The Vampire & Her Witch

For several moments, Ashlynn and Nyrielle remained motionless, basking in the feeling of holding and being held as their hearts began to still. There was still hurt, guilt and even a trace of fear between them, but the storm had passed, leaving them both shaken but still standing strong and still clinging to each other for strength.

”I’m a mess,” Ashlynn said after a few minutes had passed. Slowly, she pulled back from Nyrielle and truly looked at her lover, realizing that, beyond her puffy, tearstained eyes, Nyrielle’s hair was in just as much disarray as hers was. In fact, she looked more disheveled at this moment, with her dark silk robe slipping off one shoulder and her sash only half tied than Ashlynn had ever seen her.

”You’re a mess too,” Ashlynn added with a faint smile as she glanced around the room. Ashlynn’s armor and the practice sword she’d fetched lay strewn across the floor, dumped in a sodden, muddy pile along with the dress she’d worn under her armor. Elsewhere in the room, she spotted a pale night dress stained with dried mud and discarded near the door leading to Nyrielle’s lavish bath.

”There wasn’t much time last night,” Nyrielle admitted, looking slightly apologetic. ”You were shivering and cold when I found you and flying through the storm didn’t help. I barely had time to wash the mud from your skin and hair before the sun pressed down on me. I, I can’t keep you warm while we sleep,” she said sheepishly. ”So if not for the bath, I was afraid...”

”It’s fine,” Ashlynn said, reaching out to place a finger on Nyrielle’s lips, unconsciously mirroring what Nyrielle had done for her in her moments of distress the night before. ”Come,” she said, sliding off the bed and pulling on Nyrielle’s hands.

”Let me thank you for rescuing me last night,” Ashlynn said, flashing the vampire a fragile smile. ”I’ll wash and brush your hair. And you can start making it up to me by washing and brushing mine.”

”You don’t need to force things,” Nyrielle said, hesitating at the entrance to her marble tiled bathing chamber. The fire in the room’s hearth had burned down to little more than embers, and the water wasn’t hot enough to fill the room with steam, but the stones of the room still held much of the warmth of the night before and the temptation to sink into the warm waters with Ashlynn was difficult to resist.

Still, Nyrielle hesitated, unwilling to take advantage of her lover when she was this vulnerable.

”Nyri, I’m afraid,” Ashlynn said, pulling Nyrille closer and wrapping her arms around her lover’s lithe body. Nyrielle hadn’t fed recently and her skin was icy cold to the touch but that only made Ashlynn grip her tighter, sharing the warmth of her body with the woman who meant more to her than anything... including her vengeance.

”I’m afraid that if we let this moment become a wedge between us, the cracks will only grow,” Ashlynn said. ”I’m afraid that if you keep your distance from me, if we can’t even do normal things, then we’ll turn into strangers before we know it. So, right now, I mean it. I need you to make up for what you did wrong by staying close to me instead of pulling away.”

”When did my darling become so wise?” Nyrielle said, relenting and following Ashlynn into the marble bathing chamber. Their feet made faint slapping sounds as they walked across the marble tiles, each one turning to different tasks to warm the room and the bath.

For a truly luxurious bath, fires would be lit in a room on the floor above and hot water would pour into the bath, constantly warming water of the bath until it was hot enough to turn their skin pink. But without instructions to do so, the servants of the castle rarely lit the fires on the off chance that Nyrille would desire a bath when she woke.

Instead, Ashlynn piled fresh wood on the hearth, stoking the flames with a faint flow of wind like a blacksmith working the bellows. Beneath the flames, several smooth, iron balls soaked up the heat as Ashlynn fetched tongs to transfer them into the tepid waters of the bath.

While Ashlynn tended the fire, Nyrielle collected a tray of soaps and fragrant oils. Working with the same precision that Ashlynn used when concocting potions, Nyrielle expertly blended fragrances before blending them with the soaps and whipping a soft, airy foam that smelled of primroses and jasmine.

”Nyri,” Ashlynn called from beside the hearth while she waited for the iron balls to soak up more heat. ”You need to feed.”

”Not from you,” Nyrielle said, shaking her head as she set the tray of soaps down next to the bath and fetched a set of towels to hang next to the hearth. ”I can feed later tonight. My hunger isn’t out of control. And if I fed from you...”

”I know,” Ashlynn said softly. ”I, I’m not ready to let you feed from me directly right now. I’m sorry, I know I said that I wanted to keep doing normal things but...”

”But my bite will cloud your mind,” Nyrielle finished with a sad but understanding look. ”I know. You don’t need to force yourself.”

”Yes, I do,” Ashlynn said, padding across the marble floor to leave the bathchamber and returning a moment later with a small goblet and a simple knife. ”I know it won’t completely slake your thirst,” Ashlynn said. ”But, I want to care for you. I want to nourish you, even if I can’t yield to your bite tonight. Is it, is it alright this way?”

”It’s fine,” Nyrielle said, wrapping her fingers around Ashlynn’s on the goblet. ”But you exhausted yourself last night and you’ll need your strength to train with Thane tonight. Are you certain? You don’t need to do this for me.”

”I don’t need to,” Ashlynn agreed. ”But I want to,” she added, pressing the goblet into Nyrielle’s hands before using the blade of the knife to open a long, red wound in her palm. Making a fist above the goblet, she squeezed her hand tightly, rhythmically squeezing and releasing to stimulate the flow of blood, spilling enough crimson liquid into the goblet to cover the bottom of the vessel and filling until it would cover the first knuckle of her smallest finger.

”I love you, Nyri,” Ashlynn said as she ran a finger around the rim of the goblet, leaving behind the faintest crimson stain where her lover would drink. ”No matter what, that won’t change. So drink, and then join me in the bath...”