met. So when the training began, he was quick to comply and work hard, for fear he'd be put back in that life.
        "I'm confident you'll get it," Dirk said. He had tucked his silk gloves into the waist of his pants before taking Alba her food. He now slid them on. "I know it will take time, but you're too stubborn to give up when it would mean you would control it, instead of it controlling you." Dirk reached out with his now gloved hand tucking a loose bit of hair behind Briar's ear, brushing his fingers lightly on her cheek in the process.
        "After you eat, perhaps I can help you put the braids back in your hair?"

Briar huffed loudly. It was true; if anything, this exercise didn't discourage her. It just made her pissed. Pissed that something was out of reach, within touching distance, that she just couldn't feel. It was like it was taunting her, and that was not something she could stand for. If anything, she would do it just to prove she could; it was an issue of pride at this point!

Pride, and hope. Hope that maybe Dirk actually could help her? It was the first shining sliver of hope she'd seen.

Still didn't mean she wasn't pissed off and frustrated and going to whine with her every breath.

She started to grumble out a reply, a dismissive "yeah, yeah" or a "whatever", but suddenly Dirk was there, his fingers brushing along her hair and cheek, feathering against her ear, and she jerked to a halt, going stock still. A chill shot down her spine like lightning, spreading out over her neck and shoulders, and goosebumps actually pebbled all along her skin. She squeaked in surprise, unable to articulate--or mentally process!--anything enough to form words, and heat flared in her cheeks. At first, her freezing, her tension, was expectant--expecting a nasty flood of image and sensation--but then...nothing happened.

Nothing but the chills. And those weren't exactly bad.

Surprised, she jerked and touched her ear, where her hair was now tucked, and snapped a look at Dirk. Gloves. He was wearing gloves, different gloves, softer ones.

Oh.

She shivered again and brushed awkwardly at her hair. It...wasn't unpleasant. But it was new. She wasn't used to being touched. Usually went to great lengths to avoid it. Yet Dirk...

He'd found ways to get around that. And she found herself lost. Part of her craved it, soaked it up like a morning flower opening its petals to the sun. It was such a simple thing she'd been denied all her life. And yet...she didn't know what to do with those sensations. They were new and alien and kind of overwhelming and--

Her heart was thumping rabbit-fast. Oh god, and that had just been a platonic touch! Not like...uh...the pool. She took a deep breath, swallowed. "U-uh, yeah. They ain't gonna braid themselves and these hands aren't gonna do it, either. Damn. You're some jack of all trades. Wanna do my nails too while you're at it?"

        "Do your nails? What's that?" Dirk had very little contact with women in social situations, and the process of getting fingernails painted wasn't part of any previous interaction. So he was truly curious about what it was.

"Uh...like, make them all pretty and shit?" Briar said, holding her hands out flat and wiggling her fingers so he could see her short, but surprisingly well kept, nails. She wore gloves almost constantly, so her hands were actually in good condition, if unadorned. She never bothered to paint her nails; it wasn't like anyone got to see them.

"Paint 'em, manicure 'em, soak 'em in oil to make them all soft. All that froofy crap, y'know?"

        "Ah, I see," Dirk said to Briar. "I've seen lacquered nails, but I was unaware of the process. I doubt I have anything that I could use to paint them. I do have oils that could be used to soak your fingers to remove the dead skin, cuticles, and any callouses you may have. You could use it on your feet too, and I'd be willing to assist you with that. While we're at it, I could give you a full body massage."

Briar fixed him with a flat, dead-eyed stare. "It was a joke," she said, and paused.

"...but, I mean, if you're offering..."

        "I put you in your weakened state," Dirk said. "Even if it was to stop your criminal act, I'm responsible. I'll tend to your needs and help you recover. I think this would be good for your health." Briar's hair had fallen from where he tucked it, so Dirk reached out and placed it behind her ear again. "After you eat, I'll help you with your hair, and then we can do your nails and I'll give you a deep tissue massage."
        Dirk left Briar to eat, and went to check on Alba. The girl watched him as he approached and paused in her eating. Dirk could see she was practically breathing her food in. He had plenty more if she wanted more. He didn't need to eat after all.
        "There's no need to eat so fast, and there is plenty more where that came from." The bruises were fading quickly. Without any cuts or broken bones, she was healing much faster than Briar. "Is there anything else you want?" Dirk asked the girl.
        Alba looked passed Dirk to where Briar was now eating her food. Then she looked back to Dirk and said, "Drink." Dirk was glad that she had spoken again, it showed great endurance to be able to interact with a strange man after what the girl had gone through. He went to his bag, pulled out one of his magic flasks, and poured a blue juice into a cup for Alba. When he handed it to her, she looked at it curiously, sniffed it, gave it a little sip, and then after deciding it was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted, downed it in quick gulps. She outstretched her hands, holding her cup out to Dirk. He refilled it, and she emptied it two more times after that.
        "Well I'm glad you like it," Dirk said. "It tastes very similar to peach mixed with pineapple. It's from a fruit called the lukka berry. I have some seeds of the plant that my mentor gave me, but I was told not to plant it until my son turned five." Dirk realized that Alba was looking at him like he was even stranger than ever, and so he decided she'd heard enough.
        "Enjoy the rest of your meal, and let me know if you need anything else."

Another shiver shot through Briar at the contact and made her gasp, more delicious tingles traveling down her spine and making her shift where she sat, suddenly squirmy. She rolled her shoulders stiffly, wincing at their ache, and cleared her throat.

He was really interested in that massage, wasn't he?

And Briar, despite the awkward shenanigans in the pool, couldn't find it in her to say no. Her aching muscles screamed "yes!" But what shouted even louder was her own shameless curiosity. She'd never gotten a massage before. And shit, man, a looker of a guy was enthusiastically offering. Why the fuck not?

She knew she was poking at a line in the sand there, one that could lead dangerous places if crossed.

For now, she was fine to poke at it.

Dirk left to check on Alba, and Briar returned to her meal, eating it quicker than necessary. She was hungry, but she was also more interested in the upcoming pampering. Was this what life was like for regular people? Did they get this excited about a goddamned massage or caress against their ear? It was...weird. But she thought she liked it?

Finishing up a final bite of food, she glanced over at Dirk. "Hey! Got any more of that blue shit?"

        Lukka berry juice was Dirk's favorite. It had a creamy, almost milk like texture, with a flavor reminiscent of peaches and pineapple, but was the color of blueberries. Rit had given Dirk a magic flask that dispensed the juice at no limit. It was not a terrible indulgence. It was a bit high in sugar, as fruit goes, but it was also high in many important vitamins. Dirk grabbed another cup on his way back to Briar, and poured as he walked. The liquid sloshed as he handed it to Briar, a few drops splashing on her bandaged hand.
        "I hope you like it. It's my favorite."

Briar frowned down at the fresh stain on her bandaged hand--a waste of a good drink!--and gave an exaggerated huff that she didn't really feel. After all, Dirk cleaned and changed her bandages frequently, so it wasn't that big a deal, even if it was awkward. Hands, as it turned out, were surprisingly sensitive when someone else was touching them.

She sniffed the liquid curiously, then took a small sip--and her eyes widened at the flavor explosion on her tongue. Peaches she'd tasted, but pineapple? Never. And the combination of the two blended into something sweet and new and intoxicating.

She drained the cup fast--too quick, because she regretted not savoring it once it was gone--and then flashed Dirk an astonished look. "What the fuck kinda fruit is that?"

        "Lukka berry," Dirk repeated. "The fruit has a thick yellow skin, almost like a smooth lemon. The meat is a vibrant blue, with an almost plum texture." He poured more into Briar's cup. The naturally sweet and acidic juice was not too be over indulged in, but two mugs was far from excessive.
        "I have enough to last the rest of my life," and far after of course. The flask was one of many that was filled with something that would never run out. Rit had wanted Dirk to not only survive, but thrive. When you trained someone to carry out the work Rit intended for Dirk, you wanted to ensure your effort didn't go to waste.
        Dirk returned to his place by the fire, cleaning, organizing, and generally keeping himself busy with small tasks as Alba and Briar ate. There were always more things to be done. From tending his gear, to prepping parts of later meals, or even just brushing newly fallen leaves away from the fire. Campsite safety was serious business according to Rit's training. There was no need to hover near Briar. There were always more things to be done.

Enough to last the rest of his life? Some kind of magical shenanigans, she figured. With a shrug, Briar finished off her second helping of juice (and was a little sorry for it, because she probably should have savored it) and then sat back to relax a little, until she grew bored of watching Dirk tend to chores. It was nice for a time; gave her time to rest and digest and be in her own head, to think about her situation and how the fuck she was going to get out of it--and not to mention Dirk was nice to watch.

But the novelty soon wore off. She didn't do long stretches of quiet, and Alba wasn't much of a conversationalist.

"Sooooo, I'm done," she announced at last, stretching her arms over her head and letting out a yawn. "You gonna do my hair and shit or what?"

        Dirk stopped the task he was working at when Briar called out to him. His way of responding was to prepare for the task. Then remembering that verbal communication was important for beings that couldn't read his mind, Dirk spoke up.
        "I'll get everything ready, and then come get you." He had already pulled an aluminum folding chair from his haversack, and placed it in front of a ceramic basin. The chair had come from a visit to Libra Station. Dirk had very little use for it, but he was not one to throw out something that might be useful. The cushions on the seat and back used some future technology that made them amazingly comfortable, and the aluminum was coated in a treatment that kept it shiny, and extremely durable. Next, Dirk put water in a pot on the fire, and then pulled a folding table from his bag next. It matched the chair perfectly. He set it in front of the chair, over the basin. Then he pulled out a bowl and put it on the table. With all the things set in place, Dirk went to pick up Briar.
        "Are you ready?"

Briar watched him work, eyebrows rising as he pulled out various strange items from his bottomless haversack. The folding chair drew the longest stare--was that a silver chair? And how did it unfold like that? A chair made of silver that could bend? Dirk must be goddamned rich, too, if he could afford a literal silver chair.

And then there was a table that...also folded? And was also silver?!

How?

She snapped out of it when he spoke and approached her, and gave him a wary look. "Uhh...sure. But what's with all the fanciness? Whatcha need boiling water for?"

        "I won't let the water actually reach a boil," Dirk said as he gently picked up Briar. He once again cradled her, like a man carrying his new bride across the threshold. He took her to the chair, and gently set her on it. She'd have to turn to bring her legs under it. "Please put your feet in the basin and your hands in the bowl." He reached for the pot with a cloth around his hand, and set it on the ground beside him. With Briar facing him Dirk reached for her hands, with his covered in the silken gloves, and began to gently unwrap her bandages.

Was she ever going to get used to being carried like a damsel? Probably not. But at least this time, she was trying to just relax and not get all flustered about it, with...okay results. Namely because this time it was a quick trip from the ground to the chair, with no extra lingering contact.

Comfortably seated, Briar shifted to rest her feet in the basin and let Dirk take her hands to unwrap--though she jerked them back reflexively at first, until she saw the gloves on his hands. Still, she was tentative, still unused to it, and found herself half anticipating the upcoming pampering, and half wanting to eat her words. She wasn't used to all this...fussing. And she hadn't been expecting him to take her sarcasm so literally. But since he had, she also didn't want to back down. She would not be the first to flinch!

She watched him work, revealing the scabs on her hands, shivering when his fingers brushed against skin--dear gods, were her palms sensitive.

"Sooo...er...is this part of the massage bit or the nail bit?" she asked, more to make idle chatter than anything, because the silence made this more awkward. Besides, she was genuinely curious--she'd never experienced either.

        "I will be massaging your hands and feet, but this is the nail part." Dirk's answers were getting better. He would have originally just answered what was asked, but he was learning that giving a little extra information would help things out. With the bandages off of her hands, the stitches and scabs were visible, and Dirk did a quick inspection. They were healing nicely. A week more and Briar would be able to walk, though she'd still be tender. Dirk pulled a cleansing bead from his bag and dropped it in the bowl, then he poured warm water over Briar's hands. He gently massaged them, careful not to damage or pull on the stitches. As dried blood and flakes of skin fell into the bowl, the bead drew them into it.
         "Soak your hands in this hot water while I work on your feet," Dirk told Briar, as he sat on the ground and began unwrapping her feet.

"Oh."

Honestly, she hadn't realized the "nail part" would be so...involved. She just figured he'd throw some lacquer on and be done with it. Did he even have that stuff? Probably. He seemed to have everything in that bag of his. But those thoughts soon flew out the window as he started to clean her hands.

She winced and tensed, the wounds tender, but the warm water soothed them, as did the gentle massage, and soon pain gave way to a strange sort of pleasure. She still found it difficult to fully relax, however; she was hyper-aware of every touch, and filled with a strange sort of resentment and shame that she liked it. She wasn't supposed to! This was so awkward! Why the fuck was this sending tingles up her goddamned arms!

Then he moved to her feet and she jerked, heat rising to her face at the realization, and lifted her feet up out of his grasp. "Whoa, wait! You mean you're gonna like...rub on them like my hands and shit? Errr, isn't that...kinda gross?"

        Dirk did not understand. That didn't make any sense to him. Why would her feet be any dirtier than her hands. "Why is that gross? I can wash them if you like."

Briar wrinkled her nose. "'Cause they're...y'know...feet."

        "You've been bathing regularly, your feet are wrapped in clean bandages twice a day, and I carry you almost everywhere," Dirk said, peeking over the table to look at Briar. "Your feet are no dirtier than your hands. If it makes you more comfortable, I will wash them as soon as I unwrap them."

...This was true. Goddammit, Dirk, why did he have to be so logical.

"Just...whatever. Alright. Go for it, do your thing, it's not a big deal," Briar huffed, and put her feet back down, feeling a little ridiculous. Especially since it wasn't really about cleanliness at all, but mostly because...

Well, she was just sort of twitchy about all this touching. It especially felt weird with him sitting on the ground with her elevated up, like...weirdly intimate? She was not sure how to process all this!

        Briar's reaction was irrational. In Dirk's experience so far, people were quite often irrational. She had given her feet to him, and so he tended them with care. He gently unwrapped them, pouring warm water over them, the basin catching it, another cleansing bead pulling in the blood, skin, and soap. Washing Briar's feet seemed like an easy solution to her unease, so he didn't think twice about it. When he was done, he placed them into the basin, filling it up with more of the hot water.
        Dirk then pulled his stool over from where he'd done the cooking and sat across from Briar. He lifted her hands out of the warm water they'd been soaking in, and patted them dry with a clean wool towel. Next Dirk drew a jar of salve from his bag, and applied a healthy amount to Briar's stitches. While it was absorbing into her wounds, he took out a dull implement and gently scraped away the cuticles from her fingers. He'd never seen a manicure done, but he knew the importance of scraping cuticles. If they weren't maintained, they could split, and that would be very painful. After he'd finished, he cleaned under and around Briar's nails, and used a small blade to trim them short. A rough stone was used to grind away the sharp edges that might catch or snag in unpleasant ways during combat.
        Nails fully tended to, as far as his knowledge went anyway, Dirk moved onto massaging her hands. The salve he'd spread on her wounds had an anesthetic effect, so he rinsed it off in the bowl and dried Briar's hands again before applying a skin oil. He was careful not to damage her stitches or open her wounds as he massaged the oil into her hands. When the oil had thoroughly absorbed into her skin, he applied a medicinal salve, and wrapped her hands in fresh new bandages.
        Dirk cleaned the table top after finishing with Briar's hands, and put it back into his magical bag. Then he sat in front of her and performed the same process on her feet. Once he was done, he slipped soft rabbit moccasins on her feet and cleaned up.
        "The massage should probably come next," Dirk said to Briar. "Your braids would only get in the way. I'll tie your hair up into a bun so that it doesn't get too oily as I rub you down. Would you like me to help you undress after I get the cot out?"

This was heaven.

Awkward, awkward heaven.

At first, she was tense beneath the wave of sensation, only able to hyper-focus on each point of contact. Her feet were especially ticklish and twitchy, but eventually she relaxed enough to enjoy it, though it was hard to think of or focus on anything else but what it felt like. She tried to distract herself by looking around at the trees and bushes and birds, but that was rather boring, so eventually she settled on watching Dirk work while trying not to be obvious about it.

Because it seemed a good opportunity, while he was all distracted. And he was...pretty. Fucking bastard. It wasn't fair...

By the time he got to her hands, though, it was a bit easier to handle, even if it was...weird. And strangely intense. And really, really awkward to have someone fussing over her so much? She squirmed a little where she sat, restless, torn between enjoyment and wanting to be somewhere else and wishing her mouth weren't so big and her pride wasn't even bigger--but also really loving it?

And loving the results.

Briar was a nail-biter. Not from nerves; her hands were usually covered in gloves which prevented that habit. For practical reasons. When they started getting long, she just chewed them off. They had grown since being bandaged, but Dirk took care of that--and damn. That was about the prettiest her hands had ever looked, even stitched and wounded. No more gnawed edges, no more rough cuticles; they were all...smooth.

She stared at them as he finished and bandaged them, amazed at what a difference a little care made, and only looked up from them when he spoke, her eyes widening.

It felt ridiculous to be shy about nudity after Dirk had seen her naked how many times? And, er, touched her. Yet her pulse still jumped when he offered to undress her and her face went hot. Gods! Would she ever stop fucking blushing?! It was ridiculous. This was ridiculous.

"Uh...I...can probably manage. Er. How naked do ya need me, exactly? Like how 'thorough' is this thing gonna be?"

        "There is no reason to do it less than complete," Dirk replied as he reached into his magic bag and started pulling out a narrow cot. It was of similar make to the table and chair that had come from the far future place known as Libra Station. He had used it rarely, since he only slept when he chose to. He set it out in front of Briar and adjusted the cushion arrangement, these future beds were highly customizable, making it more comfortable for a massage. Dirk touched a side display and the cot wrapped itself in a soft, pliable fabric, that wouldn't cling to Briar or become sticky with contact to the oil he would be using for her massage.
        "You're not wearing anything beneath that robe anyway, so complete nudity is really the only option. Other than your bandages of course."

Anything less than complete. Of course.

She bit her tongue to keep from asking what, precisely, that entailed. Too many questions and she would start to sound like a nervous coward, and it was really only weird if she made it weird, right? Dirk didn't give a shit, obviously. Nudity was whatever for him, and even when he touched her breasts and offered her a goddamned orgasm, he'd done it all very...clinically. Awkward?  Fuck yes. Sexual? Not...really? The guy probably didn't have a sexy bone in his body, come to think of it, and for all she knew he was mentally castrated.

She was the only one making it weird...right?

Holding that thought firmly in her head, Briar watched him bring an entire cot out of that endless bag of his, and yet again it was of a strange and unfamiliar design. With a sigh, mentally kicking herself for opening her fat mouth and being too proud to call her own bluff, she shrugged the robe off before she could think too deeply about it, but held the fabric pressed to her chest once it was off, and sat slightly hunched. Just because he'd seen her plenty before didn't mean she was quite ready to let everything hang out in the breeze.

"Alright. Face down or what?" she asked, voice trailing into a mutter as she fought against the tide of awkwardness. "Focus extra on my shoulders, by the way. They're super knotted. Neck, too. Damn thing keeps me up at night. Easy on the shoulders, though. Y'know. 'Cause ya did a number on them with several sharp pointy objects. In case ya forgot about that, which I haven't. You ever done this before?"

        "I didn't forget," Dirk assured Briar. "Your shoulders are a bit less delicate, and I avoided striking the bones or joints. As for face down, or up, it's really up to you. Where would you prefer I start? You will be both face up and face down in turn." He pulled more supplies from his bag. If one was unaccustomed to seeing the devices, they may be mistaken for implements of torture, but Dirk knew how to use the wooden rods, and the leather prods.
        "And yes, I have indeed done this before. I massage my own muscles, and I have massaged the muscles of different people of different races and species as part of my anatomy studies."

Briar froze when Dirk started pulling out those...instruments...and her eyes went saucer wide.

"What the fuck are those?"

        "These are to assist in the massage process," Dirk replied, and he demonstrated by pressing the round end of a tool into his own arm. "I'll use them to ease out any bigger knots in your muscles."

"...Oh." Briar relaxed again and let out a breath. They had looked like items one might find in the hands of a dungeon interrogator—not that she thought Dirk would do anything to hurt her. But she was already jumpy about contact, so perhaps her mind made them more ominous than they were.

"Right. Hey. Of course. I knew that. I was just testing you, gods."

She hesitated just a moment longer before she finally dropped the robe and quickly flopped belly down onto the cot—and bit back a wince and pained gasp as she caught herself on her hands. Not her brightest idea, but at least it was soft!

"Goddamn...where'd ya get this shit? And why haven't ya pulled it out before? I coulda been sleeping on this all this time!"

        Dirk stepped up to Briar, her nudity only affecting him slightly, and only for a moment. His mind focused on the task at hand and his concentration put any new feelings, like a desire he'd never experienced before, out of his mind. He applied an oil to her skin and began slowly and gently, careful of Briar's wounded shoulders, though they were nearly healed. The wounds had not been as severe as her hands and feet, and the tonic he'd been giving her was magic after all.
        Dirk's gloved hands kneaded Briar's neck and shoulders first. His deft fingers finding her knots and easing them out. Briar's arms were next, her right arm, a bit more tense, he gave extra attention. Down her back his hands slowly worked. Dirk's fingers tracing along her spine, working at tension that was obvious by her posture. At the small of her back he used a wheeled contraption to work out a serious bundle of knots. He was as gentle as he could be, but it required some muscle, and some pain to truly work them out.
        The soft but firm flesh of Briar's round bottom he kneaded like dough, rolling and squeezing. Dirk knew it was an area of the body that could be pleasurable to have rubbed, and so he gave it a little extra attention. He was trying his best to please Briar, though his intentions were non sexual. From there his hands slid around and between her legs, plying at her thighs. Dirk's finger grazed against Briar's vulva briefly as he worked a knot from her inner thigh. The tips of his fingers pressed in under the knot, rolling it out between them. As he moved down her thighs to her calves and ankles, Dirk found her legs knotted up most of all. The relief of losing so many aches in her legs would surely ingratiate him to her. At least he hoped.
        After nearly an hour of rubbing Briar down, Dirk was finally done with her back side. "I know you likely feel like a puddle of goo, but if you'll turn over now, I will start on your other side."

It's only weird if you make it weird, Briar told herself fiercely as she kept her face pressed into the cushion. His gloved hands touched her, and she twitched in surprise, still nowhere near used to the contact—and then he was working his magic, and she melted.

How was it possible to feel both tense and relaxed all at once? His hands found sore, stiff places she hadn't known she had, drawing out muffled gasps whenever he hit a knot. The whole process was...strange. It was wonderful, but it was also painful, and when he attacked her lower back with some strange contraption she whimpered and grit her teeth—but gods, the release was so worth it. Was this what masochism felt like? Because damn, that kind of felt like that's what this was.

And then he was going lower—and Briar repeated her mantra more frantically, even as her blood grew warmer and her pulse picked up its pace in anticipation. It's only weird if you make it weird! Even though he was grabbing at her ass! She bit her cheek to keep silent though she wanted to moan, and pressed her hand against her mouth, swallowing any sound. Gods be damned l, it was bloody Dirk, he didn't have those kinds of thoughts! Right? Pure thoughts! Think pure thoughts! Pure as the driven snow! She held her breath as he worked at her—then let it out in a rush and jolted when he grazed against her vulva.

Bastard! He had to know what he was doing!

It was more infuriating to think that he didn't.

She sucked in a shaky breath and fought the urge to squirm, her face on fire and body a trembling mess—though worse still was the fire that had settled between her legs, which she was awkwardly trying to ignore. And then he then instructed her to turn over, and she couldn't quite contain the small whine.

"If I'm goo now, ain't gonna be none of me left after you're done," she breathed, and after an awkward pause, she turned over. More self-conscious than ever, her body alive in places she wished she could turn off right then, she crossed her arms over her chest to shield her breasts and made sure her knees were clamped together. "You're not even tired? Don't even need a break? Goddamn, even I'm winded after that."

        "I think we've gone over that I neither need to eat or sleep," Dirk said, "but only do so for the pleasure of it." He moved to the head of the table and brought his fingers to Briar's temples, where he began a slow rotation. "You should place your arms by your sides and relax. Your legs seem quite tense as well. If you're covering your bosom for the sake of modesty, I think we're far past that point."
        His fingers went from her temples to her brow and down to the bridge of her nose. They went across her cheek bones and along her jaw line. Dirk massaged Briar's face in a symmetrical pattern, pressing it like putty to be molded. From her face Dirk moved to the sides of her neck and her throat, then to her shoulders and clavicles. Down one arm at a time his fingers pressed and worked out any tensions he'd missed when she'd been face down.
        Dirk soon returned to massaging the upper part of Briar's chest, and moved down to work at her pectoral muscles and breasts. He was more thorough than when he had washed her, rolling and kneading her flesh. The technique was similar to how he'd massaged her butt, using both hands to work her body like dough. There was some tension in the muscles beneath her breasts, and Dirk methodically worked it out. From there he moved down to her tight abdominals, where he found little tension. After a brief touch there he moved to her legs, working the front of her thighs as vigorously as he had the backs.
        It was not hard for Dirk to notice the moisture forming, and puddling, between Briar's legs. He was knowledgeable in anatomy and in the science behind procreation, and was aware of the signs of sexual arousal. Knowing the difficulty Briar had with human contact, he'd already offered to give her physical release. He worked his hands up each of her legs one last time before gently parting her legs and massaging where the thigh met the vulva.
        Knowing such things were generally kept private, he looked over to check on Alba. The girl was gently snoozing, so Dirk quietly asked Briar, "would you like me to assist you with an orgasm?"

