The memory of her screaming out her climax hit not just his mind but his whole being. “When we’ve rested, you may need to make it clear again. I’m very slow to catch on in certain matters.”
“I like to think I’m a tolerably patient instructor. And gods know we have time, in all likelihood.”
“There’s that.” Olvir, picking up the items of their clothing that weren’t made of leather, felt a cold trace of guilt intrude on his satisfaction. “Though I’d certainly be happier if the storm ends quickly, and I hope we have the worst of it here.”
“Of course. I assumed that went without saying.”
“It should. But—” Olvir shrugged and dumped the clothing into the cold pool. “I thought it would do me good to say it, I suppose.”
Vivian slipped an arm around his waist, her touch comforting now rather than seductive. “It probably did me good too.”
They collected armor and Vivian’s trousers, picked up their weapons from outside the door, and, naked, walked back to the sleeping chamber. The air was cooler than the water had been, but after the pool and their activity, it was a refreshing change.
“I don’t believe,” Vivian said, stretching out beside him in the combination of bedding that had been both clean and dry, “that I’ve ever fully appreciated lying down before.”
“Mm-hmm. One of the great unsung pleasures of life.” Olvir found a secure place on her waist for his hand. Her head tucked neatly beside his, and her breath was pleasant against his neck. “Of course, until now, I’d only done it once with you.”
“Flatterer.”
“Sworn to truth.”
“A convenient quality in a lover. Mostly.” Vivian pulled a blanket up to cover them, yawned, and closed her eyes.
Sleep descended quickly: the walk from the bathing chamber had been a very small interruption to set against not only warmth and satiation but the previous days of fear and fighting and simple exertion. Olvir held it off for a few minutes, though, while he whispered prayers to Tinival.
The first part was as familiar to him as his own name, the usual litany for knights in the field.Guide my arm, clear my eyes, and give me courage,he finished, hearing the faint harmony in his soul. Then he went on.
Thank you for this refuge, Lord. Thank you for Vivian. And—There were some in the temples who believed it a sacrilege to ask the gods for favors. A just cause would already have the Four’s attention. No mortal could know better than they did. There’d been times when Olvir could see their point, but right then, the words seemed important—not to tell Tinival what was important but to let Him know that Olvir appreciated it.I pray that we’ve gotten the worst of this storm, that the people we left behind are all right. They’re valiant soldiers. Some of them are good friends. All of them deserve better than what we went through outside.
The world was what it was. Many people suffered in ways that they didn’t deserve. Olvir had seen plenty of that in only the last few months and more in the years he’d been a knight, much as he’d tried to carry out his duty to avert it. He knewdeservewas a treacherous word and that hope rarely prevented disaster.
He hoped nonetheless.
The music that was his bond with Tinival remained as it always had, giving no answer but its presence. Olvir received no guarantees, no prophecies of victory or visions of his friends’ safety. He knew that his god was in his soul, and Vivian was next to him, and he himself was whole and strong, capable of taking up his task again when the storm permitted.
Olvir surrendered to sleep.
* * *
Time meant nothing under the mountain, so Vivian had no idea how long it was before she woke up. When she did, her limbs felt lighter than they had at any point since she’d left the camp—maybe before that, since she hadn’t precisely been in the habit of rising late there. Using her well-being as evidence, she estimated that she and Olvir had been asleep for at least ten hours, maybe twelve.
A silence in her mind meant that Ulamir hadn’t returned. That was all right: he’d said he might be gone for two days. Besides, very little could hurt the sword-spirits themselves.
She and Olvir had shifted during the night so that he was curled around her from behind, one arm draped loosely across her chest. Each breath Vivian took shifted his hand back and forth minutely against her stomach, a sensation that became increasingly noticeable as sleep faded.
It had been quite a while, too, since she’d woken up naked at all, let alone with another person in her bed. Vivian hadn’t realized that she’d missed it—or maybe she hadn’t missed it until that moment. Partners as pleasant as Olvir had been few and far between.
As a matter of fact, she couldn’t remember any partner she’d had that was as generally pleasant as Olvir had been, in bed and out.
Vivian retreated quickly from that line of logic. Even her fatalism was finite.
It was better to focus on the present, to be aware of little but the hair on Olvir’s chest brushing softly against her back, the low, steady sound of his breathing, and the solid weight of his arm across her side. The places where they touched began to tingle, a feeling that spread through her body as her drowsiness started giving ground to arousal.
When she felt Olvir’s cock swelling against her, arousal took a solid lead.
His breathing suggested that he was still asleep. When Vivian turned her head, she saw that his eyes were closed and his face relaxed, unaware. She bit her lip.
It would be unkind to wake him and unethical to gratify herself with the man while he was in no state to agree to it, whatever his body was doing. The situation called for patience. Vivian was good at patience, most of the time.
