There were many who called it a political marriage. A union based on a necessity for more factors to tie Airyglyph and Aquaria together as friendly nations. It was an old and universal tactic, practiced throughout the histories of dozens of worlds in the Milky Way galaxy, worlds that most of this planet’s residents would never in their lives know the existence of. But even from the perspective of the average resident of Elicoor II, it was an old maneuver in international diplomacy to have royalty of one country marry an important member of another.
It was a persistent annoyance to Nel Zelpher that she could not honestly say that this view on the marriage between her old friend Rozaria and the king of Airyglyph was false. The wisdom behind the old saying, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” had its limits to how completely it could unite nations which shortly before had been at war. Though there were many who welcomed the new alliance between Aquaria and Airyglyph after so long and bitter a struggle, one whose painful consequences had, in one way or another, been felt personally by nearly every citizen of each country, there were yet many who could not see the wisdom of these friendly relations. Could not, or perhaps would not…many who had lost family and friends still opposed working together with the country they blamed for their close ones’ deaths. Others still did not trust the other side’s wish for peace. And there were a few who had profited or stood to profit from the war, particularly the political allies of the late Airyglyph Dragon Brigade Commander Vox, who were naturally displeased with peace because it was, so to speak, bad for business. In the end, the catastrophic Vendeeni attack that Fayt had unwittingly brought upon Airyglyph and Aquaria could only be a catalyst for the start of a peaceful age between the two countries--it would take much, much more to maintain it.
So, with the pressure of building ties between the kingdoms that could withstand whatever trials the dissatisfied could concoct, Nel could not delude herself into thinking that politics had nothing to do with the ceremony that she was currently watching, in which King Airyglyph XIII was, as was in accordance to this ceremony’s tradition, kneeling before his bride Rozaria, daughter of the high priestess of Aquaria. But she was adamantly certain that there was far more to this ceremony than simple international convenience. Rozaria had loved this man for the better part of her life, and that long-lasting devotion and affection was a radiant glow softly emanating from her joyful eyes as her mother, who was performing the ceremony, asked the king if he would from that moment forthwith recognize his bride as a partner and equal in love, life, and spirit, as was custom. Try as it might, the light that filtered through the church’s many stained glass windows could not brighten and warm the room of worship as greatly as Rozaria’s smile as her groom confirmed what her mother had asked.
And though Nel was not an overly sentimental person by nature, she truly wanted to believe that the happiness in the king’s expression and eyes as he was bidden to stand was born of love as well.
The red-haired knight of Aquaria took her eyes off the ceremony for a moment to cast a sideways glance over at her fellow knight and other member of the Crimson Blade, Clair Lasbard, who was situated a few seats down on the same pew, squeezed between her father Adray and a recently promoted knight captain whose name Nel had not had a chance to find out. Adray had, amazingly enough, donned a shirt for this occasion. The shirt was, of course, far too casual to be appropriate for such an event, but his wearing one at all was a remarkable enough event as it was--Nel could only imagine how much trouble Clair must have gone through to get her father to wear it.
Clair seemed to be intently watching the ceremony’s proceedings, so Nel turned her attention back to them as well as the priestess began the typical small speech acknowledging and vindicating the groom’s promise. Queen Aquaria XXVII herself was a guest of honor in this wedding, so a number of Aquaria’s finest military personnel were also present to act as an honor guard for her. Although she could have sat among the friends and family of Rozaria, being one of the bride’s oldest companions, Nel had opted to take her place with her peers. She had done so out of a hope that she and Clair might have a chance to sit with one another, but seating arrangements had not favored this wish.
It had been more of a disappointment than Nel wanted to admit to herself. Opportunities to spend time with her lover had been few and far between during the war--real, quality time, that was, not simply exchanging information, making reports, and laying out strategies--and with the ensuing chaos after the Vendeeni invasion, then the time spent with Fayt and the others in ships and dimensions far beyond Nel’s understanding, and now recently the immense increase in duties to protect Aquaria’s well-being personally entrusted to her by her queen, the time that Nel and Clair had alone together had become next to nonexistent. Nel would, of course, never complain or even think to do so about how many tasks the queen was entrusting to her now--for Nel Zelpher, a sense of duty and dedication to her country was the greatest drive and emotion that she had. Still, she regretted how little she saw Clair these days. The romantic in Nel, the one most would never suspect she possessed, had envisioned her and Clair sitting together through the ceremony, holding hands and enjoying a small break from their near-constant duties.
