The Hellebore series (currently: 'Day by Day')

[Artemis]

Hi everyone, and thanks



The next chapter will be along in a few days' time, I just had to take a couple of days out of my schedule to work on some other things.



nika: I love working on the descriptions, and (hopefully) coming up with a way to give plenty of detail without it coming across as laborious. I'm very flattered to be compared to Tolkien (As I think I said before at some stage, I jokingly call this my Lord of the Rings, except that rather than endless scenes of hobbits walking through countryside, it has Willow and Tara making out )



sabina: I'm looking forward to Willow and Tara's night at the opera too, I haven't really got it planned so I'll just be making it up as I go along. It was nice to show a sane mage, rather than an evil nutcase, and of course it's good for Willow as well



Arwen: Yeah, I was a bit nervous about *not* having much smut in this chapter (there you go, I get nervous no matter what), but they have to pause sometimes. Besides, I need to pace myself, otherwise I'll use up all my material before the story's finished



There's a bit of Dumbledore in Myrreon - some Gandalf, some Merlin, some Q (the James Bond engineer, not the omnipotent pest), a bit of da Vinci, all sorts of things. I tend to picture him as the old King from The Princess Bride - though he's a bit less senile, of course.



The orrery is largely modelled on the one from Tomb Raider - more complicated, to accomodate a more complicated solar system, but that sort of thing, yes. The initial idea, though, came about when I was watching The Dark Crystal, specifically Augra's laboratory. I think Myrreon's orrery has a bit of the bizarre construction of Augra's in it, rather than being just a straight-forward set of rotating arms.



Grimlock: Yeah, I was a bit muddled about that thing. I didn't want to call it a disc, because that sounds to me like it's a solid circle, but of course when you say 'ring' the instinct is to think jewellery. Plus I didn't want anyone thinking Willow had found the One Ring That's why I put in the bit at the end, comparing it to a chakram, so at least the Xena fans will know what I'm talking about. It's a ring in the geometric sense, rather than the jewellery sense, and yes, it's basically flat (a couple of millimetres thick, at most).



Myrreon does have a thing for physics, more than a traditional mage, but in Sanctuary the physical laws are heavily influenced by magic anyway, so really it's just another kind of magic. I think it's more likely some inventive craftsman came up with hot water plumbing, but Myrreon probably would have been asked to take a look at the plans when they were building it into the Palace. Myrreon, as a rule, is more interested in arcane theoretical pursuits than practical matters, hence his workshop overflowing with inventive miscellany.



Aside from the game's Horadric Cube (which is not so interesting - you put stuff in and hit the 'transmute' button, and that's it), I did have the Lament Configuration cube in mind. Mostly the version from The Hellbound Heart, the novella Hellraiser was based on, which you took apart piece by piece, and which played a melody that got more complex the more pieces you solved and removed. The opening sequence, with the star-shaped segment lifting up and rotating, was straight from the movie though, because it just looks so cool.



Returning the medallion to its original form was a risk, but only a small one. Given that evil beings can't use a cube, it was unlikely that the thing was a straight-forward trap, and the cube can't transmute anything living. In the unlikely event that it did turn out to be something dangerous, they had two mages and two apprentices there, plus Tara, which is a pretty good safeguard. Myrreon's workshop also has various standing 'safeguard' spells that reduce the danger of anything getting out of hand.



The Zann Esu keep their Horadric Cube in the vaults more because of its value than because of any danger. There's only a few left, and with someone who knows how to use them, they're phenomenally powerful, though not in a direct blow-up-the-enemy way. They've got way more dangerous stuff in the vaults, behind big thick doors and protection spells.



About the character names - it depends on the character. Myrreon was a combination of Myrrdin (which, if memory serves, is an old name for Merlin, though I've probably misspelt it) and Correon, who was a mage from a TV show called Spellbinder, and one of the many inspirations for Myrreon. Zan was just supposed to sound vaguely oriental, but not specifically oriental - he's from the far east, but I didn't want to fall into the trap of making Sanctuary's east just like ours with magic added, which is why I didn't pick something more identifiably asian. I had a specific reason for choosing Ocean's name (apart from my fondness for making proper names out of common nouns), which will be explained sooner or later - obviously she's not going to be getting many lines, but I'll figure something out.



Myrreon's theory wasn't that the medallion/ring isn't important (obviously someone went to great lengths to conceal it), but that the renegade mage was mistaken in thinking it was something that would help him. There's no way of telling what a transmuted object really is, short of reversing the transmutation, and obviously the renegade wasn't able to do that - without a cube, transmutation is a very, very tricky and subtle type of magic (sort of like launching a mission to Mars - you have to spend months planning it in every little detail, and even then something can still go wrong and screw it all up). It might have been possible to tell that it had been transmuted, though - there are some spells (also tricky, but doable) that replicate the cube's ability to resonate with transmuted objects. The theory is that the renegade knew there was something hidden in the medallion, but didn't know what, and took it in the hope that, having been hidden, it would turn out to be useful.



Shandem: Thanks



Debra: Thank you That market thing was entirely Tara's idea - I'd thought, maybe, they'd make out a bit in a secluded corner. Next thing I know she's got her clothes off That aside, that chapter was something I'd been planning for a while - since I noticed that I tended to have Tara more often take the initiative - so I'm glad it turned out well. And hot, can't forget hot. Thanks.



chilled monkey: Yup, another one of my common noun names - it's a habit I've gotten into, some of my pre-Willow/Tara stories had characters called The Dancer, Sapphire, Dusk, and my favourite hell-bitch Nemesis. My Diablo characters are the same - Nebula, Gem, Exile, and so on. I'm playing an exception to the rule at the moment, an ice sorceress called Mariska (after Mariska Hargitay from Law & Order SVU). I never saw Roswell, so I don't know anything about any Zan from that, I just made him up.



What's Tara going to wear? You'll just have to wait and see I promise it'll be worth it, it's something I borrowed from elsewhere, so I know what it looks like, and it's awesome.

[tklier]

This is such a great story. Can't wait to see what happens next!

[Artemis]

Thanks Well, no need to wait any longer, as what happens next is happening right now. (Sorry again for the delay everyone, I spent a few days this week doing the third draft of my Watchers story, and it takes me a day or so to 'shift gears' from contemporary back to fantasy.)

[Artemis]

Hellebore



Author: Chris Cook

Rating: NC-17

Summary: A headstrong sorceress and a young Amazon join forces to locate and destroy an ancient source of demonic power.

Spoilers: None.

Copyright: Based on characters from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and 'Diablo II' by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.

Feedback: Please. Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au

Author's note: Fifty chapters, ye gods...



--

Chapter Fifty

--



Tara stood in front of the mirror, staring critically at her reflection. She experimented a little with the bunching of the skirt at her hips, essayed a twirl, and smiled as the folds of fabric spun and fell perfectly into place. She pretended to bow to her mirror image, then got a mischievous smile, undid the topmost cross of laces over her chest, bowed again, and raised an eyebrow in anticipation.



'Uh-huh,' she thought to herself, 'she's going to *love* this.'



Tara had seen the dress in the shop window of the boutique Lissa had taken her to, a small, modest store not far from the Parliament house, and had been so entranced that she had without thinking walked right out from underneath their umbrella to get a better look. Luckily the night's storm had waned into a light drizzle, so she only got slightly damp before Lissa caught up with her. She had been overjoyed, and even Lissa had seemed pleased, when the woman who ran the store said she had such a dress already cut very close to Tara's proportions. She had taken Tara's measurements, asked a fairly reasonable price for such a stylish garment, and promised that the minor alterations she needed to make would be done well in time for the evening.



The rest of the afternoon was spent at the barracks of the Duke's army, a small fortified compound near the bridge across the Marien off-shoot that flowed behind the palace. Tara spoke at length to General Murine, a stocky man with close-cut white hair and a short white beard. Tryptin had included a couple of pages of notes with his letter, including some details of the campaign being waged in the north against the bandits, and the procedures and idiosyncrasies of the Duncraig military - Tara had been impressed with his ability to absorb information, considering he had never before set foot in the city, and Murine in turn seemed pleased that Tara understood his position and how best she could help him meet his needs. When she first arrived in his office overlooking the small parade ground he seemed very businesslike, speaking in short sentences, always to the point, but after the first few minutes, in which Tara had laid out the basics of the situation as she had seen it in the demon-infested lands to the south, he had evidently decided she was a serious warrior and perhaps a source of valuable information, and thus to be treated with more than common courtesy. They spent the next couple of hours retracing Tara and Willow's journey in detail, with the aid of one of the General's excellent maps which seemed to show every possible detail - even the stream at which they had paused to bathe after finding Amalee, and the little lake in the forest just over the ridge west of Kotram where Tara had lain on the sun-warmed stone and very physically reassured Willow of her wellbeing. Tara omitted the more personal details from her account, but left out nothing concerning demons - where they had been seen, what they had done, where they had found tracks or signs of them. The map even included a sketch of tunnels from the monastery to the villages, which Tara elaborated on. The General made careful note of everything she said in a small book, of which there were dozens lined up on a bookshelf. From the glimpses Tara had of his writing he used some sort of shorthand, with abbreviations and symbols, and wrote in a careful, small script such that all the information she gave him was compacted down into three pages.



With some time left before she intended to return to the Palace - she was sure Willow would be in the mage's tower all afternoon - the General gave her a brief tour of the compound, which as she had thought was quite new, built only seven years previously, to replace the old army quarters which had been within the Palace itself. Tara had mentioned some similarities between the compound's training grounds and her own, in Tran Athulua, and after a short discussion on training techniques for bows and javelins, Murine had invited Tara to demonstrate her talents. The compound's armoury was modern and well-stocked, and Tara quickly found a bow she liked the feel of, with which she put several arrows in a cluster at the centre of her target.



She wondered, thinking back on it, whether Tryptin might have already dropped a word in someone's ear about taking her on as an instructor, for the General had quite obviously been sizing her up as an archer, and on seeing her performance had offered her a contract on the spot. She looked forward to telling Willow the good news - ten crowns a day, four days a week, was enough to get by on in itself, but given that food and accommodation was provided for her as long as she stayed in the Palace, it meant that when she and Willow eventually headed towards Khanduras, she would have enough to see them comfortably through until the next large settlement when archery training might be in need.



'With enough for the occasional luxury as well,' she thought, taking another look at herself in the mirror. The dress was waiting, laid out on the bed, when she got back to the Palace, and Lissa gave her a thumbs-up as she passed the servants' quarters on the stairs. It was certainly worth every crown Tara had paid for it, and imagining Willow seeing her, she found herself growing quite excitedly impatient for her lover's return.



The dress was slate grey, with hints of blue as it caught the light, a luxurious hue that, quite aside from being stylish and elegant in itself, drew attention to the healthy glow of Tara's skin, and the gold of her hair which she wore loose around her circlet. The skirt was carefully pleated, gathered on either side her waist and flowing the floor, where it trailed just a fraction, enough to look stately without tripping anyone over. The bodice was simple yet eye-catching - slit down the front from waist to chest, held with double rows of crossed laces up to just below the middle of her chest, where it had just enough strength in it to hold itself up and open gently into a wide neckline, with lapels on either side of her exposed cleavage showing the pearl-white inner lining of the garment. Beneath it, a flat-topped black satin bustier was just high enough to be glimpsed as the bodice opened out, and was surprisingly comfortable - Tara had wondered whether it might be somewhat restraining, given the look of it, reminiscent of the tightly-corseted style of fashion, but in fact it was merely supportive. From the wide neck, which exposed almost the full width of her shoulders, the sleeves ran loosely down to cuffs held with tiny silver buttons, and Tara had found, as she had guessed in the shop, that her lightest pair of boots, dark grey, soft leather with pointed toes, matched the dress quite well, not that they were visible as anything but the occasional toe poking out from beneath the skirt as she walked. The whole effect was reminiscent of a very elaborate, baroque style, and might not have looked terribly out of place among bustles and hoop skirts, yet the dressmaker had taken the idea and applied to it a liberated style, creating a dress that was at the same time formal and downright sexy. Tara made a mental note to return to the shop and thank the proprietor for her work.



She smiled and crossed the room to stand near the breakfast table as she heard Willow's footsteps - fast, eager, and with the occasional sound of the base of her staff on the stairs - approaching from beyond the main door. The doorknob turned a fraction, then all the way.



"Hey, you back already?" Willow began asking before she had even come through the door, "next time you're free there's something you've just *got* to see, Myrreon's built a-"



She stopped in her tracks as she turned and saw Tara, the excitement on her face flooded away by a look of amazement.



"You like?" Tara smiled, twirling around once.



"Uh-huh," Willow said, as if dazed. "I-I mean yes... yes! Goddess, you're beautiful!" She dropped her staff in the corner, where it fell to lean against the mantelpiece, and took a few hesitant steps forward to stand in front of Tara, gazing into her eyes.



"More than beautiful," she whispered, leaning in to kiss her. Tara eagerly accepted her kiss, opening her mouth to give Willow free rein, to feel her as she pressed her lips against her, tentatively teased her with her tongue. Willow seemed entranced, slightly overwhelmed - Tara found it reminiscent of the lazy kisses they shared after climax, when they lay in each other's arms with all their strength gone.



"Mmmm... love you," she purred as Willow released her lips.



"I love you," Willow grinned, looking her up and down, "oh goddess, where did you get this?"



"Lissa showed me a shop on my way out to the barracks," Tara said, "they had it in just my size."



"So, you own this now?" Willow asked, as if not believing her luck. "It's not borrowed, or... you can put it on whenever you want?" Tara nodded.



"You can take it off whenever you want," she replied with a cheeky smile.



"Oh gods, don't tempt me," Willow said vehemently, "not that this afternoon was boring, no way, but I did kind of keep thinking about you, and this... this is just exquisite." She walked slowly around Tara, her hands trailing over her waist, absorbing every detail of the dress.



"What was it I had to see?" Tara asked, looking over her shoulder.



"Huh? Oh, just some thing..." Willow said vaguely.



"You mean I've actually made magic seem uninteresting?" Tara joked.



"Baby, you could make the whole world seem uninteresting," Willow said, still wide-eyed as she returned to stand in front of Tara. "It's this thing Myrreon's built, it's not working just yet but I've never seen anything like it. It's a sort of... kind of a clockwork engine for doing calculations. I spent an hour this afternoon looking over the plans for it and the parts he and Zan have put together already, after we went over the demon stuff, and I had a couple of ideas about it, so we're going to see if we can get a segment of the gearing working, to see how it goes with a few simple tests."



"What would you use it for?"



"Oh, who knows? There could be all sorts of applications, if it works, and if it turns out to be practical - at the moment only the motive elements are finished, and Zan says it throws a gear every five minutes or so. It's just a, an idea that got built. Myrreon does that a lot, just thinks of something, and off he goes and sees where the idea goes."



"He sounds like just the kind of tutor you'd go for," Tara observed.



"This definitely makes up for those mages in Kingsport who just gave me a bunch of books and shuffled me out of their rooms as quick as they could," Willow went on, "there's no way I'm going to get bored here. Two months in the Palace, then some more time at the university, and maybe a couple of weeks each with a few independent mages in the magical quarter - this is going to be great!" She jumped lightly and clapped her hands, which was so adorable that Tara couldn't resist gathering her in her arms and kissing her again.



"Ah... of course," Willow murmured, resting contently in Tara's arms, "I know one area of my life where I'm never bored, or unsatisfied." She smiled alluringly into Tara's gaze. "Or anything less than great."



"Darn right," Tara said, doing a passable imitation of Willow's voice. Willow giggled, then hugged Tara and rested her head on her shoulder, brushing her cheek lightly against her.



"Is it always going to be like this?" she asked. "Are you always going to make the simplest things, like wearing a fancy dress, or talking, or just holding you... so special I almost want to cry because I'm so happy?" Tara leaned to kiss her forehead, then began stroking her hair.



"That's the plan," she whispered.



"Yay," Willow murmured, tickling Tara's neck with her lips. She gave Tara a final squeeze, then loosened her hug enough to stand back a little way and look at her.



