Tallah

Mertle had never stayed anywhere quite as regal as the Meadow. Her own little cot back at home could fit in Sil’s bedroom three times over and there would still be room for her worktable. It was all a bit too much.

“What are they doing out there?” she asked, as another thud and crash could be heard from the common room.

“If I know Tallah, she’s either experimenting on Vergil or teaching him something. Either way, my latest batch of potions is at their disposal.”

“She was doing something to him earlier, but I didn’t think she’d try to kill him.”

“He’ll live. Don’t worry about them.”

Sil had her head nestled in the crook of Mertle’s shoulder and her arms wrapped around her chest. Their legs were intertwined underneath the heavy quilt.

“That feels good,” Mertle said as Sil tightened her embrace and kissed her neck softly.

“It should,” the healer replied, sleepily, cuddling closer.

They had used every pillow available in the apartment. Sil had even taken Tallah’s, since the sorceress never used them. They had constructed a nest of comfort and Mertle lay in its centre, idly caressing her lover’s back. These moments came all too rarely and far too distant from one another, so she was set on enjoying the time they had together. For as long as Winter could last, it would still be too short.

“You know what I’ve never understood?” Sil asked, in that dream like state that only late afternoon allowed for.

Clear winter’s light had drizzled away into before-dark gloom. Candlelight caught in Sil’s golden mane. Mertle sieved it through her fingers like the finest sand.

“What?” she asked.

“What colour is your skin?” Sil asked and kissed her neck. “It’s not red. And it’s not brown. What do I call this in-between? I don’t want to think of it as rust.”

Mertle grinned as fire spread through her veins from each of Sil’s caresses.

“It’s the colour of dark honey,” she replied. “I have skin the colour of dark honey and blood red hair. That’s how you should always think of me, like a poem.”

“I’d expect that to offend.”

“Polite elend get offended by too many things,” Mertle replied with a mischievous smile. “I’m not a polite elendine. And that’s how I want you to think of me. Only you. Nothing of me is to be shared.”

She shifted around and slid down on the pillow until her face was level with Sil’s. They kissed, softly, almost timidly, and her hands slipped underneath the quill.

A loud thud resounded through the wall and prompted wisps of dust to dislodge from cracks in the walls.

“Is she killing Vergil? Do you need to go out there?” Mertle asked with just a slight pout at the interruption.

Sil didn’t respond and, instead, kissed her again, harder, much longer. She always ended up taking control if Mertle let her. She bit the healer’s lower lip and pushed her away with her forehead. A strand of golden hair caught in her horn.

“I want to talk a bit,” the elendine whispered, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“You say that, but your hands are giving me a completely different message,” Sil said with a sigh of pleasure.

“Well, yes, they’ve got minds of their own. See? I can’t tell them what to do. They just do things and I’m along for the ride. Pay attention to me, not to them.”

Sil’s legs tensed around her own.

“Mmm, right.”

Mertle pressed her forehead against her lover’s shoulder, hiding away her awkwardness.

“Can’t you stay? After Winter passes? I miss you when you’re gone. And then I need to coax you to me when you come back. Just… stay? This time?”

“I miss you too when we’re gone. And you know I can’t. When the roads clear and the snow melts, we need to head into Solstice. Without the Gates, it’s a long trip.”

She could feel Sil’s strong heartbeat thundering against her forehead. Whatever was in Solstice, in Tallah’s home town, it was important. She understood that and was resigned to it but still had to ask her question.

“Why?”

There was a moment of hesitation, a lie built up. Sil never spoke of Tallah’s ends, of her great, dark mission, but Mertle knew that that’s what kept her going away. Solstice held the key for it was where they always went after their hunts.

They never spoke of it, not really. Always cryptic, never honest.

“So we can keep on living. So I can keep coming back to you.”

That made her smile. It was a silly lie coming from a silly place of worry. Mertle could go with them if allowed and she wouldn’t be a burden on whatever the mission was. Tummy would handle the shop without her just fine.

“I’m not getting younger, you know,” she said, almost too quiet.

“None of us are getting any younger. I’ll stay longer next time. I promise.”

Mertle raised her head and met Sil’s eyes.

“Liar,” she whispered, and kissed her again.