If Briar had been goo before, she was soon a puddle under Dirk's hands.

His hands on her face were heavenly, soothing away a headache she hadn't even known she had until it was gone. She relaxed, the initial tension and wariness fading under the pleasure, and she let her arms flop back down to her sides because, well...he was right. Wasn't like he hadn't seen her naked plenty, or, uh, touched her.

And after a certain point, she really didn't care. She knew she should, and that she probably shouldn't be doing this in the first place, because it was a dangerous line—but she found she craved touch now that she'd experienced it, her body greedy for more.

She shivered as he worked down her neck and arms, goosebumps rising, and when he got to her breasts—shit. She bit her lip and grabbed onto the edge of the cot, hands aching in response, but the pain did little to distract from the intensity. She swallowed back her whimpers as best as she could and tried hard to hold still, with minimal success. She squirmed, restless, her breath coming out in short, quick pants through her nose as she bit her cheek to keep quiet. Well, as quiet as she could; soft little whimpers still escaped through her closed lips, hitching in her throat. She felt like she was on fire—in the best possible way, heat rushing clear to her toes, burning between her legs, building.

And then he went lower. And she felt like she could die.

She should stop this, she thought, her eyes flying open with a sharp gasp and hips jerking when he parted her legs and grazed against...down there...shit, shit, shit...her hands gripped the cot tighter, sharp pain lancing through her palms, her body tensing and shuddering and breath held. Hold it together, Briar...hold it to-fucking-gether...

But then even she knew, deep down inside, exactly what would happen when she'd agreed to this massage.

Forbidden fruit tasted so goddamned good. He looked good. And he could actually touch her.

Then he went and asked The Question.

Ohhhfuck.

Briar let her breath out in a trembling whoosh, her face going red. "Wh-what?! Dirk, you fuckin' bastard, what do you fuckin' think?!" She bit her lip, letting out a frustrated sound.

"...don't leave me hanging, dammit."

        It was easy for Dirk to tell that Briar had been enjoying the massage. Her sounds of pleasure were abundant, regardless of how much she tried to contain them. At her confirmation that he pleasure her more thoroughly, Dirk gently parted Briar's legs further. His fingers slid down the part of her labia, opening her lips and gathering the moisture. He brought it up to her clitoris, lubricating the little button. He knew that it was a tight bundle of nerves with a single purpose. Pleasure. He rubbed it gently with his thumb, pushing the hood up as he directly stroked it. Simultaneously he gently slid his longest finger inside Briar, curving it up to meet another bundle of nerves that served to bring pleasure when stimulated. His other hand moved up to massage her breasts. Doing that had been enough to bring Briar to climax in the bath, so adding it in this moment seemed to be a likely way to achieve success.
        Dirk worked at Briar, gentle and steady. He maintained the pace unless otherwise instructed by Briar. All the while his fascination at the act, and at Briar's unique anatomy, warred with his own new, and persistent arousal. Briar's arousal, and pleasure at his hands, was something new, and he found he liked it very much. His own erection seemed to agree.

As soon as she'd blurted the words out, she panicked internally. What the fuck had she just said?! What was wrong with her? True, she had spoken her real desire but...what the hell! Ohhh gods, Horny Briar should not be allowed to speak! Mortified, feeling like she could just die right there from sheer embarrassment, she opened her mouth, about to reconsider as her brain caught up to her body, because dear gods she had NOT just ordered him to...to...to get her off! But then he parted her legs and touched her, far more intimately than ever, and the words sputtered and died like a snuffed out flame.

She gasped, a shuddering sound, and her hips bucked in surprise at the feel of his fingers and the electric pleasure that coursed through her like a jolt. If being touched elsewhere felt intense, it was nothing compared to this. Oh, she had touched herself before, plenty; a girl had to make do, especially when she knew she would never experience another's touch. But in that moment she realized the two could never compare; touching herself was like scratching an itch. This was like...like...

She had no words.

Briar grabbed reflexively at Dirk's arms, trembling head to toe, hardly able to process the sensations bombarding her and unable to control the gasping moans and whimpers leaving her. She squirmed, simultaneously trying to escape and rock her hips into his hand, not sure what to do with those new sensations. And then when he slipped his finger into her, she tensed and jerked, and then her breath hitched on a sobbing moan as he stroked all new areas, her sex squeezing around him. That was something she hadn't explored, and the new feeling of having something inside her was nearly enough to undo her, her gasping moans turning to needy, panting whimpers as she shamelessly held his hand right where it was as though daring him to try to move it away.

Oh gods. Oh gods. This was actually happening. She was letting Dirk pleasure her. And right then, she had zero regrets and zero shame.

"Dirk...Dirk...oh fuck...!" she cried, and when his hand found her breasts—it was far too much. That ever-building pleasure, steadily growing, burst and she let out a soft cry as her body trembled uncontrollably all around him, her hands still clutching his tightly for dear life.

        It was good that Dirk's hand wraps went nearly to the elbow, or Briar's frantic grabbing would have lead to a very uncomfortable situation as her skin touched his. She clutched in pleasure, and he did his very best to maintain his pace and pressure with the new interference. When Briar reached her explosive climax, Dirk kept at it, keeping her at the peak for a while. He then gradually slowed, easing his pressure. As Briar relaxed into less violent trembling, her chest heaving with fast breaths, he slid his finger out of her. He stepped away from her, pulling off the gloves and reaching into his bag for a linen sheet.
        Dirk returned to Briar only a moment later, and as he gently draped the cloth over her glistening body, told her he'd take her to the bath now. "You'll be able to get the oils off your skin and soak away some of the soreness in the hot water," he told her. "Alba is sleeping soundly, so we'll leave her here while I take you to get clean."

Briar was breathless, shivery putty as Dirk pulled away and gathered the linen. As the tremors faded and she began to come back down from her high, she also began to collect her thoughts--just enough to start to feel really, really weird about what had just happened. Especially since Dirk was so...unfazed? He just got up and draped a linen over her like he hadn't just been knuckle deep inside her and done something incredibly, crazily intimate. Done something to her that no one else had.

Dear fucking gods.

She stared up at him and pulled the cloth tighter around her, her face flushed and heart still fluttering. She didn't know what she expected, if she expected anything at all, but for him to just not...say anything about what they'd just done at all, like...was that normal? Was that how it normally went down for most people? Was she thinking about this way too deeply? It was nothing, after all, just another itch scratching, just a bit of caving to impulses. He'd offered, she'd accepted. No big deal...right? He was acting just as he always did.

But now she just felt...weird.

"Okay...uh...like...what the fuck, Dirk," she finally said, and buried her face in her hand. "We just...you just...okay. Was that like...really weird? Did we just make things weird as shit? That was really weird. Yeah. Fuck."

        Pack over one shoulder, Dirk gently, almost tenderly, scooped Briar up into his arms. She seemed to be feeling awkward, but he was unsure why. He had enjoyed the act. Not in the way that she had of course, but it was pleasing to please her. He was always happy to serve others. This had been the first time that it had been in such a manner, and it elicited a slightly different joy, that fit with his now persistent arousal, but it was similar enough. He did find himself wanting to try more different things. Other ways he could touch her to make it even better for her. He'd have to ask if she were willing.
        "Why would it be weird?" The question was genuine. "I understand that our relationship started only days ago, and that the nature of it was quite unusual, but we're consenting adults, and while I'm unsure of your feelings about me, I have grown fond of you, and this arrangement." His words were soft, almost a whisper as he walked out of the camp. Once they were through the magic barrier, he resumed at normal volume. "I'd like to do it again, if that were okay with you. Find other, better ways, of pleasing you. I'll work hard to improve my method."
        The walk to the basin was not long, and when they arrived, Dirk set Briar in a patch of grass. His setup of the bath took very little time, now that he knew his terrain. He then took Briar, linen and all, into the warm water.

Sated and relaxed, Briar was like a doll in Dirk's arms even despite her own awkwardness—and she was also hyper-aware of his proximity, his heat, and the hard muscle she was resting against. He was so gentle with her, but she also knew how rough he could be, and she immediately wanted to kick herself for the shiver of excitement and danger that went through her at the thought.

Goddamn. The hell was wrong with her.

And then he spoke, words that were simultaneously comforting and confusing. Well. At least he wasn't weirded out, but...

What were her feelings toward him? She wasn't even sure herself. Conflicted? Messy as fuck? She was still his prisoner...right? But at times it didn't feel like it. She wanted to run; she bristled at the idea of being kept. But she didn't hate him. He wasn't cruel; if anything, he was too goddamned nice.

And she knew, deep down, that if she wasn't technically his captive she wouldn't be so antsy to escape.

And yet, if she hadn't been captured, she wouldn't have stuck around long enough to figure out she...kind of...liked his company?

And he liked hers?

What the fuck.

And he wanted to do...all of that touching stuff...again?

Improve his method?

Her head was spinning as he carried her into the water, as she tried to make sense of ANY of this—much more her own feelings, though her body liked the sound of that. She sucked in a breath, half from the feeling of the water soaking into her muscles, and half from excitement, because she would have been a filthy liar if she claimed she hadn't enjoyed every second of that.

She would have been a liar if she tried to claim she hadn't cursed her wounded hands, and cursed her curse, for preventing her from touching him, too.

What the fuuuuck.

When she could finally find her voice to speak, she cleared her throat. "How...how the hell do you know this stuff? I thought you were a goddamned virgin."

There. Focus on the subject that wasn't tearing her mind apart. "And just...what are you getting out of any of this, anyway? I can't touch you. Uh. Not that...I was thinking it, just...I don't fucking know!"

        Dirk unwrapped Briar and then stepped out of the water. He assembled the drying rack, and hung the linen sheet on it. He then stripped off his now wet garments, and hung them on the rack as well. He next went to his bag and drew out what they would need to soap and scrub, and pulled on the scrubbing gloves. He stepped back down into the water, and moved to wash Briar's hair.
        "I don't think your touching me is that important now. If it's something that you want, we'll figure it out," he said without elaboration. "I'm confident that you will be able to master your abilities. And then human contact will not be a problem for you." Sudsing Briar's hair gave Dirk an opportunity to massage her scalp. He worked his gloved fingers into her hair, pressing into her skull.
        "As for how I know these things, my education in anatomy was nothing if not thorough. I know all the many places of the body and their purposes very well, but you are correct in that this is my first experience with such an intimate act. I was honored that you would share your first experience with me as well."

Okaaaay, yeah, and now he was naked. Which...he had been naked around her plenty before, and they had been naked together, but now it had a different sort of vibe—and carried a new sort of appreciation, and curiosity. She flushed and lowered her eyes, but not before she got an eyeful of him.

"You, uh, don't care about that?" she said, tilting her head back as he began to scrub her hair. She shivered, pleasant chills running down her neck at the caress of his fingers. Gods. The only thing better than him playing with her hair was...well...what he'd done a few minutes ago. "About being touched? I mean, I'm not complaining, just..."

She shrugged uncomfortably, not quite sure where she was going with that or why it bothered her. "Never mind. Just. Don't read too deep into all this, alright? Like...I'm not gonna complain if you wanna do that again or whatever, don't get me wrong, I just...I don't get you."

        "I'd very much like to be touch," Dirk replied, "but you can't touch me yet, and I'm a patient person." He worked his massage further down Briar's scalp toward the base of her skull. "Before my time with you, I had never experienced these new sensations. I think they're desire and arousal. I want to touch you, and I want to be touched by you. That is normal right?"

Briar sucked in a breath and shivered, rolling her shoulders as the sensation traveled down her back.

"I, uh...yeah? Probably?" she ventured. "I mean, there's a fuckton of songs written about this shit. Bawdy tavern songs, sappy romance songs, all that crap. Pretty much every song ever's about fucking or loving, so...yeah? Sure? I guess?"

And even as she said it, she soaked up his touches, leaning into him to seek out even more as his words echoed in her head. That he wanted to touch her. Wanted to be touched by her. Her heart skipped a nervous beat, a warm flush spreading through her--excitement? Desire? This was so damned strange...and frustrating.

"No fucking clue if we're normal. Pretty goddamned sure we're not, actually. I don't even know what this fucking is. I mean, like...you're my bloody captor. I'm a criminal! Remember that part?"

        Briar's leaning brought her dangerously close to Dirk and he leaned away to be sure she wouldn't touch him. Even so, he could smell her, and though they were using the same soaps, the natural chemistry of her body mixed with them in a way that he found very pleasant. The light shining through the trees onto them, onto the water, and reflected by the water, made Briar glow, and for the first time in his life did Dirk look at a woman and feel awe at her beauty. There had been plenty of beautiful creatures throughout the multiverse and he had an appreciation for beauty of all kinds, but true understanding of the beauty caught by ones own eye was a cultural construct, and Dirk's culture was currently being built from scratch.
        His hands wandered from Briar's hair, seemingly of their own accord, to trace the curves of her ears. Noticing the soapy trail he quickly dipped them into the water, before bringing them back up to trail along her jaw, neck, shoulders. He could see the reaction his touch brought to her skin, and he followed the spreading goose bumps down her chest and back. He began scrubbing her body with the gloves as an excuse to explore the curves of her body, fondling her breasts and sliding his hands down her abdomen. He squeezed at her ass, dipping low in the water guided his hands down her thighs.
        "I know that it's wrong to share these intimate moments with you as your captor," Dirk said, the desire he felt making his voice quiver ever so slightly, "so I must give you your freedom. If you wish to leave I won't stop you. If you stay only to be healed, and then leave, I'll care for you until then." He slowly stood straight again, bringing his hands up her thighs, gently sliding one between her legs. "But I sincerely hope you'll stay. Help me with Alba. I'll continue to help you with your power. And we can explore these new sensations together." As if to emphasize, Dirk gently rubbed Briar's vulva. If he were the type to manipulate, he would have pressed into her clit. This was just a genuine request that she stay, perhaps the first time, Dirk would ever be truly vulnerable.

Oh, gods, he was awful.

Wonderful, and horrible.

It was a good thing she was sitting on the ledge in the pool, or her legs might have given out—even if her feet were healed enough to stand.  His hands in her hair were intense enough, but then when he moved to her sensitive ears, jaw, and neck, she let out a shaky breath that was half whimper. Lower and lower he went, the rougher texture of the gloves creating interesting and contrasting new sensations, and she arched against his hand when he explored her breasts, nipples standing erect. Shit. It was difficult to focus on what he was saying when her body was on fire, alive with bright new sensations, and she had to cover her mouth with a hand to keep from moaning.

Was he...trying to get her all hot and bothered again? Because it was bloody well working and—wait, what?!

Briar's gasp was sharp, trembling, her heart thundering. Had he just...? "You...you're letting me go?" She blinked at him, her eyes hooded with pleasure and lips parted with her heavier breaths. But beneath the desire, there was genuine surprise in her eyes as she tried to process his words, his hands oh so distracting. "Just like that? I'm free? Seriously?"

He was letting her go. Giving her the choice. Giving her her freedom. Was his own desire really so strong he was willing to gamble that? But...why? He had been so keen to "rehabilitate" her before, and now...?

Her head spun, even as her breath hitched when he gently rubbed between her legs. She bit her lip and slowly parted her thighs to give him more room to work, and though there was no doubt his touch was affecting her, she was happy just to be caressed. Oh, she wouldn't say no if he wanted to do more, and if it weren't for the water she would have been quite slick—and that wasn't all from his touch. His words pierced straight through her, making her blood run hotter. He was letting her go...

But hoping she'd stay of her own volition. Not as a prisoner, but as...something else. Begging her, practically.

She held his eyes, swallowed hard. "Maybe...maybe I'll stick around a little longer," she breathed, and boldly guided his other hand back to her breasts. "You're making a, uh...convincing argument right now."

Briar's less than subtle coaxing was more than enough to make it clear she wanted more, and Dirk was ready to comply. He was careful to be gentle with the coarse gloves, fondling her breasts with one hand while the other delicately rubbed her vulva. He pressed his thumb against her hood, stimulating the clit beneath without directly touching it with the rough fabric. He dared not slide it inside her, where she was truly sensitive.
        "Careful not to grab my arms like earlier," Dirk murmured in his concentration, "that would not end well." The erection between his legs was hard and pulsing with blood. He was even more curious about sexual release, and though he was in no rush, he let Briar know. "Whenever you're ready to try intercourse, I'm more than willing to try it with you, even if I may not be the best at first."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Briar had to ask herself, yet again, what she was doing.

He had let her go. So why wasn't she going? That would be the smart thing to do. That was the Usual Briar Reaction. Get the hell out, avoid attachments, live her life free. People were awful, couldn't be trusted. It was safer that way. Safer to be on her own, living life how she pleased, away from those that could hurt and use her. Because that's all people did, right? Used each other until there was nothing left, then tossed them when they were bored. Wasn't she doing that now? Using Dirk?

Was that what she was doing?

Dear gods. Somewhere in the past few days, she had made a dangerous mistake, and now here she was, naked with her legs spread for him, encouraging him not to stop. Wanting more. Shivering hard at his offer, at the possibility--

What the fuck.

A brief flicker of shame shot through her unbidden--she really shouldn't be doing this--but it was a ghost from her past, stubbornly trying to have power over her. She sucked in a trembling breath and fought it off, grabbing at the edge of the ledge so she didn't grab onto him, and shifted her hips restlessly. Pleasure drove the feeling away, made her itchy for more; the contact was wonderful, if not as direct as she wanted, but it was enough to keep her burning. She whimpered, trying hard not to squirm too much; his fingers were exactly where she wanted them and she didn't want him to lose it.

"...Do me a favor and never use that word again," she panted out between soft moans, cracking an eye open to shoot Dirk a mock glare. "'Intercourse'. Just say 'fuck' like everyone else."

She shuddered, eyes fluttering shut, breathing only growing quicker. "H-hate to break it to you, though. Last I knew, that involved a lot of skin contact."

        Dirk continued to work at Briar. He kept his pace and pressure as steady as possible. His desire to please her was a strong motivation to do this right, and he made mental notes of the way she adjusted herself to get the angle she wanted. Next time he’d know just where to touch her, and how.
        “Normally you’d be correct, but I have contraception from the future that creates a barrier around my genitals so they don’t actually touch yours,” Dirk explained. "If we were fully clothed and I used that, I could,” he hesitated before saying the word, somewhat awkwardly, “fuck you.”

Briar was far too distracted by what Dirk was doing to her to focus on his mention of "the future", but she did catch the rest of what he said. The gist, at least. She moaned breathlessly, his adjustment working all too well, his steady pace and pressure building the pleasure. It was more gradual than when he touched her directly, but it was still intense in a different way--a slow burn that she could feel building, creeping up on her, unlike the others that had crashed over her like a wave.

"Oh...oh fuck...that's...that's interesting," she gasped, her body tensing and eyes fluttering closed, her breath catching when she wasn't unknowingly holding it. They...could do that? Oh fuck, indeed. She didn't quite understand all he said, what "contraception" meant or what this "barrier" was--how did that even work? She opened her mouth, wanting more details--she had a lot of questions about that--but all that came out was a whimper as her pleasure spiked.

And his words alone, and the imagery they produced, had certainly stoked that fire all the more--enough that if she could breathe enough to speak, she might have begged for it as lust overrode logic.

She arched sharply, grabbing at his gloved hand with a sharp cry, and squeezed hard despite the piercing pain as her body tensed and trembled and flooded her with warmth.

        Dirk felt satisfaction at bringing Briar to another orgasm. He felt confident that he had learned a thing or two, and would do an even better job the next time. Once Briar's spasms ceased, he gently helped her dip her head back and rinse the swiftly flattening suds from her hair. He'd seen affection given by other people and wanted to try it for himself. This seemed an appropriate time for such a display.  Dirk kissed Briar atop her head, her hair protecting her from the skin contact. He gave her what he thought was a reassuring smile, and idly tucked loose hair behind her ear with his gloved fingers.
        "Yes. With condoms I can fuck you," Dirk said it much less awkwardly the second time, "and there won't be any skin to skin contact."

Briar was still dazed and basking in the afterglow when Dirk...did something odd.

What...? Did he just kiss her?

Briar blinked and jerked her head up, a bright blush darkening her already flushed cheeks. Whoa, no, that had definitely been a kiss. Atop her head, but still a kiss. And then that smile. She stared at him, eyes saucer wide, her heart thundering in her ears for a new reason now. Maybe it was strange, to be so flustered by such a simple, chaste thing but relatively unconcerned about sex. Oh, she was flustered about that, too--nervous, even--but for different reasons:  it was new, and her body was unused to the contact, and she didn't really know what the hell she was doing. But it felt good. Felt amazing.

Felt like a giant "fuck you" to her past, a fuck you to being untouchable, of being "pure", of being held to so many restrictions, so much shame.

So many things forced onto her for so many years of her life.

She had a chance at normalcy.

But kissing. Kissing was different. Sex didn't have to mean anything, after all. It could just be about the experience.

What did that kiss mean?

"Whoa, uh...you might wanna slow the hell down there, Dick," she said, voice low, awkward. She dropped her eyes, face on fire, and gave an uncomfortable shrug. "With the kissing, I mean. That's like...married people shit. I don't think we're on that level so, uh..." She cleared her throat, trailing off.

"So, uh...anyway. What the hell's a 'condom'? That the barrier thing? How's that work? How're you supposed to feel anything with a barrier in the way?"

        "Noted, no kissing until marriage," Dirk said. "I thought kissing came before sex, so I was trying make up for doing things out of order. I will abstain from that until you let me know you want me to." He stepped away from Briar then, going through the quick, methodical process of washing himself. His skin glowed in the late morning sun, as he stood after rinsing away the soap.
        "Condom is the name of the barrier that goes around my erection," Dirk explained. "It's very thin, but very durable, so that I will be able to feel all the fucking without direct skin contact."

"...Yeah. Something like that," Briar said with a slight wrinkle of her nose. She was pretty sure marriage wasn't an option for her, but...still. Kissing was complicated. That had meaning and shit. At least, that's what she'd heard, and that was what she'd seen, not that she had a great understanding of how love and affection and sex worked.

She hadn't exactly grown up with a great model for that.

Resting back in the pool, feeling relaxed and boneless, she watched Dirk through hooded eyes as he went about washing himself. Though he was quick about it, she still enjoyed the sight, the way the light glanced off the angles of his body, the way his muscles flexed when he moved. She chewed at her lip. This was...the strangest few days she'd ever lived, there was no doubt about that. How the fuck had she gone from wanting to bash his head in, to wanting his skin against her skin? It was odd to think that at one point she had hated him, even feared him, and now...?

Stupid goddamned handsome Dick. Damn him. And damn her for...whatever the hell it was she was feeling.

"Oh," she said to his explanation, and swallowed. "So, uh...you gonna get that thing or what?"

Dirk paused in his washing. "Do you mean now?" he asked Briar.

Briar arched an eyebrow. "Did I stutter?"

        Dirk stepped out of the water, went to his bag and pulled out all the things he would need. He pulled on a long sleeved linen shirt, thin linen pants that laced in the front, and then began reading the directions on the condoms. They seemed simple enough to use, and mentioned that new technology made them even effective in water. He didn't know the science behind it, but he figured that was a good thing. Dirk grabbed the thin silken gloves from the drying rack and pulled them on. Then he pulled a condom from the dispenser, and put the dispenser back in his bag. Returning to the water, Dirk stepped up to the ledge as he pulled his erection through a small gap in the front. The condom was easy enough to roll down his cock, and he made sure to tuck it inside the linen pants, leaving no gap for skin to touch.
        "We'll have to be careful of my feet, neck, and face," Dirk said, tossing the rough gloves to Briar. "The rest of me is covered, so it should be safe. How do you want to be positioned?"

...well, he sure moved fast. She hadn't known what she had expected—maybe to call his bluff? Not that he ever bluffed, but...

Briar watched him work, and could have laughed that he was actually getting dressed for the purpose. Of course, he had to, but it was still kind of hilarious how backwards they were—and kind of disappointing. It was a shame that he had to cover up when she would have liked to see him, much more touch him, but...they would cross that bridge later. (Holy shit, was she actually thinking about a later?) As it was, she was just happy this could happen at all.

She cocked her head curiously when he pulled out a small wrapped item, studied it, and then opened it. Was that what he was talking about? Just a bit of material that covered himself? Huh. And then her eyes dropped down as he used it, taking in the sight of his erection, and her breath hitched. Under the water, she hadn't seen him, and though it wasn't the first time she had seen him aroused, it was the first time she had seen him fully hard.

Were they...all that big?

And was she really doing this?

This was crazy.

She barely knew him.

Maybe she shouldn't.

But...gods. His touch was addicting, now that she'd experienced it, and she only wanted more.

She took the gloves he handed her, eying then curiously for a moment, and then slipped them on. Shit. This was actually happening. Was there something wrong with this? With her?

She shoved the doubt away, even as her heart drummed loudly, her breath coming shallower.