"So, would you like to come see the amazing breaking-down thinking engine?" she smiled.



"I'd like that," Tara replied, "it sounds fascinating. If Myrreon doesn't mind having me around his workshop?"



"Oh, of course not!" Willow grinned. "When we were talking about the demon I explained most of what happened to us, and all the stuff about you and your magic fascinated him. Not just the lightning-blast kind, the sensing as well. I think he'd like the chance to talk to you again."



"That's nice of him," Tara said, "I liked talking to him. He seemed very smart."



"He certainly is," Willow said, reluctantly disengaging herself from Tara's arms to snatch a bite to eat from the bowl of fruit on the table. "A bit forgetful sometimes, but wow he's smart. Some of the times he got going about the work he's done on astrology, or magical energy flow theory, I had trouble keeping up sometimes. Not for long," she added, smiling sidelong at Tara.



"I know," Tara said, pulling around the other chair to sit beside her, "I bet by the time you're finished studying with him you'll have absorbed every last bit of knowledge in that workshop." She picked an apple and took a bite. "How did things go about Shadai? Promising?"



"Definitely promising," Willow nodded, "Myrreon himself is more into natural mechanics, stuff on this plane, but he knows the theory behind the ethereal planes easily as well as I do, probably better in parts. He was a bit surprised at the idea of a demon existing within an ethereal plane - fair enough, it's not what you'd expect - but the more we went over what we know and what's been going on, the more he saw it was the most likely explanation. Mostly he took as many notes as I could give him, added in all the theory he knew, and that's going to go to the university for their mages to have a look at and see what they can come up with." She leaned back in her chair and took a thoughtful bite from the peach she had chosen.



"The danger aside, it's an interesting problem," she said, "the nature of the ethereal plane makes it more a matter of brainwork than power. I mean, normally with a demon the best thing to do - unless you're a *very* good banisher, and I'm not looking to make that mistake again - is to just hit it with as much power as you can muster. The only need for subtlety is to see that as much power as possible goes into attacking the demon's physical form itself, rather than blasting apart half the building it's in, or blowing a great big crater out of the ground. In this case it's all different. Myrreon thinks the solution will probably be some sort of dimensional warping spell, to sort of slide the demon, which in the ethereal plane is basically an energy form, out of the plane and into interplanar meta-space, where the natural bond between Shadai and her home in the deepest darkest pit of hell will take effect and zip her back there like releasing the catch on a crossbow." She paused and glanced at Tara. "You're following this, right?"



"I think so," Tara smiled, "after all, I've been around you for a while, and you're so overflowing with magical learning that I guess it's been rubbing off on me."



"Rubbing off on you, huh?" Willow smirked. Tara laughed, and Willow went on: "Anyway, instead of a matter of battle magic, it's all to do with some of the most rarefied theoretical magics that exist, real academia stuff. Sort of whoever has the biggest brains wins. Luckily demons aren't known for their smarts. Cunning, some of the powerful ones, but not that kind of intellect. Whereas we have a university on our side. Did you know," she added, grinning, "they've got a Professor of Applied Ethereality?" She shook her head. "This city has *everything*."



She paused in her enthusiasm, Tara watching fondly, as the bell outside the door rang.



"From the laundry, Miss Willow," Tara heard Lissa say when Willow opened the door.



"Ooh! Thanks. Tara, turn around," Willow said.



"Hmm?" Tara asked, turning away from the door nonetheless.



"My dress," Willow said, "thanks Lissa. The one you haven't seen yet," she went on, closing the door, "it'd spoil the surprise if you saw me putting it on, and I definitely owe you a pleasant surprise considering how gorgeous you look tonight. Okay, you can look."



Tara turned around again, seeing Willow by the bed, where her dress was presumably laid out beneath the sheet she had pulled back.



"Um," Willow said, "this'll take a moment... we could kind of do with another room here..."



"You want me to wait in the bathroom?" Tara offered. Willow looked slightly pained at the idea.



"If there was a comfy chair in there, yeah, but - how about I change in the bathroom, and you wait out here?"



"There's no full-length mirror in there," Tara pointed out, "how about this, there's probably going to be food going around at the performance, but just snacks and stuff. If you want, I could go with Lissa and get a light dinner from the kitchen, and that'll give you time to change."



"Okay," Willow smiled, "good thinking. If they've got any, I'm in the mood for a pastry?"



"Sounds good," Tara agreed, walking towards Willow, "but before I go..." She reached out to trail her fingertips over Willow's hip.



"Hmm?" Willow shivered lightly.



"Well," Tara murmured, "I may not be able to see you get dressed, but that doesn't mean I can't help you *un*dress, does it?"



"Oh," Willow said, a smile of comprehension dawning over her face, "yeah, you're quite right, it doesn't... well then," she grinned, "shall I place myself in your capable hands?"



"Sounds good," Tara said again, this time in a seductive purr. Standing behind Willow she undid the thin sash around her waist and slipped her Zann Esu robe from her shoulders, catching it as it fell and laying it on the bedside table. She hugged Willow from behind, looking over her shoulder at the mirror, lazily taking in Willow's reflection from head to toe in her loose buttoned tunic, silky skirt and soft boots.



"You know," she murmured in Willow's ear, reaching around her to start to undo her buttons, "I think you get sexier every time I look at you."



"I do?" Willow asked, slightly incredulous but not particularly inclined to argue while Tara's hands brushed against her nipples through the thin fabric of her top.



"You do," Tara confirmed, "I think because whenever I look at you every detail is locked into my memory, clear and brilliant as sunlight... then when I look again, every little sexy smile you've ever given me, every sway of your hips, every wiggle of that delightful bottom," she grinned and gave Willow a light swat with one hand, as the other finished undoing her top, "is all still with me. So every time I look at you, there's more sexiness just..." She paused and kissed the back of Willow's neck through her hair. "...just filling me up."



"Is that right...?" Willow breathed. Her shirt had fallen open, leaving a wide gap between the halves of its front all the way up from her waist, which Tara's hand idly followed. Tara grinned and stroked her finger up and down Willow's cleavage, playing with the catch on her bra.



"Uh-huh," she whispered, "and you know I can never get enough Willow." Willow nodded silently, a delighted shiver running up her spine.



"Mmm-mmm," Willow purred contentedly, as if savouring a pleasant taste. "You know what this reminds me of? Remember the first night we slept together - I mean, slept in the same bed - back at the Baron's castle? The morning after, after we'd teased each other a bit-"



"I remember," Tara said, one hand on the waist of Willow's skirt, the other sneaking in beneath her tunic to cup her right breast through the fabric of her bra, "you told me... you went back to your room, looked in the mirror..."



"...imagined you were there with me," Willow picked up as Tara pressed a kiss to her shoulder, slipping her tunic down her arm, "gods, remember me telling you?"



"It's not the kind of moment I could ever forget," Tara smiled, "but you know, you didn't go into much detail when you were whispering to me and feeling me get wetter and wetter against your thigh. How, exactly, was I holding you?"



"I'd taken off my skirt as well," Willow said as Tara slipped off her tunic and tossed it lightly on top of her robe. She put both arms around Willow and quickly undid the cord in her skirt, crouching as she slid it down her legs, resting her cheek against Willow's thigh as she stepped out of the pool of material on the ground.



"And you weren't wearing any panties that morning, were you?" Tara asked, staring up the length of Willow's body as Willow looked down at her.



"No," Willow grinned, "they were in your laundry basket, and all my other clothes were back in my room, so I couldn't. No-one knew, with the long skirt. Except you, of course." Tara kissed her thigh.



"Naughty girl," she murmured. With Willow eagerly watching, she reached up and took hold of the waist of her underwear, pulling the thin covering very slowly down her thighs, her calves, and carefully pulling the loops over her boots. She glanced up at Willow, then delicately held the fabric close and inhaled.



"Mmm," she purred, "Willow-scent." A grin spread across her face, and she bunched up the underwear and, holding the low neck of her dress out with her other hand, tucked it into her cleavage beneath the bustier.



"Who's the naughty girl now?" Willow challenged with a grin. Tara gave her a shameless smile in reply, then stood up slowly, circling around Willow as she did so, letting her eyes pass very deliberately over her body as she rose. Standing behind Willow, she again leant over her shoulder.



"Like this?" she whispered, gazing at their reflections in the mirror. "Breathing deep, watching your chest rise and fall... watching the moistness glisten between your legs..."



"All I wanted was for you to touch me," Willow answered, closing her eyes, "just to feel your hands on me... for you to enjoy me..."



"Touch you like this?" Tara asked, resting one arm around Willow's waist while the other returned to her breast. "Is this how it was?" She gently tugged down the cup of her bra, revealing her breast before covering it with her hand.



"That's it," Willow breathed, her hands covering Tara's, guiding them, "teasing my nipple... oh yes, like that... and this hand," she guided Tara's other hand to cup her mound, "oooh... holding me... ready to take me..."



"You weren't wasting much time, were you?" Tara chuckled, pressing lightly, rhythmically, with her palm, massaging Willow's mound.



"After the teasing you gave me that morning?" Willow asked gleefully. "Uh-uh, I was just lucky I made it to my room!" Tara laughed, and lightly stroked a single finger along the length of Willow's folds, drawing a sigh from her. She stepped around Willow, standing in front of her, and in full view of her lifted her finger and delicately licked every trace of moisture from it.



"Divine," she smiled.



"There's more where that came from," Willow said with an innocent grin. Tara laughed again, then kissed her, slow and carefree.



"Later," she said, "we've got a show to see. We don't want to be late." She raised an eyebrow at Willow's wide-eyed stare.



"You are evil," Willow accused, breaking into a grin as she put her hands on her hips and, in spite of the grin, mustering her best glare.



"We've already established you're naughty; wouldn't you say we make a good pair? I promise I'll make it up to you," Tara smiled. Willow laughed and skipped around Tara to swat her bottom.



"Ooh! Is that how the Zann Esu deal with evil when they find it?" Tara purred.



"Nope," Willow quipped, "just something I came up with myself." Tara gave her another quick kiss.



"You're not mad?" she asked tenderly.



"Aw, even when you're evil you're so sweet," Willow replied, gazing fondly at Tara and cupping her face in her palms. "I'm not mad, I promise."



"Okay," Tara said, relieved, and smiling again. "You know I don't want to frustrate you..."



"I know," Willow said, kicking off her boots and undoing her bra, "you just love to tease me! Don't worry, I can wait, my sexy temptress. Now, dress time, off you go." She playfully shooed Tara towards the door.



"Yes ma'am," Tara grinned in reply, "pastries, right?"



"If they've got any."



"Back soon. Love you," Tara said, blowing Willow a kiss as she opened the door.



"Love you too," Willow replied, miming catching it and placing it next to her heart.



-----



Tara still felt slightly guilty for so mercilessly teasing Willow - though not enough to upset her, thanks to Willow's reassurances - but she found she too was in a state of anxious anticipation as she climbed the stairs, a jug in one hand and a tray in the other, with a pair of pastries hot from the oven than she and Lissa had liberated from the kitchen. She tried, and failed, to stop herself guessing what Willow might be wearing - aside from her Zann Esu battlegear, the only formal attire she had seen Willow in was the green dress she had worn at Kingsport castle. But the secrecy Willow had employed in preparing her dress for the night's outing told Tara that it was going to be something different.



'Probably something that'll knock me off my feet,' Tara thought with a grin. She reached the landing, set the tray and jug aside, and knocked on the door.



"Your dinner is here, Miss Willow," she called in a playful voice. She heard a stifled giggle from inside, then footsteps, and the doorknob turned.



The door swung open, and Willow stood before her, striking a casually sexy pose, one foot in front of the other, her hand resting high on the doorframe. Tara felt her jaw drop, and was glad their dinner was safely on the landing table, not in her hands where she probably would have dropped everything in delighted surprise. From her neck to the floor Willow was clad in a deep, rich scarlet, matching her hair, velvet and soft, practically demanding to be touched, stroked, worshipped. The neck of the dress was high, and it widened over her chest, covering everything quite modestly, though as Willow half-turned and grinned Tara caught a glimpse of the hem plunging low on her back, where she was bare almost to the waist. But aside from that, and her bare arms, she was completely covered - not that it made any difference, for the dress clung to her as tightly as Tara wanted to, cupping her breasts, curving in around her waist, clinging to her hips, outlining her shapely thighs, finally loosening beneath her knees to flow elegantly to the ground. She wore a slim sash, scarlet to match her dress, with thin strands of silver threaded through it, loose around her waist, looped at the front and trailing down to her ankles. She had foregone any other decoration, and Tara couldn't imagine how any amount of jewellery, trim or woven patterns could make her any more beautiful and downright desirable than she already was.



"So," Willow said in a soft murmur, "do I look good enough to escort you tonight?" Tara couldn't help but laugh at the question.



"You look good enough to escort me even if I was visiting the houses of the gods themselves," she smiled. "Better, in fact. You'd make the other goddesses jealous."



"Thank you," Willow said shyly, leaning forward to gently kiss her. Tara caught her around the waist, and for a long moment they stayed there in the doorway, sharing a long, promising kiss.



"Is that pastry I smell?" Willow grinned when she eventually leant back.



"It seems they're popular in the Palace kitchens," Tara said, picking up the tray and handing it to Willow, "Lissa said they've usually got some in the oven just in case someone wants a snack."



"Yum," Willow said taking a bite from hers, "ooh, nice and hot... remind me to thank her later. You know," she went on as Tara followed her into the room and moved to pour a glass of juice, "that look you had just now, when you saw me-"



"Complete delight?" Tara said over her shoulder.



"...seeing you light up like that, at seeing me - thank you," she interrupted herself, taking the glass Tara offered her, "that was so lovely. I felt- I *feel*, wonderful. Thank you my love."



"You're welcome," Tara smiled, giving her a lingering kiss before pouring herself a glass. "You really do look absolutely beautiful."



"So do you," Willow replied. She sidled up next to Tara and leant against her, allowing both of them to share the simple physical contact as they ate.



"It's funny to think back," Tara mused, "last time I was at home, I was apprehensive about making this journey."



"That's fair enough," Willow noted, "your first time away from home and all. I mean, I've had a nice head-start on travelling all over the place, but still, I'd never been to Westmarch before, and it's a long way from anywhere I've known."



"If I'd known I'd find you," Tara went on, "I wouldn't even have waited for the ship, I'd just have swum the whole way." Willow laughed out loud, and hugged her with one arm as she finished off her pastry.



"Hmm," she murmured to herself.



"What?" Tara asked.



"Huh? Oh," Willow grinned, "just imagining you swimming. Well, not swimming as such, more lazily floating around in crystal clear waters. Somewhere safe, but nicely remote... no-one else to see us."



"Ah," Tara nodded, "no need to wear anything, then. Are you standing on the bank watching me?"



"You think you can entice me into the water?"



"I think I could," Tara said lightly, "if I come over to the shore, wading through the shallows towards you, all glistening wet, sunlight shining off my naked body, water dripping from me, flowing down my legs..."



"Okay, you got me," Willow said with a chuckle.



"Next time we're travelling, keep an eye out for safe, remote lakes," Tara murmured.



"I certainly will," Willow promised. "Eat up, we should head downstairs soon. It'll take a few minutes for us to even get to the entrance hall."



"And we wouldn't want to be late," Tara agreed.



-----



The rain had started up again, light but constant, so that the assembled guests of the Duke were in the hall, rather then out on the steps, when Willow and Tara reached them. They exchanged polite greetings and nods with a few noblemen and other influential guests, none of whom they knew and none of whom seemed to know who they were, not that that stopped them making their most courteous greetings to the two women. Lissa, who had accompanied them in an elegant, if subdued, dress, drifted over to where the various servants and attendant were assembled.



"Wow, you got his attention," Willow said quietly, after they exchanged a few words with a man in an extravagantly expensive jacket. His gaze was still fixed on Tara as they walked away.



"Well, that military man before him nearly hit the floor with his jaw when he saw you," Tara replied with a grin.



"No way," Willow protested, "he was looking at you!"



"You," Tara said, "he saw me first, but then his eyes never left you. I think the woman on his arm might have given me more than a casual glance, though," she admitted, bashfully but with just a hint of satisfaction.