But that was just how life was sometimes, and dwelling on this perhaps trivial disappointment would only sour what should be a happy occasion for all involved. Nel resettled herself in her seat, and continued to watch the ceremony.
***
It had been an enchantingly beautiful ceremony. Nel had not been to many weddings before, but she was certain that this had to have been one of the loveliest ever performed. Rozaria’s mother had executed the ceremony flawlessly (of course, one could expect no less from Aquaria’s High Priestess). But perhaps the most impressive part had been the High Priestess’s impassioned speech at the end, right before she officially pronounced her daughter and Airyglyph’s king wedded. Standing in the bright light, arms spread and reaching forward as though to embrace the entire congregation of people watching the ceremony, the priestess became the very image of the holy love of matrimony that she spoke of, with her daughter and her new husband standing before her as testament to this miracle. Nel severely doubted that even Aquaria I herself could have matched Rozaria’s mother’s pure, awe-inspiring divinity at that moment.
And then, there was the reception. It had been going on for roughly an hour now. From the highest ranking state officials to simple commoners who happened to be friends of Rozaria’s, everyone was taking his or her time and enjoying this respite from a busy and tiring time for both kingdoms after so much chaos. People danced, ate, conversed with one another, and personally congratulated the bride and groom, who sat observing the scene with a quiet happiness. It was a true shame that of all the Elicoorians that had personally assisted Fayt in saving the universe, Roger was the only one who didn’t have enough political standing in either Airyglyph or Aquaria to warrant an invitation, for the rambunctious youth would likely have enjoyed this event the most out of anyone. Then again, getting him and an ideal “Man’s Man” like Adray together with the intention of festivities was probably not a very good idea anyway.
Oddly enough, though, Nel was in a foul mood, and had been since the High Priestess had finished her speech and everyone had come to the reception. She had sat through all of the reception’s small festive traditions, and a short speech by Woltar, who was King Airyglyph’s Guiding Man (being the closest that the regent had to a male family member or friend), all the time with an unpleasant sense of discontent and slight anger gnawing at her. She’d tried to enjoy herself, to sit back, eat, and smile at the festivities around her, but found that this almost sickening discomfort only grew as she did. She didn’t feel hungry, she didn’t want to talk with others, and she didn’t want to dance. Nel knew Clair would want to come and spend time with her as soon as the leader of the Shield Legion could be sure that she could safely leave her father to his own devices for a few moments without risking catastrophe. But she didn’t even want to see Clair right now.
No, that wasn’t quite right. She especially didn’t want to see Clair right now.
To this end of total isolation from everyone else, Nel had quickly sought out Albel Nox to converse with. He leant against a far wall alone, and was likely the only person in the room who could possibly be enjoying himself less than she was.
Speaking to Albel was, as always, a slightly less rewarding experience than striking up a conversation with a wall. True to his personality, or severe lack thereof, Albel had felt that a single, disapproving and disdainful grunt to greet his former comrade had been a more than generous contribution to the sake of communication, and had not yet given Nel any further verbal acknowledgement that he even knew she was there (the haughty glowers, of course, left little doubt that he did, and didn’t like it). Still, putting up the appearance of having a conversation with the man at least kept others from approaching her while she did so, whether out of politely not wishing to interrupt, or, for those that knew him, just not really wanting to be around Albel.
Nel knew she was being foolish, which only served to make her more upset. She felt guilty that she felt anything but happiness on such an important day for her old friend. She also knew that she was wasting a rare opportunity to relax, something that she had not been often able to do recently, and would likely not have a chance to do again for some time with the work load she had to take on--a chance she knew she needed, too, for her own health. And worst of all, Nel knew that she was squandering a precious opportunity to connect with Clair, who by now surely was wondering why her lover was ignoring her. These feelings of guilt and foolishness continued to only stoke the nameless, directionless anger within as the minutes passed--and Albel’s sneer wasn’t really helping the situation, either.