"Uh...hell if I fucking know," she said, but her voice was soft. Nerves blended with excitement, creating an interesting mix, because she had no idea what to expect and wasn't used to feeling so awkward. All she knew was his fingers had felt unbelievable, so what would his cock feel like? "Probably laying down? Out of the water? I don't want the whole damned lake, you know..." She made a crude signal with her fingers. "Going up there. Shouldn't I be on my back? Isn't that how most people do it?"

She was babbling, she realized, and her blush darkened as she clamped her mouth shut.

        "I don't think lying on the rocks will be very comfortable," Dirk said. "Why don't you sit up on this portion of the ledge," he motioned a few feet from Briar, "where there is only a step below? Better yet why don't I move you there?" He stepped up to Briar, slid a hand under her, and one behind, and lifted her to him. Her open legs wrapped around his waist reflexively, and her now covered hands grabbed at his neck. His erection was pressed between them, the condom wrapped dick rubbing the lips of her pussy as he carried her the single stride to the right.
        Dirk gently set Briar down on the ledge as he stepped up onto the low shelf that had formed in this part of the basin. His throbbing cock was almost perfectly aligned with her slit. It would make the thrusting effortless.
        From Dirk's knowledge of anatomy, and his minor exploration of Briar's body, he knew that he wouldn't fit inside her easily. He also knew that as he had worked her toward climax during the massage, her vagina had relaxed and expanded, making it easier to move his finger around inside her. So he went to work. Her legs already spread open before him, Dirk gently started rubbing Briar's clit with his thumb. Her grip on his shirt tightened as he slowly slipped a finger inside her. He didn't work her too vigorously, as he didn't want her to climax before he'd given her what she'd asked for. Not long after working that finger into Briar, Dirk slowly slid in a second one. Then he coaxed a third one in. With each addition, her grip on his shirt became more fierce and he feared she might tear it.
        After a time, Briar was moving to the rhythmic motions of Dirk's hand, when he stopped. Her elasticity seemed well along, and so he decided to move on with the next step. He straightened up, and began rubbing his dick between her lips. He nudged it against her clit, eliciting shivers from her, before he slid it back down to the opening. The self lubricating condom, and Briar's dripping wet pussy would provide all the moisture he'd need to slide into her. He lifted his eyes to hers and asked, "ready?" He didn't wait for her answer though. He slowly and gently began sliding his rock hard cock into her. He'd pause, pulling back and then sliding a bit further. Slow and gentle. Thrust. Pull back. Slow and gentle. Until finally his pelvis met with hers.

Dirk lifted her, and for the first time she felt his cock grazing against her, and her blood flowed hotter. And when he finally set her on the ledge, she thought he just intended to take her then and there. She bit her lip as she watched him, hands still clutching him--and then he surprised her completely.

She was already aroused and begging for it, but it seemed he was keen on teasing, and she wasn't going to complain about that. She gasped when he found her clit again, rubbing directly this time, and when his finger slid inside her again she let out a soft cry and clung all the tighter, her imagination only making her slicker. It felt amazing, so different, the combination of him stroking inside and outside making her squirm and moan--and then she felt a small stretch when he added another, filling her, only intensifying the pleasure. "Oh gods--!" she cried out as he worked her, and wondered if this was what it would feel like when he took her, only better.

And then she gasped and jerked when she felt a brief pang of discomfort as he slid in a third finger, but it was fleeting and soon forgotten. Soon she was crying out in earnest, her breath hitching on sobbing moans as he worked her, the pleasure building and spiking until she was moving without even thinking, hands curled tightly in his shirt as she rocked her hips. She was off beat and unpracticed, but it still felt even better when she moved. "Dirk...gods, Dirk...!" Her words escaped her, her body tensing, but she wanted to beg him to take her, to stop teasing her with his fingers and get the hell inside her.

And then he stopped, leaving her a panting, trembling mess just a few strokes from the edge.

Another time, and that would have frustrated her, but then she sucked in a breath when he began to rub his cock against her, and she bucked her hips against him with need, whimpering and jerking when he rubbed her clit. Her heart beat wildly, loud enough she thought he might be able to hear it, and then she felt him settle against her sex. She met his eyes, flushed and breathless, and opened her mouth, on the verge of begging him to fuck her--

But she never got a chance, because that's when she felt him begin to push inside her, and her words failed her completely.

She cried out in surprise and clutched at his shirt, her body going taut and tense. She didn't know what she expected; his fingers had felt amazing, even if the third one had been pushing it, and this? Well, his cock was quite a bit thicker than that. She hadn't expected discomfort; she hadn't ever really talked to anyone about this, hadn't really had any female friends—much less friends at all. But even slow and gentle, that initial thrust hurt, her body stretching around him, and she dug her nails into him through the fabric of the gloves.

"Oh...fuck...!" That was only the beginning. He slowly worked himself into her, a little at a time, and Briar jerked her hips in pain, covering her mouth to muffle her whimpers. Her eyes watered, and she clenched them shut to hide it. Shit! She knew he was big, but she hadn't expected it to hurt--and though part of her wanted to stop him, the other, curious part of her let him continue, fascinated despite the pain as she felt him slide ever deeper. Maybe she just had to go with it. Get this part over with. Maybe it would get better.

Finally, he stilled, and she let out a shaky breath and stayed frozen and tense, not daring to move. She could feel him deep inside her, and he felt impossibly big, her sex sore and stretched and stinging. She sucked in a deep breath, trying not to panic and trembling as she clutched him--and feeling stupid for that pang of fear. She'd endured greater pain than this, but she'd rarely ever felt so vulnerable. That was also unexpected.

"Hold up," she whispered, lifting her eyes when she felt she had gotten herself mostly under control, though her throat still felt tight. "It, um...it kind of fucking hurts. Is that...are we doing this right? Is it supposed to?" Oh, fuck. Maybe she was broken. Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she really wasn't allowed this after all.

        "Do not panic," Dirk said reassuringly. "I don't know much about the act itself, or how it's performed, but I do know about bodies. I'm large, you're small, and this is your first time. This is why I didn't just put it in right away. I anticipated that your body would need to be prepared and even then you would need to adapt. Slowly lean back a bit, try to relax. I won't move it much."
        As Briar leaned back slowly, Dirk leaned back as well. He brought a hand to her breasts, and the other down to find her clit. He fondled her and rubbed her, trying to use pleasure to distract and relax her. The condom, with its advanced futuristic design, was renewing its own lubrication, as well as releasing chemicals that would react with Briar's biochemistry and enhance her pleasure. Dirk moved his hips only barely. He watched his partner, reading her body language and facial expressions, preparing to stop if it was too much for her.

Sucking in a breath, Briar nodded with a quiet, "Okay," and carefully leaned back, hands still clutching at him. Some of the panic faded at his words--at the assurance that this was normal, something normal enough he'd even anticipated it, and he didn't seem worried about it at all. She wasn't broken. Okay. Good. His own calm was enough to soothe her and she relaxed a little, though she was still breathing too fast. It was difficult to relax completely with so many new sensations coursing through her, and the sheer rush of what they were doing.

Dirk touched her again and goosebumps pebbled her skin as she shivered, her back arching to open up her chest and encourage his exploration of her breasts, her legs squeezing against his waist as he found her clit. That soon had her moaning, and she found she wanted to move, to buck her hips into his, but she held as still as she could, still nervous of him inside her. Nervous or not, though, it was certainly helping, pleasure chasing away the discomfort, stoking the fire once more, and soon it was becoming increasingly difficult to relax--but not in a bad way. She wanted to squirm, to curl into him and hold him tighter, her toes curling and head tilting back as she felt that familiar explosion slowly building.

And then when she felt him start to move--

She gasped sharply. It was a tiny movement, and there was still some pain, but beneath it there was also spark of pleasure. Enough that she found she cared less about the pain, and more about chasing that new sensation. She curled her legs around Dirk tighter, pressing him in closer, and grabbed at his shoulders as she looked up into his face in surprise, face flushed.

"Oh...oh shit...that's...that feels good," she breathed, eyes wide with wonder--though they soon fluttered shut on a wave of pleasure, a soft moan gasping out. She shifted her hips, rolling them experimentally, and shuddered powerfully as she squeezed around him. Without pain as a distraction, she could truly feel him now, filling up every inch of her--and gods, there were no words. She found she wanted more. Wanted him to touch every part of her, inside and out.

"H-how...how's it feel for you?"

        Briar's moans and squeaks and other sounds of pleasure were exciting for Dirk. It meant he was doing it right, that he was pleasing her. His own physical pleasure was also wonderful. That initial entry into her had been beyond imagining. His small movements now, and Briar's excited rocking, stoked a growing pleasure. Each small thrust filled his body with a need to explore it further. He was chasing that sensation while trying to remain gentle.
        When Briar asked how it felt, he wanted to explain how it was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. How could he not know about this. Well he knew about sex, and the biology involved, and the various reasons for partaking in sexual intercourse. He just didn't know it was going to feel so good. There was only one thing he could say.
        "It feels amazing."

Briar actually laughed, short and breathless and cut off by a shudder, but that was just...so like him. Ever eloquent with a way with words, and still so calm. She had no idea how he was maintaining his composure like this, when she felt two steps from losing control.

"Yeah, sounds about--a-ah! Sounds about right...oh shit..."

The pain was just a ghost now, lingering in the background but easy to ignore as the pleasure only built, dwarfing it. But as the pleasure built, and her desire with it, she found this wasn't enough. At first, his slow, gentle movements had felt overwhelming, too much for her to handle, but now they felt teasing. She wanted more, felt restless and antsy, and she bucked her hips against him more urgently--but even that wasn't enough. Her body had adapted, the sensation of him inside her no longer an invasion, and the chemicals in the lube, unbeknownst to her, had certainly helped things along.

She let out a soft, needy whine. "Dirk...fuck me," she breathed. "I think I'm okay, so just..." She rocked her hips, shuddering against him. "Fuck me..."

        "I am fucking you," Dirk replied with a little confusion. Then Briars bucking and the look on her face at his words snapped together, and he understood. "Oh, okay. Let me know if or when to stop." Briar didn't want his careful gentle thrusting, she wanted to feel the length of him truly driving into her. He didn't take off at a sprint immediately, increasing his pace gradually. It didn't take long for him to work up to a pace that had him thumping against Briar in a way that shook her entire body.
        That building pressure, the growing pleasure, was intensifying quickly. If not for the condom, and the chemical that lessened his sensation, Dirk would have already exploded. As it was, he was growing to close to his climax, and he was resisting it. He wanted Briar to achieve her orgasm first. "This is so amazing," Dirk said breathlessly. "I hope you'll let me do this again."

It was a good thing Dirk got it, because  now was not the time for endearing cluelessness! She shook her head, flicking water from her hair, and slid her hands down his back, then further to grip his ass through his clothes. "Don't stop," she panted. "Don't you dare fucking stop."

Her breath hitched as she felt the change in his pace, even a small increase drastically noticeable; her body was hypersensitive and still sore beneath the passion, and she yelped and tensed at first before she again relaxed, each stroke making the next easier, more pleasurable. Soon he was driving into her, his body slapping against hers in a way that made her face heat, but right then she hardly cared as she held onto him, her soft moans and whimpers rising to sobbing cries as his pace quickened, each stroke hitting that spot that his fingers had teased and making her tighten with pleasure. Oh gods, she was glad they were secluded—she didn't know such sounds could come from her mouth, but she also didn't care enough to try and control them.

And as his pace grew, and the pleasure and heat spread from her core clear to her toes, she was soon beside herself. Her cries rose to screams, her hands clawed at his clothes, and she writhed against him, his thrusts a little painful in their depth and power, and yet it felt too good for her to mind. She was breathing too fast, hardly able to draw air between cries, and her head spun from the lack of air—but gods, it was too good, and she never wanted it to end, her every nerve alive and on fire, her body trembling like a bowstring pulled taut. It was too much, too overwhelming, but she wanted more.

Wanted everything he could give her.

She couldn't answer him, but she hoped the answer to his question was obvious.

"Dirk...oh gods, oh gods, I'm—! Oh fuck!"

She cut off with a sobbing moan and clung to him like a vice, her body shuddering powerfully against and around him. It was intense, far more intense than what he had given her with his fingers alone, and for a moment everything went white. She gasped for air, grabbing at his arms, squirming and trembling and crying out between panted breaths, hardly knowing what to do with herself or the sensations bowling her over. It didn't seem like it wanted to stop, and it was almost too much, but all she could do was cling to him and try to breathe.

        It was good that Briar reached climax when she did. Dirk couldn't hold out any longer. He struggled to continue thrusting as he achieved orgasm, his cock exploding from the pleasure. His entire body trembled, shivers of gloriousness spreading through him. He pulled Briar in tight as his dick spasmed inside her. Dirk finally came to a stop as the pleasure became too intense, nearly collapsing against his lover. He was breathless. He barely remembered to keep his skin from touching Briar's as he leaned forward.
        "I didn't realize something could feel so good," Dirk said in amazement. "Just wait until we get better at this."

Breathless and shivering, Briar clung to Dirk and struggled to just breathe. For a few moments she couldn't speak, could only bask in the new sensations and stare up at Dirk in wonder. Had he just...come? Was that what just happened? Because he suddenly stopped, and she had felt...something. His cock had felt stiffer, and then like it pulsed, and she could still feel occasional twitches that made her breath catch.

When she could finally form words, and no longer felt like she was going to collapse, she let out a hoarse laugh, her voice a bit raw from her cries. "Oh gods, it gets better? Well, fuck, sign me up. That was...shit. You sure you were a virgin? I kinda don't believe you. Goddamned liar."

Curiously, she glanced down between them where they were still joined, though she could feel him softening. She shivered again, shifting her hips carefully, the soreness starting to creep up on her now that the high was fading. "Did you, uh...get off?"

        Dirk wasn't fully hearing Briar as she spoke, and he mistook the words "get off" to be a request he remove himself. Only moments later did the true meaning of them click in his brain. He had pulled away from her, and being new to sex and condoms, he didn't hold on to the filled contraceptive device as he removed himself from inside her. For the most part it stayed on him as he pulled out, but Briar's tightness, and his slow deflation, allowed for it to loosen quite a bit. The trapped semen was visible to both of the young lovers, and too slowly Dirk realized that it was falling off. It fell, splashing into the water, the ejaculate dispersing and then being drawn into the magic bead that sat at the bottom of the pool.
        "Well, I suppose you were able to see that yes, I did climax. I must say it was the most pleasurable experience I have ever had." Dirk reached for the now empty condom, but the magic bead whisked it away judging it to be trash, now that it was no longer in use. It swirling away removed any distraction from in front of Dirk and he focused back on Briar. She was flushed, and sweat glistened on her body. She was still healing from the wounds he'd given her, and her body didn't have the energy it would normally, so her breathing was heavy. The sun sprinkling through the trees, shadows of leaves dancing across her skin, it was like living art.
        "Wow, you're beautiful." Dirk said the words without any thought, his eyes wandering over her, taking her in, he found his arousal, and his erection returning.

Briar shuddered when Dirk pulled out, and was left with a strange sense of emptiness—and more soreness, now that she was no longer in the throes or passion. Curious, she glanced down, and saw the barrier pull free, full of a milky substance that splashed into the water with it.

Oh. So that's what it looked like? She'd heard it called "seed" or "cum" plenty, and knew men...released it. She'd heard plenty of crude jokes around the taverns she frequented. But she'd never really understood, and had never asked for an explanation. Like many other things in her life, she hated seeming naive or unworldly, and so she just pretended like she knew. Dirk was her first—and he was also the first person she'd admitted her inexperience to. (If only because he figured it out on his own.)

Well. That was another mystery solved.

She looked back up at Dirk and gave a smug, if tired, smile at his words. She wanted to make a witty comment, like that of course it was the most pleasurable experience he'd had—she was involved. But then she paused, noticing that he was staring at her, and she blinked. His expression was...odd, a sort of look she wasn't used to receiving and wasn't sure how to categorize, but it made her suddenly self-conscious—another thing she was unused to. Did she have something on her face? Was her hair sticking up? She was still gripping Dirk, hands resting on his shoulders, but she lifted one to check her hair, just in case.

And then he spoke, and the blood rushed to her face.

"W-what?" She snapped a look back to his face, and her blush darkened. She had been called a lot of things in her time. She'd had men holler at her on the street, had folks at taverns flirt with her. Her family had exalted her, showered her with praise. Though those had never exactly felt like compliments, she wasn't insecure in her looks.

But...that was new. Not just the words, but the way he said them. The way he looked at her.

She floundered, her mind blanking out for a moment as she tried to process that, internally flailing because...what the hell. How was she supposed to respond to that? Catcalls she could handle. Affection? Awe? (And not the awe of her "family", which she was glad to leave behind.) She stared at him wide-eyed, heart skipping a beat, breath stilling. What the hell. What the hell.

"Uh, yeah, I know," she finally said with a shrug, and reached up to tangle a glove-clad hand in his hair. Subject change! Quick! "You're not so shabby yourself. So, we're gonna do that again, right?"

        "Right now?" Dirk was surprised that Briar wanted to do it again so quickly. He'd definitely enjoyed himself, but he wasn't sure he could do it again. He looked down at his now returning erection. Well perhaps his body had its own opinion of what was possible.
        "I'll get another condom if that's what you want. I think my opinion on the matter is visible."

Er. Well.

Briar had meant to distract Dirk, to get him away from what was a very, very awkward subject for her. Sure, she wanted to have another go, but she hadn't necessarily meant right that instant. She was pleasantly tired, and she was also sore. With the pleasure faded and her body in recovery mode, she could truly feel how raw and tender he'd left her, and the thought of him fucking her again so soon made her bite back a wince.

But she never had been good at backing off once she'd talked big. And she couldn't deny that she wanted him, and that the sight of him growing wasn't making her shiver in all the right ways. She bit her lip, torn, already imagining his touch on her skin--and that decided it as she let out a shaky breath and slid a hand down her thigh.

"Only if you think you can handle me," she said with a wry grin.

        Dirk could feel some slight soreness in his erection from his ejaculation, but Briar’s eagerness to go again, aroused him further. He may not have known how to properly respond to these stimuli, but his body did. Biology was great that way. He moved to get a new condom, and he quickly opened it and placed it on his renewed erection. He returned to Briar, and gripping the base of his cock put the pulsing tip against her still quivering slit.
        “Are you ready?” Dirk asked as he slid his cock gently up and down Briar’s lips.

Gods, she could probably come from that alone if he kept it up long enough. Briar let out a shivering sigh, hips twitching as his cock slid against her, teasing and building the anticipation once more, and she hooked her legs around Dirk's waist as though to trap him there, daring him to pull away. Her hands gripped his shoulders again, curling into the fabric of his shirt. Her entire body likely to be sore by the time they were done, it seemed; her hands were aching from how tightly she'd clutched him, but she couldn't be assed to care. Not when he was standing between her legs, his body warm through his clothes, his cock rubbing against her sex, already soaked from their last romp and ready for another.

She let out a shivering sigh at his question and lifted her eyes slowly, peering curiously up into his eyes. Their first round had happened so fast, it seemed, a whirl of passion and pleasure and nerves that she could hardly keep up with. But as she looked up at him then, an answer on her tongue, she truly registered their closeness, got her first good, thorough look at his face.

She had avoided direct eye contact before, but in that moment she realized his eyes were gray, not the dead gray of coins but the living silver of stars as they caught the light. How had she not noticed that before? She stared a moment, transfixed--and she then she sucked in a breath and quickly looked down, cheeks flushed and ears hot.

The fuck was wrong with her?

"Don't ask stupid questions," she managed to say, and reached down between them, her hand covering his as she guided his cock down against her opening. She bit her lip, anticipating what was to come, and nudged her hips against him as though trying to work him inside her. "Just fuck me."

        So that's what he did. Dirk slid his hard cock into Briar's tight cunt. After so recently expending himself Dirk's endurance was increased. He didn't immediately feel as if he was going to explode. It still felt wonderful, but the slight soreness balanced it a little. Knowing that Briar was likely to be tender, Dirk started slowly, easing in, beginning gently with his thrusts.

Briar gasped sharply, biting her bottom lip to hold back a small yelp of pain and jerking her hips in surprise as she stretched around him. It stung, but it wasn't as startling or sharp as the first time. Ow...yeah...she was definitely tender, and fuck, he was huge. But now that she knew it wasn't something to worry about, that it was more akin to the discomfort of using a new muscle for the first time, she wasn't about to cry uncle. Especially not after goading him on.

Besides, now she also knew that it would get better.

She gripped him tightly, tensing for those first few thrusts and gritting her teeth until, finally, she began to relax a little. But it was still kind of uncomfortable, and wasn't squirming as much as she had before, mostly clinging hard to him until her nails dug into him through the gloves. She had been worked up to a frenzy that first time and, perhaps, her insistence on a hard fucking straight out of the gates was coming back to bite her.

        The self lubricating condom mixed with Briar's ejaculate was more than enough to keep things smooth as Dirk gently slid in and out of her. He felt her tension, and then felt it ease, but she was not as enthusiastic as she had been previously. Perhaps she was not as sensitive to the pleasure now as well. He wanted her to enjoy herself more so he leaned away from her so he could get his hands in better positions to please her. One hand worked her clit while the other fondled her breasts. Dirk hoped his slow thrusts paired with his hand work would heighten Briar's pleasure.

Briar's breath hitched, coming out as a soft squeak, when Dirk's hands began to explore, but it was a good sound and it certainly showed. She whimpered and moved her hips slowly against him, pressing against his hand and working against his cock, and a shudder went through her as her nipples hardened under his touch. Oh, she was still sensitive, and wildly so, but that applied to pain as well as pleasure and her body wasn't quite sure what new sensation to focus most on. But as he worked her, and as fresh arousal began to spike and grow, so too did the discomfort begin to lessen until she was moaning, her hips rocking with him as she grew even slicker.

Thank gods for the gentle pace, though. She wasn't so sure she could handle another vigorous fuck so soon. But this was...surprisingly nice. Really good, actually.

Slow and gentle, each thrust better than the next, letting her feel every hard inch of him slide in and out of her. Briar had been wild with passion that first time, but now, tired and relaxed, she got to truly experience Dirk. She glanced down curiously between them, watching him thrust into her, and sucked in a sharp breath as that only made her hotter. She curled her hands into his shirt, more to cling to him in passion now than to clutch him through pain, and trembled as the pleasure began to build, drawing fresh whimpers from her throat.

"That...that feels fucking good," she gasped, breath coming quicker, more frantic, as the pleasure from his fingers and cock began to come together, working in tandem. She glanced down again and bit her lip, face flushed as she watched, and let out another little moan. "How the fuck you learn this?"

        "I have no education in this," Dirk replied to Briars inquiry, keeping his thrusts even. "I have an extensive knowledge of anatomy, and I have applied it to this situation. I'm glad my conjecture was correct. Please instruct me further so that I might improve, and inform me of any preferences that you might have." Dirk maintained his gentle pace, his nimble fingers rubbing at Briar's clit. As her breath quickened, and she let out moans, Briar's pleasure heightened Dirk's. The lack of sensitivity was fading as his arousal grew, and Dirk knew that another orgasm was growing closer.

"Uh..." It was difficult to think with so many new, intense sensations coursing through her, and the inquiry about preferences was a difficult one. She knew what she'd fantasized about, of course, on those mornings and nights when she needed release, but reality and fantasy were very different. She didn't have much to go off of.

"I...don't know? First time, remember?" Her breath hitched, a small squeak leaving her, and she clutched at him harder. "That? What you're doing now? With your fingers..." Another gasping moan and she moved her hips against him, urging him on faster, trying to take him deeper, the tenderness forgotten through pleasure. "Feels fuckin' good, just..." She reached down to cover his hand and slow his ministrations a little. "Softer. And, um...keep it wet. And touch my tits...or anywhere. Feels fuckin' magic."

Her face heated furiously and she bit her lip, trying hard to keep her thoughts on track. Somehow talking about it was leagues more embarrassing than doing, but she powered through, because if he wanted to improve, well, shit, she was happy to teach and reap those benefits. "It's just sore at first. You, ah...you can fuck me harder now, I think," she breathed, and rolled her hips experimentally, shuddering when that produced a new, startlingly good sensation that made her moan.

"A-ah, and whatever that was, that was good, like what your fingers did...shit..."

        Dirk was determined to wait until after Briar climaxed to let himself feel release. Finishing before her would not be very courteous. He did all he could to focus on helping her reach orgasm, thrusting at an even tempo, working his fingers in the way she liked. He could feel her body tensing as she neared her peak, and he knew that when Briar reached orgasm, her spasms would make it too intense for him to hold back. Her breath was hitching, her body starting to tremble. Any moment now, she would shudder with her pleasure, and Dirk would explode with his own.

Dirk may be as inexperienced as she was, but he had found a magical combination. With his fingers on her and his cock inside her, working her just as she'd instructed, it was almost overwhelming, a sensory overload, and if it weren't for the gloves on her hands and the clothes Dirk wore, Briar would have been clawing him. Every touch, every stroke, was like a bright shock going through her that she didn't want to end, made frustrating only by the fact that she wished there were no barriers between them, that she could feel his skin and heat completely. Gods, to think this was what she'd been missing all this time? No wonder people talked about it so obsessively.

It would be so easy to get drunk on it.

She already felt tipsy from lack of air, hardly able to breathe between cries and whimpers and frantic gasps and panted demands.