"Just so long as it's just looks," Willow warned with a smile. "Hey, we could play a game, see who gets the most stares tonight. You'd win," she added.



"You'd win," Tara countered.



"I think we'll just have to agree to disagree on this one," Willow admitted with a rueful shake of her head.



"Guess so," Tara agreed, "oh, hey, look! Come on." She steered Willow to one side of the hall and pointed out Tryptin, just arriving from the Palace's diplomatic wing. He smiled and waved when he spotted them nearing.



"Tara, Miss Willow," he greeted them, "you both look lovely. Where did you get that?" he asked Tara, "it's not from home, is it?"



"Our attendant found a shop for me this afternoon," Tara said.



"Let me know where?" Tryptin asked. "I'd like to take something back for Melora, she'd love a dress like that."



"Your wife?" Willow asked.



"Soon to be," Tryptin said with a fond smile, "not long after we get home, actually. That's the one drawback to being on this mission - it's exciting to travel, but I can't wait to get home." He smiled to himself. "Well, and I don't have her here to take to the performance. But rather than let the seat go to waste, Galt here is my guest," he nodded to another Amazon, a broad-shouldered man with a surprisingly gentle face for his solid frame, standing a few metres away, who noticed his nod and wandered over, "one of our up-and-coming traders, and quite a musician, so this should be an interesting experience. Have you met Willow?"



"Speaking of home," Tara said quietly, as Willow and Galt exchanged greetings, "you should know, I... I'm, ah, staying. I mean, not forever, of course," she went on, slightly flustered, "but, well, Willow's going to be staying here for some time, and then travelling more, and I want to stay with her... what?" Tara paused in the face of Tryptin's knowing smile. Willow, who had come back to Tara's side, took her hand and held it warmly.



"It's not really a surprise," Tryptin said, allowing Tara a sigh of relief. "I can't imagine you two parting. Actually I thought you'd stay together even when we were travelling, and since you got back from your adventure in the wild... well, the bond between you is obvious." He smiled at Willow, then at Tara. "You'll be missed, both of you. But I'd be a fool to suggest you should be anywhere but with each other."



"Thank you," Tara said joyfully.



"I'll let Eponin know when I write to her that you're in good hands," Tryptin said. He turned to glance at a group of new arrivals in the hall, missing Willow and Tara glancing at each other and blushing.



"I'll write to her as well, of course," Tara added when he turned back. "The letter I sent from Kingsport, I," she glanced at Willow, "I was pretty sure. I told her I wanted to stay."



"But we'll come home," Willow put in, "to Tara's home, I mean, once I've finished studying and we're done travelling. So long as you don't mind having a sorceress among the Amazons," she added with a grin.



"Look for me in the party greeting you when you step off the ship," Tryptin smiled. He looked at Tara, leaving Willow to grin gleefully and hold Tara's hand in both of hers, idly stroking her thumbs back and forth.



"So," he said, "your meeting with the General went well?"



"Yes," Tara replied, "he offered me a contract as an instructor." She turned, smiling, to Willow, who had started at hearing her. "Sorry I didn't tell you," she said sheepishly, "I guess it kind of slipped my mind, what with the dress and... all that," she finished with a slight blush, glancing at Tryptin.



"It's okay," Willow said, waving a hand dismissively, "so you're an instructor? That's so cool! It is, isn't it? You'll enjoy it?"



"I expect I will," Tara said, "I had a quick tour of the barracks and training grounds today, it looked quite up to date, and the soldiers looked very professional, I think it'll go well."



"A contract is a good position to have," Tryptin offered, "rather than a temporary commission. It means you'll have a formal rank, a standing within the army, but you won't be required to do active service. A commissioned instructor might be required to accompany a unit into battle, in an emergency."



"No thanks," Tara smiled.



"The contract system is becoming fairly common," Tryptin went on, "a lot of mercenaries sign on as instructors between campaigns, but don't want to be tied to a regiment in case it's suddenly activated, and resigning a commission with good standing can be tricky sometimes."



"Did you have something to do with this?" Tara asked slyly.



"Well, nothing so obvious as telling the General you were looking for a job," he said, "but a word here and there, in the right ear, it's surprising what you can do. Don't worry, I didn't exaggerate anything," he added, "if the General gave you a contract, he did it based on what he saw, not what people told him about you. Amazon archers have a good reputation generally, of course, but I know you won't have any trouble upholding that."



A trumpet sounded from the courtyard outside, and the crowd of guests began to shuffle towards the main doors, with servants quickly catching up, ready to raise umbrellas as they reached the steps. Tryptin drifted off with Galt, leaving Willow and Tara to walk together towards the doors.



"My lady?" Tara said, offering her arm to Willow.



"My warrior," Willow smiled in reply, looping her arm through Tara's, and together they made their way towards their carriage.

[JustSkipIt]

Wow, 50 chapters! and not short ones either. I can't imagine where you have the time to write to prolifically (if that's even a word). I love this chapter for it's beauty and descriptions. The descriptions of the clothing as well as the grounds, the magic, and even the food are wonderful. Great job!

[Arwen276]

Back to the naughty-'evilness'... YUMMY!!

I really liked the sweet moments they share, 'those simple moments' Willow describes, Tara's tenderness towards her love, the mutual teasing with the dresses and well everything!



Keep it up!!





~Arwen

Hear That Baby? You're My Always... Willow

[Puff]

Wow 50 chapters! As a word document this fic is already huge, I know I have it all saved on my PC I like the interaction between Willow, Tara and Tryptin it is so great that he understands and supports them. I am glad to hear that as a contracted instructor Tara will not be called upon to go into battle at all...I could go a while seeing them both safe and sound. Great update and I am still really enjoying this fic, I hope we still have a long way to go. Great job Chris.

---

So, the day started and I knew my name and had my pants on. So far, so good. Yay.
Amber Benson

[Grimlock72]

Sweet and lovingly... those are the words that came to mind when reading this chapter. I especially liked the scene in their room after Willow had seen Tara's dress.



I kept thinking that they should be carefull to mess up the shiny new dress though . So it was good thing they stopped they did, Willow will probably disagree... heh.



There's no need to apologize for being a tiny bit late with updating such a HUGE story, really. I do indeed wonder how you ever find the time to do both this story and the watchers one.



Oh yeah... I love enthiousiastic Willow bouncing around the room and clapping her hands. Merryn should be a very good teacher for Willow indeed, Willow likes to learn and there's lots of knowledge there.



Grimmy

--
"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[Shandem]

hello Chris



That was such a good chapter. I loved the way you described the dresses. I think I want to have Tara's dress and make my girlfriend's jaw drop. Willow's dress sounds absolutly scorching HOT!!. Where did the ideas come for the dresses?

If missing you could blacken stars, there’d be no midnight show. If missing you could make it rain, the seas would overflow. If missing you could make it hot,

there’d be deserts all around. If missing you could silence noise, the earth would have no sound. And so I go on dreaming of when I’m holding and kissing you. For only God knows how much it hurts when, my love, I’m missing you.-Me to my girl V

Edited by: Shandem at: 2/1/04 5:04 pm

[sabina]

Hi Artemis



Sorry, I'm a late with my reply...



First congratulations on your fifty chapters. This is an amazing story.



Second, this was a very sweet update

I loved all the details that you gave about their preparations to the opera. And their interaction in front of the mirror was fun to read... even if it left Willow a little frustrated. But then again I'm sure Tara will take good care of her later



Now I'm curious to see how will their trip to the opera go

---

"I know I was born and I know that I'll die.

The in between is mine.

I am mine!" - Pearl Jam

[chilled monkey]

I don't really know anything about fashion, but I have to agree that the girls' dresses sound delightful.



The trip to the opera should be interesting (and what happens after should be even more interesting).

[sam7777]

Congratulations on 50 wonderful chapters!!



I always like to see Tryptin. He's such a sweetie. I look forward to Willow's adventures with the court mage and Tara's with the archery range and their other aventures of course. I love how you handle possesion and love. It's very much about the giving as well as the courage to take and I've never seen it better done. I love this fic.

[Artemis]

Thanks everyone The next chapter is done - this and 50 were actually going to be a single chapter, but seeing as the previous one was already looking pretty long, and I wanted the opera nice and grand, I split them. So here's chapter 51, or if you like, 50 part deux.



Debra: Heh, where I get the time is that, aside from this and Watchers, I'm otherwise quite unproductive Plus there's about two and a half hours of TV per week I actually watch, so I have lots of free leisure time to write in. (Iron Chef, Law & Order SVU and Witchblade, in case anyone was curious). Thanks



Arwen: I was pleased to get that 'simple moment' line in. It's not always the big moments that I think turn out the sweetest, sometimes it's something mundane like sharing breakfast or taking a walk. Besides, it's Willow and Tara, they're *always* sweet.



Puff: Nup, Tara's not going to be called to action, at least not by way of being a combat instructor - she's not a soldier, nor will she ever be. She's a hero, of course, but that's a calling more than a profession But she knows archery and spear fighting well enough to be damned useful to soldiers as a tutor.



Grimlock: Yeah, Willow was a bit frustrated there. Then again, I think she likes being teased. She knows she'll never go unsatisfied, so it just makes it sweeter



Shandem: Willow's dress was a design I based on something I saw in a friend's medieval costume pattern book, though I added the bare back to make it a bit more modern. But that was the basis for the simple design with just the trailing sash decorating it, which I think looks lovely.



Tara's dress is easier to find - it's worn by Lisa Marie as Ichabod's mother in the dream sequence of Sleepy Hollow. I spent a while with the DVD paused on her spinning around in the flowers and floating up into the air to get all the details, even though I ended up only vaguely describing it.



Sabina: Thank you Yep, Tara is going to take very good care of Willow, you betcha. I did actually think that little teasing session in front of the mirror was going to go on longer, but it was as people have mentioned getting pretty close to the point where Tara would have had to get into her dress all over again.



chilled monkey: Don't worry, I know even less about fashion. I just know what I like, and both of those when I saw the original designs struck me as totally gorgeous.



Sam: I like Tryptin too - funny, he was just a name I invented in the second chapter, and I didn't have any plans for him to do anything. We'll see some more of Willow learning magic, and some of Tara's training the soldiers at the barracks, along the way.

[Artemis]

Hellebore



Author: Chris Cook

Rating: NC-17

Summary: A headstrong sorceress and a young Amazon join forces to locate and destroy an ancient source of demonic power.

Spoilers: None.

Copyright: Based on characters from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and 'Diablo II' by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.

Feedback: Please. Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au



--

Chapter Fifty-One

--



Tara climbed first into the enclosed carriage, and reached out a hand to help Willow up.



"Are you riding with us?" she asked Lissa, who had walked with them, holding up a large umbrella against the steady rain.



"If you wish, Miss," she said, folding the umbrella after lifting the hood of her thick cloak, "attendants either ride with the noblemen and ladies if they wish, or up front with the driver."



"In the rain?" asked Willow incredulously, reaching out to help Lissa inside, as Tara took her umbrella and stowed it out of the way.



"Thank you Miss," the servant smiled, seating herself on the front seat, opposite where Willow and Tara sat down. "Usually not in the rain, no, but some prefer their privacy. Just between you and me," she added, leaning forward with a slight grin, as if sharing a secret, "some of the noblemen still behave like they're in the olden days, when servants were a caste, and indentured."



"Well, I'm sure we don't need to be alone for a five minute ride to the opera house," Willow said. "Assuming you can restrain yourself," she added in a quiet murmur in Tara's ear, grinning as Tara shot her a scandalised stare, with the corners of her mouth struggling not to smile.



"Have you been to the opera before?" Tara asked Lissa, to cover her reaction, and keep from giving Willow the satisfaction of catching her out in their ongoing flirting game.



"Once Miss," the servant said, "several months ago, a guest I was attending made a visit. But he was in the stalls, so I didn't go in with him. But in the boxes, which is where your seats are tonight, it's normal for servants to stand behind the seats in case they're needed, so," she grinned, "I get to see the show."



"Have you ever seen an opera?" Willow wondered.



"Not properly Miss," Lissa replied, "now and then the Duke's had performers at the Palace and I've heard them sing, but that's all, never a full opera. Even the smaller house down by the university is more than I can afford, just for one night's entertainment. The opera house, which is to say the Royal Opera, which we're going to tonight, is very prestigious, only the nobility and the wealthy go there."



"What about you?" Tara asked Willow.



"Hmm? Oh, no," she said, "opera as an art form hasn't made it to Kurast yet. It's very big in Entsteig, that's where some of the most famous operas were written, but I was just one of the apprentices, so seeing an opera wasn't really within the realm of possibility. Like you said," she said to Lissa, "it's for the wealthy and prestigious. Sorceress apprentices get enough of an allowance to do a little shopping and maybe see a show at a music hall, but opera, nuh-uh."



"It's not a full opera tonight," Lissa offered, "it's the anniversary gala, for the Duke and Duchess. It's held every year sometime during the month of their marriage, usually whenever the opera house can clear its schedule for a night. Jesye, who you met this morning, was with the Duke's party last year, she told me about it - they have all sorts of performers from all over the world, music and song and dance and, well, who knows what. Some of the performers are brought in just for the gala, and otherwise you'd never see them in Westmarch."



"Sounds like it'll be a memorable evening," Willow said.



"When Jesye found out I'd be taking the evening shifts, she made me promise to remember every detail, to tell her later," Lissa smiled. "For a servant, it's a once in a lifetime kind of thing." She paused, then spoke up again.



"Forgive my curiosity, Miss," she said to Tara, "but I wondered, what do Amazons do as performance?"



"That's fine," Tara assured her, "well, dancing is popular - as a pastime it's encouraged for warriors, we dance a bit more," she gave Willow a quick grin, "athletically than what seems to be common here."



"There's stories about Amazons, with dancing," Lissa admitted, "but, they're kind of fanciful."



"There might be a little basis in fact to them," Tara said, "aside from performance for its own sake, there are ritual dances that tell the legends of our gods and our greatest heroes. Some of them... well," she grinned shyly, "our gods and heroes had interesting lives, and the performances don't really leave out the, um, 'fanciful' parts." She was acutely aware of Willow's attention, not to mention her thigh pressed up against her. "There's song as well," she went on, discreetly taking Willow's hand beside her and stroking it, "our earliest stories were passed down as songs. Most of them have been adapted for dancers and actors as well, but we keep the songs as well."



"They're beautiful," Willow added, smiling fondly at Tara. The carriage lurched gently, then set off to the accompaniment of the clatter of hooves on the courtyard cobblestones, and the occasional quiet creak from the suspension.



"There's a place you might both like to visit if you get the time, Miss," Lissa ventured, "the Sanctum, it's a playhouse, where the Duke's Players perform. The cheap spaces are quite reasonable, if you don't mind standing, or there's seats in the galleries if you'd prefer, and the Players are the best in the city. I heard some of them would be performing a scene tonight."



"Do you go there often?" Tara asked.



"Not often, as such," Lissa smiled, "but now and then. The week before you both arrived I saw one of the chapters of Akarat, and it left me awed the whole afternoon."



"Akarat, the Zakarum prophet?" Willow asked.



"Yes Miss. About ten years ago the church commissioned one of the playwrights attached to the Duke's company to write a play about their prophet's life. Only he got enthusiastic, I suppose, and it ended up five plays, the 'chapters'. They're very popular - I'm not a believer, but you don't have to be to enjoy the story. The Players usually have a company performing Akarat during the year, one chapter at a time. The season for the fourth chapter just finished recently, the showing I saw was a dress rehearsal of the fifth. They'll be starting in a couple of weeks."



"What do you think?" Willow asked, giving Tara a sly grin.



"You'd like to see it?" Tara replied.



"Well, if it's as good as you say," Willow said, giving a nod to Lissa, "you know, I've studied some of the old Zakarum texts, and I always thought it would make a pretty spectacular story. It's all very larger-than-life. Oh," she said with a sudden grin, "there's a whole branch of holy magic specifically related to the Zakarum paladins, so technically it'd be a learning experience. I don't think the Order would mind if I used a little of the money I've got on a couple of modest yet comfortable seats."