A small commotion temporarily distracted her from the dual distastes of her negative feelings and Albel’s expression. Clair’s loud and irate voice was cutting through most of the chatting and soft music as she began to chastise her father. It seemed that Adray had been in the process of yet again organizing some competition amongst several seemingly random men for the prize of Clair’s hand in marriage. Apris only knew what the terms of a wedding competition would be. Maybe Adray had planned to marry his daughter off to the best dancer. As ever, Clair wasn’t standing for her father’s nonsense, and was delivering a small, completely exasperated speech that she would make her own decisions about this. It was not unlike many other speeches she’d made in the past on similar occasions, and Nel doubted it would have any more lasting an effect than its predecessors.
Witnessing this scene made Nel feel more miserable than ever. She needed to get out of here and be alone to think.
Nel politely excused herself from her former 4D-fighting ally’s presence, which provoked the closest thing to a positive response from Albel that she’d gotten yet, and left the large dining room that the reception was taking place within. She passed by the door guards outside, reassuring their questioning eyes with a casual shake of the head to indicate that nothing was amiss, and then made her way upstairs, to the queen’s throne room, and from there outside to the bright, greenery-wreathed balcony.
Finally outside with some space to herself, Nel breathed the fresh air in deeply as her eyes adjusted to the bright early afternoon sun’s light. The tranquil setting helped to calm her, if only a little, and focus on herself, on why she was so upset. Part of what had been bothering her before had simply been the fact that she was feeling an unidentified anger and regret at all. Nel was a very controlled person. She liked knowing where she stood with herself. Regardless of what happened around her, she strived mightily to keep her cool and stay focused, controlled, a calm person. There were few people who could face some of the things she had in the recent past without panicking at least a little, and even of those few, most agreed that she was the most cool and collected at all times. Only Albel and Roger came close--but Albel had his moments of absolute, maniacal fury, and Roger…well, Nel wasn’t always sure that the rascally youngster’s head was quite right.
So for Nel to have lost control of herself to such a degree as she had was shocking to her, and only worsened the situation.
Why was she feeling this way? What was it that was making her miserably angry? Why was that speech the priestess made rattling around in her head? It was driving her crazy.
“Nel?”
Nel turned from gazing at the city of Aquaria to see Clair step out of the building behind her. She stepped out of the shade, and Nel had a chance to see her wearing her ornate crimson dress, fancy frills and tresses and all, in good light for the first time that day. The effect of the bright sun on the deep red which complimented the woman’s dark gray hair would normally have been a breathtaking sight to Nel, but right now, all she could think was that Clair’s choice to seek her out now was a case of uncharacteristic bad timing.
“Hi,” Nel succinctly greeted her lover.
“Hello, Nel,” she responded, smiling. “Just wanted to get some air. Funny coincidence running into you out here, hm?”
Her playful voice left little doubt about how much of a “coincidence” it was. Nel didn’t respond, and turned back to looking out at Aquaria’s capital.
Clair seemed to pay no attention to Nel’s unusual aloofness, and came forward to stand by her. After a moment of silence, she said, “It was a lovely wedding, wasn’t it?”
Nel grunted aloof assent, and mumbled, “Probably all just for politics, though.”
This was ridiculous. Why did she say that? She didn’t truly believe that; she didn’t want to believe it!
“Oh come now, Nel,” chided her companion, “I know you don’t really think that. Just looking at them…it was obvious they were getting married because they loved each other. None of the other reasons for it were important to them.”
Why did hearing this make Nel feel even worse?
There were a few more moments of what was now becoming an uncomfortable silence, before Clair spoke up again, while moving to take Nel’s hand in her own and give it a squeeze. “I wish we could have sat by each other for it. It would have been nice. We don’t get much time together any more.”
Nel didn’t squeeze Clair’s hand back, nor did she look at her. “Yeah. It’s too bad.”
“Are you angry with me about something, Nel?”
“No.”
This was true, at least. Even though Clair’s presence and words were only making Nel more upset, and upset at being upset, she wasn’t angry at Clair specifically.