Head spinning, Briar curled her legs tighter around his waist and buried her face against his shoulder, careful of his bare neck. That familiar pressure was building, and if he kept going just like that...

"Oh fuck, Dirk, right there," she gasped. "Just like that, oh fuck me that's good, just--oh fuck, oh fuck, don't stop, don't stop--!"

She cut off with a cry that was soon muffled as she bit him through the fabric of his shirt. Screaming into his shoulder, she pulled him in close, her body trembling and shuddering all around him and threatening to bowl her over. Oh gods, it was too much, too much, but she didn't want it to stop even as her body begged for a break.

        Briar climaxed, and it was intense. Her body tensed and vibrated in such a way that it was very clear that she’d orgasmed. She gripped at Dirk and bit him, and as she rode that peak, he went through the tense jerking of ejaculation. Even as he tried to continue his thrusting, his cock pulsed with his orgasm, filling the condom with his seed. He fell forward, almost atop Briar, only just catching himself. He panted and shivered, his body filled with the pleasure of his climax. Trembling, he lifted himself. Briar was still clinging to him. His cock, though slowly deflating, was still in her. He wrapped his arm around her and lifted her as he stood, supporting her ass with his other hand.
        Dirk moved Briar to the shelf inside the basin, easing her shivering body down into the water. He unwrapped himself from her tangled limbs. He pulled his shrinking dick from inside Briar, the seed and condom again being drawn away into the marble at the bottom. A wet glove pressed the tussled hair out of Briar’s face, and then Dirk collapsed beside her. Reflexively he reached out, drawing her to lean against him. She could rest there, against all the fabric that separated their skin, while he caught his breath.
        “I’m a little sore right now, after doing that twice so quickly, but I hope you’ll let me do that again once I’ve recovered. It was quite amazing.”

Briar collapsed against Dirk, curling up against him with her eyes close, cheek against his shoulder, and her arms around him, completely unaware that she was basically cuddling him. Right then she didn't care; the contact felt good after what they'd just shared, and she felt tired and completely relaxed, sore but filled with warmth and pleasure and lovely shivers. Even if her feet had been healed, she didn't think she could have walked if she tried for all her trembling.

Gradually, her panting evened out and her frantic pulse slowed. And when Dirk spoke, she let out a hoarse, sleepy laugh and nuzzled her face against him.

"Mm...just lemme know when you're down," she said, though she wasn't honestly sure she could handle a third time that day. She shifted her legs and winced. Now that the high was wearing off, the soreness was increasing, leaving her feeling raw, though she hadn't yet noticed she'd bled. Even her thighs ached from being spread in a new position so long. Ow. Worth it. But ow.

Lazily, she poked Dirk's ribs. "What're you sore about, anyway? Ya weren't the one gettin' speared."

        "I don't think the muscles of my penis can handle another go for a bit," Dirk said. "I imagine you're sore as well. I can't imagine your vaginal opening being stretched that much for the first time, twice in close succession, will be comfortable. If your hymen or anything else tore you'll even bleed some. Of course the healing tonic will help us both recover and be ready again sooner than usual."
        Dirk's gloved fingers glided up and down Briar's side as he absently talked of anatomy, as if Briar had his level of knowledge. Neither of them had noticed that Alba had been watching the entire scene from within the trees, or noticed the girl slip away once they had settled into their cuddling. Neither did they see the man dressed in black, a blood red gauntlet on his hand, follow the girl back to their camp.

"Uhhh, what?" Briar raised her eyebrows and gave Dirk a blank look. Tore? Bleed? Hymen? The fuck was he talking about? "I mean, yeah, I'm pretty fucking sore but what the hell are you...?"

Concerned now, she removed one glove and reached between her legs, pressing her fingers where it was raw and tender. It stung around the opening, making her wince, and when she brought her hand back up, her fingers were tinted red. Most of it had washed away, leaving it thin and watery, but a quick glance down confirmed the rest. There were threads of blood in the water, but the bead was quickly cleaning it. Fortunately for them, they'd chosen a spot with easy clean-up rather than a bed, because as it turned out, she was a bit of a bleeder.

"Aww, shit, what'd you tear? Am I all busted now? Or..." She made a face, grimacing, and let her head drop back down against Dirk's shoulder.  "Am I early? I better fucking not be early, wasn't supposed to be for another goddamn week."

        "From what I've studied, and heard in crude men's bragging, is that bleeding is not uncommon. You're not broken, and your menstruation cycle has not reached the purging step prematurely. You're fine." Dirk did his best to be reassuring, but his choice of language likely did little to aid in that. At least he'd told Briar she was fine.
        "I'm enjoying this time together with you in embrace," Dirk said to Briar. "I'd approve of staying here much longer, but we should probably get back to camp." He wasn't making any move to get up though, and his fingers still lazily caressed Briar. "You should practice your ability more as well. The sooner you control it, the sooner we can experiment with touching each other. Kissing sounds interesting to me, and I unexpectedly enjoyed your bite. I think feeling your skin against mine would be a delightful experience."

Briar let out a long, exaggerated sigh. She really didn't want to go. This was nice as hell, his idle caresses on her skin; she felt like if she stayed like this much longer, she could fall asleep. It was peaceful here, she felt more relaxed than she had in years, he was warm and comfortable...

But he was right. They couldn't just ditch Alba. Though she did have to wrinkle her nose at the idea of practicing her damned ability. That wouldn't be pleasant—even if he did make it sound like it came with some great rewards. Kissing. She had only kissed once, and it had been awful due to her curse. But so had all touch, and now she knew it could be magical. What would kissing feel like if she could do it properly? What would touching feel like without barriers? His hands? His lips. His cock.

Her face heated, and she squirmed a little, hyper aware of his caress as it sent chills down her spine. "I guess," she said.  "As long as we come back here later." She shifted a little. "When I'm, uh, healed, at least. Good thing I already can't walk. Also thanks to you, I'll add."

        Dirk slowly moved away from Briar, finally getting up to pack up the bath. He went about it with quiet efficiency, the process now routine. Once everything dry had been packed up, he lifted Briar from the water, and wrapped her in towels. He set her gingerly on her feet, stripped off his wet clothes and then took the towels from Briar. Everything wet he bundled into a large burlap sack, and then wrapped a warm dry robe around Briar. A dry set of garments he pulled from his haversack, as well as hand and leg wraps. With his circlet resting on his brow he dressed with astonishing speed. His armor, cloak, and weapons all in place, Dirk swept Briar up into his arms and began the walk back to camp.
        It wasn't a long walk, and as they approached, Dirk noticed things out of place. Stones and branches he always avoided disturbing had been moved. Not in the subtle ways of passing wild life, but in a definitely human way. The tracks were not hurried or frantic, and whoever made them had made no attempt to conceal them. His eyes silently searched and he discovered that the tracks were going in two directions. First toward the bathing spot, then back. He concluded it was probably Alba, but Dirk remained vigilant nonetheless.
        In very little time Dirk was passing into the camp with Briar in his arms. Once through the tree that acted as the entrance Dirk froze at the sight of a man standing over Alba's sleeping form. Dirk gave Briar an intense look as he set her down without a sound, and with the snap of his wrist flung a dagger at the man. Kukri and dirk snapped into Dirk's hands in an instant and he followed that dagger with more speed than Briar had ever seen a man move. A beautiful sword held in a blood red gauntlet swept out from the man's cloak to meet Dirk's blades. With a slight gesture of his other hand the man magically flung Dirk back toward Briar. He stopped just short of colliding with her, frozen in the air, all his limbs stretched to their limits.
        The entire moment transpired so fast a human eye would struggle to follow, and that moment was the time it took for what Dirk had seen to sink in. A man dressed so much like him, the blood red gauntlet, the beautiful swinging arch of Bright Rose as she came up to meet Dirk's blades. The man released Dirk and he fell to his knees, Briar behind him, witnessing the glory. "Master," he said, bowing his head to Ritousaey. Then he stood and crossed to his master exchanging a firm hand shake. A somber faced Rit, pulled down his hood, a small smile splitting his face.
        "Hello Dirk," Rit said with a heavy Adelan accent. His form was quite Adelan as well. Dirk was used to that. The changing faces. The sword was always the same though. A constant of every Rit, as well as the sickle. "I see Briar is alive and well on this timeline, as are you and Alba. That's pleasant to witness." He turned and bent to Alba, stroking the girls hair. The color fully returned to her cheeks as his touch healed her body, but the girl remained asleep. "It seems she's a golden thread in this pathway. So many of her branches are dark, but she could be a great force of good." He stood up and stepped around Dirk, as he passed, he touched Dirk, healing him as well. He now stood before Briar, who had amazingly stayed silent through it all.
        "Hello Sima," Rit said, to Briar's further shock. Then he reached out and pressed a finger to her forehead. Rit of course knew her ability and knew what contact with a god would do to her mind, and so he mitigated it, letting her power work through him rather than on him. Briar was filled with a vastness unlike anything she had ever felt before, infinite emotions so unknowable, yet somehow she understood. The birth of the multiverse and it's infinite paths, infinite ends, flashed past until it all settled on a moment, insignificant in the grand tapestry but critical to her. The moment Dirk entered her life.
        Briar saw it in so many versions of time, and in so many there was a death there. If Dirk had not come, either Briar would have messed up and died, or messed up and killed that noble. In the case of the latter, she was hunted down, always on the run, or caught and killed. That day was the end of Briar, in almost every case. Dirk had shown up though, and he had saved her from those paths. He had kept her from inevitable doom. He had saved himself from inevitable doom as well. Had Dirk not been there, had not found Briar and the path of his life forever altered, today he would have died. Too many brigands at once, all fighting dirty got the upper hand. Dirk died on countless timelines, just minutes earlier. A fact that created an infinite sadness for Rit, because those Dirk's were all dead, a near infinite amount.
        Then there was Alba, doomed to be a plaything for those men until she died. Had Dirk not altered the course of his and Briar's lives bringing them there right then, she would still be with those men, and her grey thread would have been cut. Now she was a golden thread. An important figure in the balance of the multiverse, a position Briar and Dirk would never hold. They would always be grey, always unimportant in the grand scheme of things. She also knew though, that her children might be golden threads, though Rit didn't let her see who the fathers could be.
        All that flashed in her mind in an instant. Along with that, Rit had healed her entirely. She'd also later discover that she could read, write, and speak all the languages of both this Earth, and Earth Prime. Rit turned back to Dirk and pulled out a book to hand his student and cosmic progeny. Then he was gone. With an audible pop, he disappeared, and Dirk stood looking at the book, which was written in Sanskrit. He held it up to Briar, a couple entwined in a sexual act was depicted on the cover and she could read the title. Kama Sutra.

She was having a heart attack. Or a stroke. That had to be what that felt like.

The moment Briar had seen that stranger standing over Alba, the moment Dirk had given her that look, her blood had turned to ice. Dirk didn't have to say a word. She knew this was bad. And when he set her down, she dropped to her knees and kept quiet, heart beating fast but breath held as a familiar kind of terror gripped her. She had been in plenty of dangerous situations--generally ones of her own making--but she was still in no condition to fight, and helplessness was new to her. She had felt that same helpless terror the night those men had hunted her and Dirk had rescued Alba, but now she knew what he could do, that he could take on several men and come out on top, so wouldn't one be fine? It was just his look that chilled her, because it wasn't one she had seen before.

Things went wrong very, very quickly.

Dirk attacked, but it was useless; the man flickered like a ghost and the blade passed through him harmlessly, and his sword swatted the rest away like annoying gnats. Then it was Dirk's turn to be swatted, flung through the air by an invisible force, and Briar threw up her hands to shield herself from the inevitably painful collision--that never connected.

She cracked an eye open. There was Dirk, stretched spread eagle, at the stranger's mercy. A stranger strong enough to overpower him. Fuck. FUCK. They were all so fucking dead. Frantic, her mind raced, and she was on the verge of lunging up and grabbing Dirk's kukri, useless as it might be, when Dirk dropped to the ground and--

...Master?

He was Kneeling. Bowing. That...that was the master guy he always talked about? This creepy ass guy looming all ominously and acting like he was going to murder them all in the face? Breathless, speechless, torn somewhere between relief and residual terror and being pissed as all hell, Briar's eyes flicked back and forth between the two as they greeted each other like old friends.

THE JACKASSES! WERE THEY FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?

She was still gaping, not at all comprehending a word the master guy was saying, when he turned his attention on her--and all the fight and anger drained from her with a single word.

Sima.

He touched her before she could fully grasp what he's said.

And then she saw everything.

It wasn't the first time she had seen impossible things, things she couldn't begin to grasp. She had seen it with Dirk. She had seen it even before that, when she'd touched an old object she probably should have known better than to touch. But somehow, this was clearer. Somehow, this came with knowledge. She saw her deaths. She saw Dirk and Alba's deaths. She saw children, and something deep inside her balked. She saw how significant meeting Dirk had been--that it had changed everything, would change everything, for both of them, and already had.

And then it was over.

Briar let out a breath, reeling, staring wide-eyed at the space before her. She hadn't yet noticed that she was healed, couldn't even comprehend that as the images flickered and faded behind her eyes. He was gone before she even realized, leaving her dazed and shaken. But when she felt like she could move again, breathe again, she slowly looked up at Dirk, needing something to ground her and confirm that this was real.

And then her eyes fell on the book he held. Her eyebrows rose. Rit had given him that.

Given him a sex book.

After everything else.

A sex book.

She blinked. Looked up at Dirk, then again at the book. Her lips twitched, then she snorted.

What the fuck!

Before she knew it, before she could fight it, she was laughing uncontrollably, hard enough to cry and hard enough to hurt. She clutched at her ribs, wheezing and gasping, as she flopped onto her side and laughed helplessly, unable to process the situation any other way.

        Dirk did not see the amusement in the situation. It was not as dramatic a moment for him either though. His time with Rit had exposed him to more than half a century of shenanigans. This was fairly normal for him. He walked over to Briar, and crouched beside her, placing a hand on her robed shoulder.
        "Are you okay," he asked, not understanding why she was laughing hysterically.

"No I'm not fucking okay!" Briar got out between gasping giggles. "I don't even fucking know! Just. Just what the fuck, Dirk!"

        Ah. That was it. Rit had broken her mind. He could do that. Luckily for Dirk and Briar, Rit knew what a person could handle better than they did, so she’d recover. Probably.
        Dirk could see that Briar had been healed, just as he and Alba had been. Not even the pink flesh of scars on her hands and feet, even her tattoos were mended. That meant the rest of her was healed too. Suddenly there was movement in his pants, his cock growing thick with the prospect of more sex.
        “I know this is an odd time to suggest it, but Alba seems to be in a magical sleep, and we’ve been completely healed. So do you wanna get fucked again?”

Briar paused in her laughing, snapped a look at Dirk, and just stared. Had he really just suggested--after all that? That's what his first thought was?!

She slapped both hands to her face, flopping over onto her back and letting out more laughter, though weaker now, her shoulders shaking with it. "I repeat: what the fuck, Dirk! Sure, Dirk! Why the fuck not, Dirk! Let's fuck, Dirk! Whoa."

Suddenly, she paused, and turned her hands so she could view them front and back. She blinked, sobering up, and then touched her shoulders to check for wounds before looking at her feet. In all the crazy, she hadn't actually noticed she'd been healed. In all her hysterical laughter, she'd hardly even heard Dirk when he mentioned it.

        Dirk leaned in and scooped Briar into his arms. She was in stunned silence, and examining her hands, and he was carrying her to her cot. Once he set her down he realized that carrying her wasn't necessary anymore, and for some reason that made him a bit sad. He'd come to enjoy carrying her everywhere.
        Dirk pulled the haversack from his back and began pulling off his apparel. Each piece slid into the bottomless bag, disappearing until later. Once he was down to his loose undergarments, he reached into the bag and pulled out the gloves that would be for Briar. As he placed them in her hand, something unexpected happened. Or rather, it was what didn't happen that they didn't expect.
        Dirk's finger ever so slightly grazed against Briar's hand. They both snatched their hands back like lightning. They shared a horrified look that dissolved as they realized Briar wasn't passing out from the visions of his past. Her ability had not activated and caused her extreme mental pain.

...Well, he sure wasted no time.

As Dirk scooped her up, Briar was reminded that his sarcasm detector was perpetually broken. Or not even present at all. Slouching in his arms grumpily, she crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. She had a lot of questions like what the fuck had just happened and she wasn't particularly in the mood now, her mind still reeling and confused and overwhelmed and actually pretty damned upset that Dirk's master had called her fucking Sima, a name that made her stomach knot and twist, but she said nothing and only frowned as Dirk set her down on her bed.

She stared at him, still scowling, drawing the robe tighter around her as she watched him strip down. How long until he realized she was being snarky, and that now was most definitely not the best time to suggest a fuck? Not after her mind had been so thoroughly fucked! He pulled out the gloves, and she wordlessly held out a hand to accept them, stiiiiill waiting to see when it clicked for him--

And then it happened.

His finger touched her hand, a bright shock of sensation, and Briar's stomach dropped. She jerked her hand back with a gasp and a wide-eyed look, body tense as she anticipated the usual--the avalanche of images, the flood of emotions, the head-splitting agony--but...nothing. She froze, breath held. It should have been instantaneous. Dirk had only brushed against her the once, and it had been awful. But still nothing. She swallowed hard, horror melting into confusion, and let her breath out slowly.

"The fuck?" she said, and looked down at their hands. No, both were definitely bare. She flicked a look back up at Dirk. No, he had definitely looked, in that moment, as horrified as she had felt, the classic "oh shit" expression. What?

Hands slightly shaky from nerves, she reached out slowly and poked his hand, snatching her hand back quickly with a wince of anticipation. But nothing. What? She reached out and laid her palm over his hand this time, then cupped his hand between both of hers, even squeezed his hand. Still nothing. Oh shit.

"Uh. Dirk?"

Her heart began to race anew and she dropped his hand and started to feel at his face, his neck, squishing his cheeks a little, before she grabbed his hands and pressed them to her face.

"Dirk. Dirk, you're seein' this, right? You feel this, right?" she said, voice rushed and panicked. "I'm touching you, right? You're touching me? Nothing's happening? I'm not crazy, right? Because this is fucking crazy. This shouldn't be a thing. Oh shit. Oh fuck! I'm broken. I think he broke me. Oh shit! He did crazy fucking mind shit and now I'm broken!"

        Dirk was seeing it, feeling Briar touch his face. He liked the skin contact and he wasn't sure why it was a problem that she could feel his touch. She hated her ability didn't she? She was beginning to panic though, and worry Rit had broken her, which he wouldn't have done. He didn't know what to say to calm her, what to do, but he did remember an encounter he had witnessed on a caravan once. A woman was panicking much as Briar was, and her companion kissed her. The two women had then slipped away from the camping area and Dirk now understood why. So he went with that.
        Dirk reached out and took Briars hand and pulled her into an embrace, pressing his lips against hers. He hadn't ever kissed before, so the extent of it was just his mouth softly puckering against Briar, but that was enough for him. The feeling was electric. Their chemistry a match. Biology was winning over Dirk's lack of socialization. After the brief kiss Dirk released Briar from the embrace and leaned back to continue removing clothing, working his way toward total nudity now that Briar could make skin contact.
        "I'm sure you're gonna be fine," Dirk said as he peeled off his clothes. "Rit wouldn't break you, and he wouldn't steal your abilities. He probably just gave you a break from them. He brought us a book that details methods for sex. So he's encouraging us and gave us the opportunity to enjoy it." Dirk bent to grab the book and hand it to Briar. As he did, a slip of paper slid out, a note to Briar written on it.
        Briar,
        I apologize for melting your brain. Being near Dirk after experiencing so many of him dying was too sad for me to stay and explain things slowly. He's a great opportunity for not just your survival, but your happiness. Treat him well, and teach him about the darkness in all people. He doesn't quite understand lies and betrayals. He doesn't much understand his own emotions. It was better for him in the long run that I not teach him those things. Otherwise his awkward emotional blunders would not have put him with you. The longer you two are together, the better chance you both have of dying old and happy.
        I try not to interfere in the lives of grey threads too often, but I must give you a warning. The cult still searches for you, and they are close. You must stop running and face them, or it will only get worse, it could cost you both your lives if you delay. That is a problem for another day though. You have man in front of you, almost naked, that wants only to please you and share in that pleasure. Enjoy the day of skin, and wake up in his arms. When the sun reaches its zenith tomorrow, your visions will return. And don't worry about Alba. She'll wake up with the return of your powers. In the meantime, just have fun!

        -Rit

        When Briar was finished reading the note, it slowly faded from existence. There was no trace it had ever been there, and Dirk had been so busy disrobing that he hadn't seen it. It was Briar's secret to share or withhold.

Briar was still babbling, still panicking, when Dirk shut her up spectacularly--

With a kiss.

Pulled against him in an embrace, their lips pressed together, Briar's words cut off with a gasp and her eyes went saucer-wide, her body still. Her mind blanked out, everything cutting away and focusing instead on a single point, his strong frame against her, his lips, surprisingly soft and warm and tingling with heat, on hers. It might not have been a very good kiss; neither of them had the experience for that. But Briar didn't notice or care about his technique. She just noticed that he was kissing her and her heart did a flip, pattering frantically against her chest like hummingbird wings. To her, it felt electric. What the...what...?

He released her, and Briar sat back on her hands to keep from toppling and stared up at Dirk, her face dark with a blush. She couldn't breathe. Her heart was beating too fast, her body trembling lightly and head reeling. Hands shaking, she touched her own lips. Nothing could have prepared her for that. Sex was one thing. Sex was rebellion and pleasure, just a fun diversion, and their experimenting had been through barriers. But kissing? With nothing between them? The thought of him actually touching her with his own bare hands?

Her blush grew, spreading down her neck, and she felt the strange and overwhelming urge to hide. Instead she just sank deeper into the robe, flustered and strangely embarrassed as she listened to Dirk. Nothing to worry about, he said, acting so casual. When he'd just kissed her, and suddenly she was without the ability she hated—but also couldn't imagine being without. She had always wished it would go away, and now it had, and that was frightening because it was all she knew, was so entrenched in her identity, the source of so much pain just...gone like that.

It was a lot to take in.

All of this was.

Dirk handed her the book and she took it, calmer at his assurance but still utterly lost and...strangely exposed. They could touch. Why was that suddenly so scary? Something fluttered from the book as she set it in her lap, and she grabbed it reflexively. A note?

...to her?

She read it, not noticing that her literacy had improved and that the language was unfamiliar, and her brow furrowed. They were crucial to each others' survival? Their happiness? What? Teach Dirk about the darkness in people? Pfff. Yeah, she could do that. Welcome to her life.

It was when she got to the second paragraph that mild amusement and confusion turned to nausea.

Her cult.

Her family.

How quickly Rit switched subjects. He had just plunged her into ice with only a few words before the note turned light again, hopeful. A day of skin. Enjoy themselves. A day without her abilities. Her head spun as she set the note down, but it had already faded from her fingers, and she looked up at Dirk and drew a deep breath. He had seen nothing, still fussing with undressing.

Good.

She cleared her throat to draw his attention. "Uh, so...I guess it'll wear off by noon tomorrow," she said, and was surprised at how quiet her voice came. "There was a note, so..." She shrugged. Her head was full of so many conflicting emotions, so much happening so fast, and she licked her lips where Dirk had kissed her.

Shit. She was so out of her comfort zone. For the first time in forever, she felt completely small and awkward.

But she did know one thing. If Rit's news had done anything, it was to remind her how precious and hard won her freedom was. She wasn't going to tell him now. She didn't know when she would. But for now, time was irreplaceable.

She looked down at her hands, tracing her fingers over the hamsas tattooed there, a dark reminder of her purpose. "So, erm, maybe...you could kiss me again?"

        Down to just his short pants, Dirk stopped undressing when Briar spoke. He knew Rit wouldn't break her, so finding out he's given them a time limit seemed more accurate to the way worked. The request for a kiss was definitely another thing he could do, especially if that's what she wanted from him. Dirk dropped to his knees in front of his lover and did what any sensible man would do, he kissed her. He tried to approximate what he'd seen others do. Partially open lips pursed, soft contact with Briars lips, puckering and finally that kissing sound was made with the separation of their lips. Then he did it again, in case she wanted more.
        "I'm not sure how kissing works," Dirk confessed. "I've never read anything about it, and I've never kissed or been kissed. I can only extrapolate technique from the few visual displays I've seen."

A full-body shiver went through Briar when Dirk wasted no time fulfilling her request, ever eager and earnest. Again there was that soft contact, the light press of his lips on hers, the subtle warmth of his breath, and she closed her eyes because the eye contact and closeness felt awkward, and that seemed to be a thing most people did anyway. That shiver only intensified with the next kiss, which was unexpected and felt somehow even better than the last, and she found herself leaning forward into it. But her movements were careful, her hands still holding the robe closed around her, as she shied from closer contact.

Time might be limited, but this was still intimidating.

Parting from him, she licked her lips and looked up at him, trying to control her breathing—how could such a simple thing leave her breathless?—and then he spoke. Normally, that might have annoyed her, all his technical speak during a time like this, but it was a welcome ice breaker this time.

She snorted a laugh rolled her eyes, holding a finger in front of his lips to shush him. Then, blinking, she paused only briefly before she pressed it to his lips. There was still a moment where she braced herself, expecting to feel something—but all she felt was skin.