"For you and your co-researcher in magic?" Tara smiled. Lissa hid her own grin, then turned her attention to one of the carriage's windows, giving her two charges some measure of privacy.



"Absolutely," Willow insisted lightly, "I learn twice as much when you're around, 'cause I get to see everything through your eyes as well. Plus, you know what they say, a happy student is a good student?" She shifted a little closer to Tara on the seat, and leaned over, brushing her cheek on Tara's shoulder. "You make me a very, very good student." Tara smiled radiantly and put her arm around Willow's shoulders.



"Thank you, love," she murmured, "and of course I'd love to go with you. As if I could ever refuse a night out with you anyway."



The ride took only a few minutes, and then the carriage was slowly edging its way through the crowd of people and coaches in the circular plaza surrounding the opera house. Willow and Tara both leaned close to the window, staring up at the building dominating the whole area, a massive, imposing structure of carved stone, great columns rising four storeys, and between them dozens of windows, all glittering with light from within. The steps and driveway were teeming with guests, each pair or group attended by servants, holding umbrellas and cloaks. A canvas shelter extended from the opera house's front steps, so that the most important of the arrivals, whose carriages were drawing up right in front of the building, could walk the short distance to the interior in dry comfort. Though dusk had faded into evening, the whole plaza was lit bright as day by dozens of oil lamps, aided by a pair of wide bronze fire bowls, like great lighthouse signals, the flames from their supply of oil leaping high into the night, refusing to be dampened by the rain.



Willow and Tara's carriage, along with the others from the Palace, slowly edged across the front of the opera house's steps, stopping in turn to let each group of guests alight. Tryptin and Galt, along with their attendant, were in the carriage just ahead of Willow and Tara, and had just disappeared inside as their carriage pulled up and Lissa quickly disembarked, holding out a hand to both women as they got out. They both took a moment to look around, struck by the scale of the gathering, as their carriage slowly pulled away. Aside from the guests and their coaches, the street before the opera house was teeming with spectators, presumably waiting to see the Duke and Duchess arrive, though there were excited murmurs from the crowd as each carriage drew to a halt and each group of opera-goers made their way inside.



"Which is that other flag?" Willow asked Lissa. Tara peered at the crowd, which was half-obscured in the evening beyond the light of the torches and lamps, noticing many, particularly the children were waving flags. There was the familiar red, with the lion of Duncraig, but many besides those were blue, with a single white stripe and an eagle's head as its crest.



"Kartand, Miss," Lissa explained, "the Duchess's old home. She's very popular with the people, particularly the citizenry, though she's well regarded by the nobility as well. They respect the Duke as a leader and statesman, but the Duchess has a special place in our hearts. The wedding was quite spectacular - I was just a girl then, but I remember being in the crowd and seeing them go past on their way back to the Palace."



"Did that have anything to do with working at the Palace?" Tara asked.



"Well, it might have," Lissa said, "it's an honour, of course, but it runs in the family as well. My mother was a lady-in-waiting back then, though not part of the party that served at the marriage. Now she's the deputy head of the Duke's household staff."



"Really?" Tara mused. "That's pretty high up, isn't it? She must have more influence than half the nobles here."



"It's a well-respected position," Lissa replied with a proud smile, "the head of the staff, Miss Valera Prederst, thinks highly of her, and says she'll ask that my mother replace her when she retires."



Willow listened in, while marvelling at the opera house as they neared the wide double doors. The façade was decorated more elaborately than any building she had ever seen, including the great opera house of Sallna in Entsteig, which was widely regarded as the most prestigious in the world. 'Looks like they'll have to lift their game,' she thought wryly, 'this place is making a good effort at outshining it.' She had just enough time to glance at a couple of the sculpted marble pieces decorating the stairs on either side, which she identified from their plaques as scenes from famous epics - Tal Rasha kneeling before the Archangel Tyrael, and the crowning of Mabus, the first king of Sescheron - before they were through the doors, and she was momentarily dazzled by the light.



The entrance chamber was a vast, wide hall running the full width of the opera house, decorated with rich silks and glittering gilded sculpture, huge paintings of great battles and triumphs in thick frames hanging from the walls, and lit by a dozen chandeliers suspended high above the heads of the guests. No fewer than a hundred people crowded the hall, probably more, each arrayed in dazzling finery, the men in dignified jackets and suits, the women in all manner of dresses, some elaborately archaic, some daringly modern, all exquisitely made. The murmur of dozens of conversations was overlaid by music from a quartet on a small stage between two of the ornate doors leading further into the building.



"Good choice," Tara smiled at Willow, "red seems to be the colour this year."



"I was just guessing," Willow admitted with a grin. Lissa excused herself to pick up a programme and directions to their seats for when the performance was called, and vanished into the crowd after a brief word to the doorman. Tara held out an arm, which Willow took, and they made their way slowly into the crowd, picking up their pace when they spotted Tryptin waving them over.



"Hello again ladies," he said, "I had a word with the doorman and he agreed you should be in the party meeting the Duke, seeing as you weren't with us when we arrived from the caravan. Technically you're the one in line for the meeting," he said to Tara, "but seeing as Miss Willow is your companion you can present her as well."



"Really?" Willow asked. "I don't think I was actually going to see the Duke originally, I'm just a student mage after all."



"Here's your chance," Tryptin grinned, "the Duke doesn't deal directly with the running of his Palace the way the Baron did at Kingsport, but I imagine he'll have been notified that you're studying with his mage, and probably your name would have come up while he was being briefed on the trouble to the south. I've found it never hurts to put a face to a name."



"Even a happily-married man won't forget your face in a hurry," Tara put in, smiling as Willow blushed. "How should I introduce us?" she asked Tryptin. "Um, our relationship, I mean..."



"'Companion' or 'partner'," Tryptin suggested, "the Duke's reputation is for broad-mindedness so long as it doesn't cause any harm to his realm. See there?" He pointed through the crowd, and Willow and Tara glanced at the man he was indicating, a tall, bearded man in robes much like Solaris and his crew had worn, only very much more expensive. Another man, fairer-skinned but similarly dressed, was by his side, and there were definite suggestions of intimacy in the way the pair stood close and spoke quietly to each other.



"Several traders from Aranoch have settled here and become very wealthy, and relations between men aren't uncommon there. Few people here speak out against it. As for women, the Duchess's niece, something of an adventuress I'm told, is reputed to pursue the more beautiful of the daughters of the nobility on the occasions she's in the city, and I don't believe there's ever been any strong complaint on that score."



"How do you find out all this stuff?" Willow asked.



"It's my job," he shrugged. "When the Amazon Nation chooses its allies, it looks to the nature of people first, and their strength of arms second. A small, reliable ally is far more valuable than a powerful one who dislikes our ways. I must say I'm pleased with what I'm finding here, a stable alliance with Westmarch could be a great benefit to us."



"How are the negotiations going?" Tara asked. "I have kind of been out of the loop, what with one thing or another." "Well, regretful though your difficult journey was," Tryptin said, "the circumstances leading to it have had some useful results. Joining our caravan with the Duncraig one was a stroke of luck in itself, and we made some good progress while we were on the road, but when we had to defend ourselves it did create a bond that otherwise would have taken some time to foster. The ambassadors aren't military men by profession, of course, but even so they're not oblivious to the effect of fighting side by side with others, in a common cause. After the ambush, they began to see us somewhat as partners, and the value of that in a negotiation can't be underestimated. In fact we've already achieved much of what we set out to do - our formal trading ties with the Dukedom are all but complete, and already I've got most of our emissaries pursuing their own projects in and around the city, on a purely mercantile basis. The diplomatic arrangements will take a little longer, but I think we and the Duke's people are developing a strong understanding of each other, and that's really what we're after. I'm considering a couple of excursions to settlements a few days' outside the city - safe territory - just to see what we might learn, and perhaps get a couple more agreements with the local governors and lords. Or trading contracts, you never know what might turn up."



"You'll be in line for a promotion when you get home," Tara observed, "on your first mission too."



"Well, I don't know if I'd go *that* far," Tryptin said with a bashful smile, "but definitely I've got nothing to complain about. I'll let you know if we decide to travel, of course, and you're welcome to come along - probably nowhere more than five days each way from the city. But I don't expect any of the lords we meet will be expecting a warrior, so if you'd rather stay here...?"



"I think I will," Tara said, "thank you, though."



"Did your attendant talk to the doorman?"



"I think so... yes, she did," Tara replied.



"She'll have been told you'll meet the Duke then," Tryptin nodded, "I imagine she'll be along to collect you for the line in a moment."



"Hey," Willow murmured, as Tryptin was momentarily distracted by a conversation going on beside them.



"What?" Tara asked.



"You're gorgeous," Willow said, squeezing her hand.



"I love you," Tara smiled, "and you are without a doubt the most beautiful woman here. Or anywhere," she added with a wink. Willow gave her a dazzling smile, but before they could talk more the quartet played a loud fanfare and the crowd fell relatively silent.



"This way Miss," Lissa said quietly, appearing behind Willow and Tara as if by magic. "Miss Willow, you should stand on Miss Tara's right side, half a step back, and come forward when she introduces you. Miss Tara, you just stand in line with the others." She led them towards the main doors, where a small queue of notable guests was assembling, with attendants fussing around them like tugboats.



"Do I curtsey, or what?" Willow asked in a whisper, as the level of conversation in the hall dropped.



"You can both bow," Lissa whispered, "just a little, not a low bow. Shake the Duke's hand if he offers - some of the ladies might kiss his hand, but you needn't, being a warrior and a mage. The Duchess will be with the Duke, the same applies to her."



"Thanks," Tara whispered as they reached their place in the line, and Lissa stepped back among the other attendants. There was a moment's pause, as everyone stood still, expectantly, then a pair of Palace guards came through the doors and took station on either side of them, resplendent in polished breastplates, with coloured sashes and feathered crests on their helmets. The line of nobility drew to attention as a group approached the door, then a cheer rose as the Duke stepped into the light of the hall, lifted a hand, and waved.



He was a tall middle-aged man, with a slight spread about his midsection but, for his age and station, a fairly lean figure, certainly no indication that he had left his active lifestyle behind in his youth. His hair, just beginning to turn grey, was closely-cut, and the hairline had begun to recede just enough to reveal a faint scar just above his left temple. His expression was cheerful, the man obviously looking forward to nothing more pressing than a night of entertainment, but there was still the suggestion of a keen intelligence beneath the jovial smile. He wore an immaculately tailored suit, with a sash over his chest bearing his coat of arms and a series of small bronze medallions. At his waist was a sword, its sheath and grip muted brown, unobtrusive among all the finery, yet to Tara's eyes a serviceable weapon, rather than purely ceremonial.



At his side, the Duchess was almost taller than her husband, with long blond hair left loose over her shoulders, clad in a dress not unlike Willow's, though sky blue, and with a more conservative cut, especially the back. She was not much younger than the Duke, but she had aged very well, and Tara had no trouble imagining the patriotic young men of the city admiring her for more than her character. Her figure was fit and elegant, and when she and her husband stepped forward to the first of the guests they would be greeting, she moved with considerable grace.



Seeing it would take a moment or two for the couple to make their way along the line to her, Tara glanced back to offer Willow a smile, catching her hand, then studied the Duke's entourage briefly. Behind the Duke, just to one side, was a man in an unassuming grey suit whose eyes never stopped moving, flickering across the faces of everyone nearby. 'Bodyguard, certainly,' Tara thought to herself. There was nothing remarkable about the man, but he had a certain air about him that Tara recognised from being around the veteran warriors at home, the sense that whatever was going on around him, he was aware of all of it, and would never be caught by surprise. There was also a servant by the Duke's side, quietly informing him who he was meeting when necessary, and a pair of guards behind the group.



On the other side, trailing behind the Duchess, was a younger woman who Tara immediately picked as the niece Tryptin had mentioned. The family resemblance between the two was obvious, despite perhaps twenty years separating them, but where the Duchess's beauty was refined, elegant and courtly, those same features were arranged slightly differently on her niece, giving her an impulsive, openly seductive look that, judging by her demeanour and wardrobe, she didn't regret one bit. Her attire was strikingly different from any other in the hall - she wore tight leather pants with boots rising half-way up her shins, and a loose red shirt with the top few buttons provocatively undone, displaying an admirable cleavage which she was obviously and justifiably proud of. Her hair was unbound, like her aunt's, though less immaculately straight, a little more untidy, which actually suited her well. Tryptin's description of her, 'an adventuress', was well-earned, at least on first impressions.



"Don't get any ideas," Tara whispered over her shoulder with a grin.



"I'm getting ideas all right," came Willow's quiet reply, "first clothes shop I see, I'm buying you a pair of those trousers." Tara chuckled softly, though at the same time she was very touched that Willow's first thought was of her, even in the face of such a brazenly attractive woman.



"Lady Tara, Amazon," the Duke's servant murmured, just on the edge of Tara's hearing range, and the man himself met her gaze and extended a hand to her. Tara took it, bowing gently at the same time.



"Well met," the Duke said as she straightened.



"Well met sir," Tara replied, turning side-on to allow Willow to come forward. "My partner, Willow of the Zann Esu." The Duke nodded as if in recognition, evidently remembering hearing of her in one of his briefings, and held out his hand.



"My wife, Lady Marindi," the Duke said after Willow had bowed and shook his hand. He stepped aside to make way for his wife, who curtseyed regally to Willow and Tara's bows. That done, the royal couple moved on to the next guest.



"Partner, Lady?" the Duchess's niece asked lightly, following in their wake.



"I'm spoken for," Tara said politely, with the easy-going smile on the woman's face comforting her that the situation wasn't going to turn uncomfortable.



"Damn," she said without rancour. She gave Willow a glance, and raised an eyebrow. "Damn on both counts. Ah well, enjoy the night, I'm sure you will." With a knowing smile she drifted away after the Duke and Duchess. Tara let out a breath and turned back to Willow, who was blushing and grinning at once.



"What?" Tara said, smiling despite herself.



"When you say 'my partner', or 'I'm spoken for'," she replied, "I get all... do you think a quick kiss is okay?"



"I doubt anyone would mind," Tara said, stepping closer to Willow, "particularly with Miss Wild over there hitting on everyone in sight." She shared a brief, fairly chaste kiss with Willow, and was afterwards unable to banish the grin from her face, at how exciting a brief, chaste kiss could be.



"Well, to be fair," Willow said, looking over Tara's shoulder, "she's not hitting on *everyone*... she's being quite discriminating, actually, though admittedly incredibly forward. Hey," she grinned, "it's nice to know we're hot enough for royalty, huh?"



"I never had any doubts of that for you," Tara replied with a smile.



(Continued...)

[Artemis]

(part 2 - chapter split because, once posts get up above a few pages, it seems Ezboard thinks it's funny to drop the connection repeatedly rather than, you know, work properly.)



-----



A few moments later, once the Duke had seen all the guests who were there to be seen, the opera house's staff rang small hand bells, signalling the opening of the opera hall for the evening's performance. The majority of the guests crowded their way through the several main doors leading to the stalls, but Lissa led Willow and Tara to the far end of the entrance hall, up a stairway to a corridor leading to the private boxes on that side of the building. From their vantage point half-way along the opera hall's left wall, the box angled towards the front, they had an excellent view of the stage and quite a lot of the hall besides, which was filling rapidly as people took their seats. The décor was, if anything, even more extravagant than the entrance hall, with the gilded columns and decorated wall panels overshadowed by a marvellously detailed relief on the ceiling, depicting gods and angels, the entire panoply of heaven, with a huge circular fixture in the centre of the ceiling studded with mirrored decorations, representing the Crystal Arch, supporting a massive chandelier lit with hundreds of thick candles.



Visible on the opposite wall, and presumably mirrored directly above Willow and Tara's box, more expansive galleries hosted entire parties of guests, but the lower level's boxes were quite compact, cosy even, and there were only two seats. These, though, were nearly adequate for two people each, to accommodate all manner of expansive dresses if necessary, and when Willow discovered that the armrests between the seats could be lifted up and out of the way she insisted that Lissa take her seat, rather than stand at the back of the box. With the armrest out of the way there was still enough room for Lissa to set the programme on the seat between herself and Willow, who nestled comfortably up beside Tara with an arm around her waist.