Clair let out a small sigh of resignation and disappointment at Nel’s bad mood. She refused to be so easily defeated by her fellow Crimson Blade’s standoffish behavior, however, and tried again to make conversation. “So how is Albel Nox?”
Nel let out a small, mirthless laugh, finally actually looking at the woman beside her. “Just as foolish and groundlessly arrogant as always.”
“Really? It’s odd that you talked with him for so long, then.”
There was a tiny edge to Clair’s voice now. Under normal circumstances, Nel wouldn’t have blamed her (or anyone else) for becoming a little impatient and annoyed at the way she was acting. Right now, however, all it did was to incense Nel, make her also start to lose her temper in response to Clair losing hers.
“You seemed busy being auctioned off as a prize by your father,” Nel said in retort.
This was absurd, of course; Clair had only become involved in that fiasco minutes before Nel had taken her leave of Albel.
Mentioning this did not improve Clair’s mood, instead causing her to recall her annoyance over the ordeal from before and find a new focus for it. “You know I’ve told him a dozen times to cease that nonsense. But you sound like you’re blaming me for it.”
“Maybe you like it. Having all those men competing over you, trying to win your hand in marriage…it must be nice to have that option open to you.”
It was a credit to Clair’s self-control that her voice only heated a little further as she responded, “Nel, that is ridiculous.”
Under normal circumstances, Nel would have agreed completely. Having her assertion called ridiculous, however, only worsened her already irrationally foul mood.
“Is it?” she asked sharply, now outright glaring at her partner. “You don’t seem to try very hard to get your father to stop.”
“I scold him all the time about--“
“He’d stop if you just told him about us.”
There was a sudden, furious silence, and even in her incensed state, Nel knew she’d gone much too far. Clair’s calm eyes of gray flashed with a real, honest, hurt anger almost totally unknown to them. This was not simple irritation over dealing with a stubborn and eccentric father, or upset disagreement with Nel over the latter taking too many risks to fulfill her duties. Clair was just wholly angry now.
“Is that what this is about?” she hissed in indignant fury. “That’s what you’re ruining our time together for? Is that it?”
Clair was very sensitive about the fact that she had not yet found the “right time” to tell Adray that she was already spoken for. Nel knew that Adray was not often an easy person to talk to, and more often than not, the scheduled duties of each of the dark-haired warriors kept them from seeing one another for extended periods of time. Thus, she had never before pressured Clair to tell her father about their relationship, and had often had to reassure Clair that she shouldn’t rush it or feel guilty over it (though she did anyway).
So what Nel had just said was, ultimately, an emotional betrayal, one serious enough that the guilt that washed over her snapped her out of her ill temper.
“Clair, I--” Nel started.
But before she could speak any words of apology, Clair grabbed her arm roughly, turned, and began pulling her back to the entrance to the castle’s entrance. Her grip was like an iron vice, her pace like an angrily charging Hauler beast, and her air like…well, there really wasn’t any comparison that could accurately describe the way Clair’s scowl permeated the air when she lost her temper. Having lost her own aimless anger and in the face of Clair’s more focused fit, Nel didn’t even think to try to resist until they were nearly at staircase leading to the ground floor of the castle’s interior.
Finally coming to her senses a little, Nel tried (totally unsuccessfully) to pull away, protesting, “Clair, what are you doing?”
Clair didn’t miss a step (literally) as she forcefully led Nel down the stairs, responding with a paradoxical tone both icy and heated, “I’m bringing you along so that you can see me tell my father in front of our friends, our subordinates, our superiors, our allies, and our queen that we’re in love and have been for years.”
They were at the bottom of the staircase now, and Clair continued to pull and furiously rant down the hallway. “Then if he starts making a scene, which I am sure he will if he doesn’t approve, and will even if he does approve, just about everyone important to us will be able to watch the show as I try to calm him down. Not the kind of setting I was waiting for to tell Father in.”
Here Clair abruptly stopped and spun around. “But I’ll do it! If it’s so important to you that you’re going to hold it against me and avoid me during the first time in months--months--that we’ve had to really enjoy each other’s company for more than an hour, then I’ll tell him right now!”
Clair was a sweet, caring, compassionate person. But she was frightening when angry.