"Shut up," she said. "You're gonna kill the goddamned mood." But though she said it in her usual Briar way, her fingers traced his lips as she spoke, curiously exploring, eyes studying him as she did. Then they trailed down lower, caressing over his jaw.

This was...surreal.

"If it makes ya feel any better, I already know bad and that wasn't bad. The only other guy I kissed, I passed the fuck out from it. Woke up with a bleeding head, scared the shit out of him. Apparently he thought he'd killed me. You really can't fuck it up more than that, so..."

She took a deep breath, realizing that she was once again babbling, and decided to shut herself up. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his before she lost her nerve, her blood heating on contact, her robe sliding down off one shoulder as she shifted closer. She let it, and then with a slight roll of her shoulders, she shrugged it off the other side.

"Just keep kissing me."

Dirk did as Briar commanded. He put his lips to hers and kissed, soft slow kisses. When it came to weapons and fighting Dirk was excellent at improvisation. He had such extensive knowledge he could devise original techniques on the fly to deal with any situation. Here, with kissing, he had found it the opposite. He didn't know very much at all, so anything he did would be pure experimentation. Then he remembered a song. He'd heard it on The Cancer, space pirates singing about a woman telling a man all the places she wanted to be kissed, and his response was all the places he'd put his dick. At least he had some idea where to kiss Briar.
        Dirk moved from Briar's lips to her cheek. Then he kissed her ear, and running through the lyrics in his head, followed them like a blueprint. Down her neck to her shoulder, across to her clavicle, then down to her breasts. As he was kissing Briar's nipple he remembered how much she enjoyed when he kneaded her breasts, so he starting doing that now.
        To kiss lower, as the song suggested, Dirk gently leaned Briar back onto her cot, and moved to kiss her stomach. He continued down across the mons veneris, and soon reached Briar's sex. Without any knowledge of what it meant to 'kiss me down there' Dirk literally kissed, pressing his lips against the hood that covered the clit. That unintentional tease was short lived as Dirk moved to kiss Briar's inner thigh and work his way down to her toes.

Briar's knowledge of kissing was only minimally better. She had frequented some unsavory crowds that talked openly about lewd things, so what knowledge she'd gained was mostly from their bragging and joking. She knew the crass acts, vaguely. She didn't know sensuality. She knew people kissed with their tongues, but she didn't know how. The descriptions had always sounded kind of...wild. Wrestling tongues and all that.

She was pretty sure that wasn't literal.

But for now, she was content with these soft, slow kisses, her lips tight at first but gradually relaxing against his, her breathing shaky through her nose--

And then Dirk kissed her cheek, then her ear, and a full-body shudder rolled through her, head to toe. When his lips met her neck, her skin burned hot and a soft squeak left her, her body going stock still and trembling. Oh...gods. Oh gods.. She couldn't move except to squirm, each press of his lips a bright shock of sensation on her skin unlike anything she'd felt, sending rippling chills straight to her fingers and toes. Oh, it had felt amazing being touched before, but nothing could prepare her how overwhelming this was, and being touched through cloth felt muted and dull compared to the heat and breath and life of his mouth and hands.

She whimpered when he kissed her breasts, breath hitching when he kneaded them, and she needed hardly any coaxing to lay back. She couldn't have resisted if she wanted to, and his touch made her feel weak--and vulnerable in a new way. She had tried to cover up that vulnerability with the usual tough talk and jokes and demands, tried to shield herself from the flood of new, raw emotions and pure sensory overload, but pleasure and nerves had a way of lowering one's defenses, and she could feel something tightening in her chest and throat even as pleasure coiled in her core.

Briar squirmed as Dirk kissed her belly, letting out hot, frantic pants that caught in her throat. Her back arched, hands grabbing at the blankets and squeezing. Lower still he went, impossibly low, and her eyes shot open when he kissed...there. She bucked in surprise, gasped out, "Holy shit," but her voice was choked, and she realized too late what that meant.

She didn't know when she'd started to fucking cry.

She threw an arm over her face to try to hide it, hoped Dirk would think her sobbing breaths were just pleasure. Which they partially were, and so were her shudders and restless squirming when he kissed her inner thigh and went ever lower, but oh fuck. Oh shit. What the fuck.

        Dirk didn't hear the crying, he was focused on his kissing and thought that Briar's gasps and sobs were just pleasure. He couldn't imagine how it must feel to be touch for the first time, and it to be so wonderful. He kissed down her thigh to the side of her calf, then her foot. Then he moved to the other foot and kissed it to begin his path back up her body.
        When Dirk arrived back at Briar's sex, it was glistening. He knew that meant her arousal was high, so he did what any earnest young man would do, he pressed his thumb to her clit and started stroking. He kissed back up her stomach to her tits, kissing them gently, while his thumb kept at his work. As he moved up her neck to her face he came to realize that the arm across her eyes was shielding tears. She hadn't said anything though, so he was unsure how to proceed. She was so tough and forceful, if he'd done something wrong, he felt she would have chided him. Dirk didn't understand.
        "Briar, did I hurt you? Should I stop?"

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe.

This was more intense than sex. More intense than that first time, when she'd come so hard she thought she might pass out. But it was a different kind of intensity that was only heightened by emotion. She gasped, but it felt like nothing was reaching her lungs, pleasure leaving her light-headed and dizzy as he went from merely kissing her to pleasuring her. His thumb touched her and Briar cried out, a sobbing moan leaving her. With no buffer between them, his touch was even more dexterous, precise, his skin so different from the material of the gloves. She couldn't move except to writhe helplessly, tears wetting her arm, heart beating too fast.

Then his lips were on her neck, his voice in her ears. It brought her back and her eyes, clenched shut, fluttered open, her arm lowering. Oh shit. Breathe. Stop panicking. She just had to breathe. She was going to freak him out.

"N-no," she gasped out, and cupped his face with both hands, fingers trembling as they traced his cheekbones. Grounding herself. Reminding herself where she was, grounded here, with Dirk. It had felt too good. Too intense, almost out-of-body. It was scary, like she didn't have control, like her body wasn't hers, the pleasure bowling her over until she could do nothing, seized up in its grip. Too many sensations all at once, so much to focus on yet she could focus on nothing at all. How the fuck did she explain all that? How did she explain what it was like to live twenty-three years associating touch with only pain, to resign herself to never kissing, never holding hands, never doing anything except through a cloth, and then with the flip of a coin experience...this?

"I-I'm fine, it's just..." A deep breath, a slight hiccup, and she turned her face to wipe her eyes against her arm before looking back up at him. "It's just...a lot. Y'know?" She swallowed, controlling her breathing. "It's kinda overwhelming and scary and it feels so, so fucking good andIdon'tknowwhattodo."

She bit her lip as soon as the words rushed out, face going red with embarrassment. They had just slipped out in the moment--and she wasn't used to sharing something like that, wasn't used to admitting she was nervous or afraid.

        Dirk didn’t quite understand, but he knew enough to know now was a time for empathy. Emotion was new to him, so he didn’t really know how to express to Briar that he cared. Not knowing what to say or what emotional expression to show, he focused on the fact that she had expressed her enjoyment of the situation and that he should not stop. So he didn’t stop.
        There had not been time to braid Briar’s hair so it was bit disheveled. Dirk brushed it out of her face with his fingers and then kissed Briar on the cheek. Then he kissed her mouth again since she seemed to like that so much, and he enjoyed her kisses in return. Pressing his lips to hers again and again was wonderful. He was laying on top of her, him in just his short pants and Briar nude. He could feel the heat of her sex through his pants, his erection pressed into the cleft of her lips.
        “Can I have sex with you now?”

More shivers, more chills shooting through her like lightning, making her gasp and jerk. His fingers brushing at her hair, his lips on the skin of her cheek and finally, her mouth. Briar grabbed onto Dirk's shoulders reflexively, nails digging into his skin—there was no cloth to protect him now—and let out a muffled whimper against his lips as his cock pressed against her through his breeches. That was all that was separating them, and the realization made her heart race ever faster, making her dizzy, even as she bucked up against him, grinding their bodies together. Gods...if she was coming undone from this alone, she didn't know how she was going to handle the rest—and the thought brought with it a wave of panic.

And excitement.

It was too much. So fucking intense. His body atop hers, his bare chest pressed against her breasts, heat and the brush of skin against skin, sending tingles coursing all along her. She couldn't stop shaking, still felt like crying—happiness and pleasure and confusion and nerves all rolled into one. This wasn't working. She didn't know what to do with this feeling of vulnerability, of helplessness and smallness.

And so she sought to deal the only way she knew how.

"Fuck, w-wait, pause," Briar managed to gasp, squirming and pushing lightly at his shoulders. Fuck, she hoped she wasn't confusing him too badly. Don't stop. Stop. "I-it's too much, I—" She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to collect herself. Trying to get her head on straight when she felt overwhelmed, swimming in sensation.

Looking up at him, she nudged him, urging him to roll over. "Switch places."

        Dirk was beginning to get confused. He knew he was new to emotions and sex and any social interaction with other humans in general, but Briar changed her tone and stance on this so fast he was getting quite lost. She appeared to be very much into it, but the range of emotions he was seeing wasn’t totally adding up. He just wanted to please her, and not necessarily sexually. Dirk lived to serve, and whatever Briar needed from him, he wanted to give her. With that in mind, he did as she commanded, laying down so she could climb on top of him.
        “Okay, now what do you want me to do?”

"Nothing," Briar answered as she rolled atop Dirk, lightly straddling his clothed hips. She could see his confusion; she didn't need her abilities to notice, and had always been attuned to the feelings of others even if she was also good at ignoring them. Confusion was a new look on him, though. Go figure, with all the mixed signals she was sending, and her own muddled thoughts. And how the hell was he supposed to understand when she didn't know how to explain?

She rubbed the back of her neck. "I mean, uh, I'm gonna touch you. And you're just gonna...do...whatever. Lay there I guess? Enjoy it? I hope?" she continued, cheeks heating at the thought. She cleared her throat nervously, fighting back the budding awkwardness. "That was fucking intense, alright? Real intense. Good intense but just—I just need to slow down. Catch my breath. Enjoy the view. Okay? I ain't been touched skin to skin like that and I've never touched so...it's just...you know? This is all new."

And kind of scary. It felt amazing, but it also felt like her body was freaking out. And sure, they had fucked, so maybe it seemed strange that she was getting shy now, but for her this was way more intimate.

She took a deep breath and cracked a small smile to reassure him, already feeling calmer now that she had control, though her heart hadn't slowed and her skin still felt tingly. Leaning down, she kissed him, slow and lingering, and shivered through it. "It's my turn, is what I'm sayin'. So don't touch me 'til I say," she said against his mouth, and experimented with a tiny nibble on his bottom lip. She was new to kissing, too, but she at least had more exposure to it than Dirk. She knew people kissed with their tongues, for example, though she wasn't sure how. Stick it in there? Huh. Maybe that book had some information.

For now, she held off on that and instead took to familiarizing herself with his body. She sat up, and for a moment just looked at him, bare beneath her save for his short pants, eyes lingering on his lips, his chest, his defined abs. She trailed her hand through his hair, marveling that it was softer than expected, and caressed her fingers down along his jaw, down the side of his neck, over his throat. Curious, she pressed her lips to the path her fingers had just traveled and then went lower, feathering kisses over his collarbone and then his chest. Her hands slid over his shoulders and down his arms, feeling, lightly squeezing his biceps, mapping his body in her mind.

He...felt amazing. The faint scent that was unique to him, intoxicating. Her blood ran hotter, and she found that even though it was her touching him, she sometimes forgot to breathe. How did even this feel good? But the more she touched, the bolder she got, and soon she had slid herself backwards and between his legs so she could get lower, kissing just below his navel as her thumbs brushed along his hipbones.

Briar paused there, at the edge of his pants, and glanced down at the erection straining against his clothes. She felt breathless, and though he hadn't touched her, she could feel her own arousal practically dripping between her legs, the delicious tension only building until she was shivering--and the sight of him only made it better. Tilting her head, she trailed her fingers over Dirk's cock, massaging through the fabric, and looked up at him.

"Gonna take these off or what?"

        Of course Dirk had planned on taking off his pants, but Briar had interrupted him. She’d commanded kisses, and he’d obliged. She’d commanded he lay on his back, and he’d done so. Then through all Briar’s touching, Dirk had strained at the command to not touch back. It felt a lot better than he’d expected. Each kiss, each graze of Briar’s fingers sent a tingle through his body. He wanted to stroke her in return, to kiss her back, but he just laid there, shivering at her touch, goosebumps racing across his flesh. When Briar moved between his legs, and then touched his throbbing erection through his pants, Dirk could barely contain his anticipation of the next touch.
        There was no hesitation when Briar asked Dirk to remove his pants. It may have been said quizzaciously but he was beginning to understand Briar’s sarcasm. He reached down and unlaced them with quick motions, then lifted one leg out at a time to avoid kicking Briar, or requiring her to move. Dirk’s member bounced at the movements, eventually flopping back down when he was still. The mass of his erection had pushed itself free from his foreskin, a pearl of his pre-ejaculate glistening at the tip. It grew quickly until it ran down the mucosa and dripped on his abdomen as an unconscious spasm made his cock bounce slightly.

Dirk was quick to obey, and Briar watched him with fascination--and no small amount of smugness. She had been out of her comfort zone for the last few days: injured, helpless, under someone else's control and powerless to do a thing about it. While their relationship had evolved drastically over that time, some things didn't change; Briar liked being in command, and she enjoyed turning the tables now, enjoyed watching him shiver to her touch.

Soon he was as naked as she was, and Briar got her first up close look at his cock. She looked up at Dirk, then back down, hesitating for a moment. Maybe it was a stupid thing, but now that she had him where she wanted him, she...wasn't quite sure what to do with that. How to touch him with her hands. Just...mimic the same general motions that happened when they fucked? Why did this suddenly seem so complicated--wait.

Blinking, she hesitated only briefly before she reached out and grazed her index finger over the head of his cock, smoothing away the precum. "Errr...did you...?" She looked back up at him and lifted an eyebrow. "You already get off?"

        Dirk quirked his head at Briar's inquiry. Was the question a serious one, or another joke? It didn't have her usual quizzacious tone, so it was possible she wasn't mocking him this time. It was always better to err on the side of caution so Dirk assumed she wasn't joking. "That's pre-ejaculate seminal fluid," he told her. "It leaks from the urethral opening to clean it in preparation for the spermatozoa to travel through." It didn't occur to Dirk that the modern reaches of anatomy or awareness of biology had not reached a point where even educated people would understand what he was saying. "I have not yet achieved climax, and will try to hold off from doing so until you want me to, or until you orgasm first."

Briar paused and looked up at Dirk, fixing him with a long, dry stare. "Some questions, Dick, only need a 'yes' or a 'no'," she said. "I don't what the fuck any of that other shit meant. But, okay! Good to know! So basically guys get wet too, is what you're sayin'. I think? Whatever, it doesn't matter! Actually, just...just don't talk, alright? Shhhh. That shit is not sexy."

With that cleared up, she turned her attention back to his body and ran her fingers along his shaft. It was softer than she'd expected, and for a moment she just curiously explored. It was so surreal, exploring him like this, touching every part of him freely without repercussion. As she'd kissed down his body, at first she'd been nervous, still afraid of some bad reaction, but the caution had faded from her touch the further she went. It was still nerve-wracking, though she did her best to hide that behind the illusion of control. This was...crazy intimate. But it was easier with him being the vulnerable position this time, and touching wasn't nearly as sensitive as being touched.

She pressed a kiss to his inner thigh and closed her hand around his cock, gently stroking up and down, her movements awkward and a bit jerky with inexperience. And as she did it she watched him for a reaction, wracking her brain for ideas. Dirk had been a virgin, too, so they were technically on even footing--and it kind of irked her that despite that, he was a bloody natural, knowing just how to touch her to drive her wild. And so she had kissed him and caressed him the way he kissed and caressed her because she knew it had felt good, but she couldn't exactly copy his technique here.

Hm.

Well...

There was a brief pause, a thoughtful look at the cock in her hand, and then Briar wiped the precum away with her thumb and pressed her lips to the tip in a little kiss, the way he had kissed her between the legs. She had wanted more when he had done that, and so she gave him more now, tongue flicking out to taste him. Huh. Didn't taste bad, just tasted like skin, and she knew Dirk was clean. Alright, then. She had no idea what the fuck she was doing, but she'd heard plenty of men in the taverns boast and talk about women sucking dick. They were bloody obsessed with it. How literal was it, though? Because she was pretty sure that wasn't going to fit. So maybe...?

She slipped the head into her mouth and gave it a light suckle.

        Dirk enjoyed Briar's touch. Her hands were soft, and her fingers stroking his shaft were pleasant. Though it felt nice, the rhythm of her stroke was not quite right. Dirk moved his hips ever so slightly to help Briar get into pattern that felt better, but then she stopped. Soon she kissed his cock and then her mouth was closing around the head.
        Dirk sucked in a breath of startled pleasure. Oral sex was something he was only vaguely aware happened. Before meeting Briar, Dirk had not even pleasured himself, so all these new sensations were amazing for him. Briar's soft warm tongue against the frenum was a much better sensation than her hand, or the inside of the contraceptive Rit had provided him with. He quickly felt the building pressure that meant orgasm was imminent. If skin to tongue contact was this amazing, how was he going to handle intercourse? Dirk quickly began meditation to focus his mind, to ride the pleasure without it taking over, and contained what have been a very embarrassing occurrence of premature ejaculation into Briar's mouth. Keeping his focus was hard though, his breathing labored, his body shivering on the edge of his control.

Briar may not have known how to do this, or have any kind of technique, but it didn't seem to matter judging by the way Dirk was reacting. Something she was doing obviously felt nice, to have him tensing and shivering like that, and she was surprised to find it wasn't as boring as it had sounded. The way those bawdy tavern-goers talked, it sounded like a dominance thing, a one-sided thing to put the woman in her place, and she'd never been interested. Screw that.

But as she'd been exploring Dirk, as he'd shivered and sucked in breaths under her touch, it clicked. She liked this, watching and feeling him battle for control, hearing the way his breath hitched when she flicked her tongue just so; she was the one with the power here. Of course, she kind of always was. He only touched her because she wanted him to, after all. And even when she'd been his "prisoner", she'd kind of still called the shots.

Yeah. This was...actually fun.

And also kind of torturous.

As she licked and sucked at the head, and watched his reactions, all she could think about was getting fucked again. She wanted him, wanted his hands and lips on her, intense as it would be, and though she was nervous about the intensity, she was curious--and her body was on fire, her own breathing short and quick, quiet moans escaping her. They didn't have much time. Just a day, and that wasn't enough, and she knew she needed to get over it fast so they could enjoy things while they could.

Gods, she wanted him. And soon she slid him down a little deeper, pulled back when she choked, and brought her hand up to slide along him instead, slicking him up and down as she focused on what would comfortably fit. She slid her tongue around him and slipped him into her mouth again, adjusting herself when she got a particularly positive response and making sure to repeat it, and then paused, releasing him with a soft pop so she could peer up at him, a smug smile on her lips.

"Enjoyin' yourself?"

        Dirk at first only whimpered in response to Briar, then quickly said, "Yes." He took a breath, focused himself, and continued. "I'm finding it very hard to contain my climax. I fear I may release the next time you do that. It's intensely pleasing."

"Yeah, well, you're not allowed to yet. I ain't done with you," Briar said, and took that as her hint to pause. She didn't really want to get a mouthful, and hot as she felt...well, she was eager to try again. She had taken a breather, and maybe this time when Dirk touched her, she would be more prepared. She would know what to expect, and maybe that would make it less...scary?

"'Cause I want you."

Sitting up, she climbed back onto Dirk, carefully, tentatively, trying not to touch him too much as she straddled his hips. She stayed hovering over him, raised up on her knees, and bit her lip in thought as she stared down at him, blushing deeply. She brushed some hair back where it had fallen into her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You can touch me now," she said, and reached for his hands, lifting them up and placing them over her breasts. She shivered at the contact and closed her eyes, and he could no doubt feel her heart racing. Gods. It was like she was aware of every inch of skin, every nerve alive and soaking up fresh waves of sensation, spreading chills and tingles clear down to her groin. Deep breaths.

"Just. Slow," she continued, and lowered herself down until she was sitting on him, his shaft pressed between them. She whimpered at the sensation and boldly chased it, slowly rocking her hips so she could slide along him, her breath coming out in shivery gasps and soft moans as his cock rubbed her clit. She was slick against him, her body more than ready for him, but she was taking her time and mentally preparing herself as she rode wave after wave of sharp new sensations that left her trembling--

And then she went too far and, got a little too enthusiastic, and in sliding back accidentally aligned them. His cock jabbed against the opening of her sex, the tip sinking in the slightest bit, and Briar yelped and jerked her hips away, flushing darkly. "Shit!" she gasped, and had to pause a moment to catch her breath, trembling. "That...holy shit...this might be too fucking much..."

But then she blinked. Wait.

Meeting Dirk's eyes, she then flicked a glance down between them and then back to him. "Hey...think you can fuck me like this?" she said, cocking her head. "Me on top?"

She hadn't considered it before. She didn't honestly know enough about the actual act of sex to know what positions were possible. Maybe it was an obvious thing, but it had never occurred to her until that accident that she could be on top.

        "I don't see why not," Dirk told Briar. "Lift yourself up and I'll hold it straight up so you can sit on it."

Lifting herself up, Briar waited for Dirk to adjust himself. When he had, she lowered herself down slowly, pausing when she felt the tip pressing against her. She shifted her hips, rubbing against him, and then with a deep breath, she met Dirk's eyes and carefully sank down onto him.

Again there was that initial stretch, that pang of discomfort, but it was brief this time, easier, and then there was bliss. Briar gasped, for a moment unable to cry out, unable to breathe, as the sheer sensation bowled her over. Gods, it had felt good before, but this felt different. Thin as the barrier had been, it had still covered Dirk and taken away some of the sensation of him. He...felt different without it. Noticeably so. Better in a way she couldn't begin to articulate.

And she had barely gotten him halfway in before she froze, shivering atop him, struggling to catch her breath. "Holyfuck."

        Holyfuck was right. Dirk wasn't a user of vulgar speech. It just wasn't part of his usual vocabulary, but Briar used it a lot and this moment was definitely worthy of the expression. She paused part way, his cock pulsing with the elevated speed of his heart. Then she continued down. They both stayed motionless for a short time, the sensations quite intense. Then as Dirk and Briar began to move, fucking, as Briar would call it, the inevitable came a little prematurely. Two or three thrusting motions later and Dirk could no longer contain himself. He shot into a powerful orgasm, filling Briar with his seed. Lucky for him, Briar also climaxed, coming with great body shaking spasms.
        The orgasm was powerful and intense. Something much bigger than what he experienced with the contraceptive barrier. Briars also seemed more intense. He could feel himself beginning to deflate as Briar collapsed atop him. The press of her skin, her breasts against his chest, her breath on his neck, was very arousing. His cock barely had begun to shrink when it was growing hard again. As Briar lay limp against him, Dirk began slow gentle thrusts up into his lover, his fingers idly wandering the curves of her body.

Was...was that it...?

Shivering violently atop Dirk, hardly able to move as powerful spasms and contractions wracked her in breathless waves of pleasure, it took Briar a second to get her bearings enough to think. And when she could think, it hit her that he bad barely even gotten in all the way, barely even moved, before they were already done.

Which. Yeah. Gods. It had been fucking intense, just that initial penetration, coupled with the sensation of his hands on her, and her groin and thighs rubbing against him. But. Still.

"...What the fuck," she managed to wheeze out, gasping out a laugh and pounding weakly on his chest. "Oh my fucking gods, did we just--are we really? Pffft. Dirky. We're fucking pathetic, ya know that--shit!"

Her words turned into a surprised squeak when he started to move again, but she couldn't move, frozen in sheer pleasure as he gently slid inside her. She trembled and clung onto him, whimpering, still sensitive from her release--which only made the sensations more intense. "Oh fuck, ohfuck, I thought you were done!" she gasped, but it wasn't a complaint, she just wasn't prepared. But even though she felt overwhelmed, her body knew what to do and she craved more, and soon she was rocking back against him, her breath hot against his neck, urging him on.

        "I did climax," Dirk confirmed to Briar, "but it seems my body is still responding to arousal, and we can continue." His thrusts up into Briar we're slow and gentle. He was still experiencing the dissipating sensations of pleasure he received from that initial orgasm. Too much too fast would just be too intense. Briar didn't seem to protest the pace, as she lay mostly limp against him. Her slight rocking motions were at first off rhythm to his own movement, but they soon fell in together. Dirk gently turned Briars head, her lips toward his, so he could kiss her mouth while his fingers danced along her spine.

If Briar could have spoken at the moment, she may have chided him for talking like...that. But for the moment, it felt too good for her to care—and surreal. Skin pressed to skin, connected inside and out, every nerve singing, they couldn't get any closer than this, and the realization made her throat tighten. It was easier to control her emotions, though, when she controlled the rest of the encounter, and she swallowed back the feelingsbullshit and focused instead on the physical—because that's all this really was, right?

No need for the headstuff.

Moaning and panting, hips moving awkwardly until she found Dirk's rhythm, she clung to him hard. This position felt good, but she didn't know what she was doing, how she should move, and so she paused now and then when things got too intense and let him do the work.  She kept her face pressed against his neck, muffling her whimpers—until Dirk turned her face to him and kissed her.