Once everyone was seated and the house staff had turned down the oil lamps, leaving the chandelier and stage lamps the only source of light, a man walked to the centre of the stage and gave a speech, introducing himself as the master of ceremonies, and the conductor in the orchestra pit before the stage, who stood and bowed on cue, and briefly wished the Duke and Duchess well on their anniversary, wished goodwill to the other guests as well, and promised no effort had been spared on the night's performance. With a bow to acknowledge the polite round of applause, he left the stage, and the great scarlet curtain shuddered and lifted.



The stage was decorated with shimmering curtains of white silk, framing a choir of women in plain white dresses, with silver thread wound into their hair that glittered as they sang. Their song was as ethereal and dazzling as their garb and surroundings, a soaring sequence of verses in old Imperial, first only a few voices, then more with each verse, until the whole choir was singing as one, almost a single voice. The applause when at last they reached a crescendo and the curtain dropped was sustained and enthusiastic.



"Traditional prelude from Khanduras," Willow noted, reading the programme, "representing the creation of the world of the stage, as a pale mirror of the true creation of all things. I've heard of that," she added, closing the programme, "there's a denomination of the Zakarum church in Khanduras who believe the Power That Is sang the world into being, and as each lesser power was created it joined the song."



When next the curtain lifted the silken clouds were gone, replaced by an amphitheatre of stone columns and blocks, painted so well they looked real, though they must have been wood. For the first time the orchestra struck up, drums dominating the melody, with strings supporting them. A troupe of black-skinned dancers dressed in tight, brightly-coloured fabrics wrapped around their torsos and trailing behind them appeared, their bodies moving as it powered by the drums, twirling and leaping in time to the rhythm. Two of them broke away from their groups, a bare-chested man in an emerald green loincloth and a woman with long black hair, wearing a single swathe of white cloth, starting around her neck, crossing over her chest, then around and down her back, circling her hips and then trailing loose around her legs as she danced. It wasn't obvious how her clothing was supporting itself, and with the energy with which she danced with her partner, spinning, leaping, stamping her feet and undulating her body, she seemed in constant danger of shedding her meagre covering altogether. The man kept his side of the dance equally eye-catching, every motion emphasising the sculpted shapes of his muscles and the powerful ease with which he moved. The mood they created was entirely appropriate to the music and the troupe's dance, which was primal, fierce, full of unashamed vitality and celebration.



"Quite stimulating, isn't it?" Tara murmured into Willow's ear. "In a tasteful way, of course."



"Mmm, tasteful," Willow whispered. Tara laughed quietly, kissed the top of her head, and went back to watching the dancers on stage.



The next act was another choir, this one mixed men and women, singing a purely musical piece with no lyrics. They appeared in front of the lowered curtain, keeping the audience enthralled with their harmonies. By the end of their song, when they left with a bow and the curtain was raised, the stage had been redressed again, as a jungle temple complete with vines snaking over the stonework, and a dozen unlit candles in brackets on the columns. A single fire bowl was burning in the middle of the stage, casting shuddering shadows over the exotic scene.



A single performer appeared from offstage, and a brief murmur from the audience signalled their interest. She was a cat woman, tall and athletic, with strong, curvy thighs and biceps. Her outfit consisted mainly of leather straps joined by shining gold buckles, winding about her limbs and body, strapped across the generous curves of her four breasts, around her thin waist, and between her legs, covering just enough for decency's sake. Tara glanced back along the boxes on the far wall, and chuckled to herself.



"What?" Willow whispered. Tara pointed up at the gallery where the Duke and his party were sitting, and Willow too stifled a chuckle at seeing the Duchess's niece leaning forward, her attention firmly fixed on the elegant figure on the stage.



"I wonder if the royal party gets to meet the artists after the show," Tara mused.



"Maybe," Willow murmured, "you know, according to the Order libraries, cat tribes tend to have a pretty casual sexual structure. If they decide they like someone, that's all the reason they need... maybe I won't be the only one getting lucky tonight?" She realised with a start that her whisper had become a little louder than she'd intended, and glanced quickly at Lissa, but she seemed absorbed in the programme.



"Well, good luck to her," Tara said, as Willow settled back into her arms, "but there's only one sexy lady I'm thinking about." She stroked her fingers up and down Willow's arm lazily.



"Uh-huh," Willow sighed, "and who might that be?" Tara chuckled to herself quietly.



"I think you know perfectly well who she might be," she replied in a whisper, "but I'll give you a clue: she's going to get very, very lucky tonight... not to mention into the small hours of the morning."



They both giggled quietly, then returned their attention to the stage as the cat woman bowed to a round of applause - a warrior's bow, from the waist and martial. She flexed her right hand and the black coil held there unfurled into a long, slender whip that she swung idly back and forth, building up speed in the tip as it circled her body. With her other hand she reached behind herself and from one of the straps around her drew an exotic weapon, like a dagger except that the blade split twice along its length, so that the weapon had three points, each aimed in a different direction, like a lethal star. All the blades were oiled, and glistened darkly.



With a sudden burst of movement she lifted the whip above her head and cracked it twice, in front and behind her, startling the crowd. With their full attention, she flicked her other wrist, sending the multi-bladed weapon spinning flat across the stage, through the flames from the fire bowl. The fire caught the oil on the blades, and then as the burning weapon spun away it pulled up in its flight, curved over and darted back towards its owner, who casually caught it behind her back and flipped it out again, this time towards one of the columns. It skimmed side-on past the column, lighting the candle - which had presumably had its wick soaked in oil from the ease with which it lit - before again curving around in flight behind the column. The moment the candle was lit the woman lashed out her whip, cracking the tip right on the newborn flame, snuffing it out with perfect precision as she caught her flying weapon again.



Within the space of a minute she had similarly lit and extinguished every one of the dozen candles in a similar manner, flinging her blade and whipping each flickering flame back out of existence as it flared. All the while she was swaying and strutting around the stage, and the longer she went on the more complex her motions became, until her skill with her weaponry was being combined with a truly athletic performance as a dancer. To gasps from the audience she backflipped, cartwheeled, spun over in mid air, all the while continuing to catch and release the flying blade, and striking out each flame with perfect timing. Now and then she tossed her whip into the air, freeing both hands as both her weapons flew, performing handstands and somersaults, and once blowing a kiss to the crowd, before reaching out almost casually to catch and strike with her whip, and flick her blade once again on a new arc. Her finale, which drew a chorus of gasps and thunderous applause, was to catch her whip in both hands, stretching it taut above her head, and pluck the spinning blade out of the air with her tail.



Willow and Tara, along with Lissa and most of the rest of the audience, rose to their feet to applaud, and the cat woman smiled broadly, revealing an impressive set of feline teeth, and bowed deeply and graciously. The curtain fell behind her, and she stayed for a moment, acknowledging the applause and gathering a few of the flowers that were tossed onto the stage for her, on either side where the stalls came close enough. A few hopeful admirers tossed flowers towards the centre of the stage, but they tended to fall short into the orchestra pit. Willow giggled at seeing a trombone player catch a rose in the horn of his instrument, and pointed him out to Tara.



When the cat woman finally took her last bow and departed, the master of ceremonies announced a brief interval, while the next set was prepared. Lissa departed to bring drinks for Willow and Tara, and at their insistence something for herself, leaving the pair alone in their box. Most of the other guests in the boxes, balconies and the stalls below remained in their seats, though some got up, either to fetch refreshments or simply to stretch their legs.



"Quite a night," Tara mused, cuddling Willow who took the opportunity to stretch her legs out across the seats and lie back against her.



"And it's not over yet," she replied, lazily stroking Tara's arm around her waist.



"That was quite a performance the cat lady put on."



"It was, wasn't it?" Willow agreed. "I remember reading somewhere that their warriors usually fight with whips, I guess it's no wonder they've gotten good at it. Javelins too, if I recall... I don't think I remember reading anything about flying blades, but you never know. In a lot of places they're not very trusted by humans, so they keep to themselves. There's probably a lot about them no-one knows."



"Like how she made her blade fly like that," Tara said, audibly impressed.



"I've seen weapons like that," Willow said, "not exactly the same, but similar, usually polished wood, carved in a special shape so that they glide, like an eagle's wing. There's tribes up and down the Argentek river that use them in various forms, they can throw them and they glide in a circle. I've never heard of a weapon that can change direction that sharply, though."



"It was almost like she was controlling it the whole time," Tara observed.



"She might have been," Willow said, "I'm sure it was mostly pure skill, but I wouldn't be surprised if there was a little magic involved. A lot of the non-human races have higher proportions of magical ability than humans do. That's one theory, anyway, though it's never been proven."



"No?"



"Well, it's tricky to measure," Willow explained with a vague wave of her hand, "for a start, cat people are the most human-friendly of the non-human races, and even they're pretty wary of humans in general. As opposed to a one-on-one basis," she added, "with individual people they're sometimes quite forthcoming, but on an official basis they tend to keep their distance. The histories say that a lot of work went into gaining the trust of the Kehjistan tribes before the Order could form proper ties with them, as a society. And aside from that, there's some people who think that a lot of humans, maybe all of us, have some magical ability, but either they never know to try to use it, or it's something that no-one's learned to use yet."



"Are there magics no-one's learned?" Tara asked.



"Could be," Willow said, "I mean, by definition no-one knows, but... well, take magnetics. There's a whole branch of magic that works by interaction with magnetic fields, and before people discovered them and started having a good look at how they worked, no-one knew they could be used for anything but picking up bits of iron."



"So it's anyone's guess what might come next?"



"Pretty much," Willow agreed, "it's an exciting time to be a mage." She giggled. "I just imagined that being on a recruitment poster. Be a mage! See the world! Set fire to bits of it... Seriously though, I'd bet real money that there's going to be some big breakthroughs in the next few years. Everything's been moving faster since the Reckoning - before that, it was all about the threat of the Prime Evils hanging over our heads, and even if you were a mage dedicated to research and theory, you spent a lot of time working purely with battle magic. Now the Prime Evils are gone, and we know we've got the power to handle it if one of the Lessers, or something else in the demon hierarchy, starts causing trouble... a lot of mages are starting to experiment with other fields, besides just making bigger and better fireballs."



Lissa returned with glasses of wine, which they sipped gently, though it turned out not to be very strong. Soon after the hall was full again, and the master of ceremonies announced the resumption of the performance with a preview of an opera being developed, which he said would begin in full in several weeks' time.



The curtain lifted, and the stage was a desert wasteland, stark and intimidating. The floor was covered in a painted cloth with sand strewn over it, creating a very realistic effect, and above it rose the remains of a temple, huge sandstone blocks and broken statues leaning over in partial ruin. A real stream flowed over one of the blocks, in a channel carved into it, trickling down its slanted side into a pool in the shadow of a great stone jackal's head, the remnant of some colossal statue, lying on its side in the sand. The backdrop was painted with fierce red clouds, as if war was raging in the heavens, and parts of it were slightly transparent, lit from behind by flickering flames that gave the impression of lightning rumbling through the heavy cloudbanks. Broken spears, smashed shields and shattered swords decorated the stage. The orchestra began a slow build, drums and strings quietly coming to life and rising almost imperceptibly, drawing the audience forward on their seats.



Red light flooded from a gap in the fallen stone blocks, silhouetting a figure standing in the doorway they created. He took a single step forward at the same time as hidden lamps in the ruins flared to life, revealing him. The audience gasped in shock, and with good reason. He was tall, broad-shouldered, clad in bronze armour than shone several shades darker than it should have, almost blood-red, decorated with savage patterns and symbols. A cloak flowed around him, black and glistening as if wet, and in one jagged gauntlet he held a great morningstar, with cruel barbs decorating its heavy, angular head. His skin was painted, metallic red to match his armour, and from his brow rose a pair of bone-white horns, the band holding them on concealed by his long, oily black hair. Behind him, mounted on a banner pole on his back, a tattered pennant fluttered in the breeze, scarlet marked with an inverted pentagram that looked as if it had been burned into the fabric, and decorated with dozens of tiny bones sewn into the edges.



Tara felt Willow recoil in shock, and tightened her hold protectively. It lasted only a moment, then she relaxed and glanced at Tara with a sheepish smile.



"Sorry," she whispered.



"Are you okay?" Tara whispered back, as the hellish figure walked slowly to the edge of the stage.



"Yeah," Willow grinned bashfully, "just, I guess once you've seen a pure demon up close... bad memories lurking around, that's all."



"You're sure?" Tara asked gently.



"I'm fine," Willow reassured her, "it was just the surprise. And hey, it's a pretty good costume," she added, the lively tone returning to her voice. Tara smiled and gave her a quick kiss.



"You make me feel safe," Willow whispered, gazing into her eyes, then she settled back in her arms and they watched the show.



"He's the Lord of Destruction," Willow explained quietly, as the terrible warrior began to sing in a deep, martial voice, in the Imperial tongue. "They must be doing an opera of the Sin Wars. He's saying how his army has been beaten down by the Horadric mages, but no mortal can defeat him. He's challenging Tal Rasha, the leader of the Horadrim, to fight him."



The Lord of Destruction's aria went on for some time, during which he strode around the ruined temple, shouting defiance and brandishing his morningstar. The effect of his elaborate costume, and the singer's deep, thundering voice filling the hall, accompanied by drums and strings, with horns punctuating his raging, was quite striking. At last he strode to the very front of the stage, bellowing his song into the audience, as if challenging them directly. His presence was so riveting that no-one noticed the second figure at the back of the stage, standing atop the ruins of the temple, until he began to sing, cutting off his adversary's voice in mid-note.



"Tal Rasha?" Tara asked quietly, and Willow nodded. He too was an impressive figure, clothed in grey robes with stark gold patterns on the edges, hood thrown back to reveal strong features and long blond hair, a glimmering white staff in one hand with a golden sunburst head. He sang a short rebuttal to his opponent's defiance, then the curtain fell just as he began to descend from his vantage point, gripping his staff firmly. The audience rose up in appreciation, and the Duke in particular looked notably impressed by the spectacle.



"Did Tal Rasha win?" Tara asked, in the pause before the next act begun.



"Yes, in the end," Willow said, "he defeated Baal, but with his dying breath Baal cast a spell to break the Soulstone that was going to imprison his spirit. Tal Rasha used a fragment of the stone to capture Baal momentarily, and drove it into his own chest to imprison Baal's spirit inside himself. He had the other Horadrim magically bind him to a monolith inside one of the great tombs, and then seal it completely. He fought Baal in his soul constantly for centuries, until the Reckoning when the other Prime Evils finally killed him and set Baal free."



"That's a hell of a sacrifice to make," Tara observed soberly.



"Tal Rasha had fought the campaign against Baal for his whole adult life," Willow said quietly, "he'd seen what the army of destruction did first hand... I guess he thought it was worth it, to put an end to it all."



"I remember you pointing out his statue on the Parliament building," Tara murmured. Willow nodded.



"He's revered as the greatest mage ever," she said. "If ever a person single-handedly saved the world, it was him."



The performance resumed with a troupe of acrobats, flipping and twirling through the air on ropes and trapezes, then another song, and then a short scene from the Akarat play Lissa had mentioned, in which the prophet's brother gave his life to defend him from assassins, while Akarat himself lay in a coma after a battle. Then came a gymnast, a slim woman who, with the aid of a mage standing discretely at the side of the stage, performed a complex dance while tiny sparkling stars trailed from her hands and feet. Finally a full choir performed with the accompaniment of the whole orchestra, in a great swell of music that filled the hall completely, and lifted the whole audience with it as it surged towards its climax.



"They'll clear the seats out of the stalls for a dance now," Lissa said, once the applause had died away and the guests had begun to leave their seats and make their way outside. "It's not a formal part of the evening, so you needn't stay if you'd rather go back to the Palace. Your carriage can be ready in a few moments whenever you decide to leave."



"Shall we dance?" Willow asked, holding out her arm to Tara.



