Although he couldn’t have put his finger on why, Cremsden had been feeling better all day despite the work of trying to shepherd a bunch of non-Healers through not doing anything disastrous. Calmer at least, without the feeling that he was waiting for something terrible to drop down on his head. How long had it been since he’d been working without that feeling? Hard to remember, but it was like a weight lifted even if it was replaced with a certain amount of sleepiness. That was working outside for you though -- exhaustion was to be expected if you weren’t used to it.
He collected his stew, offering a quick thanks to the young man who seemed to have taken over feeding everyone, and then looked for Margana. He was yawning as he sat down beside her, but smiling at least. “How’s your day been?”
“Not as good as yours, obviously,” Margana answered, spooning up another bite of her bowl of stew. “I can’t do much yet, so they’ve had me cataloging all the finds.” She lifted her finger in the air and twirled it. “Whoopeee,” she said unenthusiastically.
“However, the stew is pretty tasty,” she added. “Not sure what they put in it, but it really gives it some flavor.”
Cremsden laughed, and patted her leg. “You might not want to hear it, but someone who catalogues accurately is a life-saver out here,” he assured her, tucking into his own bowl. “Too many things that can cause trouble, and too easy for a container or two to go walkabout if it’s not written down. Notes keep people honest.” He chewed, and took another mouthful thoughtfully. “Got a kind of sweetness to it?” he said after a moment.
“Yeah,” she said. “And I know I’m good at the cataloging--R’tal doesn’t have me working for him for nothing. But it’s not as much fun as going through the jungle, seeing the sights…”
“Getting bitten by exciting new bugs, getting to stink of numbweed as much of the rest of us…” He was teasing her, which meant he had to be in a good mood. Teasing her and glancing at her sideways with that half-shy considering look he sometimes got.
“Hmm. Didn’t think about that.” She blushed at Cremsden’s look--he hadn’t looked at her like that in a long time. Not that either of them had lost interest, it had just been a busy time. Too much crap happening. But out here, it was like the beginning. She lowered her lashes and smiled at him.
Cremsden grinned back foolishly, and now he was looking flushed too. “I mean to say I-- uh-- what was I saying again?” he said, losing his thread entirely. Something about numbweed he was sure. It didn’t matter. “You look really pretty tonight.”
Considering Margana was wearing the same old clothes she put on this morning, that was saying something. But, well…
“You’re not looking half bad, either,” she said, leaning in to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. It was starting to get dark and a little chilly, and his body felt nice and warm next to hers.
“Except for smelling of numbweed. Do I smell of numbweed?” Cremsden demanded. His arm crept around her waist, hand sneaking onto her thigh. “Faranth, I think I needed to get out the Weyr.”
She leaned over and sniffed his neck, her nose tickling it. “No, you don’t smell of numbweed,” she said. “You just smell good.” Margana couldn’t help herself, she flicked her tongue over his neck, tasting the salty sweat.
“I think we need to get out of here too,” she whispered.
Cremsden shivered, pulling her closer. “We shouldn’t,” he mumbled, kissing her lightly, hand creeping further up her thigh. “There are.. Apprentices.. and..” He kissed her again, forgetting how he’d been intending to finish that.
“They’ll be too tired to look for you,” she murmured as she kissed him back. “Maybe you can consider this an educational experience.”
“Yes but I… I… feck,” Cremsden caught his breath and surrendered, hands moving to unbutton Margana’s top as though of their own accord. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“Yes, but I love hearing it,” Margana answered, her own hands unbuttoning his. “I love you so much; I can’t get enough of being with you.” So what if they were out in the open. In her peripheral vision, Margana swore that she saw others doing the same thing, but there was no way they could be as in love with each other as she was with Cremsden.
The sheer sensation of being with him made her forget what she barely registered.
“I love you, I love you, shards, I love you so fecking much I have nightmares where you leave.” He was half-laughing as he said it, though it wasn’t really funny if you actually listened. His skin was warm under her hands, flushed as though with fever, and he slipped her top off entirely forgetting to worry about witnesses. “You should marry me.”
This wasn’t a night of someone coming home so drunk that they didn’t know what they were doing. This was a night of real emotions (or so she thought), so she didn’t think twice about the question.
“OK. I’ll marry you!” she said, pressing up against him and kissing him ardently. The feel of her bare skin against his was almost more than she could stand. “We need to seal our agreement,” she said, her own skin feeling warm and flushed.
“You mean it?” He drew back for a moment to look at her, pupils dilated in the light of the glows. Only a moment because a moment was all he could stand without touching her. “Faranth, you’re amazing.”
“And that’s why I’m marrying you,” Margana said. “You recognize me for what I am.” She kissed him again. “Of course I mean it. I love you, we should be together.”
“You are the most fecking incredible woman I’ve ever met.” Some part of Cremsden’s brain registered that something was wrong, not so much because he wouldn’t usually think like this but because there was no sharding way he’d ever have the courage to spit the words out. He ignored it. Sometimes it was good to feel like you could be as brave as another person entirely. His hands were as bold as his words, with none of the hesitance that sometimes held him back. “I could just stand around all sharding day staring at you except nothing would ever fecking get done.”
Margana gave a low-throated chuckle, her hands just as busy as his. “Neither of us would,” she said, “because we wouldn’t leave our weyr.” As far as she was concerned, the night was perfect. She didn’t know what was happening, but whatever it was, she liked it. “I think I would like to stay like this forever.”
“Okay. The rest of them can go home. We’ll stay here.” Cremsden agreed easily. Really, mention of ‘the rest of them’ maybe should have reminded him just how public they were but right now that seemed unimportant.
Albeit she couldn’t know what he was thinking, Margana was of the same mindset. She was also of the mindset that Cremsden needed to do less talking and more, oooooh, whatever it was he was doing now.
Maybe in the morning she’d be embarrassed, but she doubted it. Briefly she wondered if a goldflight was happening; her need was so intense that if she didn’t know better, she’d think that she was in the midst of a flight.
Instead, she chose to lose herself in the sheer sensation of mind-blowing, overpowering sex.
...fade to black