Perhaps it should have insulted her, it should have brought back the pain and loss that so often accompanied thoughts of her wings.
But somehow, when he said it just such a way, when they were joined in the most intimate of ways, it was a compliment. That she was not lacking in some fundamental regard, unable to please him due to her abnormality. That he found her beautiful, found her appealing, even if she did not look as another of his kind might.
He stirred, but only briefly, before he settled again. Could he feel her watching him, even now? There were so few times during the Journey when she had awoken first, and even now her fingers itched to reach out, to touch. Would he like that? If he was drawn from the sweetness of sleep by the gentle touches of his wife, urging him to be with her? Much of her soreness had been eased by her bath, and if she was willing to admit it, she would like to be with him again.
Would that urge ever desist? Fading with time and familiarity? She did not know, but the thought made her sad.
Their time was short, and she would take hold of whatever happy domesticity she could.
She almost raised her hand to touch, to stir, but glanced at the kitchen instead. Would he rather breakfast first? To wake to the sounds of tea hitting a readied cup, to seduce him slowly as he had done for her only the day before.
Had it really been so recent? It felt far longer.
Smiling to herself, Penryn snuck from the bed. She would not tarry in the little washroom, and if he woke then he could find her easily enough with only a turn of his head. But she felt more ready for her seduction with all her morning needs attended to, and she was pleased that he was still sleeping when she crept from the room once more.
The kettle she filled from the tap in the washroom while the fire grew and heated. She placed it on its hook, content to wait, before turning to thoughts of food. The remains of the stew did not appeal to her, but hunks of bread warmed by the fire and thick cuts of cheese and slices of fresh fruit were welcome enough, and she plated all of it, her attention drifting to the bed to see how her husband fared.
Only he was not sleeping any longer, his eyes open and watchful as he remained reclined on the bed.
“I do not seem able to keep you in my bed,” he complained, although there was nothing truly reproachful in his tone. “What are you doing, Pen?”
She rubbed her hands down the side of her shift, strangely discouraged that she had not been quite able to finish what she had intended. “Planning your seduction,” she answered crisply. “But you woke too soon.”
His eyebrows rose, and there was a small smile about his lips, and she warmed to know it had been put there because of her. “My apologies,” he was gracious enough to answer back with, trying to soothe the offence that was not truly there. “Would my seduction preclude using the washroom? I should hate to be uncooperative to the process.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she shook her head, watching him retreat and close the door behind him.
She checked the kettle and found steam coming from the spout, and with careful use of a cloth to retrieve it, had two mugs prepared by the time he returned, their breakfast awaiting their indulgence at the table.
Or should it be the bed? Where, if she grew no longer content with merely holding his hand, and she felt the need to push all the closer...
And if she reclined just so, and opened her arms in welcome, and he followed...
But then there would be plates and mugs of partially filled tea spilling on the bedclothes. Whereas now, if she felt that same urge, there was a table to support the cutlery and dishes while she made use of her husband’s lap, first to finish off the last of her breakfast, then the final sips of tea, and then the final craving that had yet to be sated...
She had not heard his approach so she startled when strong arms came around her from behind, followed by a warm kiss to the soft flesh of her neck, peeking out between long hair and the opening of her shift.
“What are you thinking of, wife?” Grimult asked, his voice low as his grip on her tightened. How could just a word from him send such flares of desire through her? She shivered, wondering if everything would keep well enough if she was to forget it all and simply forego the slow seduction she had planned and instead succumb to the quick and heady pull that he seemed so capable of drawing from her.
“You,” she answered back, not bothering to attempt to turn about. “Us,” she clarified, uncaring that she blushed and he would know as soon as he saw it that she spoke of their loving, both future and present.
Things would change when they left this place. When she found that his wing had healed and he was strong and ready for what was next required of them.
But for now, for these few, precious days as they learned what it was to be husband and wife...
They could have this.
Simple meals and tender couplings, and all that accompanied the in between.
And she was so very glad.
Nine
“We will not be back here,” Penryn commented mournfully. It was not the first time she had mentioned it, but it was the first time it was real. They were leaving, and that was that. She swallowed, brushing her hand along the bed that had been theirs, the fire that had been the source of
