Private Tales Forastero

[Kishou]

“It is late,” Kishou said and rose, still holding her hand. “Careful, now.” He guided her back to their room, where in their absence their used dishes had been collected and a single mattress and blanket had been laid on the floor. Kishou frowned.

However, another thought occurred. While the inn didn’t have a hot spring, it was unheard of for an inn to not have a bath of some sort.

“Would you like to see about bathing before we retire for the night?” He would have liked to smell like something other than days of travel in the sun.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Amore was lament to admit that she hated the way she felt in her robes which had, over the last several days of traveling in the unrelenting heat, become nigh saturated by sweat. She could smell herself and she was certain that she could smell him. Though it was something she'd become accustomed to and had never once intended to complain about, the Priestess wasn't incapable of commenting mentally that they had become quite the odoriferous pair.

"I..." her words caught, but she forced a response with a nod, "yes, that would be more than agreeable."

"Do you ... think we might get our garments washed as well?" she would hate to put the soiled robes back on afterwards.

 

[Kishou]

"I don't see why not," he mused aloud, "I am sure there are kimonos or yukatas we could wear in the meantime."

At least bathing was something they could wholly agree on. It felt as if layers of dirt and sweat had caked his skin completely.

"I will go ask. Excuse me."

Kishou left, and at his request, a room with two tubs was quickly prepared. A multi-paneled divider was set between the tubs for some form of privacy. It was something he'd asked for out of consideration for Amore. She, of course, could not see him, but he could see her just fine.

Kishou returned with the innkeeper, who showed guided the two to the candle-lit room. It smelled of flowers, though lavender was at the forefront. He guided the Priestess to her side and cleared his throat.

"Here is the tub... and clothes are set aside for when you are finished. I will be here, but there is a screen between us. So..." Not quite sure what to say, he cleared his throat again and moved on the other side of the screen where he began to undress.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Amore patiently allowed Kishou to show her the layout of the bathing area, leaning as he guided her left hand first to the lip of the tub, and next to a pile of folded clothing on a bench nearby. She stood quietly, then, as he made his somewhat awkward departure of her side. Still dwelling quite thickly in the remnants of sake on the mind, the Priestess couldn't quite drum up the efforts of feeling shy or demured about the arrangement.

In the church all the acolytes were raised together, boys and girls. In their youth they shared the same communal bathhouse, and while within the privacy of the church grounds nudity had not been seen as something taboo. It wasn't until she was a woman grown that the separation had been instituted - though more as a form of respect and privacy for a fully realized Priestess than anything else.

Her attendants had not all been female, and most all of them had seen her naked body throughout their daily routines for dressing or washing. She felt no sense of embarrassment at the notion of being naked in front of others, especially now that she could not see them, but something about the idea of Kishou being naked just on the other side of the screen brought color to her cheeks.

Easily enough undressed, Amore set her robes on an empty space on the bench by the fresh clothing, and carefully found her way to the lip of her tub. The water was hot, but not so terribly that it burned. It felt good given the cooler air of the evening hours. She quietly slipped in and sighed deeply at the relief.

The Priestess began humming a somber tune.

 

[Kishou]

Fwiiip. Kishou undid the sash at his waist and let his kimono fall around his ankles. Not caring to neatly pile his clothes, he immediately entered the tub. While he considered her when asking for the bath to be prepared, he hadn't quite realized that she would actually be naked. Next to him. A mere few steps away. Her relieved sigh put that image of her into his mind.

His ears and cheeks warmed, but it was from the water. The water was warm.

"I recognize that," he leaned back and let his head rest against the lip of the tub. Only his head was out of the water now. "I remember passing your room in Elbion and hearing that. Is that song special to you?"

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Amore gently scrubbed at her arms with a washrag as she hummed, eyes closed. It was a reflexive sort of thing, a remnant left from her life spent with eyesight. Closing ones eyes to the world around them so as to more easily focus on the here, now, the internal. She needn't close them anymore, but it somehow still had the same effect.

"It was a song my Matron hummed to us as children in the church. We call it Mercedes' Lullaby. There were never any words, just the comfort of her voice. She passed from illness five years ago."

 

[Kishou]

"It's pleasant."

He hadn't much else to say and carefully scrubbed himself clean of days worth of filth. Only the sounds of sloshing water and Amore's humming filled the room. After thoroughly washing, Kishou sat back again, enjoying the last bit of warmth that the bath had to offer.

"You would love the hot springs. Especially in the mountains. We are raised believing that baths wash away the soul's impurities. And, well, it certainly felt that way. Warmed you to the bones." He smiled and turned his head to look at the screen that separated them. "Many temples were built around hot springs based on this belief."