"I think we shall," she replied with a smile, taking the offered arm and following Lissa down to the entrance hall, where they waited for the opera hall to be opened again. Most of the guests returned to the floor, where the Duke and Duchess began the first dance, quickly joined by dozens of other couples. Willow laid her head against Tara's shoulder as they danced slowly, holding each other close.



"Look over there," Tara said, in an amused tone. Willow followed Tara's gaze over her shoulder, to see the Duchess's niece dancing, intimately close, with the cat woman who had performed earlier.



"Heh," she chuckled, "looks like she rarely misses out on something she wants." She looked adoringly at Tara. "Must have been a rare disappointment to her not to sweep you off your feet when she saw you."



"Or you," Tara replied, "I doubt it though. If she's as experienced as Tryptin said, she's probably good at spotting when she hasn't got a chance. I'm a one-woman Amazon... and that one woman is you." She leaned close and tasted Willow's lips in a kiss that lasted a decidedly long time, especially considering they were in the middle of a crowded dance floor.



"You wanna head back to the Palace?" Willow offered.



"Yeah," Tara agreed, "I think we can dance better in private."



-----



"Now then," Tara purred as she closed the bedroom door behind herself and Willow, "may I have the pleasure of sliding you out of that gorgeous dress?"



"You don't even have to ask," Willow said giddily, turning in Tara's embrace and kissing her. "Mmm, wow... and not before time either, the longer I see the luscious sexiness that is you in that outfit... I was worried I was going to start drooling in the carriage."



"Don't worry," Tara smiled, kissing Willow again and steering her over to the bed, "I'm sure Lissa didn't notice you vividly imagining tearing my dress off and making love to me right then and there."



"How did you know that's what I was imagining?" Willow grinned, sitting down.



"It's what I was imagining," Tara replied, crouching down in front of her and removing her sandals.



"We're bad, bad girls," Willow laughed, leaning back on her arms.



"But now we're thinking of making love in a carriage, rather than a wagon," Tara pointed out, "we're moving up in the world." She straightened up and gently kicked off her boots, while Willow slowly stood and reached behind her neck to undo the straps holding her dress up. With a sigh and a delicious wriggle of her hips it slid down around her ankles, leaving Tara staring at her, totally nude.



"Now just remember how I was cuddling up against you all night," Willow teased, "and not wearing anything but a dash of perfume under my dress."



"I had a fairly good idea anyway," Tara murmured, putting her arms around Willow's waist and drawing her close.



"Oh, you did?"



"Either that, or you had magic underwear that doesn't show up at all under a skin-tight dress like that... knowing you, I figured it was the former."



"You know me so well," Willow grinned.



"Care to unlace me?" Tara offered.



"Would I?" Willow asked incredulously. "Goddess baby, I've hardly thought of anything else since I saw you in this dress."



"Not all at once," Tara said as Willow's hands went to work on the laces at the front of her dress, "I've got a treat for you."



"You *are* a treat for me," Willow chuckled to herself, finishing undoing the laces and sliding her hands over Tara's body as the dress slipped from her shoulders and crumpled to the floor, leaving her clad only in her black bustier and wispy black silk underwear.



"Go get your pipes," Tara murmured.



"Huh?"



"Play me a dance," she purred. Willow grinned and quickly rummaged through her satchels, while Tara picked up the two dresses and laid them out of the way over the top of the chest of drawers. Willow returned with her set of pipes, and Tara sat her down on the bed and stood in front of her.



"Play?" she invited.



"What kind of dance?" Willow asked.



"You play, I'll dance," Tara smiled, "any kind you want."



With a playful grin Willow raised the pipes to her lips and began to play a simple melody, letting Tara ease into the rhythm. She watched entranced as her lover swayed in front of her, gently back and forth like a reed in the ocean. As Willow added more notes, more complexity to her melody, so Tara danced more for her, spinning around, raising her arms above her head, always staying to the rhythm, as if Willow were playing her like a snake-charmer.



Fixing her with a seductive stare, still swaying to the music, Tara began undoing the laces on her bustier, letting it fall looser and looser until it opened and her breasts spilled lavishly out of their confinement. She pulled the last laces free and let the bustier fall behind her, and Willow began to find it difficult to concentrate hard enough to play the pipes, watching Tara sway back and forth, running her hands up and down her front, cupping her breasts and letting them fall free.



Rallying her scattered thoughts, Willow began to change her melody, playing a stronger, faster rhythm, remembering the dancers they had seen earlier. Tara recognised the music too, and began working in the same kinds of moves they had used, fast twirls, stamping her feet for emphasis, making her whole body shudder. Willow's breathing became erratic, and she absently dropped the pipes, but still Tara danced, her motions providing all the rhythm either of them needed to hear the drums thundering in their minds. Willow's hands flattened against her thighs, fingers pressing into her skin, as she unconsciously shifted to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs for balance. Tara came closer, dancing right in front of her, inches away from her wide, lustful eyes. Her motions suggested a rising crescendo, coming faster, more frantic, and Willow found herself caught up in it, breathing quickly, desperate to see the final moment of the dance. In one quick motion Tara leaned down between Willow's spread thighs and pressed her tongue firmly against her sex, licking up over her clit, her mound, her stomach as she fell back on the bed in delight, her cleavage, up her neck and beneath her chin. Quick as a flash she was straddling Willow, and then they were still, motionless and breathless, Willow lying back, Tara above her, less than an inch separating their faces, Tara's heaving breaths teasing Willow's lips.



"Want?" Tara panted.



"Want," Willow replied at once.



"Yours."

[JustSkipIt]

Hi Chris,

Wonderful job. You do a great job here of setting the tone and describing the entire environment and the performance. It sounds like a great time for everyone and Tara's performance at the end was just lovely and fit in well.



I had been wondering about the girls's position at the castle when the Amazon group leaves. Obviously Willow has a lower position than Tara, given that she's basically a respected student. So when the other Amazons leave, will W&T have to take another residence? Or will they retain the hospitality of the Duke as long as Tara wants to stay?



Great job! Debra

---

"Your little will can't do anything. It takes Great Determination. Great Determination doesn't mean just you making an effort. It means the whole universe is behind you and with you - the birds, trees, sky, moon, and ten directions." - Katagiri Roshi

[justin]

I've been rather remiss in leaving feedback lately but I've really enjoyed these last few chapters.



When Tryptin mentioned the Dukes daughter, and how she liked women and was an adventuress, I wondered if she was going to be your version of Faith. Of course when she turned up at the Opera wearing leather trousers, it confirmed it



The opera certainly sounded interesting. I'm sure there's nothing like that in Madame Butterfly.



I'm looking forward to more

Postel's Prescription: Be generous in what you accept, rigorous in what you emit.

[thesongwriter]

WOOO and HOOO!!!



well done work, chris!

the monumental impression of the opera house and the behavior of the audience before and during the performance are well captured.

and especially the music and artistic parts of the opera scene are... ! you described the moods of the arias and the interplay of choir / soloists with/and/or the orchestra wonderfully!



and willow and tara are, like always, sweeeet!



can't wait for the next chapter!!!



bb sam

[WillowPowered]