“Clair,” Nel said, looking her old friend in the eye, “Please stop.”
Clair did not calm down. But neither did she speak again. She simply stopped and waited, her angry eyes glaring into Nel’s.
Nel looked away and said, “I’m sorry, Clair.”
“You should be,” Clair responded, slowly and clearly.
“I…I’m not angry at you, Clair,” Nel said in an almost meek tone.
“Well, you had me fooled.”
“Look, Clair, I…I don’t know. I’ve been in a terrible mood ever since this morning’s ceremony, and I just…don’t know why. And not knowing increases how badly I feel. It makes me mad at me, you, everything, and for some reason, it just seemed to get worse when I saw you, and you talked to me…I can’t…I can’t explain it. I’m sorry about this, Clair. I really am.”
The commander of the Shield Legion had also, by now, calmed down somewhat, and her voice was even as she chided, “Well, you shouldn’t have taken it out on me. That wasn’t fair, and you shouldn’t have said what you did. But…I forgive you.” She sighed, then asked, “When was it that you started to feel upset? Was it during the High Priestess’s speech?”
Looking back for a moment, Nel realized with some surprise that it had, indeed, been while listening to the speech that she had grown unreasonably angry. She had often said and thought that her lover knew her better than Nel herself did, but it was still eerie to her that Clair could infer this immediately.
“Yes…it was right around then…how did you know?”
Clair sighed again, this time regretfully. “That speech bothered me, too. Nel, you’re angry because we’ll never be married, and the whole wedding, especially the High Priestess talking about it, is just reminding you of that.
“When I heard her talking about marriage…it being the perfect way to consummate love, to show your love to others and each other…it made me feel very frustrated. It’s not fair that people like us can’t get married, no matter how much we love each other. I pushed it out of my mind so I could enjoy myself today, but it’s been bothering you this whole time, hasn’t it?”
Nel was silent for close to a minute, looking down to the floor in troubled thought. Clair released her hand finally, then moved forward to embrace her gently. As Clair hugged her, Nel hugged back, and said, “I…think you’re right. I guess it upset me a lot more.” She paused. “No…honestly, I think it’s been upsetting me for some time now.”
The issue had actually been weighing somewhat heavily in Nel’s mind for several months, ever since her travels with Fayt and the rest. During one of the periods of rest that the group had during space travel, Nel had decided to do some research on the worlds of her friends’ origins. Maria had helped her, showing her some rough basics on how to use a computer for such a purpose, and turning on a translation program to change the strange symbols that the Pangalactic Federation used into a language that Nel could understand. Among the many astounding revelations made to Nel during her journeys was the fact that every world in the interplanetary alliance recognized and practiced marriages between people of the same gender. It was one thing to wistfully imagine such an idea in a society where it was unthinkable and prohibited by all social and religious customs…it was another thing altogether to know that it truly was possible, and in that understanding, the sting of knowing that it would never be allowed here was tenfold worse. Clair, understandably ignorant that civilization the galaxy wide had allowed such marriage for hundreds and hundreds of years, felt some frustration and disappointment that had faded quickly--but it was small wonder that Nel would take Rozaria’s mother’s speech so much harder, because she knew.
“It really troubles you that much, does it?” Clair asked sympathetically.
“Yes,” Nel answered. “I remember when we were children…you always really enjoyed pretending to be a bride, and you’d gush about exactly how it would be all the time. You’d get so excited…even as a teenager, you’d sometimes still imagine of what it would be like, what you’d wear, the decorations, the flowers…I just feel like…I don’t know. It was always something you loved to dream about, and because of me, you can’t have it. It’s like I’ve stolen it from you. I guess my guilt’s why it stays on my mind so much.”
This was true, if not the whole truth. Still, Nel couldn’t tell Clair, or anyone else, anything about her travels, and what she learned about the universe and its people during them. There was no reason to, and all it could do was cause discord.
Clair tightened their embrace, laying her head on Nel’s shoulder. “Oh Nel…you silly girl. It was never the wedding that I dreamed of. It really is just like the priestess said…it’s the love that makes it wonderful. Pretending and imagining was always fun…but the part that made it a beautiful dream was that it would mean loving, and being loved. That’s what I really wanted, and that’s what you give me, Nel. Stop feeling guilty.”