Abstaining from women and alcohol- he couldn't agree with that, but he could with hot springs. The monks had it right with that.

Kishou wordlessly rose from the bath and stepped out to dry himself off.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

While she listened she scrubbed, and when the scrubbing was done she worked at the frayed and knotted braided mess of her hair. It would take a proper comb to get it all free of tangles, and so she made due with her fingers and the warm water to separate the coiled strands and smooth away the flyaways.

Amore wanted to remark that where hotsprings had cleansed the soul for his people, fire did the same for her own. She kept that to herself, however.

Submerging completely for several long moments, when she surfaced again Kishou had already exited his bath. Wiping water from her face and slicking it from the crown of her skull, Amore followed suit and carefully climbed out, moving to stand with her back to the divider as she took up a towel and wrapped it around herself.

Some silence followed as she dried, then leaned to blindly feel for the pile of clothing. Pulling it loose, her fingers smoothed across hems and seams, but could not make heads nor tails of it. Her own robes had been specially sewn with stitched markers in the fabric so that she could recognize the neckline and the inside versus the outside.

"Kishou," a moment as she thought how to pose the request, "I need your assistance. I cannot make heads or tales of this fabric..."

 

[Kishou]

The threads given by the inn were loose and light. Perfectly comfortable to wear and sleep in. When Amore called for his aid, Kishou was almost completely dressed in the yukata.

"You just-" he stood just around the other side of the divider, "-arms through holes. Tie it. Uhm.."

He could do it. Even if he were blind, he could do it. Could not explain it, though. Never had to.

"I am coming around."

Kishou didn't know what to expect, but he was equal parts relieved and disappointed to see her standing there covered by the towel. Their yukatas matched in color, a light grey, and were single pieces of fabric. He took hers and held it up and open for her by the collar.

"Towel off. Loop your arms through," he shyly looked away, "I will tie it for you."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"It goes on like a robe, I assume," hesitated, but only for the needed clarification. If she simply stuck her arms in as she stood now, this would not work the way it needed to. The towel was released from around her and set aside before she lifted both hands to feel for the fabric of the yukata and the seams of the arm holes. Left arm went into right opening and she turned on the spot, reaching back to feed right arm through the other.

"My clothing has stitched marks on the inside at the collar that I can feel with my fingertips," she explained as she shrugged into what felt like an oversized nightrobe. Her fingers found the line of the collar and pulled it straight, crossing one side over the other to cover herself up again and allow Kishou to tie everything in place.

It was an odd sensation to have his hands at her waist and sides again. The flutter of her heart was near no match for that of her stomach. Felt like back at the gala, dancing with him, or any time he'd placed a hand at her side or back to guide her along wherever their path lead.

She didn't realize she was holding her breath, nor that her cheeks had pinked.

 

[Kishou]

"Like a robe," he echoed with a small smile. As she looped one arm through, then the next, he let the yukata go and let her fold it closed.

"That is smart. All of your clothes?"

He placed his hands on her waist to measure the sash before wrapping it once, twice over. Her skin that he could see was free of any dirt or grime from their travels. The smell of the bath clung to her skin and wet hair. It wasn't the closest they'd ever been to each other, nor was it even uncommon. Despite a racing heart, his hands remained steady as he stepped around her and tied the ends of the sash into a bow.

Kishou gave the Priestess a once-over and smiled. A hand lingered over her waist, just where he tied the bow.

"It is a simple garment, but it truly becomes you."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"Yes," she replied, "there are times that I cannot count on the help of my Aides ...and," she paused, as if what she were about to say were some form of blasphemy, "I do prefer my independence from constant assistance when I can help it."

Amore allowed herself a small smile at that. For all the independence the Priesthood was allowed of the Church, when they were home it often felt as though she could barely get a moment alone.

Strangely enough, during their travels, Kishou had rarely left her side. Despite that, Amore could not recall a time when she wished he had. His company was a quiet, unimposing one. Even now, though he had helped her, she did not feel helpless for it. The man's words was cause for her smile to linger a little longer.

The Priestess lifted her hands to feel at the material of her new ensemble for the evening. It was simple, comfortable, not meant for showing stature or wealth but for treating all guests equal to the respite of the inn. Perhaps learning to live a bit more simply was a lesson to be had. She'd become so accustomed to her life of vibrancy as a Priestess that she'd forgotten what it meant to live as someone without.

"Thank you," three hours ago those words were long away from her vocabulary for the Forastero. Sighing, she let her hands drop again, only to find one of Kishou's just at her middle. Instead of shying away from it, she allowed both of her own to gently curl about it, "I feel much better now."