Her face lit up, burning fire, and she shivered into the kiss and returned it hungrily, breathlessly. It was dizzying, this pleasure, so many different sensations blending and contrasting—his hands on her back, his lips on hers, his cock moving inside her, her nipples brushing his chest, his heat and scent all around her. She felt drunk on it, overwhelmed, but gods was she addicted.

It was ecstasy.

It was frightening.

It was amazing.

"F-fuck," she gasped against his mouth. "Don't want tomorrow to come..."

        Dirk continued his upward thrusts, Briar moving nearly in unison with him. Every movement was amazing, every bit of contact. He didn't expect to enjoy it so much. Briar's small breasts, her nipples, pressed against him. The feeling of the tight muscles in her abdomen against his own. Her hair brushing against his face as they kissed. It all felt wonderful.
        Dirk's fingers made their way up and down Briar's back a few times, and then he recalled how much she'd enjoyed the massage of her buttocks. So he moved his hands down, and began to gently knead Briar's ass all the while maintaining his gentle fucking.

Briar jerked and whimpered in surprise and pleasure as Dirk's hands found her ass, her breath coming out sharp through her nose as she pressed her lips to his. Gods, each touch felt electric, shooting chills and tingles clear down to her toes, pleasure burning in her core, already building in that familiar way that warned she was getting close. But it was no surprise; she had barely come down from the last one, and was still riding those waves of pleasure, when Dirk started fucking her again, and each new touch, new sensation, only added to the dizzying mix.

She hadn't taken many drugs in her life, but this? This felt like a drug—better than any drug she'd experimented with—and she felt high, drunk on sensation. At first it had been too overwhelming, even scary, and it still was. But right then she could control it, and that made handling it a little easier.

With a fierce kiss, she sat up to get more control, no longer content with just being fucked. It felt amazing, but he was being so careful, so gentle, and she wasn't sure if it was because he was afraid he might still hurt or overwhelm her. It still hurt a little, his size something to get used to, but it was nothing pleasure didn't mask, and nothing practice wouldn't overcome. And while she appreciated that he was being careful, she wanted more—and with her on top, she figured she could just take it rather than beg.

Hands braced on his chest, she started to move, but her movements were awkward. She figured all there was to it was to just lift and fall on his cock, but it turned out less intuitive than she'd thought, and she raised too far up and he slipped out. With a small sound of frustration, she took him in hand and guided him back in, letting out a shuddering moan as he sank in deep, and tried again, more carefully this time but still awkwardly. This was...trickier than she had thought, bouncing up and down like that.

"That good?" she asked between gasps as she moved, thighs aching from moving in a way she normally didn't.

        Dirk had no idea Briar was awkward in her ministrations though. All he knew was that he was experiencing pleasurable sensations unlike anything he'd ever imagined. At first, when he'd slipped out of her, there was a moment of disappointment. He didn't want the pleasure to stop. Sliding back in was amazing, and he had the idea of withdrawing further so he could experience that over and over. Something to try later. Briar's next few motions may have been jerky and uncoordinated to someone more experienced, but this was something Dirk had zero experience with.
        "It feels amazing," Dirk responded to Briar. He moved his hands to her waste helping her speed her pace as he tried to match her rhythm with his own thrusts. It took a moment to sync up, but the steady motion made it even better. "I definitely would prefer if tomorrow never came. I could do this with you forever."

Briar's face heated at his words, skin flushing noticeably. "A-ah...yeah," she breathed, not sure what to even say to that. "Something like that." Nope.  Not going to think about it! Just focus on the physical—and that was easy to do, easy to push everything else aside and let herself drown.

Dirk guided her, and Briar fell into rhythm, speeding up at his urging. It very quickly became too tiring to bounce on him, and soon Briar sank down onto him and rocked her hips instead—and her breath hitched, caught in her throat, as somehow that made it even more intense, the angle just right. Fuck, she was close, and that only sped her along as his cock hit that spot his fingers had found, her clit grinding against his pelvis, and soon she was crying out her pleasure and grabbing onto his hands to hold on, trembling and shivering and tensing around him.

"Dirk...oh fuck, Dirk—! I'm coming, oh fuck, I'm—"

It quickly overwhelmed her and she came with a sobbing moan, squeezing his hands as though trying to crush them, thighs pressed hard against his hips as her entire body shook.

        The pleasure was also intense for Dirk, and he found himself nearing the edge of another climax as well. As Briar's body spasmed from orgasm, Dirk could no longer contain himself. His seed burst forth into his lover, and he unconsciously squeezed Briar's ass as it did. His moan of satisfaction matched Briar's, and between breaths his mouth found hers. Once again his cock was quick to re-inflate, even before it had really gone very limp, and his thrusts continued.
        Dirk pushed Briar's disheveled hair out both of their faces and kissed her gently, over and over as his thrusts picked up speed. In and out was an easy motion to do with his hips, and soon he was lifting Briar by her ass to give himself more space to work with. His pelvis was audibly slapping against hers now, and her whimpers and moans let him know he was doing a good job. This wasn't so hard. He was sure he was getting the basics down pretty easily. That book would soon make him a master. For now, he made sure to pay attention to Briar and do the things she responded best to.

How was he still going? Briar felt like her body was liquid, her release so intense she couldn't move, and she was still trembling around him as he continued to thrust, keeping it going. It was a good thing Rit had healed them before this, which, as it turned out, had also included healing her...tenderness. Because damn did Dirk have stamina.

She cupped his face between her hands and kissed him, moans swallowed by his lips, letting him do the work as she shivered and her body refused to cooperate. When he began to lift her so he could slam up into her, she yelped, crying out at each slap of his body against hers. It was almost too much, so pleasurable it was almost painful as her body adjusted to so many different, new sensations all at once, but she didn't want to stop. Didn't ever want this to end. This was like a drug, and she needed to get her fix while she could.

"Oh gods...fuck...!" Briar cried, feeling like a doll as he fucked her, while it was all she could do to just stay upright. Soon she was working with him, hips rocking with his thrusts, trying to match his rhythm and helped along by the push and pull of his hands. Gods, she wanted more, his upward thrusts giving her a taste of his power, but she wanted to feel the full force of him. She dipped down for another kiss, moaning against his mouth, and then nipped sharply at his ear.

"Roll over," she panted. "I want ya on me."

        Dirk complied without hesitation. They were both a little awkward as Dirk helped Briar climb off of him, and helped her lay on her back, legs trembling. He carefully climbed on her, laying himself between her legs, guiding his thick member inside her. Dirk was unsure how to lay and support himself, so he propped himself up on his elbows as he began to gently thrust into Briar. He continued kissing her as well, long presses of his lips against hers.
        "This feels so unbelievably good," Dirk said breathlessly. "Tell me if you want me to change my pace or the strength of my thrusts."

For a moment, Briar was happy to enjoy the slower, gentler pace, the new position. It gave her a chance to touch him, to explore his back with her hands, tracing over the contours and muscle. It gave her a chance to relax a little and recover, and to enjoy the slow slide of him inside her. She kissed him, slow and languid, breath coming out quick through her nose as she slid her hands up from his back to glide along the sides of his neck and, finally, cup his face. Her fingers raked through his hair and caressed over his ears, and as they kissed she nibbled at his lips--needy, instinctual, not really knowing what she was doing, though her body seemed to know. He slid deep, and she rocked her hips up into him, off rhythm at first but soon matching his pace, like the push and pull of the sea.

This was different. Less intense, still pleasurable, and somehow more...

Intimate?

The word flickered into her mind, and she let out a shaky breath against Dirk's lips as he kissed her. What the fuck. Where the fuck had that come from? It was an uncomfortable thought.

A scary thought.

Sucking in a breath, she peered up at Dirk when he spoke, and she answered him by raking her nails down his spine until her hands were settled on his ass. She gave him a squeeze, then lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

"Harder," she breathed, and leaned up to nip his shoulder. "Don't worry about hurtin' me. I'm fine. Just fuck me." A hand curled in his hair, drawing him down for another, fiercer kiss. "Do your worst."

        As Briar dragged her nails down Dirk's back he found he wasn't sure if he liked it. The sensation was definitely an interesting contrast to the pleasure, but it was almost too much. He enjoyed the squeeze she gave his butt though, and he also liked when she told him to fuck her harder. He did not hesitate to comply.
        Dirk drove his cock deep and hard at a fast pace, his pelvis audibly slapping against Briar. He was panting at the continued exertion, and as his climax grew closer he found himself focusing on his task and not his pleasure. It seemed to help him slow his progress. He was determined to last as long as he could. He much rather Briar ask him to stop and he comply, than to ask him to continue and not be able to.

Briar knew she was going to be sore later, but that was a problem for Future Briar; right now, she just wanted to get the most out of this experience while it lasted.

Head thrown back as Dirk fulfilled her wish, she screamed in pleasure, ever thankful they were isolated and Alma was under a sleeping spell—because there was no way she would have been able to keep quiet. It was intense, almost too much to handle, and a few times she thought she might not be able to, that she might need to ask him to slow, but gods it felt too good. Unaware of Dirk's discomfort, lost in the tumble of sensation, she dug her nails into his shoulders and cried out hoarsely, her throat growing raw.

She wasn't a begging or praying sort, but she was sure doing a lot of that lately.  Breathlessly begging him not to stop, oh gods, his name on her tongue, her breath against his ear, her cries turning to desperate sobs as she bucked up against him. A few times, he went almost painfully deep, and she yelped in surprise, but it only made her cling harder, only made that wonderful pressure build.

Until, finally, it was too much, and with a keening cry she tensed and shuddered, clinging to him for dear life as she was flooded with warmth so intense she forgot to breathe.

        The heat and the passion of their lust was so intense that it took a great deal of concentration for Dirk to maintain his erection but not explode inside Briar. She cried out and whimpered, and begged, and yelped, and made so many the other noises. They encouraged speed and power into his thrusts. The audible slapping of their bodies turned to a deeper thudding as Dirk put more strength into it, at least until Briar was pushed over. Her full body spasms, and the contractions of her sex pushed Dirk over the limit again as well.
        An explosive orgasm wracked Dirk's body, his hard cock shooting another load of cum deep into Briar. His mouth found hers, his lips pressing hard against Briar's. As the flexing and spurting of his cock subsided, Dirk finally fell limp against Briar. He was well and truly spent, though his cock stayed partially inflated. His whole body tingled, and his breathing was heavy.
        "This- is- the- most- amazing- thing- ever." Dirk's words came one at a time between breaths. "I'm- so- glad- I- get- to- share- this- with- you."

"Oof," Briar grunted when Dirk collapsed atop her, panting breathlessly beneath him, her body glistening with exertion. But right then, she didn't have the energy to complain about being pinned; it was all she could do to breathe, her body flooded with warmth and shivery tingles. His every movement, every twitch made her gasp, every nerve hypersensitive--and a little sore, too, where they were still joined.

But right then, she hardly cared.

Right then...gods, this was bliss.

"Yeah," she breathed, smoothing her hands along his back and over his shoulders. She didn't think that would ever get old, being able to touch and feel, and feel his warm body flush against hers, his heart beating powerfully against her chest. It was still intense, so new and raw--but after that, she just felt relaxed, languid, her muscles trembling. "Fuck...that was..."

She didn't have the words for it. She couldn't have spoken them, anyway, because she felt her throat and chest tightening and she blinked hard against the stinging there. She drew a deep breath and buried her face against his neck, breathing in his scent, feeling his warm pulse. "Thanks."

        Every touch of Briar’s fingers, her breath, her hair brushing against him, sent a wave of sensation cascading through Dirk’s body. As amazing as it was, the heat of their bodies pressed together was becoming too intense. He gave Briar one last kiss before lifting himself from atop her to lay next to her. He couldn’t help but gaze upon her nude form differently now. She was beautiful in his eyes before, but not he felt lust with a new awareness. A hand reached out to trace the curves of her body. Swirling down her neck and chest. Dirk grazed Briar’s nipples, and traced her areolas before gliding down to her navel.
        “I’ve appreciated the varying forms created by biology, and the artistry and purpose of each,” Dirk said as his hand glided back along its course. “Never before have I looked at someone and felt these feelings of desire. You are amazingly beautiful. Thank you for teaching me about this. I hope we can share this experience many more times.”

Oh, Dirk. Such a way with words. And thank the gods for those words, too, because it jolted her out of her own weird mess of emotions.

Stretched out next to him, she sighed and closed her eyes in pleasure as his fingers traced her body, goosebumps following in their path. Another sigh had laughter in it, and she cracked her eyes open to peer at him. She might have corrected his speech before--it was still so cringe-worthily awkward!--but right then, with so many pleasant sensations flowing through her, she could forgive it and appreciate the sentiment behind it instead.

"Yeah, I was sorta lookin' at you all lustful the instant I saw you shirtless," she said with a pleased smirk, breath catching as he caressed her nipples, sighing as he trailed down from her chest to her belly. She closed her eyes as though that could hide the way heat rose to her face. Beautiful. The way he said it was so...different from how other people said it. So...real. Genuine. She knew she was pretty, and she'd heard it before from others. Why did it strike her so differently coming from him? Why did it make her stomach go all...weird and jittery and tight, and make her heart beat faster?

"So, uh...you're welcome?"

Reaching out an arm, she trailed her own fingers along his face, tracing his jaw, his cheeks, running a thumb over his lips, and then began to lazily mirror his caresses. Her eyes were still closed as she just soaked it up, just let herself feel, and her heart ached when she remembered how little time she truly had.

"You'll be eating your words, though," she said. "'Cause I've only got 'til tomorrow, remember? I'm hoping to take full advantage of that, if you know what I mean."

        Dirk was not worried. He knew he could brew more medicinal tea, and he also had potions that could help keep them vital. This breather could be useful though. A few minutes of not fiercely mating for the sole purpose of pleasure. They could read. So Dirk stopped his long drawn out caresses and reached for the book that had been given to them by Rit. He rolled onto his back, and scooped his arm under Briar's neck, bringing her in closer so he could hold the book open for both of them to see. He opened to a random page in the middle to find a full color image of a man thrusting into a woman from behind while  on her hands and knees. Dirk immediately began to read the foreign language allowed, and with Rit's touch to Briar she found that she could not only read the words but understand them spoken as well.
        "The posture adopted by the receiving partner resembles lordosis behavior – a physical posture seen in many female mammals, often when they are ready for sex/mating, the primary characteristic of which is a ventral arching of the spine. During vaginal penetration from behind, the penis may penetrate deeper into the vagina, reaching preferential contact with the posterior wall of the vagi-" But Dirk's reading was interrupted by the usual crass language Briar used, as she was unable to handle the descriptive words.

"Whoa, whoa, what the fuck, Dirk!" Briar yelped, throwing a hand over her eyes and turning her face away, her face on fire. She hadn't expected to get a full-color, leaves-nothing-to-the-imagination eyeful of...that, some random couple locked together like stray dogs on the street. Maybe it was a dumb reaction, considering they had been fucking each other silly, but that picture was just...dirty. And embarrassing as hell.

And then that shit he'd been saying! Lordo-what? The very descriptive yet strangely clinical description of the act? Penis? Vagina? Calling sex mating? And all of that paired with Dirk's calm, matter-of-fact narration?

"Just kill me, now," she said, rubbing her face, but peeking through her fingers. "What the fuck kinda book did your friend give ya?! He mess up and get the weird dog fuckin' book?!"

         "Well you're not wrong about the dog part," Dirk said pointing. "Different people have called the position different things. The wild beast position, cow position, doggy style position. Apparently I can get really deep inside you with this one and it's possible it'll be really intensely good for you. I won't be able to kiss your mouth though, and I do like kissing your mouth." Though Briar was covering her face, her mouth was exposed, so Dirk decided to steal a kiss. "You wanna try it? Or we could try something else." Dirk flipped to another page randomly where the man was running his tongue around the woman's anus. "Interesting," was all he said as he started reading about the ways to please the anus and erogenous zones associated with it.

With a sound very close to a squeak, Briar jerked upright, snatched the book from Dirk's hands, and slammed it shut. "Thaaaat's enough of that!" she announced as she tossed it aside, and if she thought her face was on fire before, it was an inferno now.

Tongues certainly did not go there! Holy shitfucking gods!

She huffed out a breath, staring at Dirk. "Before ya get any ideas about that, no. That's gross!" she said. "As for the rest, the dog, cow...whatever shit..."

She trailed off, sitting back on her heels, and glanced away from Dirk. She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Sounds interestin' enough. I guess. Sure."

Nonchalant. Cool, collected, indifferent. Yep. Not like something about that filthy, filthy image had actually interested her or anything. Nope, shit was downright lewd, and definitely not secretly thrilling at all, because she was not a goddamned dog and definitely did not want to be pinned and ravished.

        Dirk sat up himself and moved closer to Briar. His hand traced up her side, and he kissed the back of her neck. He gently pushed Briar's hair aside and kissed the side of her neck as well. The cover of the book had an image similar to this. It looked much more pleasant the the way that song had described kissing everywhere on a woman. He reached his arms around her and stroked his fingertips from just above her clit up across her nipples to her face. Gently he turned her toward a position he thought would be most comfortable, and kissed down her back as he leaned her forward. He glided his fingers across her back as he sat up once more, and then gently, but firm, gripped her ass and lifted her to a position in which he could enter. He slid the tip of his hard cock up and down her slick opening and then began to slowly and gently work the tip into his lover.
        "Are you ready," Dirk asked her, tense with excitement. He could barely contain his eagerness as he prepared to thrust into Briar's waiting cunt. If he'd known sex was going to be so enjoyable, he might have tried it earlier. He was glad that he had not though, and that it was Briar he was having the opportunity to share this with.

Oh. He meant now. And here she thought he needed more time to rest. But it seemed looking at that book was all the pick-me-up he needed, and Briar...really wasn't complaining, especially as he started to kiss and caress her.

Whatever objections she had, real or not, immediately melted. Her entire world narrowed to just a few bright points: the places Dirk touched, each caress making her tremble, each kiss stealing her breath. Was it like this for other people? How did people go about their lives just...casually hugging or kissing each other without becoming a shivering mess? Her legs trembled as his hands trailed up over her belly and chest, over her breasts up to her face, and her eyes fluttered shut. If she was a cat, she would have purred, and thought that she could probably come just from this if Dirk was dedicated enough.

It was definitely the next best thing to sex.

And then his lips were on her back, and she practically fell forward onto her hands and knees when he guided her into position, her limbs turned warm and shaky. She arched her back with a soft moan, goosebumps following the path of his kisses, and she could have begged for more--until she felt him grab her ass and slide his cock between her legs, and her face went flushed with need--and a little embarrassment--as he teased her. She had been distracted by his kisses, but now here she was, being mounted like an animal, and a sharp gasp left her when she felt him start to sink in, her face flushing and hands curling into the fabric of their bedding.

...Because this was...strangely exciting.

Why the fuck did she like this.

"Ya think?" She let her head drop to hide her face, biting her lip, and gave her hips an impatient wiggle. "Just fuck me already," she breathed, a thrill going through her that made her even slicker.

        As much as Dirk wanted to dive in and just start pounding away, he knew he should ease in at first. He'd felt and heard Briar's reaction to the size of his member, and he'd read that page entirely. He could just as easily hurt her as please her if he did this wrong. So he started slowly, easing his throbbing cock in inch by inch. Each time he pulled back, he spread some of her juices back further so his entrance would be smooth. Once he was fully in he waited. His cock buried to the hilt, he leaned forward and pushed his fingers through Briar's hair. Then he dragged them across her back in a long caress. Then he gently raked his nails across her back to change her sensations, and then caressed her again. As he reached under Briar to play with her breasts and nipples, he began to slowly stroke in and out of her. Her grip on his cock had relaxed, as she'd grown accustomed to him inside her, and relaxed. It was awkward to kiss her back but he managed, and then moved a hand to where their sexes met. With each stroke in and out Briar's wetness spread, running down Dirk's scrotum and both of their legs. He smeared it onto his hand, and then applied his slick fingers to her clit. The book had briefly described manual stimulation of the labia and clit, and he did that now. As he worked her to orgasm with his hand, Dirk kept the strokes of his cock to a gentle rhythm. Once he felt those first spasms leave his lover he removed his hand from beneath them. Straitening up, Dirk gripped Briar's ass with his dry hand and began to really thrust in earnest. After several deep and fast thrusts he gave Briar a playful spank on her butt. His other hand was still quite slick with her sticky honey, and he used it in a way also described in the book. He slowly and gently work his thumb into Briar's tight cunt along with his cock, further tightening the space.

Holyshit.

Though Briar had been demanding, she appreciated his gentleness. She covered up embarrassment and vulnerability with crassness, and it was fortunate that Dirk knew better, because aroused or not, her body wasn't ready for what she'd demanded. As eager as she was, she was still new to this, he was large, and their fun had left her tender. It hurt a bit as he slid in, the angle new and depth different, and she hissed and tensed, jerking a little beneath him, and was relieved when he gave her time to adjust. But more than that, he showed her affection, sending chills and tingles cascading over her skin, every nerve alive beneath his touch, leaving her squirming as he vacillated between caresses and kisses and gentle scratches.

She was whimpering and trembling before he even began to thrust.

And when he finally did, she just about lost it.

He had said this position could be intense, but that was an understatement. It had felt good before when they were face to face, but it felt like he was touching entirely new places, each thrust hitting some place inside her that made her cry out, that made her feel like she might come undone, and each stroke felt impossibly deep--almost too deep, almost too much, but it felt too good to stop. Her arms and legs shook, threatening to give out, and when he reached beneath her and started to rub her clit--

"Dirk!" she cried, collapsing forward onto her elbows and burying her face against her arms. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh--!"

Her breath seized, a sobbing moan escaping her as she shuddered beneath him, but he was far from done. She squirmed and clawed at the cot, and her moans soon rose in pitch when he grasped her and truly began to drive into her. She couldn't speak, could hardly breathe, could do nothing but take everything he gave her, and something about the helplessness, the vulnerability, only made her wilder. Between frantic breaths she managed to beg for more, yelping in surprise when he slapped her ass, but the sting only added to the urgency.

Until he went just a little too far.

Suddenly, intensity turned into a burning sting and and Briar yelped and bucked, jerking her hips as though trying to pull away. "Ow! Wait! Stop!"

        Dirk stopped. Pulled out completely. Cock, thumb, he didn't leave anything inside her. "Was I too deep," he asked Briar. "Or was it the thumb?"

"That was your thumb?" Briar twisted to look back at him, eyes wide and incredulous. "Dirk...you're fuckin' huge. Why do ya think I need your thumb, too?"

        Huge?
        Noted
        While that revelation would make many a man brim with pride, for Dirk it was simply a fact to use logically. If he was huge then there was no need to further fill her to increase her pleasure. "I honestly didn't know how my size measured up. I'll not do that in the future. I'm sorry for hurting you. Would you like me to continue?"

Briar flushed, looking away from him. "I mean, I really don't fuckin' know. But I know you're my first dick, and you're big to me, so just...be careful, yeah? Shit's already tight." She took a deep breath and pushed herself up, shifting off of her elbows and straightening up her arms again.

"Anyway, I'm fine. Just surprised me. So get back in me."

        Dirk complied. He noted a little swaying bob Briar did as she said the words and knew she was eager to continue. He rewet his sticky hand against Briar's abundant juices and then rubbed those on his quickly drying cock. He positioned himself behind her and slowly eased back in. The angle of entry was a little different now that she'd shifted during their fucking, but he kept her steady with another tight grip on her ass. He reached under her again, rubbing at her clit, maximizing her pleasure to overshadow any pain he'd given her. She collapsed a bit more with her next climax, and he had to lift her a bit to keep her at a height he could comfortably fuck her at. Leaving a sticky wet hand print on her ass was less of a concern at that point, and Dirk gave her another playful slap as he continued thrusting. Soon Briar was rocking with him, eagerly seeking his thrusts as he drove into her, and while he gently massaged her ass with one hand, he brought that thumb, still slick with her juices, against her puckered anus. He gently but firmly stroked it in a circular motion as he thrust deeper and faster into Briar. He didn't do it for long though, as he was peaking his own climax. His hands both found tight grips on Briars ass, squeezing hard as he thrust one hard and final time, his cock bursting, filling her with his seed. Dirk collapsed forward, but did not let his weight fall against Briar, supporting himself on one hand. His lips found her back and kissed her with gratitude at the pleasure he'd just experienced. His deflating cock slid from her and his seed trickled out, as he too fell to his side. He pulled her close, not caring about any mess that might me made, wrapping her in his arms and burying her face in more kisses.
        "That was wonderful," Dirk gasped. "I'm so glad you were robbing that carriage that day. Thank you for this." His smile of contentment was wide as he looked into Briar's eyes. "Let's do another. You pick one from the book this time."

Dirk did a good job of making her forget the pain.

Briar gasped when he slid back in, and those gasps soon turned to moans when he found her clit again, the intensity of it once more turning her limbs to water. She had to struggle not to just collapse onto her belly, and had only minimal success as each thrust rocked her forward, as each stroke of his fingers made her tremble, and it wasn't long before he'd sent her over the edge again and she found herself on her elbows once more, face against the cot as she cried out into it.

