Recent content by Galen

It was a miracle that Galen did not melt into a puddle on the floor, such was the spell cast by her lips and hands. His eyes went wide and he tried to make his voice a little less breathless, which was quite difficult with his heart thudding like a stallion inside his chest. "We - I am quite...

Galen's smirk grew quite absurd as she shut the curtain behind them. His heart thudded in his chest and he let out a breathless chuckle as the pins slid free, then the jacket, then the shirt of course. Strange how they'd been a struggle to put on but came off so quickly. Her tracing fingers...

Moments later, Galen came out and stood on a stool. "I feel ridiculous," Galen complained as he stood on the stool, with a dozen needles pinning back the folds of a blue jacket and trousers with gold embroidery. He'd never worn so much, what was this... silk? Satin? He wasn't even sure. It was...

AN INDETERMINATE AMOUNT OF TIME LATER… Galen stood in front of the haberdasher street. Well, it was both haberdashers and cobblers and tailors, but for some reason they called this street Haberdasher and the one over Cobbler. He stood outside one of the shops, staring at his distorted...

The mage ran a hand through his hair, chuckling at her response. He had not expected a noble woman to be so… innocence. It was disarming. He should probably just leave it at that, with her happy and content. But Galen had always found a way to press his luck. Double or nothing the odds...

He drifted closer to her lips, stopping only a heartbeat away from her, staring into those captivating pools of clearest blue. “It’s… like…” The rasp drug from his throat, low and husky with want. The fingers on her hip bone slipped beneath lace and followed that trailing groove in her skin...

“Disappoint me?” Galen blinked owlishly at her, confused and breathless. The folds of her dress bunched around his arm as his hand rested on her hip, fingers toying with a lace of fabric there that wasn’t part of the dress. No, not at all. He felt foolish for a moment, but then he always felt...

The deepening kiss drove him crazy. Yes, that’s right, Galen thing to himself, you’re going to go insane. No, you already ARE insane. Kissing a noble lady. Trying to… to… All other thoughts fled away, her fingers tugging at his collar, her lips all over his. He grinned against her kiss, then...

“I-“ Unprepared for her sudden forwardness, his tongue knotted up for a moment. He went very still, gazing up into those sky blue eyes as she sat atop his lap. He could feel the warmth of her through that slip of moonlight fabric, her legs over his knee, body pressed so close against him. Then...

Galen busily picked his jaw up off the ground. Three times, as it happened. “Oh gods,” he whispered at the sight of the first dress. The deepest blues, the silvery threading, the collarbones. Galen swallowed, adjusting his hat on his head. “Can’t speak for any Lords, but I’d give you a right...

Had he not accomplished enough in life if but to make her laugh? He thought so. Yes. If he died and the last notes he heard were of her laughter, he thought he might die happy. How strange, when he’d been convinced but a month ago that he’d be dead floating in the river by year’s end, with no...

He blinked owlishly down at her as she stood so close. “The… dance.” Yes, of course. The dance. The mage from the gutter knew all about dances. Grown up around loads of dances. Every weekend after a pint at the tavern. Galen had never been to a dance in his life. Oh, he heard all about...

Galen scratched the back of his head as the light flickered out in her palm. He’d been so sure this would work. Ah well, can’t win ‘em all. “Maybe, or maybe you just need to keep practicing. Like my old master used to say, practice makes perfect.” Except of course that Telemachus never said...

The mage held her hand as she reached the other out beyond the safety of the willow boughs. Galen watched intently. The light of the sun must infuse her skin somehow. Or maybe it was like with plants, who gained life from sunlight. The problem was that Ciana did not know how to control all of...

The wind rustled the weeping boughs of the willow which curtained them in shade as they stood beneath it, close to the old tree's big trunk. Galen watched the dancing branches and the sparkling blue of the pond in the citrine sunlight beyond and the green of the grass. Had he ever enjoyed simply...