 

[Kishou]

The swordsman gave a soft chortle and whispered, "good, good."

A wide, wide smile stretched his cheeks. "I have not seen a smile from you in quite some time. I missed that."

His thumb gently stroked the back of one of her hands. Kishou looked down at them, his smile growing even wider at the difference in their hand size. He rolled his thumb over her knuckles, then traced a line to the palm of her hand. His grip on her was a strong yet gentle one.

The softness of the Priestess' hand was a pleasant surprise. It was the same softness he felt for a fleeting moment earlier that evening when she'd touched his face. He could savor it now.

"It really is lovely. Your smile, that is."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Silvered eyes stared, unfocused, just beyond his shoulder, crinkling beneath the weight of compliments. Amore felt warmth flush across her cheeks and a fluttering of anxiousness in her lungs. The curve of her lips wavered momentarily before wilting.

"It has been difficult since the island ... to find joy in my days."

Something she never would have openly admitted. Amore found the sensation of their hands together one that she wished she could wrap herself in. How easy it was to forget that he had taken her from her people against her will just days ago.

"But it is easier when I'm with you."

 

[Kishou]

Kishou squeezed her hand, bit his lip. Affection for the woman and the guilt, which had been reoccurring during their days in these lands, fiercely clashed in his heart. He wanted to apologize again, but no words came. Yet, a bountiful warmth spread through him, and with each beat of his heart, the heat continued to the tips of his fingers, the tips of his toes.

"I would have left Cortos," he whispered, "if it were not for your invitation that day. And the conversation we shared."

He lifted her hand to the corner of his jaw and smiled. For as well-spoken as he was, Kishou couldn't assign a single word or description to what he felt towards Amore. It was an entirely different, almost foreign emotion. It walked on legs, breathing and living and warm, and shook him to his core. And if he took the hand of this emotion, it would carry him into the future.

"If I could... I would make every day for you a joyous one."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

It felt much warmer in the bathhouse than it had mere minutes ago. Sake continued to swill through Amore's mind, drowning out inhibitions that would have staunchly opposed this moment of closeness, and allowing her to peruse the contours of his face with her fingertips again. She could feel his smile there in the turn of his cheeks and it made her heart flutter, her mind race. Could she remember what his smile looked like?

Her other hand continued clutching the one still lingering between them, squeezing it firmly as the tamber of his voice filled the space and silence between them.

That warmth persisted, growing steadily along her skin as though she'd been slowly taking steps toward a great fire. It was a familiar sensation, soothing, welcoming. As if returning to the feeling of the womb and the place where it all began.

Amore's eyes closed as she let that feeling fill her up while her fingers smoothed across the stubble along his jaw. Her thumb found his lips and with alarming clarity she found she could, infact, recall his smile. How handsome it was. Charming, even, in his exotic allure.

"I am glad you did not leave," could he feel that warmth that seemed to radiate off of her?

 

[Kishou]

Kishou closed his eyes as, once again, her fingers explored his features. Her fingertips brushed against him like hot iron. Her thumb pressed against his lips, the touch fanning the flames of passion that excitedly grew in his heart.

The bathhouse was utterly silent save for the sounds of their voices and the thundering cadence of Kishou's heartbeat. He gently grasped her wrist, and with the weightlessness of a water bug skipping over the surface of a pond, his lips fluttered over her thumb, knuckle, and back of her hand.

"I think I would have regretted that very much," he breathed into the back of her hand and opened his eyes.

Where were they? Cortos still? Alliria? Elbion? Or was this a dream, and when his eyes opened, would he feel the rocking of a Cortosi ship?

Oh, what he would give to let this dream persist.

The warmth between them was almost palpable and put the bath's heat to shame. Briefly, the image of the Priestess reaching into an open flame came into mind. Holding her hand against his lips, he imagined himself to be impervious to heat - that he could not be burned by her touch.

He let her hand go and reached for Amore's face, cupping her cheek and tracing the curve of her lips with his thumb. The smile never left his face.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Such strong but gentle hands. Amore recognized the feel of them from their travels; calloused from his life as a wanderer and swordsman, getting by through hard work. He'd lead her along many a walks with those hands, he'd danced with her in Alliria, he'd wiped the tears from her face. Now he tested the boundaries of permissible touch - something that would have made Mithri pale with outrage.

How dare he presume to get so familiar with the Priestess.

It made her own heart race. There was a thrill to what was forbidden and a quiet yearning to continue closing the gap. She'd never known such tenderness, nor the touch of sensuality. Amore leaned into his hand as it traced across her jaw, "Kishou, I-"

There came an abrupt rapping at the door to the bathhouse, the young woman calling in to ask if they needed anything. She startled at the sound, moony eyes blinking rapidly at the shock of it, and found herself withdrawing from her lean into his touch as if pulling herself out of a spell.