But he was hardly done with her, and her release only made her more sensitive and craving more. She moved with him, rocking back into his thrusts without even thinking about it, jerking her hips and whimpering when, at a few points, it was too much, too deep, just on the edge of painful--but not enough that she didn't want more. Because each stroke still hit that strange new place that stole her breath and built a sensation she wanted to chase, an entirely different feeling than when they had faced each other.

And then she jerked and gasped in surprise when she felt him touch her there, her face going red with mortification--but when she opened her mouth to snap at him, he started to truly fuck her, and the words were drowned out in cries that bordered on screams, her entire body going taut as she dug her fingers into the cot and arched her back, no longer caring where he was touching her as long as he kept doing that. She begged him, whimpering for more, harder, to keep fucking her just like that--

She felt his spasms, yelped and tensed at that last hard thrust that almost sent her over, and then she let herself collapse entirely as he slumped forward. Weak and breathless, his kisses sent chills down to her toes, and she let him pull her into his embrace, equally apathetic about the growing wet spot on the cot. She curled in tighter without even thinking about it, panting through his kisses as her fingers trailed up and down his back, and was more than content to just stay like that and pass the hell out.

But then he opened his mouth, and she cracked her eyes open to stare at him.

...What? Really?

Briar laughed breathlessly at his phrasing and kissed him back, giving his bottom lip a sharp, but playful, nip. "Hah, yeah, same. I'm so glad you stabbed me multiple times and knocked me out that day!" Damn...they really had come far in such a short amount of time, from fighting to fucking in just days. Those days had been intense, to say the least.

And maybe she wasn't thrilled about where they had started out, but...she had to admit, maybe things had turned out better this way. If Dirk hadn't come along and wrecked everything, where would she be now? Doing the same old shit she did day in and day out, stealing for a living, avoiding other people, being miserable with a smile--a lone wolf fine with being a lone wolf, except for the fact that wolves belonged in a pack. She sure wouldn't be hanging around this guy, who had somehow managed to be both a smart, dangerously formidable, frightening opponent and too damned pure and honest and oblivious for this world.

With an amused shake of her head, she twisted in his arms and reached for the book, bringing it back around. She let it flop open, tried to fight back the heat creeping into her cheeks, and flipped through it. "Uhh...I dunno. Do I really gotta pick? I guess, er..." She flipped a few more pages, then shrugged and shoved the book in his face after glancing at the image without having to look at it too much.

"That one? 'Scissors'? I guess?"

        “The receiving partner lies comfortably on their back,” Dirk read, “next to the active partner who lies on their side facing them. The receiving partner lifts the leg closest to the active partners shoulders while putting the other leg between their partners legs. The active partner supports their upper body on one arm leaving the other free to use on petting or other activities. Kissing and eye contact help this position remain intimate while allowing for deeper penetration and varied stimulation compared to a standard missionary position.” Dirk closed the book and set it aside. “Well I don’t know what a missionary position is, but I think we can manage this just fine. Are you ready? Or do you need a break.” As if to declare its vote for readiness, Dirk’s cock grew into an erection that poked Briar in the ass.

"Do ya have to read that out loud?!" Briar groaned, getting especially squirmy at the parts about intimacy and eye contact. But there was a reason she had picked it. She'd loved the...dog one...for the dirty fun it was, but the face to face shit felt...well...

Ugh. So she liked kissing! Big fucking deal!

She felt Dirk's cock press against her ass, was amazed at how quickly he was ready to go again--what was with all those stories of the guy just rolling over and snoring after he came?--and she squeezed him a little tighter, pressing kisses to his neck and shoulder. Poor women. She sure as hell wasn't complaining. But maybe she would later; her sex felt sore and achy, but she wasn't yet ready to throw in the towel. She wanted to take full advantage of this while she could, and if that meant enduring a little pain for the pleasure, so be it.

"Mm. I'm kinda sore, but if ya wanna kiss me and play with my tits, I think I'll be good to go," she said, sliding her hands up to cup his face before pulling him in for another kiss, tongue sliding against his lips.

        Dirk would not refuse such a request. He returned Briar’s kiss hungrily, grabbing her tongue with his lips on impulse, and touching it with his own. He moved his mouth to her neck, kissing her there as he massaged her breasts. He moved his hand between Briars legs as he moved himself and positioned her into the angle the book had shown. Dirk rubbed his lovers clit with his thumb, as he leaned, somewhat awkwardly to kiss her mouth. She was slick with both their fluids, so he knew entry wouldn’t be an issue, even as his cock pressed against her opening. He moved his hand back up to her breasts, massaging them thoroughly, as he prepared to slide his cock back into Briar. He’d set the angle of his cock in preparation and as her moans mingled into their kisses, he gently slid himself inside.
        Shaft fully buried in his lover, Dirk rocked his hips, leaning back to give himself better traction. Fondling Briar became more difficult as his motions increased in vigor, and he held her leg up to maximize his penetration. It felt amazing. The added points of new contact between their bodies was amazing. Being able to see all of her body was wonderful, but his favorite part was her eyes. She didn’t keep them on him the whole time, but when she looked at him with that pleasure on her face, that look of real bliss, it made him proud to be pleasing her, happy to share this with her. He kept at it, reading her body language and angling his hips to hit her the best way. When she finally climaxed, a shuddering spasm and tensing of muscles that had her legs fighting to force him out, he felt satisfied at a job well done. His thrusts did not cease though, as he knew she would want him to fill her again. She had shuddered with pleasure the last two times he’d put his seed in her, so he planned to do it again. Then the bells gave off a little chime.
        Dirk froze for a moment, head whipping around to scan the area beyond the camp, but he couldn’t see that well beyond the light without aid. He was off of Briar in a flash, rolling to his bag. Hands reached inside coming out with his magical bits and baubs. Circlet in place on his head and goggles on his face, he reached back into his bag grabbing a bow and quiver tossing them both to Briar. “I hope you can shoot.” He also tossed a spare blade to her and then pulled out his own dirk and short sword, getting into a fighting stance as two antlered figures approached. He was as naked as his blades, but he would not go down without a fight.

Briar was beside herself with pleasure, rocking her hips into his thrusts to grind against him, finding it easier to move with him in this position. He knew how to play her body like an instrument, and all she could do was writhe and cry out for more, beg him to keep fucking her. She had come once already, but she could feel another quickly building on the tail end of that one, and as Dirk grew more intense, she grabbed at his arms and sobbed her pleasure, urged him on for more. This felt amazing, the way he could still touch her and kiss her, the way she could look at him even as he sank in deep.

She was close, so close, and she could feel that he was, too, in the way he grew impossibly hard, the way he seemed so swell and fill her to the brim--

It all came to a sudden stop.

"H-hey, what the--?" Briar gasped, a jolt of alarm gripping her as Dirk rolled off of her and into action before she could even comprehend the danger. For a moment she just lay there in utter confusion--had she done something wrong, was he okay? What? She pushed herself up quickly, legs shaky, and stared as Dirk donned a few items, and grabbed weapons for himself and for her.

...Uh.

Her eyes widened as he tossed her the bow and quiver, and the danger finally started to register, though she didn't know what she was in danger from. Heart beating wildly, still utterly lost, she picked up the bow and held it, face going pale, and snatched up the knife instead. Shit. "Normally!" she said, a note of panic in her voice. "But I can't shoot for shit now! Why? What the fuck's goin' on?"

She had been so happy to be free of her curse, but now it was quite the opposite. Without her abilities, she was helpless. She could shoot a bow--when she could steal the owner's ability! But she had no training, no muscle memory, no knowledge of proper form to help her. It was just wood in her hands now, and the knife was not much better. At least with the blade she knew the basics: put the pointy end in the fleshy bits.

Heart in her throat, she stayed down where she was and held the knife in a white-knuckled grip. She was naked in every possible way--of her abilities, of her clothes--and her stomach flip-flopped in panic.

Then two shapes came into view, dark silhouettes at first before coming into focus, bipedal creatures with wings and antlers that made her mind recoil in horror: peryton! Flesh-eaters! And the one was snarling, wings unfurled, ready to launch itself at them both--

Until it suddenly stopped and stared, and said a single word that made Briar freeze: "Dirk?"

"...The fuck..."

        There was definitely something familiar about that peryton even before she said Dirk's name, but he was definitely confused as to how she knew his name. Then he looked passed her to the male behind, and while the form was different in many ways, there were clear signs that he recognized and all the alarm slipped away. Axieva and Rit. A different Rit than the earlier one by the look of it.
        "Welcome," Dirk said, easily slipping into the language of the northern people and the peryton's. He bent down to his bag and put his blades away and then stood and removed the goggles from his face. "My bells alerted me to intruders, and I did not expect honored guests. I owe all that I am to you Aana. Be welcome in my camp. And my Aata is with you I see. A different him was here just a few hours ago." Dirk pulled off the rest of his gear bending to stow it in his bag before gesturing to Briar, and switching to the tongue commonly used in this part of Adela. "This is my cherished companion, Briar. Briar, I'd like you to meet Axieva. Her choice to step in for my benefit led Rit to take me in and raise me and train me."

Briar may not have been able to understand a word Dirk was saying, but she could see the change in body language of all involved, hear the friendliness--respect, even--in his tone. He knew these creatures. Obviously he knew them, considering the one had called him by name!

She ran the gamut of emotions in that time. Fear quickly turned to confused bewilderment, to relief, to fresh horror of a new kind as the situation fully dawned on her--and that horror only grew when Dirk switched back to her language and introduced them. Introduced her to the female peryton--Axieva. Introduced them like she wasn't kneeling there, naked, covered in sweat and leaking semen.

And, of course, as if things couldn't get any worse, she was still frozen in place, reeling, when the universe decided to deliver another crushing blow.

The other peryton shifted, no longer a peryton at all but was instead the man that had given them the book, given her the letter, taken away her curse. Briar couldn't breathe, her throat and chest impossibly tight, her eyes wide as a rabbit cornered by a cat.

“Hello, Sima. Sorry for the intrusion.”

With an incoherent cry that was half curse, half yelp, Briar grabbed the blankets and threw them over her head and prayed for the ground to swallow her. Was she crazy? Was she going batshit insane? Dirk was just standing there, naked as a jaybird and equally debauched, carrying on conversation like it was nothing! And so were they! Was she the crazy one here?!

"Kill me," she said from beneath the covers. "Just fuckin' kill me. Your sword. My heart. Slit my throat for good measure. It'll be a fuckin' mercy killing, Dirk, just end me."

Axieva blinked slowly, completely at a loss. She looked over at Dirk, then at Rit, and shrugged. "Shall I?"

        It was Rit that stepped in. Laughed, and placed a hand on Axieva. “No my mate,” he told Axieva, returning the conversation to the peryton’s native tongue once more. “She does not speak literally. Human culture is complex, and Dirk is not learned in its ways. This is an extremely embarrassing moment for young Briar. She’d compare its embarrassment to the shame you felt when you were slipping and sliding on the hard rock surface when we first met. Though I think she’d rate this as much worse.” Rit laughed again, “You know how humans are weird about nudity and privacy. Dirk is an exception since he was raised by me and those things matter not at all to me. If she could understand the words I was saying she’d be even further embarrassed, my laughing surely did not help. I’ll give her a gift that will hopefully make amends.”
        Dirk’s growing understanding at the horror of the situation and how it made Briar feel, slowly spread across his face as Rit spoke. He turned to move to Briar, only to pause as he realized he was now wearing clothes. A loose fitting and billowy pair of grey pants and a cream colored tunic both made of a loosely woven fine wool thread. He could also feel that he was totally clean and felt entirely well rested. He looked to his master, fully aware of the miracles that the god-like entity could create, then turned to Briar under her blanket barrier. He reached for the blanket and pulled it back to find a cleaned and dressed woman beneath. Hair braided, the ends dyed a bright red and streaks of red throughout. Kohl lined her eyes, her lips were painted a lovely shade of red, and all her piercings had been replaced with platinum and rubies. The blood red tunic she wore was close fitting but a flexible material, good for movement, the pants the same material, but a very dark grey. A dark cloak, just like Dirk’s hung around her shoulders, the hood down, magic dormant. And where her boots had sat next to her, waiting to be replaced by the ones that Dirk had promised to make her, was a pair that looked to match Dirk’s as well.
        “You’ll find a new sword in your bag for her as well,” Rit told Dirk, speaking plainly for all to understand. “The memories inside it will serve her well, and the blade will not break or dull.”

"A shame," Axieva sighed, ears drooping as she realized that she would be getting no human liver today. Humans and their strange ways of speaking. She should not ask for death when she didn't really want it! She looked over at Dirk, and then back to Rit. "But I suppose it would be rude to kill his doe. I don't see what is embarrassing. They were only mating."

She looked over at Dirk then, lips quirking in a small smile. She nodded at him, still speaking to him in her native tongue. "You have grown. Have you any fawns yet?"

Briar was quite happy beneath the blanket, happy to pretend that if she couldn't see them, they didn't exist! But she felt a tug at the blanket and it was peeled back before she could get a good hold on it. "Dirk!" she yelped, lunging for it, but it was too late, she was exposed and--

...Clothed?

And clean?

She sat back on her heels and looked down at herself, plucking at her tunic, at the cloak, staring down at her pants. She felt at her hair, feeling the braids, and the bedding beneath her was dry, her own body clean beneath the clothes. She looked over at Rit--how he did it, she had no clue, but if he could remove her curse, then why not magic on some clothes, too? And then she looked at Dirk, slowly reached back to feel for her hood--and promptly pulled it over her head and down over her face as low as it would go, folding her arms over her chest and hunkering down. Just because she was clothed didn't mean she wanted to show her face just yet. They had still seen her butt-ass naked and post-fuck! They had seen parts of her she was only okay with Dirk seeing!

And worse, but Rit had been laughing! Laughing! She couldn't understand what he was saying, but she could only imagine!

"A sword. Nice. Uh. Yeah." She curled her knees up against her chest. Boy, this was awkward as fuck; she couldn't stop squirming, like her soul wanted to leave her body. "And, uh, hey. Powerful guy. Don't call me that. That name. Also--what the hell's going on?"

"I'm so sorry," Dirk said to Briar. "Rit is correct in saying I don't understand, but I do know how to feel bad for your embarrassment and causing it." Briar didn't know the command to activate the cloak, so the shadows didn't thicken around her. She looked adorably foolish with the hood pulled down to cover her face though. Rit couldn't help but smile at it, but Dirk's distress wasn't lessened. Distress was a feeling he wasn't very familiar with, though there had been a few times he'd felt it. He only knew he didn't like it, and that it was a kind of fear. Fear linked to Briar's mood in this case and that making her feel bad could damage their relationship.
        "I'm so so sorry. Axieva does not care, her people rarely wear clothes and they all live in communal space to keep warm so they have no concept of privacy. You have to mate right in the same room as everyone else. And Rit's just Rit. Gods don't have shame, not like us. Please don't be upset. Axieva is very important to me. Come meet her. I promise she won't try to eat you."
        Dirk stepped away from Briar, giving her time to collect herself as he moved to interact with their new guests. "I do not have children," he told Axieva, using the peryton language out of respect. "Human babies take a few months longer than peryton babies to be born and my first time mating only just happened."

"Maybe you will have young soon then? Though your mate should be laying down now to increase your luck. Your seed will just come out otherwise." Axieva said, clapping him on the shoulder like an elder dispensing important life advice. "I promise my children will not hunt yours. I influenced your fate. I take some responsibility for you, then. Perhaps ours can play together one day."

She frowned as she said it, brow creasing. Why was she so interested in--and even excited about--the idea of fawns suddenly? It wasn't something she talked about, not since she had lost her unborn young so many years ago.

Meanwhile, Briar just wanted to curl up and disappear. She didn't care that Rit and Axieva were shameless and unbothered, or that it was even normal to them--it was still embarrassing as fuck! How could she look these people in the eyes?

Dirk was trying so hard to play damage control, and she wasn't upset with him. How could he have known? He thought they were being attacked. And he sounded miserable now--kind of pathetic, to be honest. Briar grit her teeth, wanting to just stay where she was and wallow in her shame until they were gone, but goddamn it...he sounded downright pitiful.

She huffed out a breath, tensing her jaw. He walked away to go talk with the peryton, and she hunkered down. For a time.

For a few moments more.

He sounded pretty distressed...

He realized it wasn't his fault, right? That she was bothered by the situation, and not by him, right? Not that it really mattered, the naive fool.

She wasn't worried. Wasn't like it mattered.

...Fucking fuck.

"Ugh, fiiiiiiine. If it'll make ya stop actin' like someone just murdered your dog and fed ya the meat," she grumbled under her breath, more to herself than to anyone, and flipped her hood back. She rose to her feet and folded her arms over her breasts as she shuffled to where Dirk stood with the peryton creature and Rit where they conversed in that strange foreign language.

"So." Briar cleared her throat and elbowed Dirk in the side, just enough to get his attention. "Wanna start over?"

        Dirk smiled at Briar, understanding her meaning for once. "Axieva this is Briar. Briar, Axieva is the second most important entity to my existence. Without her I would still be a feeble child on the streets of Zantaric with not much time left to live." He bowed his head to the Peryton, "I will always be grateful for your interference." He then gestures to Rit. "You met my master earlier, but have you met her yet," he shifted the question to the timeless man behind the peryton.
        "I haven't met this Briar yet," he told Dirk then turned to Briar. "I hope future me wasn't too rough with you. I can be unpredictable at times. You're one of the best Briar's I've met though. You didn't kill Dirk, and that's always a plus in my experience. I hope you two have the best possible future in this timeline. You'll both be so happy, even if right now the idea of staying with him forever is terrifying." Then Rit spoke right into her mind so only she could here. He will never lie to you or betray you. No matter how hard you push him. Once he realizes what love is, he will give you all of his. A knowing wink was all he gave her after that.
        "So," Rit said, turning back to Dirk, "Would you care to eat? I can make us a feast and you can tell us about you trip through the desert and your time in Hyoite before you came back and met Briar." Dirk beamed, knowing the great food Rit could create for them.

"Uh, hey," Briar said, giving an awkward wave, staring at the Peryton. It was becoming rapidly clear that there was a lot she had to learn about Dirk, considering she currently had no idea what the hell was going on and felt rather like she had entered some bizarre alternate world.

Axieva nodded to Briar, easily putting behind the fact that she had offered to kill her and meant it. "I did not do much. I just yelled at his worthless mother. It was frustrating," she said with a shrug. "But I am pleased he's doing well, and that he has grown into a strong young buck."

What could she say? He had grown on her. He showed her proper respect and everything!

And then there was Rit.

Briar's eyebrows climbed with each word he spoke. One of the best Briars? He wasn't the same Rit? Something about her killing Dirk? Staying with Dirk forever? Uhhhh what??

His voice in her mind made her jump, and his words and wink brought fresh heat to her face.

What the everloving fuck was he talking about?!

It took every bit of willpower not to violently react, to keep her expression blank, and she was probably failing miserably with the panic shining through her eyes. There were two Rits. And one of them had given her information no one should know, had used a name dead to her, broke her curse for a time, given her the ability to read fluently! And now this one was speaking crazy! And Dirk called him a god!

Breathe. Breathe!

"I need to sit down," was all she said before she headed back to her cot and flopped down onto it, needing a space to quietly freak out in.

Dirk turned to chase Briar, and Rit put a hand on his arm. “Give her a moment,” Rit told him. “You had decades of living and training with me. I terrified Axieva when we met by coming back to life after she ate me. Briar has no experience with this madness. We’re lucky her mind hasn’t broken from all the trauma we’re putting her through.” Dirk looked a bit downtrodden, but didn’t pursue his new lover. Instead he turned back to Rit, who with a thought, rearranged the entire camp into something more. The trees within the encampment all vanished, save for the largest one which grew taller and thicker and moved to the perfect center of the ring. The tree’s center became hollow for a chimney and its base opened into a large fire pit. The branches of all the surrounding trees wove together and spread above into a canopy roof. Most of Dirk’s things packed themselves up into his magic sack, while the skins he was drying moved to a spot to the side. A medium table, large enough to easily seat the four of them, sprang into existence and four sturdy but comfortably padded chairs along with it. A proper kitchen set up sprang up around the large central tree and it’s fire pit, including a bread oven, a rotisserie, and a four burner wood burning stove. Briar and her cot were moved to the back of the ring to a now curtained off area. The cot and blankets though, vanished and were replaced with a large bed fit for a king sized, covered in the softest warmest blankets and an abundance of pillows. Alba was moved to her own curtained area, and given a much smaller bed, no less comfortable and covered in pillows. The change did not disturb her in her magical sleep. Though there were not proper walls around the camp, a lattice with beautiful flowering vines surrounded them. The floor beneath their feet was a smooth solid piece of marble with strategically placed plush rugs. Close examination of the floor would reveal that around the outside edge was intricately carved runes that gave the space many powerful magic protections. On the table were all of Dirk’s favorites, Briar’s favorites, and most of Axieva’s. There would be no dining on humans today.
        “When you’re ready to join us,” Rit called to Briar, “there’s chicken pot pie with potatoes and black berry pie for dessert.”

Axieva was quite used to this madness by now, though every now and then Rit could still surprise her—but not shock her. So she watched with passive curiosity as the camp rearranged itself in a blink, nothing she hadn't seen him do before but no less amazing. Especially when the end result was extra comfort and copious amounts of food.

Even if that food lacked human livers, she noted with a soft snort. Though she could see why that would be offensive. It would be the same as if they decided to serve venison with her present. Oh well. She would enjoy the cow instead, nice and bloody.

With a fluff of her wings, she settled down at the table to wait for the others, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle. It was rude to eat before the one who had provided the spoils from the hunt. Even if this wasn't a literal hunt.

For Briar, it was one surprise after another, and the next was when her cot decided to transform right beneath her. She gasped in alarm and leaped off her new bed, having been caught off guard, and then she just stared at the new, luxurious bed like it was a snake and she wasn't sure whether it was venomous or not. She was still staring at it, and poking at the pillows, when Rit called for her and she saw that it wasn't just her bed that was different, but the entire camp that had changed.

This had to be a dream.

She rubbed at her face, taking another deep breath. This was so crazy. But her belly also chose that moment to betray her with a grumble; they had been fucking for who knew how long, and that worked up quite the appetite. And...she fucking loved that shit. And hadn't had it in ages. Ugh...

Fiiiine.

Just. Breathe.

She crept back into the thick of the camp, walking like one in a dream, until she found Dirk and slipped in close beside him, a hand on his arm like he was the one real thing in this bastion of madness. "...Didja say blackberry pie?"

        "I definitely said blackberry pie," Rit responded. "I will also be conjuring up frozen treats once everyone has eaten. Otherwise they will just melt, and nobody would want that." He began to pile all kinds of strange looking food into a plate in front of him. Nothing gross though, he didn't want to ruin anyone's appetite with terrifying alien cuisine. Dirk was filling his plate with alien cuisine, though it mostly consisted of oddly colored foods, like bright yellow sausages, purple eggs, and a very pink potato-like mash.
        Dirk let out a contented sigh as he took his first bite. "Space breakfast is the best meal of the day."

"Space...breakfast...?" Briar repeated as she watched Dirk and Rit fill their plates with strange, unnaturally colored foods. She made a face, and instead looked over toward what looked like the chicken pot pie.

"Does that have, like, real chicken in it? Or is it gonna be like...?" She motioned toward the bizarre shit he was eating. "What is that? It looks like something faeries and unicorns barfed up."

        "Food from other worlds," Dirk and Rit said simultaneously. Followed by, "Jinx you owe me a coke." Then they locked eyes across the table and laughed. Moving on as if the exchange never happened Rit said, "It's real chicken. I wouldn't try to traumatize you further with anything that you were unfamiliar with eating. But feel free to try anything on the table. Axieva only eats food from this world, but she prefers things raw or close to it, so I recommend things Dirk eats, like those Ameglian Major beef sausages and Pikka Bird eggs with boiled Joopleberry mash. They taste very similar to common earth varieties with a bit more flavor and slightly different textures."

Both Briar and Axieva gave the two men a strange look, but then Axieva shrugged, picked up a slab of red meat with her fingers, and took a large bite, juices running down her chin. Suppressing the urge to gag, Briar pulled the pot pie closer and sliced it open with a knife.

"I'll just stick to the normal shit," she said, giving Dirk's plate a glance.  "Still looks like faerie barf."

She picked at her food, even though it tasted amazing, shoulders hunched. She was trying, but it was very, very difficult to act normal and natural around two relative strangers who had seen her like that, and she was very pointedly avoiding eye contact.

"So, uh. You're not the same guy we saw before?" she asked at last, stabbing a piece of chicken that she had already stabbed twice before.

        “That most definitely was me, which there is only one of.” Rit smiled knowing his response would be a bit confusing. He held up a finger in pause as he finished chewing and swallowed the very grey colored noodles covered in dark green, almost black sauce. “There is a being more powerful than anything this world could imagine. It created this world. It created all the worlds in this reality, or at least authorized their creation.” He realized he was probably getting too complicated and waved his hand in the air as if to erase the line of thought. “Let me start over. You don’t need all that information.” Rit reached into the air grabbing a canned drink from nowhere. He cracked it open, took a big swig from it, and set the can down on the table. It was brightly decorated with words that said ‘Libra Station Cream Soda the Galaxies Finest.’ “An easier thing to understand is that I can travel to any point in time. There is only one of me but since I can decide to go to yesterday there can be more of me around at one time even though it’s the same me. Also I’m immortal so I can live through every experience in this world in any order. For example, you lost a really cool set of loaded dice a few months ago, but you didn’t actually lose them. I just now, during this explanation traveled to when you thought you lost them and stole them from you.” He tossed them on the table and they rolled around all the dishes to settle right in front of Briar. “There is nothing I can’t do. Making  a new world for myself is a possibility if I wanted, though that doesn’t excite me. I could even delete the Spirits of the Earth RP forum, but that would have serious consequences that my creator would not enjoy. It would anger the Goddess, creator of this world, as well as the lesser gods. Plus what’s the fun in that?”