Good God



Jill

~~~~~~~~

Willow - Say, you all didn't happen to do a bunch of drugs did ya?



My Home Page | Amber Powered



“Bite me” - the general, all-purpose response suitable for all occasions.

[Arwen276]

OH MY!

THAT WAS SO HOT!!

I'm so sorry to just skip to the last part... but...but...WOW!

I had no idea they'd be 'replaying' the Opera's performances...

It was so sexy!! and that's an understatement!



I have to agree with Justin, about the striking resemblance to Faith! I was worried for a moment that it was going to be "want, take, have" with either Tara or Willow!



The whole performance was greatly depicted, I really felt like I was there...but then again it's the general feeling you generate in this fic, you really take us there!



I loved the last line "want?" "yours"



Bravo!



~Arwen

Hear That Baby? You're My Always... Willow

[sabina]

Hi



I'm a little late with the feedback... again... Sorry... It's just that lately the day doesn't seem to have enough hours for me to do everything that I need to do...



This was a great chapter I loved your description of the opera and of all the performances.

Just like Arwen I was a little worried when the duchess niece appeared that it would be "want, take, have" with one of our girls, which would probably lead to a blood bath...

I was glad to see that the Duchess niece knows how to chose her battles well



I'm really curious to see what will happen next

---

"I know I was born and I know that I'll die.

The in between is mine.

I am mine!" - Pearl Jam

[Puff]

The opera sounded impressive, I love all of the description that you include. It's so nice to read about Willow and Tara getting out and doing relaxing things. I like Lissa as well and I think she is a great character was she someone in the game or and Artemis original?



Great update

---

So, the day started and I knew my name and had my pants on. So far, so good. Yay.
Amber Benson

[Grimlock72]

Now why do I get the distinct impression Tryptin is setting the girls up in this town as much as he can ?



Very elaborate descriptions of the places and events indeed, but they didn't bore me. That by itself is a near miracle 'cos I am rather impatient at reading "scenery" . I tend to feel sorry for Lisse on the basis that she's a servant, yet she doesn't seem to too much of a horrible life. Good thing Willow and Tara insisted on taking a bit care of Lisse, I liked that.



The seating of Willow and Tara in their box was a bit confusing, I figured out that Willow wanted to sit close to Tara... easy enough . And somehow Lisse got to sit too, which is a Good Thing. Poor Willow got frightened by the opera... which Tara fixed by simply being close.. that was sweet. Hardly usefull to go the entire opera, Willow has spoiled the entire story already :-)



Grimmy

--
"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[chilled monkey]

Very good description of the opera. I am particularly intrigued by the catwoman's throwing weapon. It reminds me of the glaive in Blade and Blade 2.



I am also interested by Faith's appearance. Will she be showing up later?



Willow and Tara dancing is always nice. It's good that the people of Duncraig are open-minded.

[Artemis]

Thanks everyone The next chapter is well underway - this week has so far been free of other projects or distractions - and I expect to post it tomorrow evening (evening Sydney time, whatever that means for the rest of the world).



One question I'll answer generally, seeing as several people have wondered it - the Duchess's niece isn't Faith. I know, leather pants, but no-one's invented jeans yet, so leather pants are pretty much standard for anyone with an active lifestyle in a cool climate. Anyway, she'll be appearing again once or twice, including finding out her name, so you can be reassured that no-one's going to make a 'want take have' attempt on our girls The niece's attitude, in this case, is more 'want, can't have, oh well, next'. Not that she's shallow, she's just a free spirit with a great appreciation for women in general. She's never left anyone unhappy, at any rate, and she's really quite sweet, just emphatically not the settle-down type. On a purely physical level, I kind of have Jeri Ryan in mind.



Faith does exist in Sanctuary, though. She'll show up in the sequel



Debra: Thank you About their residence, Tara got the Princess Suite because of the high priority the Duke's diplomatic staff put on keeping the representative of the Amazon warrior class happy. They're well-educated, of course, but they've still got slightly exaggerated ideas about Amazon warriors and their code of honour, and the potential cost of doing something that might make them feel offended. They were probably imagining someone a lot more strict and martial than Tara. Willow was to stay in a guest room nearer the mage tower. All the guest rooms are quite comfortable, and would house two people (especially those as amenable to sharing space as our girls) quite adequately. Duncraig Palace is pretty vast, and they're not short of space or spare rooms.



As for when the other Amazons leave and Tara stays, that depends on the Duke's staff. Tara would no longer be part of a diplomatic mission, but (especially as they would like to retain the friendship of the Amazons in general) she would still be treated as an honoured guest. Of course, 'honoured guest' doesn't necessarily qualify one for the best guest room in the Palace - but the flip side to that is that the Princess Suite is rarely used, and unless another very notable dignitary turns up, they wouldn't *have* to move Willow and Tara out just to free up the room. In either case, they'd still be housed in the Palace - the whole point of having such an expansive place is to house and impress as many guests as possible, so that everyone thinks well of Duncraig.



justin: It's funny, I honestly didn't realise the niece would suggest Faith - that was pure coincidence Not knowing opera much (Midsummer Night's Dream and Hansel & Gretel are about the extent of it for me), but having a vague idea of the rest of it, I actually wouldn't be surprised if the Sin Wars opera was quite similar in many respects to some real ones. There's lots of treachery, betrayal, revenge, and almost everyone dies at the end. Sounds operatic to me (Well, either that or Shakespeare.)



Sam: Thanks I've been vaguely collecting ideas for that performance for a while now. Like I say, opera's not my specialty, so I tried for a bit of everything. Sort of a very classy vaudeville But on the artistic side, I was really just winging it. I did have an ulterior motive, though, for including the cat woman and mentioning the feline prowess with whips in general (in combat, for those of you sniggering) - I'm sure they'll appear in the sequel, so a bit of set-up seemed in order.



Jill: Yay That's the kind of reaction I love seeing.



Arwen: The Faith-resemblance wasn't that striking, was it? ... I just looked over that passage, and realised what it was - I said she had a strong resemblance to the Duchess, but forgot to mention that extended to her blonde hair. D'oh! I'd had the idea of Tara doing a sexy dance for Willow for some time, though it was comparatively late in the process that I realised it should be a follow-on to the performance at the opera house. I know I said it was tribal-inspired, but given Tara was in her tiny silky underwear and bustier, I couldn't help thinking of her doing Velma's dance at the end of the cell block tango from Chicago



Sabina: Thanks Yup, she knows to choose her battles - in this case, no point pursuing someone who's not interested, when she could be off finding someone who is. Given the niece's beauty, fun-loving nature, and her artistocratic heritage is a bonus in the eyes of a lot of admirers, she's never short of would-be companions. She knows how to choose her battles in the literal sense, too - she's not an 'adventurer' in the 'wears leather and pretends to know how to use a sword' sense, she's actually a bit of a free-roaming paladin, always ready to leap to the defence of a good cause. She's spent her fair share of time fighting demons and monsters in some of the rougher parts of Westmarch.



Puff: No, Lissa's just someone I made up. The Diablo games happened far away from Westmarch, and Lissa's family has lived in Duncraig for generations - plus she's still in her late teens, so she hadn't even been born when the Prime Evils were stomping around trying to restart the Sin Wars. She's sort of a product of my usual desire to have minor characters seem 'real' by giving them more background than they need, and an over-active imagination - there's a lot of background to Lissa, and Jesye, in case I ever decide to use it.



Grimlock: Yeah, Tryptin's a sweetie It's diplomatically valuable too, though - he knows Tara will do a good job at teaching the Duncraig archers, and one of the generals will probably mention it to the Duke at some point, and he in turn will be glad that Duncraig and the Amazon Nation are on good terms.



Lissa's place in the scheme of things isn't too bad. She is a servant, yes, but that's more a profession than a class nowadays in Duncraig. And as she hinted, 'servants' can rise pretty high - the head of the Duke's household staff is probably, in a behind-the-scenes way, one of the most powerful people in Duncraig. It's not always an easy job - though Willow and Tara are good charges for a servant to have - but it's not particularly rough either, and a servant in Lissa's position, attending on a very important guest, is pretty decently rewarded for the high class of service she provides.



I guess I should have taken more care describing the seating. Basically, it was a long couch divided into two seats by an armrest, each side being pretty wide, to accomodate those big dresses that are sometimes in fashion. Willow discovered she could move the armrest up (like the seats you get in cinemas nowadays, which was actually what gave me the idea), so she moved over and cuddled up to Tara, which left plenty of room for Lissa to sit in the 80% Willow's seat that was unoccupied. I think they deliberately designed the box seats in the opera house so couples can snuggle



The details of the Sin War are a bit hazy to most Amazons - it was before they existed as a group - but most people in Westmarch and the other western kingdoms, particularly the wealthy and artistocratic who would frequent the opera, would know it in detail. Besides, everyone knows the plot of real operas, and they still go.



chilled monkey: That weapon the cat woman used is a real one, my history of weaponry book (I can't remember why I bought it, but it comes in handy all the time) has a couple of variants, from India and Africa. One was used in Xena as well, forged from the metal of Hephastos, which I assume is why it could fly controlled, like Xena's chakram. The real ones don't do that, so far as I know. (The episode, I think, was 'The Dirty Half-Dozen').



The people of Duncraig are open-minded largely due to the fact that they're making money, and the more people they welcome into the city, the more money they seem to make. Handy for our girls



Anyway, thanks again to you all, and the next chapter will be along tomorrow.

[Artemis]

Hellebore



Author: Chris Cook

Rating: NC-17

Summary: A headstrong sorceress and a young Amazon join forces to locate and destroy an ancient source of demonic power.

Spoilers: None.

Copyright: Based on characters from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and 'Diablo II' by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.

Feedback: Please. Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au



Note: Just in case anyone's feeling a bit blase about the NC-17 rating, I'll just mention that this chapter also carries a 'toy warning'.



Other Note: Yet another Special Surprise - may I present Willow and Tara's room in the Duncraig Palace, or at least a close approximation thereof: home.swiftdsl.com.au/~ott...llroom.htm (Sub-note: this isn't exact, just the best I could manage, so it's not accurate to every little detail.)



--

Chapter Fifty-Two

--



Tara blinked lazily as she woke up, then moaned at the wonderful sensation emanating from her breasts. With some effort, she managed to open her eyes all the way, and glanced down to see Willow nibbling on her left nipple, while her hand kept the other from feeling left out.



"Morning," Willow grinned in between licks.



"Mmmmorning," Tara managed, "a-are you... trying to give me... sexy dreams... again...?"



"Maybe," Willow admitted with a smile, moving slightly to settle her head on Tara's shoulder, as her free hand took the place of her lips. "Did it work?"



"Oh, baby," Tara sighed, "like you wouldn't believe." Willow's smile broadened with pride.



"You were sleeping so soundly," she said, "I thought, given you'd have to wake up anyway, you'd appreciate it being something worth waking up for."



"You don't have to do anything to be worth waking up for," Tara said fondly, "but, seeing as you did... that feels soooo beautiful..."



"Your dance must've tired you out," Willow quipped, "but hey, no complaints here, you're amazing. Did you ever do any of those Amazon ritual dances?"



"Not formally," Tara murmured, as Willow continued to gently stroke her breasts, teasing the nipples, "but... ah... some of the trainees... used to arrange performances in their free time... just for fun... I sometimes joined in... it turned out not to... mmm... be so difficult... a lot like practising with a spear... just learning the motions..."



"Did you ever consider joining a troupe?" Willow joked.



"Nah," Tara shook her head, "I think I've found my preferred style of dance... intimate performances, for an audience of one. That way I can go into the second half of my act."



"Which is?"



"The waltz, for two," Tara grinned.



"Best dance I've ever had," Willow laughed. "Oh, there's a letter for you from the army, the seal says it's from the training office."



"Just a formality," Tara said, "the General said he'd get it to me in writing, but he already told me what days I'd be instructing the archers. You've been up and about already?"



"Like I said, you were sleeping pretty soundly. I got the mail, and breakfast." Tara glanced over to the table, where a covered platter was waiting.



"Oh baby," she smiled at Willow, "you're so good to me."



"I do my best," Willow murmured, leaning down to teasingly lick at Tara's cleavage.



"Couldn't possibly be better," Tara sighed. "Anything else you got done while I was being a lazy Amazon?"



"Our dresses are headed down to the laundry," Willow said, "and I got a couple of replies to the letters I sent out. One from a mage's apprentice saying his mistress is travelling, but she'll be in touch when she gets back in a few weeks. The other from a mage with a workshop down near the river, saying to drop by some afternoon to get acquainted and see what we can work out. Actually I remember the letter that went to him, it was from Ember herself, rather than a formal one from the Order."



"An old friend of hers?" Tara wondered, stroking her hand up and down Willow's back.



"Probably," Willow agreed, wriggling enticingly, "if nothing urgent comes up today with Myrreon, I thought I'd go see him tomorrow afternoon."



"I've got instructing duties today and tomorrow," Tara said, "do you think you could manage a day off after that?"



"I definitely could," Willow grinned, "have you got something in mind?"



"Nothing yet," Tara replied lightly, "maybe we could visit Amalee, do some shopping... it's a big city, I'm sure there's more than enough to do. And of course," she grinned seductively, "there's a certain appeal to being able to stay in bed all morning."



"There is at that," Willow nodded. "Speaking of which, we should probably be getting up right about now, but then again I'm kind of leading somewhere with all this," she licked Tara's cleavage again, and gave her breasts a squeeze. "Do you think you and your luscious breasts might join me in the shower?" Tara laughed loudly, which in turn caused her to shudder in Willow's grip.



"My luscious breasts and I would be delighted," she giggled.



-----



Tara watched a volley of arrows fly, and mostly hit near the bullseyes they were aimed at. None missed the targets completely, which was unsurprising. General Murine had told her, both in his letter and then when Tara had arrived at the barracks, that she would be working with trained archers initially. Depending on how she did, the General would either add her to the roster of instructors who worked with new recruits, or, if she proved able to improve the abilities of trained men, keep her with the soldiers, and perhaps see if she could pass on some of her skills to the army's own archery instructors at the same time.



Her first session seemed to be going well. She had been hesitant at first, especially on seeing her 'students', three dozen soldiers who according to the General had already completed a six month tour of duty. Her worries about whether they would even listen to her were quickly put to rest by Sergeant Sheerson, a lean tower of a man who informed the troops, in a booming voice, that they would not show the slightest disrespect to Lady Tara, that they would do exactly as she told them, and that they would treat every word she said as if it had come from the Power That Is herself. That got her through the introductory stages without any difficulties, and once the soldiers saw her demonstrate her abilities, she was confident that they respected her, archer to archer.



As for being able to teach them anything, as the morning session wore on Tara was more confident about achieving good results. To a man they were good archers, with steady aim and good arms. Tara found that this actually helped her - when she explained and demonstrated Amazon techniques, they were able to understand quickly, and their training allowed them to put what they learned into practice, and see the results. The General watched the first hour of the session from the side of the range, then departed to attend to other business after giving Tara an encouraging nod.



She called a halt and told the men to retrieve their arrows and line up for another round. They were working on snap shots - firing accurately without preparation time - which was a skill that she felt the Duncraig instructors had undervalued somewhat. It was natural, she supposed, to concentrate on accuracy at range, given that the most likely battleground in Westmarch was an open plain, rather than the dense jungles of the Amazon Isles. The soldiers, however, had seen battle to varying degrees, and had learned the hard way that nothing in battle goes to plan. Some of them had already taken it upon themselves to practice drawing and firing in one motion, and all of them were eager to learn more.



Tara stood at the practice line and fired with the soldiers, doing exactly as she had taught them - facing sideways, bow held down, arrow in hand, opening her eyes, turning and nocking her arrow as she lifted the bow, letting the string loose the moment the arrow was pointed towards the target. She had felt awkward when she had first been taught the technique, so she had worked extra hard on it, and it paid off - by the time she was fifteen she had been able to bullseye a target the moment her eye fell on it. The soldiers had a lot to learn, but showed promise, and they were slowing slightly to get used to the action, rather than trying to match her speed and making mistakes in the process. Solari had always taught the same thing: 'Don't try to do it perfectly first time. Just try to do it okay, and work from there.'



After each man had fired ten arrows at his target Tara called a halt, and once the arrows had been collected she dismissed them for lunch. She felt a sense of accomplishment when she noticed how many of them spared her a wave or a word of thanks before they headed back to the armoury to stow their weapons. 'This might work after all,' she smiled to herself.



For her own part, she was looking forward to lunch for more than the chance of a cool drink and something to fill her stomach. Before Tara had left their room for the barracks, Willow had asked if she got time off for lunch, and when Tara said she did, asked her to be at the gate to the Palace gardens at midday. Seeing the anticipatory grin on Willow's face, she didn't ask why - curiosity had plagued her during the short walk to the barracks, but the instructing had kept her mind busy, and besides, she knew it would be a good surprise. The gardens, on the northwest side of the Palace, were only a couple of blocks from the barracks, and Tara covered the distance quickly.



Willow was standing by the gates - huge old wooden doors, and a portcullis that looked like it hadn't been used in some time - and gave Tara a gleeful wave when she spied her across the street. Tara gave an answering wave and quickly crossed. Willow jogged forward a few steps to meet her, draping one arm around her waist and leaning in to kiss her. In her other hand she was holding a basket covered by a cloth, which Tara looked at, then raised a questioning eyebrow at Willow as they parted.



"What've you got there?" she asked.



"Patience," Willow smiled.



"Patience?" Tara teased. "This from the same Willow who gets over-excited at the tiniest little things?"



"For the record," Willow said mock-haughtily, "you've never seen me over-excited, the reason being, I'm with you, and you're worth all the excitement I can muster. Thanks," she said to the lone Palace guard standing at the gates, who nodded to allow them to pass.



"I will grant you," Willow went on, linking arms with Tara as the walked through the stone archway, "I get more visibly excited than most people. But I'm not most people, am I?"



"No you're not," Tara agreed, lifting Willow's hand to her lips, "you're my Willow." She gave her palm a gentle kiss. "And I love you, just the way you are."



"I love you too," Willow said warmly, "even more than I love being your Willow - and you know, I love being your Willow a *lot*."



"You've certainly never given me cause to doubt it," Tara said.



"Good," Willow nodded, "me neither, my beautiful Tara. Now come on, this way."



Willow led Tara into the gardens, a sculpted piece of nature in the heart of the city. Tara knew the land extended right up to the river to the north, though she couldn't see that far - the road from the gate curved away in the other direction, towards the Palace, and apart from that there were lush green trees and bushes as far as she could see, with gravel paths lined with painted rocks winding their way in and out. Birdsong was in the air, the sounds of the city were quite muffled by the high stone wall - it was tranquil and inviting as paradise, and reminded Tara of home, of the green lands down by the lake, where she imagined herself and Willow living one day.



Willow led them down one of the paths, past exotic flowers, and beneath the shade of leafy trees stretching their boughs over little lawns of soft, verdant grass. They came to an avenue through the small forest, wide enough for a small coach, lined on either side with ornate oil lamps, statues dotted here and there, and twin rows of bushes that were blooming with hundreds of tiny white flowers.



"It's just up ahead," Willow said mysteriously. Tara had already guessed, just from her choice of setting, that Willow had planned a picnic, but held her tongue, looking forward to seeing just what she had prepared, and the spot she had chosen. They followed the avenue some way, then Willow took a turn off to the other side, leading Tara along a narrow path between shrubs and bushes, with venerable old trees stretching their branches high above.



"Here," Willow said, letting Tara walk in front of her. She emerged from between two tall bushes into a tiny clearing, outlined by the trunks of some low trees, their branches intertwining to filter the sunlight from above into a soft pattern of light and shade. The grass was tall and soft, dotted with tiny flowers, blooms of rich red and gold and white and sky blue all over. A blanket had been laid out, with cushions spread at its edge, and at the centre a wood-covered metal ice bucket, with a bottle of wine, and two crystal glasses next to it. An unassuming statue of a woman in a robe stood just at the edge of the bushes, holding a dish, a bird-bath, kept full of water by a tiny brass spout bubbling merrily to itself. The trees enclosed the clearing on three sides - on the far side from Tara was the shore to a sparkling lake, with ducks paddling about, and not far off a little island, covered in long grass, reeds where it met the lake, and a pair of trees in the centre, short with wide branches.