Perhaps Kishou had some magic of his own.

 

[Kishou]

If Kishou did have any magical capacity, it would only be to attract and suffer minor inconveniences.

Such as interruptions during moments of affection.

He deeply exhaled out of his nose. "No," he called out, his voice nearly catching. He cleared his throat, "we are just finishing. Thank you."

The small moments of intimacy that the pair shared for nearly a year could be contained in a box the size of the room they stood in, and even that would not be sufficient to hold them. Almost a year spent by Amore's side - how many hours of conversation had they shared? Her presence on his arm became natural, so much so that it was almost uncomfortable when she wasn't there. All of that threatened to explode at that moment. Yet, that fire was abruptly snuffed. And the hammering in his chest lulled as she subtly withdrew from his touch.

A frown replaced his smile, and his hand slowly fell from her cheek.

"Well," he murmured, "I suppose we should go back."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

A weary sigh passed from her chest and over her lips as Kishou answered the attendant. Amore shifted slightly, feeling the sudden weight of exhaustion hit her like a petulant ocean wind.

She nodded but couldn't bring herself to say anything back. That moment between them, whatever it had been, had managed to take away what words she had left in her. Their hands were still clasped between them and she gave his a gentle squeeze to indicate she was ready to go. Back to their room they went, their steps laden by the lateness of the hour and the sleep they both so desperately needed.

Perhaps a few other unspoken things.

Shown to the mattress, Amore carefully set herself down, one hand skating across the material for the blanket presently folded half open, the other for the pillow ... and the second beside it. She paused, her mind muddling through what she thought that meant, "Is there only one?"

Another moment before she tilted her head in the direction she last heard him, "It's alright if it is. Please," her eyes drifted down, "don't sleep on the floor."

 

[Kishou]

Kishou's silence was an answer on its own. He'd already picked out a relatively comfortable spot against the wall and usually would have talked around sharing the mattress with her, but couldn't muster the energy for it.

"Okay," he mumbled in concession and shuffled his feet across the floor. He knelt next to their humble bedding and, after a moment of deliberation, laid down. He stared up at the ceiling, hands folded over his chest.

He had a million things to say, or at least a million things racing through his mind. Another time, perhaps.

"Goodnight, Amore." He whispered.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

She sat stock still in his silence, ears straining to ear the moment he changed his mind. It arrived over an exhale of breath, a sullen word, and the sound of his feet padding across the floor. Admittedly she felt relieved, if only because knowing he had slept on the floor when there was room enough for both of them to enjoy a reprieve of comfort ... the guilt would have eaten her alive.

Easing back into the cushion of the mattress, a deep sigh sounded from the Priestess. Small blessings - she would count them until she lost track. With luck, her mind was too far gone to exhaustion and sake to think about how they would pay for all this in the morning ... or where they would go after this. She rolled to her side, facing the samurai as his weight settled next to her, and offered the tiniest, fleetingest of smiles. The tamber of his voice, though not terribly deep, was a soothing one.

"Goodnight, Kishou."

Closing her eyes had never been quite so easy, nor had falling asleep.

 

[Kishou]

Kishou turned his head to see Amore’s tiny smile. How lovely. It was the last thing he saw before his peaceful slumber.

When his eyelids fluttered open in the morning, he laid on his stomach, face half-buried in his pillow. Kishou shifted, stretched his legs out under the blanket, and softly groaned.

Doing his best to not disturb Amore, he rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. His body ached all over and despite however long it was he slept, he didn’t feel rested in the slightest.

He turned his head and shamelessly watched Amore with a small smile.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

She slept soundly through the rest of the night, head heavy and lulled by the lingering essence of alcohol. Kishou's rousing was enough to stir her from deep sleep and left her lingering in the wisps of a dream that could not possibly have been real. One that set her heart steadily thrumming in her chest, brought color to her cheeks. It wasn't an alarming sort of thing to experience, but waking up with an ache in her head and sleep so heavily clinging to her mind but her out of her bearings.

Amore's eyes blinked open, searching through a darkness that would not lift. She felt the pillow, the warmth of the blanket, the softness of the mattress, and immediately struggled to recall where she was or how she even got there.

A concerned sort of noise sounded as she quickly sat up, head swiveling with haste to strain for any sort of familiar sound, "...Kishou?"

 

[Kishou]

He tensed as she suddenly sat up. “I’m here. Good morning.”

Kishou propped himself up on his elbow and turned to face her completely.

“Is everything alright?”