Nel tilted her head to rest on Clair’s for a moment, taking these words in slowly before eventually saying, “I love you, Clair. I’m so sorry for before.”
“I told you I forgive you. And I love you, too, Nel.”
They broke their embrace, and stood staring at one another for a moment. Then Clair grinned playfully and gave her other half a quick peck on the lips. “Although I can think of a way that you could make it up to me if you’re still feeling guilty…”
This time, it was Nel’s turn to read her companion’s thoughts (not that a total stranger couldn’t pick up Clair’s obvious meaning). She looked quickly around and realized that they’d actually stopped just a few steps away from her own room. She motioned to her door, Clair let out a giggle, and they quickly went inside.
Once the door was shut and they had blissful privacy, Nel locked her lips to Clair’s. She pressed awkwardly against Clair’s lips, a little too forcefully, clumsily trying to match her partner’s mood and movements, but never quite in synch with them.
Clair broke away and smiled. “Goodness, Nel, you really are a terrible kisser. Just awful,” she said with a playful titter.
“I know. Sorry,” Nel replied with a smile. No matter how hard she tried, she could never quite get the hang of it, always pushing too strongly or too softly, always taking it in the wrong direction at the wrong time, always a little too closed or a little too open.
“Mmm, but you’re my bad kisser, and I’d never want a better one,” Clair told her, for Nel’s ineptitude at this most basic act of affection had always amused and charmed her.
The next couple minutes were an active blur of seconds to Nel, a collage of kisses and caresses to and from Clair, accompanied by clothing being carelessly undone to clutter the carpet. Nel only really came back to some clarity once both halves of the Crimson Blade lacked clothes, as she backed her naked companion toward the covered bed.
This light lapse in thought concerned Nel little, though, if at all, for this really was no time for the mental, only the physical. She and Clair had not made love for so long now, and Nel had been lamenting the lack of her lover’s touch as truly as all her other qualities. It was all right to Nel, as she lowered her beloved lady to lie atop the bed’s quilt, to lose herself for a little while in lust born of love.
As Clair lay, Nel allowed the ashen-haired woman’s arms to raise and her hands to anchor themselves at her sides, caressing as before. There was an added tug to the caresses, an attached unspoken message asking that Clair’s companion join her. Nel accepted, and came down to also lie atop the mattress, at Clair’s side and wrapped in her arms.
Initiating another kiss, Clair moved in, inching herself toward Nel and increasing their proximity enough that their bodies lined up, intimately interacting through touch. Skin paradoxically soft and strong met identical flesh, legs hit legs, thighs met thighs, chests and nipples distended pushed together, all mimicking the mouths and lips which kissed, nipped, and licked one another. Inept as Nel might be, right now her skill was insignificant, for the intensity of their love and lust was high enough that it reconciled the kiss’s inequality.
Clair reached around her lover, reveling as her fingers brushed across her lover’s perfect frame at its firm strength, different from its soft appearance. She broke their kiss, and embraced her, pressing her palms, fingers, and wrists against Nel’s back, tender yet with force. Clair brought her right hand lower, to explore her lover’s lower back and rear, pressing, caressing, and even groping. Nel groaned in pleasured response to the pressure there, and Clair, encouraged, returned her right hand to its previous course of exploration, further down Nel’s lean frame, following her rear curves to where her legs parted. Nel murmured happily at this relatively minor sensation, and Clair started to rub her fingers against the flesh they traveled a little harder. She arrived at her target a moment later, reaching the bottom of her lover’s gender’s center. A groan rumbled in Nel as Clair slowly and luxuriously traced the outer rim of this core, then graduated to a throaty moan as Clair maneuvered two of her fingers to enter. Another moan reverberated through her as Clair moved further and deeper, then another as the fingers retreated a bit, and more followed as Nel’s warrior lover worked deeper again. These actions were repeated rhythmically over and over, and Clair observed with a sort of wonder and interest as Nel grew closer to a rewarding release, the increasing rate of her labored breath and body’s trembles serving to inform Clair. Toward the end, when Clair determined that her partner was ready, she readjusted her hand, never breaking her pace, and relegated her thumb to firmly stroking the firm little nub which brought her greatest pleasure. Nel was never loud in the throes of orgasm, nor did she jerk and squirm very hard (unsurprising, given her generally controlled nature), but there was no doubt for Clair as Nel’s grip on her arms grew stronger and her inner parts clenched hard on her stroking fingers. She worked her lover through her orgasm, then drew back when it was over, and allowed her a short time of rest.