Briar stared at Rit with a blank, slow-blinking expression as he prattled on about things that went far, far above her understanding. He spoke of gods and creation and such, and spoke of it so frankly, while she did her best to push down a rising sense of...dread? Unease? She simply no longer knew what she believed, and didn't much care to explore that avenue, anyway. She believed in something, she thought. Maybe. There probably had to be more than this. But she had no idea what, or what was real, and wasn't sure she wanted answers—and she certainly didn't feel she had any reason to believe this extraordinarily powerful man, much less anyone else in a position of spiritual leadership.

Once upon a time, she had been called a deity made flesh.

What a load of bullshit.

This guy was probably peddling  bullshit, too, just like the rest of them, she thought as she stared at the dice. Somehow. She had no fucking explanation for that, or how he would know about her lost dice, unless he had been watching her for quite some time—which was a creepy ass thought, to say the least.

Hair rising along the back of her neck, she snatched the dice up and snarled out, "How long have ya been fucking watching me?"

        "You specifically? Or every you that has and will exist everywhere and everywhen?" Rit took a bite of something battered and fried, and then grabbed his canned beverage. The can had now changed. It's color and the words on it were different. 'Aedolis Orange! The only orange soda you need!' "There's no need to worry Briar, I'm not spying on you. I can read your mind though, and while I won't look deep without your permission, I can tell from just your surface thoughts that you're taking this in a far different direction than I'm trying to." He popped something into his mouth that looked like fish on top of rice. Rice was expensive here in Adela, but with the power of creation at your fingertips there was little you couldn't do. "I'm not trying to sway your beliefs. They don't really matter to me. Believe in whatever gods you want. They all exist after all, and there are so many more that you don't even know about, plus the beings that created those gods as well. I'm just telling you that I am always me, I just don't always happen in order. My timeline isn't straight."
        Dirk had been pretty much just stuffing his face with all the great space food while this conversation was going on. In sensing Briar's growing agitation he paused and reached out to lay a hand on hers. "It's okay," he said, catching her eye with his. He was showing a surprising amount of empathy for someone usually so emotionally clueless. "Rit can be very confusing, but he always has the balance of the Universe in mind. He's not looking to mess with your head."

"I don't believe in any gods!" Briar snapped, still bristling. It wasn't the truth, not exactly, but she could never admit her faith out loud. Deep down, she had to believe that there was more, that there was some explanation for the craziness and suffering in her life. She hated that she felt that way. She wished she could shake it. "It's all fake scammy bullshit. I really don't give a fuck about any of it. But I do give a fuck about you being in my head so kindly get the hell out."

She didn't know what he was on about talking about multiple hers—more crazy talk—so she focused on the concrete bits she did understand. Mind-reading was a thing some magical types could do and she never did trust those sorts. She didn't want anyone in her head. There always barely room enough for her as it was.

She was so tense and riled that Dirk's touch made her jump. She  snapped a look at him, anger blended with panic. "Well he is messing with my head and the fuck it's not okay! Who the fuck is he? Who is he really?"

And then her eyes narrowed. "For that matter, who are you?"

        Everything just froze in place. Dirk was frozen with the look of hurt on his face. Axieva was frozen with a piece of raw meat half in her mouth, droplets of blood stopped in mid air as they fell back to her plate. Rit was not frozen, and neither was Briar. He caught the girls look of shock when she realized everything had stopped moving, and snapped his fingers at her to get her attention.
        "Look at me Sima." His voice was not gentle, he was not amused. Briar was glued to her seat by his will, her hands unable to lift from the table, but she could move her head, and her eyes. He kept her quiet with a thought and looked her dead in the face. "I am not some mage that can perform parlor tricks. I'm an entity of unfathomable power. The gods this world worships are like bugs to me that I could snuff out with barely a thought. I apologize for overwhelming you with ideas that are beyond your primitive mind, but do not take out your frustrations on that boy." His shout of that single word vibrated through reality, rippling everything around them. "He is naive to many things in the world, I didn't teach him well about emotions. That's hard for me. I have existed so long that I've seen every being I've ever cared for die over the course of their infinite possible lives. He's started to care for you, and I will bless you both with what aid I'm allowed to give. He will never betray you, and he does not deserve to be treated harshly for any reason."
        Rit stood, his clothes changed to that of the ceremonial garb of Briars old cult, and he stepped toward her. "They are coming for you. They will find you, and they will kill you rather than let you be free in the world. You can survive if you trust in Dirk. He will protect you and he will save your life. If you betray that trust he will die, and you will follow him soon after." His clothing changed to that of an Adelan tribal next, and he took a small beaded trinket from inside his vest, setting the raven shaped bauble in front of Briar.
        "This is a talisman of a tribe that can help you," Rit said, "and this is how they dress." He gestured to the long black feathered cloak he wore and a raven mask appeared on his face. "There is only one possible future in which you live a long happy life. If you want it, you treat that boy right. Now I'm going to let you speak. Take a moment first to think. I'll answer any questions you have if I can. There are rules. I can't give you all the answers and I can't help you too much. The future balance weighs too much on you and I must limit my interference." He sat back down and looked at Briar with genuine sympathy. "I do not envy all the suffering you will go through, and I know your life was hard. You know Dirk was the discarded son of a whore. His life was hard too. Miracles brought you two together in this journey. Don't waste them Briar." With a snap of his fingers Rit released the hold on Briars tongue, but he knew the rage and fear in her so kept her hands on the table and her ass in her seat. He'd keep his word to answer her questions as best he could.

The silence fell as jarringly as a thunderclap, and the world slammed to a stop—and Briar with it. Her hands, once gesturing in fury, dropped flat onto the surface of the table and stuck there as if held by a powerful magnet. The birds stopped singing, many frozen in mid-flight, the leaves of their trees no longer rustling. Dirk was motionless as a doll, and Axieva with him.

Rit, however, was not.

Briar opened her mouth, words on the tip of her tongue, lips forming the shapes: What the FUCK? But no sound escaped. She opened her mouth again, jerking her body, but when she found she couldn’t move as well as couldn’t speak, shock quickly bloomed into panic. Shit, fuck, this wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real!

The sharp snap of fingers made her flinch, and the blood drained from her face as her eyes met Rit’s. They were as good as alone now, and she was trapped with a man that was far more dangerous than she could have predicted.

And he looked displeased.

He spoke her name, her birth name, and she flinched again as her pulse rose to a drumming in her ears. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She wanted to sink further into her seat until she was nothing, but she couldn’t move. She could only sit there and listen, wincingly, as he...scolded her? Was she being scolded right now? Was that what this was? Beneath the panic, a sort of hysterical giggle rose in her chest but was trapped in her throat. What the fuck. What the fuck. She was being scolded by a guy claiming to be more powerful than gods, because she had snapped at his son, and some buried part of her was a little impressed, a little proud of his protectiveness, a little envious—as much as she was terrified. This guy loved Dirk. That was what parents were supposed to be like, right?

It was true, Dirk had been collateral in her outburst—she wasn’t mad at him, she was just thrown off balance by the situation. She really hadn’t meant to turn on him, it was just that he was safe. She stole a glance his way, saw the hurt frozen on his face, and looked away quickly—

In time to see a man in the garb of her people advancing toward her.

If she had been able to move, she would have screamed, would have fallen from her seat in her haste to scramble away. But she could do nothing but stare in unbridled fear, her breath catching in her throat and her teeth clenched so hard they hurt. It was Rit. She recognized his face as Rit. But that did little to ease her terror, because he knew, he knew her name, he knew her people—and he knew they were coming for her.

She felt dizzy as he spoke, her breathing quick and frantic as a rabbit’s. She liked to boast that she was fearless, liked to fancy herself a risk taker, but his words cut deep until they struck existential dread. They are coming for you. Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck no. They would kill her, too. She knew the truth of his words. After what she had done, the way she had left, the things she had done in the world...fuck. She had thought she was safe, thought she was free. How the fuck did they know where she was?

How the fuck had Dirk gotten tangled in this?

How could he help her?

Treat him right and they would both live?

What the fuck?

The thoughts tumbled through her mind, her blood cold and shoulders sore from tension. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and to her embarrassment, her vision stung and blurred. By the time Rit eased his hold on her, she felt light-headed. Take a moment to speak, he said.

Well, shit. Now that she could finally speak and ask questions of him, she wasn’t sure she could actually manage it. Her mouth was bone dry, her chest painfully tight. She sucked in a slow breath through her teeth and let it out through her nose.

“When?” she said at last, forcing the word out. She hated the tremble in her voice, and swallowed hard to try to control it as she tried again. “When are they, uh...when are they gonna...?” Her fingers twitched. She wanted to do something with her hands, needed to fidget, but they were still bound to the table. She wanted to know, and yet she didn’t. How much time did she have before they found her?

“Fuck. How the fuck is he supposed to help?” she said, jerking her chin at Dirk. “They’re fucking crazy. If they really want me dead, there’s not all that fucking much any of us can do about it.” She drew another breath, shaky, and looked at Dirk again, a brief look of pain flickering over her expression. “I should leave. I should fucking go. Let me go!”

        Briar was clearly shaken, and she was definitely responding better than Rit anticipated. He could see all the different possibilities spread before him, but this wasn’t quite the one he expected. It wasn’t one he had lived many times before. So she cared for Dirk, a lot. Maybe even budding love. That was good. They’d both live if they trusted in that love more than anything else and stood together. “I won’t let you go without knowing that if you leave him you will die. Dirk will most likely live in that case, and he will kill the entire cult, but he will never find happiness. He will never be fulfilled. Do you want him to live the rest of his life miserable?” Rit created a bubble that had many images flickering across it quickly. Briar and Dirk were there and many of the images looked similar but some were not. “They can find you in as little as three months, but take as long as five years. Those are both extreme cases though. It’s more likely they’ll catch up to you in two or three years. Just enough time for you to learn to control your abilities and learn to fight without them. Dirk will help you learn, and the White Raven of the Wayuhina will aid you in other ways.”

Briar bit her lip, a chill going down her spine. No, she really didn't want to leave. It was true she hadn't known Dirk long, and their beginning had been rough and fraught, but she...wasn't quite ready for that to end yet, either. She had to stick around. Had to explore his body a little more. Had to make sure Polly was okay. Had to give him a hard time. That was all, right? Right.

She wasn't yet ready to move on.

But she was scared to stay.

Scared to go.

Fuck this.

She shivered, dropping her eyes to the table. "And if I stay it'll...all just be okay? That what you're saying?"

        "I'm saying that your best chance at not only living, but being happy, is to stay." Rit looked over at Dirk with great fondness in his eyes. "It's easy to say that you'll die for someone, though Dirk would gladly die for you. He would do something even greater, and harder still." Rit looked at Briar with a sad sympathy. "I know it's hard for you to imagine what love is really like, but that boy will love you, and he will live for you. Your life won't be easy. Nothing worth the trouble is ever easy. You'll be happier than you can possibly fathom though. Anything else you want to ask?"

Briar stared at Rit like he had sprouted three heads. She stared long and hard, blinking slowly as his words stirred something strange and foreign in her belly, like she was standing at the edge of a cliff and gazing down at a bottom she couldn't see. It was a scary feeling, but also a head rush, and for a second she couldn't breathe, couldn't figure out what to do with the sensation.

She burst out laughing, the only way she knew to break the tension she felt, though her laughter came out a higher octave than normal. Slightly panicky.

"No fucking way," she said when she could speak again, gasping for air. "That's fucking crazy. You're crazy. We just—how would you know that? We just barely met! There's no goddamn way." And then, sobering, she added, "Fuck. He'd be crazy to feel that. I'm not a good person."

She looked away from Rit, studying her hands. She didn't want to dwell on the subject. She nodded at the charm on the table. "Tell me more about that. The raven guy. How's he supposed to help?"

        I know you can't comprehend it right now Briar," Rit said with somewhat of a grin, "but he will come to love you." He released her hands from their spots on the table, though she was still affixed to her seat, and created a glass of peach schnapps in front of her. "Something to calm your nerves," he said, motioning to the glass.
        "The White Raven is a powerful precognitive. In terms you'd understand, they're a Seer," Rit explained. "The bauble I'm giving you will grant you privilege among the Wayuhina tribe. They will help you with information about possible futures. They may also be able to direct you toward others with your rare ability," Rit continued. "You're not unique in your possession of psychometry, your ability to read the memories of things you touch. There are others like you in the tribes. Dirk will be a great teacher to help you learn to fight and have your own innate skill with weapons and combat, but he can only help you practice your ability so much. You need a proper teacher. What else would you like to know? You can literally ask me anything. There are lots of things I can't tell you or will have to answer you vaguely, but that doesn't mean you can't ask."

He will come to love you.

Briar didn't know what was in the glass, but the moment her hands were free, she chugged half of it down in a few long gulps. Another time and she would have appreciated its sweetness, something she wasn't used to in the alcohol she typically consumed, but right then she was a bit too distracted to even taste. This had to be a joke. Love her? What the fuck?

People didn't love people like her. Not even her own parents had. He would have to be crazy, and she sure as fuck didn't deserve it.

"Yeah fuckin' right," she snorted with a roll of her eyes that she hoped would hide her panic. "Guy's naive as hell but he's not stupid. Sweet little paladin smitten by a fucked up bitch like me? Pfffft. We're just having fun right now. That's all."

Right?

It was a bit difficult to focus on the rest of what he was saying, even though it sounded drastically more important, with her pulse hammering within her ears. Right, psychometry--was that what her curse was called? Tribes. Teacher. Someone could teach her how the hell to control this? She downed the rest of her glass in a few more swigs. She could use like...quadruple the amount of this shit. Getting utterly wasted sounded kind of wonderful. You know, a nice, healthy way to deal with and process all the craziness she felt right now.

When he invited her to ask more questions, she pointed at the empty glass. "First of all, got more of that?" she asked. "Second, uh...shitballs. I don't know." She scrubbed a hand through her hair, leaning her arm on the table with her hand coming to rest along her temple, massaging it. She probably had a lot of questions, but they all flew right out of her head the moment she was put on the spot. And she still felt like she was losing her mind, like maybe this was some crazy mental breakdown? She was probably overdue for one of those.

She threw her hands up. "Fine, what the fuck. Why's the sky blue? Where's Alba's parents? What happens after ya die? Are my parents still alive? Will I ever get to ride a dragon?"

        With no more than a thought Briar's glass was refilled and a bottle of peach schnapps appeared on the table in front of her. "The sky is blue because two gasses that make up the air, oxygen and nitrogen, act like a lamp shade surrounding the earth. When the sun shines through the lamp shade, all the light is filtered out except for the blue light, which is what we get to see and the reason the sky looks blue." Rit figured Briar probably wouldn't understand any more of a complex explanation with light refraction involved and so he tried to keep it simple. "Alba's parents were killed by the bandits that had her, but her very kindly grandmother can be found in Ketra, her name is Sel'nerra. After you die you go wherever your creator decides. Your parents are indeed alive. And yes, you will be riding a dragon. Not too far into the future either."
        Rit stood back up and walked closer to Briar, a chair appeared near her and he sat. At this point she seemed much more amenable so he freed her from any restrictions and she was able to move freely. He looked at her seriously before he continued.
        "I know it's hard to believe but you're not a bad person," Rit knew she'd scoff but he needed to at least plant the seed. "You were dealt some shit cards. The Goddess that created you wanted you to struggle. For one thing struggles are more interesting than a simple happy life where nothing goes wrong. For another struggles make stronger characters. You are strong and you're interesting. You're damaged, yes, and you have a sensitive vulnerable core that you cover with briars to protect, but you are so much more. You have the chance here to grow. To become even stronger. To find happiness and adventure. He will come to love you and you will also learn to love yourself. It's gonna take a while but you're gonna get there." He stood and walked away from Briar, the chair disappearing as if it had never been there. He returned to his other seat and sat back down.
        "If you can manage to hold that self loathing in check for a bit I'm willing to answer one more question for you. You have a practically all knowing being here. Make it a good one."

Briar really liked the part where Rit answered all her nonsense, and not-so-nonsense, questions. That part was useful! Like the shit about Alba--good to know, now they had a lead and could figure out what to do with her. The sky stuff she didn't quite understand, and the bit about her parents was both relieving and disappointing, and the dragon thing? She really wanted to circle back to the dragon thing because was he fucking serious? She'd get to ride a dragon? Whaaaat? When? How?!

The dragon thing almost made the parent thing sting less.

That was all great, though! She could spit out questions all day! Sure, not everything he said made sense, but as long as they were playing questions and answers, they weren't talking about other things. Uncomfortable things. Like the previous topics about, uh, love and shit or whatever.

Which was why her heart sank when Rit moved closer to her and even brought out a fucking chair, because that the sort of thing people did when things were about to get real.

And he read her like a goddamned book.

Briar chugged her second glass of the booze as he spoke, and did everything in her power to look anywhere but at him. This was even less enjoyable and uncomfortable than the Dirk conversation, and she clutched the glass between her hands tight enough she was surprised she didn't crack it. She snorted at his assessment, shaking her head. "Sensitive? Yeah fucking right, I'm not sensitive," she mumbled under her breath, shoulders hunching as she tried not to physically squirm. And of fucking course he had to circle right the hell back around to love and shit, just to make it even more awkward because why not?

Her cheeks were red by the time Rit packed up his chair and moved away again, though the color was hidden as she had slowly sank her face into one hand during his heart to heart. When he invited her to ask one last question, she cracked her fingers open enough to peer through them at Rit, and shook her head. Make it a good one, he said. No pressure.

With a deep breath, she sat up straight and let her hand fall away. "Uh, alright then. Huh. Um. Shit. I don't even fucking know."

No, that was a flat out lie.

She rubbed the back of her neck, shrugging uncomfortably, and looked away. "Alright. So. My peoples' faith. Is there any truth at all to any of it?"

        "Most of it is complete and utter bullshit," Rit replied. This hadn't been a question Briar was very likely to ask, but it was a definite possibility. "They're right that you'll grow more powerful, but that takes practice and training, not purity. The gift you have is rare but not unique, and definitely not a sign of divinity. The biggest problem with their religion is that most everyone actually believes it. The founder was a charlatan that manipulated and used people creating a cult to follow and worship him. He was just a man. Not divine at all. I'm sorry. I know that's not what you wanted to hear. At least you know that your people actually believe and that their behavior wasn't just sadism." He let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing on. "Take a moment, and when you're ready, I'll restart time."

A long stretch of silence followed Rit’s words. Then, finally, Briar laughed, short and bitter.

“I figured as much,” she said with a shake of her head, smiling a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “Not like I ever believed that garbage. Fuck ‘em.”

But she had believed. At least a little, at least for a time, and then even when she hadn’t believed because she knew in her heart she was just a girl and not divine—even then, she had held onto the belief that, at the very least, she was special. At least special enough that it made sense to endure what she did.

Now she had come to find out that it was everything she had guessed and worse. She wasn’t special at all. Her ability wasn’t even unique.

Deep down, she had always held onto the notion that it all, at least, meant something. That it wasn’t all for nothing. But Rit had just confirmed that it was absolutely meaningless and always had been. Her people believed, but it was all one hundred percent bullshit, down to the last detail.

Drawing a deep breath, she steeled herself again, locked it all down, and looked back to Rit. “Go ahead. Do your time shenanigans.”

        Rit assumed the exact position he had been in when he froze time, and restarted it with no more than a thought. He slipped right into the motions he'd been in the middle of before, without showing any sign that anything had happened at all. Briar however was not in the same position and also had a new glass and bottle of booze in front of her. Dirk had grown quite accustomed to Rit's time stopping so the changes didn't go unnoticed. He leaned toward Briar and put his hand on hers.
        "Is everything okay?"

It was a strange sensation, watching everything start again. Strange and almost deafening, the abrupt return of birdsong and rustling leaves like a clap in her ears after the stillness and silence, and she was still gaining her bearings when she felt a hand on hers.

Briar jumped, but sucked in a breath when she saw it was just Dirk. Of course. Who else would it be? He hadn't moved.

She let her breath out slowly and forced herself to relax, mustering up a weak smile. "Yeah. It's fine. Why wouldn't it be?"

        "Your position changed, the expression on your face, your mood. How long did he freeze time for?" Dirk set down the fork that was still in his other hand and fully turned toward Briar. "From what little I remember of my quite distant past, I know that what Rit does is not normal. I'm sure it was likely shocking for you. I empathize. I probably wouldn't understand but if you desire a companion to listen to your thoughts and feelings, I'm always available to you."

Briar thought she had gotten herself under control. She wasn't okay, not by any definition of the word, but she thought she was passable enough not to show it. Goddamn Dirk was too goddamn perceptive, though, and his questions and genuine concern were not helping. She still wasn't used to his earnestness and care and pure unadulterated empathy, even about things he couldn't necessarily relate to. It wasn't something she was used to, and so she didn't know how she was supposed to even react to it.

She didn't like how vulnerable it made her feel while everything was still so fresh and raw.

She didn't like that, strangely, it made her eyes burn in a weird way and throat tighten painfully.

Her shoulders hunched and she shook her head fiercely. "I said it's fine," she said, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. She was afraid to say more, afraid her fear might tumble out with the words, or that she might choke up, or both. And if any of those things happened, it would be so goddamned embarrassing. Not here with an audience. Screw that.

"It was just fucking weird, is all. Felt like fucking forever." Her eyes flicked to the raven talisman on the table, and she curled a hand over it quickly, though likely not fast enough for Dirk to have missed it. "It's nothing. My head just bloody hurts."

Axieva stared at the three of them, a big glob of blood plopping onto the table as she chewed slowly, her attention more on Rit, Dirk, and Briar than on eating at this point. She had also noticed the very obvious change in Briar's position and mood, and she was also quite familiar with the odd things Rit could do. There was an undercurrent of drama coursing through their meal now, and they now had her undivided attention.

        Dirk was unsure of how to proceed. He had gathered from watching the interactions of others that he should be emotionally available. He had learned through his brief experience with Briar, that she was stubborn and bull headed, and if he pressed her she was likely to just get angry. So he figured it was probably best if he just let it go.
        "Well if you change your mind," Dirk let the sentence hang, unfinished, the implication obvious. He didn't know what to do or say now though. He took a bite of his mash covered in that bright colored egg yolk, and Rit chimed in to fill the empty space.
        "So tell us about your trip from Essyrn to Hyoite. I'm sure Axieva would love to hear about the desert, and what you thought of her homeland."

Hmm. Axieva finished her chunk of meat and then lowered her head to the table so she could lap up the puddle of blood left behind. She had never really been taught table manners--never had a need for them, and would probably scoff if anyone tried. Why shouldn't she lick up the remainders of her meal? What was the alternative, let it go to waste?

Briar, meanwhile, had stooped her brooding just long enough to watch the peryton start noisily licking at the table, her eyebrows rising. Ooookay then...that was...something else, alright.

"Later," Briar said to Dirk, voice curt. She pushed her food around on its plate, just to give herself something else to focus on that wasn't the peryton tonguing up blood, or the worst news she had received in years. Her other hand rested in her lap, thumb worrying over the talisman.

Fortunately, Rit spoke up to change the mood a little. Maybe not for Briar, but Axieva perked right up, ears raised curiously as she licked blood off her teeth. "You went to Hyoite?" she asked Dirk in her native tongue, head cocked. "When? Did you see...any of me? My kind?"

        Dirk couldn't help but smile at Axieva's excitement. He finished a bite of the chicken pot pie Rit had conjured for Briar. It was really good. Peppery and savory with crunchy vegetable bits and tender meat, and the gravy was so delicious. Still licking his lips he responded, "I didn't see any peryton while I was there. With how fierce they are, I'm not sure that would have been good for me." He took a swig of his soda before continuing. I met some human tribes, but I didn't stay long. The woman I was guiding had very specific requests so we found her a local guide and I returned shortly after." He took a bite of something that looked like thick worms or tentacles in a dark bloody looking sauce, that was in a bowl next to his eggs and 'potatoes' that he'd called space breakfast.
        "Essyrn was very interesting though. All those hills of sand in most areas, but the hoodoos were amazing and beautiful. They reminded me of that place you took me called the Grand Canyon."

Briar had no idea how Dirk could eat that shit. Just the sight of those wormy, bloody tentacles made her want to gag--for she had never seen a noodle before and had no idea what he was eating. Considering the lineup of...weird and colorful ingredients, and considering Axieva eating literal raw meat and blood, it could really be anything as far as she was concerned.

Axieva fluffed her wings a little, grinning and flashing her sharp teeth, before continuing still her her native tongue. "No, it wouldn't be good for you. They'd probably try to eat you, stringy as you'd be." As though to demonstrate, she poked his bicep. "Too much muscle, not much fat. If you ever do meet one, though, tell them my name. Tell them that you're mine."

Briar arched her brows.

"They will let you be, then."