Nel only took a minute or so before renewing their embrace and kiss. She knew that what Clair had done to her, and what she planned to do now, was nothing new, nor unique from other times they joined one another; yet it was never routine, for their connection, the knowledge of love shared, was enough to render each night, each experience as enjoyable as the last one, tinged with the spice of desire long kept dormant by necessity from both women leading incongruously busy existences. For Nel, it was Clair, and for Clair, it was Nel, that made these moments wonderful, not the kinds of actions they shared.
She broke her clumsy kiss then, as well as the embrace, to rise to her elbows and knees and move down the bed’s expanse. Even though Nel’s kisses left something to be desired, she was, oddly enough, really adept at orally expressing her affections elsewhere. She presently knelt above Clair’s legs, and reached a hand to feel them, then gently pressured them until she had edged Clair to lie evenly on her back. Nel then eased her head down to the Shield Legion leader’s legs’ cleft, taking a gentle breath there at her center.
Nel’s tongue left her lips then, lazily beginning to lick a slow circle along her lover’s labia, and a soft coo and pleased giggle leapt from Clair. Her lungs halted their lovely rising for just a split second as Nel called off her light oral tickling in favor of allowing her tongue to lovingly push past the lower lips of her lady and begin a more internal exploration. She gently stimulated the walls of this womanly cavern, the low rumbles and barely spoken calls of Clair guiding her oral dance, privately smiling as she listened to Clair’s lusty sounds steadily grow louder. She lowered her head slightly again, giving her a longer reach within, but more importantly, allowing her small nose to brush lightly along her lover’s clitoris, letting a new level of pleasure to overtake Clair. Nel’s lover wriggled a little at the added bliss, and Nel did not let up at all, only increasing the rate that her tongue swirled and lapped, and nose carefully rubbed, until finally Clair called Nel’s name and let go.
A few minutes later saw them quietly lying in one another’s arms in an amiable silence. But even small moments of forever such as these had to pass, and Clair finally spoke after kissing Nel’s forehead. “I’d love to continue…”
“…but we’ve already been away from the queen’s side for too long,” Nel finished her sentence for her.
Clair nodded and sighed. “We can’t miss the whole reception.”
They slowly rose to gather their garments, tidy up, and rejoin the others. As this process was started, Nel told her, “I’m…still really sorry for before, Clair.”
“I told you already, Nel, I forgive you,” Clair replied.
“I love you, Clair.”
“And I love you.”
***
They rejoined the reception party, if not stronger in their love than before, then at least no weaker for their fight. The reception was close to finished, but Nel still had the time to warmly congratulate her friend Rozaria personally, as well as throw a somewhat less cordial look to her new husband that made quite certain that Arzei, grand king of Airyglyph, would suffer dire consequences were he to treat his wife badly.
Incidentally, Clair told her father of her relationship with Nel that week, perhaps feeling too guilty from Nel’s comment that day (despite knowing that she had not meant it) to put if off any longer. He took the news well, knowing that Nel was of fine character and good breeding, congratulated them, and then immediately asked Clair when she and Nel were planning to adopt a son or daughter, which Clair of course told him they had not been and did not plan to soon start considering. Apparently, Adray’s interest in his daughter’s getting married had been motivated solely by the interest in having an heir to pass his legacy on to, so his constantly pestering his daughter did not cease with her announcement, only change from marriage to adoption. But it could have been worse, and now she did not have to feel guilty at keeping a secret.
As for Nel, though the knowledge that millions of others in her galaxy could have a marriage that she could not still weighed on her mind, Clair’s reassuring words had made this envy inconsequential. She loved Clair, Clair loved her, and that was all that was truly significant.
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