"Willow..." Tara said, searching for the words to express what she felt.



"You like?" Willow said with a radiant smile, taking her arm again and leading her to the cushions, where they both say down.



"Beautiful," Tara sighed, "just... totally beautiful."



"Nothing's too good for my Tara," Willow said with a shy smile, setting the basket and her satchel down on the blanket. She reached for the wine and poured some into both glasses, handing one to Tara.



"It's light spring wine," she said, "just a couple of glasses won't affect your aim at all, so don't worry about this afternoon."



"You think of everything," Tara smiled. She settled back on her cushions and looked at Willow, who was smiling fondly at her.



"You know," Willow said, keeping her gaze, "it's been twenty-five days now since we met. Which isn't really a set moment that you'd normally celebrate, but hey, why not... In the past twenty-five days I've had a demon nearly summoned right in front of me by a psychotic mage, I've had Carvers attack me, I've found out that same demon has a massive grudge against me, I've come this close to being captured by yet another psychotic mage, I've had the wits frightened out of me by something going 'bump' in the night, I've walked across miles of wilderness with all sorts of nasty things chasing me, and I've been surrounded by a whole clan of goat-men and fought their truly massive leader - but you know what?" She settled back, still staring into Tara's gaze. "They've been the best twenty-five days of my life, and I wouldn't swap them for anything."



"Me neither," Tara said, "and in my case, you can add 'got shot at' and 'got clawed by a zombie' to that list." She was pleased that Willow laughed - the bad memories were only memories. "There's nowhere I wouldn't go with you," she went on, "nothing I wouldn't face to stay with you. I love you... I love the person I've become by being in love with you." Willow's expression was pure joy.



"Twenty-five days," she said in a voice thick with emotion. She raised her glass. "To many more."



"A lifetime's worth," Tara agreed, touching her glass to Willow's before taking a mouthful.



"Mmm," she murmured, "sweet."



"Yeah," Willow said, setting her glass down carefully before leaning over to kiss Tara, slowly and thoroughly. Tara struggled just to keep from dropping her glass, overcome by the intense sensations of Willow's mouth on hers, her tongue touching her lips, gently moving inside, the taste of her, and the wine on her lips, the soft press of Willow's hands as she drew her into an embrace, the jolt of desire that rocked through her as Willow's leg nudged up against hers.



"Here," Willow whispered, taking Tara's glass, "let me get that for you." Never moving from Tara's side, she drained what was left in her glass, then kissed her again, sealing their lips together. Tara tasted the wine, and licked eagerly at Willow's tongue, moaning into her mouth as the sweet liquid flowed between them.



Without consciously realising it, Tara found her right hand had worked the waist of Willow's skirt down to caress her hip; her other hand had pulled free the hem of her tunic and slipped beneath it, against Willow's back; Willow's hand was on her thigh, beneath her short leather skirt. Smiling devilishly as Willow paused in her kissing, she pulled her astride her thigh.



"Ooh," Willow purred, "so it's not just me feeling frisky?"



"Never," Tara murmured, "anytime I'm around you - especially when you do something this beautifully loving - you know it just makes me want you like nothing else." Willow grinned and pressed kisses onto Tara's neck and shoulder.



"Mmm, lovely," Tara sighed, "see? Completely robbed of... common sense... rational thinking... just want to love you..."



"I hope you're not expecting me curb your amorous tendencies," Willow warned, "because from where I'm lying, I don't see a problem." She worked her way back up to brush her lips across Tara's, her tongue sneaking out to lick at her moist lips, and slowly thrust her hips against Tara's leg, her thigh slipping between Tara's at the same time.



"Nope, no problem at all," she whispered, as Tara's hands tugged gently on her skirt, finding the tie at her waist and undoing it. As Tara slid the material off her, Willow kissed her way back down her neck to nuzzle in her cleavage, while her hand not around Tara holding her tightly lifted her skirt up around her waist. There was a brief pause while both women wriggled out of their underwear, then Willow lay down against Tara, each feeling the other's moist warmth on her bare thigh.



"Ooooh," they moaned simultaneously. Neither could resist a small giggle at that, then Tara's hand around Willow's waist urged her to press forward, while her other hand wound into her hair and brought her to her lips to taste her again. Willow moaned openly into the kiss, allowing Tara complete access to her, the elation of her lover's exploration of her mouth joining the building desire emanating from her core as they began a rhythm of pressing and moving against one another.



"I've been thinking about this..." Tara sighed, "you... all day..."



"Me too," Willow breathed, "oh gods... my goddess... you're so hot..."



"Mmm," Tara murmured into Willow's ear, "feel that... on your skin... wet... just like I can feel you, baby..." Her breathing, and Willow's, was becoming rougher, more desperate, as their rocking motions pressed their clits and glistening folds against each other's thighs.



"Oh god-dess ye-es," Willow whispered in a halting voice, "yes... oh yesss... feel... me..."



"I... ahhh... can," Tara purred, "I can... feel... y-you... a-as if it... it were me... goddess... come..."



"Mmmm!" Willow bit her lip to keep from crying out, instead giving voice to a high-pitched moan of ecstasy as her sex clenched and gushed her delight. Tara was close, so close that the mere feeling of Willow's juices gracing her skin sparked the quaking climax building inside her. She held Willow to her, one arm around her shoulders, the other her hips, holding them against her own, keeping their sexes tightly pressed against skin that now glowed with the other's arousal. Every shudder, every sigh as they recovered from climax was passed through touch to the other, sharing everything.



"Oh gods," Willow at last happily sighed, "oh... gods..."



"Willow?" Tara gently inquired.



"Just... gods," Willow murmured, nuzzling against Tara's neck, "you're so, so... beautiful doesn't even begin to cover it. You're more than beauty, you... you make beauty, you create it... you bring it into my world."



"I love you," Tara said simply.



"I could never doubt that," Willow smiled, "never, never ever. I love you, my sweet," she kissed Tara on the lips, "beautiful," and again, "sexy," again, "lovely Tara." With one last kiss, gently opening Tara's mouth and dipping in with her tongue, she finally slid off her thigh and lay beside her, gazing at her in complete adoration.



"So," she grinned after a moment in which they simply enjoyed the sight of each other, "thinking of this all day, huh?"



"Uh-huh," Tara said with a smile, "well, asking me to meet you at the Palace garden sort of put the idea of a picnic in my head. And, well," she admitted with an adorable blush, "then I might have imagined a brief, um, interlude in the privacy of the bushes."



"Well that just shows how well you know me," Willow laughed, "besides, it's been at least four hours since we made love in the shower, that's plenty of time for me to build up a new appetite for you. Actually," she grinned sheepishly, "four seconds would do fine as well."



"You're not the only one," Tara said with an answering grin. They shared a chuckle, then Willow sat up and reached for her basket.



"Feeling hungry?"



"Always," Tara said, with a gleam in her eyes. Willow laughed to herself.



"No doubt about it," she joked, "four seconds, and she's at it again."



"What've we got?" Tara asked, sitting up beside Willow.



"Oh, plenty - um, bread, cheese, there's a salad in that bowl, some fruit, there's a flask of juice somewhere, oh, and look!" she finished, fishing a stem out of the basket.



"Our favourite," Tara smiled.



"Fresh cherries," Willow nodded, picking one off its stem and holding it out to Tara, who devoured it right out of her fingers.



"They're not pearl cherries, so they've got seeds," Willow added. "I definitely owe Jesye some thanks, I asked her where a nice spot in the gardens might be and she told me about this little hideaway, and then she just showed up at Myrreon's workshop just before lunch with the basket from the kitchens."



"Wow," Tara mused, "that's impressive. I hope someone on the Duke's staff asks about our attendants sometime, I'd really like to give them a glowing report."



"Me too," Willow agreed. "I think Jesye might have had a bit of an ulterior motive though, I get the impression she might just have a teensy crush on Zan."



"Yeah?"



"Just a hunch. I mean, she's always nice, but she seems even more... I don't know, lively? I noticed her looking a bit more, I'm not sure how to put it - she smiles a bit wider, her face sort of lights up. I guess, next time we meet somewhere, watch me when I see you, I bet it's just the same." Tara blew her a kiss, which she returned.



"Anyway," she went on, "I thought I noticed her brighten when he answered the door yesterday, and she was definitely sneaking a glance at him now and then today. Not that I doubt she was glad to give me a hand preparing this little surprise for you, she was just as enthusiastic after we left the tower, but," she smiled, "I bet having an excuse to go up there seemed like a nice bonus."



"You might be right," Tara said, "I was kind of too nervous yesterday to be really paying much attention to how she was acting. But, you remember you told me Lissa had been assigned to Myrreon's rooms once? Maybe Jesye was too. I mean, they're friends, maybe they worked the same shifts, or something..."



"...and Jesye developed a liking for the mysterious, handsome mage's assistant," Willow concluded, "yeah, I can see that."



"Is he mysterious?" Tara asked. "I didn't spend much time with him."



"Not on purpose," Willow said, "but... well, I think he's very deep. Lots of layers, and he seems like he might be a very private person too. Combined with the exotic looks, yeah, I guess there's a bit of mystery to him. He's very friendly, though. We get along well."



"Where's he from originally?" Tara wondered.



"I'm not sure exactly," Willow admitted, "I asked him, but he didn't want to go into it, so I didn't press. Somewhere in the far east. Way beyond the lands the Order has reliable information on, anyway. Like I said he's private - he was very polite about it, but I could see he didn't really want to talk about it. Maybe they're not happy memories - there's some scary rumours about that part of the world."



"Maybe," Tara nodded, "he's happy here?"



"He seems to be," Willow said, opening the salad bowl and placing it between them. "Myrreon's very complimentary about his abilities, and he seems to enjoy assisting - Myrreon gives him a lot of responsibility, it's not just carrying books and beakers around. He's got a very precise mind, very methodical, analytical - I think he liked the challenge that Myrreon's projects give him."



"I don't suppose you know if he knows about Jesye?" Tara smiled.



"No idea," Willow shrugged, "we're friendly, but I get the impression he takes a long time to get to know someone. Most of what we've talked about has just been magic, either general stuff, or specific to what we're working on. Maybe, though - he did ask about her, just in passing, how she's doing as our attendant, and he's not the sort to just make casual conversation for no reason. Maybe she's in with a chance there."



"What about Ocean?" Tara asked. "Have you worked with her?"



"A bit," Willow said, "she's an apprentice, so mostly when Myrreon's talking to me she's keeping an eye on whatever he was doing beforehand. Now she *is* a mystery... Zan's taught me a few of her signs, so she can 'talk' to me a bit, enough that we can work together well enough for simple stuff. She understands me, of course, just I have to be able to read her signs to understand her."



"She never talks?"



"Zan says she can't," Willow explained, "not human speech, anyway, apparently she's just not capable of forming most of the sounds."



"Are there snake-people?" Tara asked. "A species, I mean? A society?"



"Sort of," Willow said, "there's a species that live deep in the Aranoch desert called Vipermagi, sort of serpent-men - humanoid upper body, with arms and shoulders and head, but covered with scales and sort of snake-shaped, and from their chest down these long, powerful snake bodies. They're- well, to put it bluntly, they're evil. They hate all other creatures... this isn't just second-hand sources, you understand, Ember's told me about them herself, and she's really not the kind to hold onto old prejudices. So far as I know - and I've read a lot of what the Order has about human-like species - they're the only serpentine race there is, aside from your basic snakes."



"Ocean's not one of them, is she?" Tara asked with a frown.



"No, she's not," Willow agreed, "for one thing, she's got legs, and besides, all the accounts I've read that mention it say that Vipermagi are asexual, they all appear male by our standards, except they can reproduce with each other - they lay eggs - whereas Ocean's definitely a woman, they way humans would see it... I didn't want to pry, particularly seeing as I don't know her well enough myself, and would've had to ask Zan. I mean, where she comes from isn't a problem - Zan obviously thinks she's no danger at all, Myrreon sort of treats her like a daughter, and she seems to look up to him kind of like a father. She's the gentlest person, as well. Just from being around her a little, I can't imagine her ever wanting to hurt anyone, or be cruel. She reminds me of you, in that respect."



"Thank you," Tara smiled.



"But yeah, she's a bit of a mystery. Unless she's the product of some very powerful mage doing something really insane with humans and snakes, I'd guess she's half Vipermagus. That can happen sometimes with some of the human-like races, cats in particular, there's some accounts of cat-people mating with humans... well, *mating* in the physical sense they do all the time, apparently, but there's reliable sources saying that there have been half-cat half-human children born to cat and human parents. I've never heard of a half-Vipermagus though, there's no reference to any ever having been born in anything I've read, and all things being equal I'd have guessed that humans and Vipermagi were incompatible, on a child-bearing level. And yet," she waved a hand vaguely, "there she is. Where it counts she's about as unlike a Vipermagus as you could imagine, but that'd be my best guess. She's even got their skill at astronomy."



"The orrery?" Tara asked.



"Yeah, Myrreon says she's brilliant with it, she actually helped redesign some parts of it. And Vipermagi are famous - infamous, actually - for sky magic. Ember told me that during the Reckoning, when things looked bad for Lut Gholein, and the Vipermagi thought they'd have all of Aranoch to themselves, they actually brought on an eclipse that lasted for twenty days before their temple was found and the spell was broken."



"Yipes," Tara murmured.



"I'm sure Ocean's a good person, though," Willow went on, "she's just... well, I guess she's like Zan, she's very private. Mind you, if she was born in Aranoch, they hate Vipermagi there, so it can't have been easy for her. Poor girl... oh, hey, though, you'll love this, speaking of the orrery-" She leant over and began fishing in her satchel.



"Where is the darned thing? Oh, here, hold this." She handed Tara the disc they had transmuted the day before.



"You've still got this thing?"



"Yeah... still a mystery. I mean, it's completely magically inert. Odd composition though."



"Oh?" Willow abandoned her quest in her satchel for a moment and picked the disc back out of Tara's hands.



"It's covered by a thin gold layer," she explained, "but underneath that - we did a bunch of equivalence spells to see what it was made of exactly - underneath that there's twenty-seven different alloys, each in a ring that's locked into the alloys next to it. And I mean locked, it's not like they could have been slotted together, there's parts where they have bolts and hooks actually inside the next ring, so they had to be made by magic, or a very *very* talented craftsman. The precision in it is amazing, but so far as we can tell, it doesn't *do* anything. There's no sign of wear on the edges, so it wasn't made sharp and blunted over time - Zan still thinks it's a chakram, but it doesn't even fly well. He tried skimming it across the workshop, and just knocked over an empty easel a few metres away. If it weren't for the gold it'd be decorative, in a way - sort of a show-off piece - but as it is, it might just as well be one metal inside it rather than dozens." She shrugged and handed it back to Tara. "We sent a description down to the university library - they've got literally more books than anyone could read in a lifetime-"



"Even you?"



"Even me," Willow nodded, "but the mages have always got the librarians looking up something or other, so if they don't know where to look, they just give them the description of whatever it is. Sooner or later, if it's there, it'll turn up. Maybe in some obscure book of party decorations for mages who like metalwork, I don't know."



"Why would anyone go to all the trouble of hiding something like this?"



"Beats me," Willow said, her attention on the contents of her satchel again, "maybe it's a piece of something else, who knows... ah, here it is." She proudly held up a pair of small metal spheres, each an inch across, their polished silver surfaces shining brightly. Willow held the top one, and the other hung a few inches beneath it. Tara peered closer, looking for a strand of silk, a thin wire, but there was nothing.



"Neat, huh?" Willow said, swinging the sphere back and forth - it moved exactly as if it were attached on a string. "It's a test piece for something Myrreon and Ocean are trying to build into the orrery, so it won't have to have to many moving parts. Apparently it's still prone to throwing a gear late at night now and then."



"How does it work?"



"It's one of those simple/complicated things - easy to do, but you need a particular sort of genius to think it up in the first place. What you do is, you make two spheres, or whatever, it doesn't matter what they are so long as they're as close to identical as you can get. These are just a silver-tin mix. Now, everything has energy - people have so much energy they're practically bursting with it, living energy, souls, magic - but everything, even something as simple as this, has energy, even if it's just the energy that makes it exist."



"Uh-huh," Tara said, gently prodding the lower sphere, watching it swing on its invisible tether.



"What Myrreon's done is to swap some of the energy from one sphere to the other, and vice versa. It works because they're almost identical - the differences are minute, the kind of imperfections that even magical forging can't entirely get rid of. But that means their energies are very, very close to being identical. If you tried to swap two different things, it wouldn't work, because the energy from one wouldn't, well, 'fit' in the other. But this works, and the result is, they're permanently 'paired'."



"So they stay together?"



"Well, that's more of a side-effect, this is the distance apart the spheres were when the experiment was done, so they sort of default back to that. You can separate them, though." She caught the other sphere and gently tugged them apart. "The real benefit is... well, here, hold this."



Tara took the sphere that Willow offered and held it in her palm. Willow meanwhile leant over and touched the other sphere to the ice slowly melting in the wine chiller.



"Ah!" Tara exclaimed, almost dropping her sphere. She relaxed, and rolled it around in her palm. "It's cold. Not ice cold, but... like a cold breeze."



"I want to ask 'isn't that cool', but I'd never stoop to such a pun," Willow joked, earning a giggle from Tara. "See, because they're paired, they sort of transmit their physical state from one to the other. What you felt wasn't actually the sphere getting cold, although it would after a while, if I left this one in the water and it cooled down. But when I held this sphere close to the ice, an echo of the ice existed around your sphere. So you were sort of feeling an echo of what it would have been like if you hand had been holding my sphere, and seeing as your hand was underneath it, and I was holding mine above the icy water, your hand felt cold."



"Wow," Tara said, rolling the sphere between her fingers.



"It's really just a toy," Willow said, reaching over towards Tara. As she held her sphere over Tara's hand, the other sphere tugged gently towards it, finally seeming to latch on and float up as Willow lifted her hand. "Myrreon's made other versions, paired gears and stuff, to work on eliminating some of the connecting struts in the orrery that keep getting jammed. These are just a test he did, to see if it would work." She shrugged and dropped them back into her satchel. "Zan had an idea for using them to send messages, sort of coded, like smoke signals - touch one sphere to a block of ice and they'd feel it at the other end, something like that - but it didn't work out, the pairing effect starts to fade after they get more than five miles or so apart."



"All these fascinating things you do," Tara mused.



"I promise I'll keep you up-to-date until you get time to visit the workshop again," Willow replied.



"Yay," Tara murmured happily. She happened to glance up at the statue, with its bird-bath.



"Oh! Look." She leaned over beside Willow and pointed. A small bird, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand, was perched on the edge of the dish, taking sips of the water. It was a brilliant scarlet over its wings and head, and pure white underneath. Sensing the attention on it, it glanced up, tilted its head to peer at Willow and Tara with each eye, then went back to dipping its stubby little beak in the water.



"Red Paladin," Willow whispered, "a baby... there must be a nest nearby. Oh, isn't it cute?" Tara smiled, both at the little bird and at Willow's enthusiasm, and gathered her in a hug from behind. They watched for a moment more until the baby Paladin, evidently having had its fill, waddled around to face the other way on the edge of the dish, then quick as a flash flitted into the air and vanished out over the lake.



"They're very tame," Willow said, "out in the wild you don't see them much, 'cause everything else is bigger and stronger, and they're pretty timid, but... it's kind of like nature intended them to live in parks and gardens. The babies are a bit skittish, but the grown ones - they don't really grow that much, they're all tiny, but adult ones have these lovely long tails - they'll come and perch on your finger, they're not afraid of people at all."



"Beautiful," Tara sighed, "everything's beautiful, this is..." she waved a hand vaguely around the clearing, "everything is just beautiful. Thank you Willow, thank you so much, I..."



"You're welcome," Willow said, "always."



"You know," Tara said softly, "you don't have to do a thing, not a single thing, for me to love you completely, and yet, you do all this... I feel so, so... like my heart's full of love, you know?"



"Yeah," Willow smiled, leaning back in Tara's embrace, looking up at her, "I know exactly how you feel."



-----



"The Duchess's niece was at the training field this afternoon," Tara mentioned as she and Willow ate dinner in their room that evening.



"Oh?" Willow prompted. "Do I have to go freeze her solid, or did she get the idea last night?"



"No freezing," Tara laughed, "she - Lindia - she was polite, courteous, and nothing more. We just exchanged a few words anyway, she spent most of the time riding up and down along the medium archery range."



"Riding?" Willow asked.



"She's a horse archer," Tara said, "a good one. I had a look at some of her arrows after she'd made a run, her accuracy is good - exceptional, when you take into account that she's riding across the firing line at a fast canter."



"Really? I kind of took her for a, you know, a casual adventuress - goes out riding on her own, has a poke around remote areas and ruins, but really doesn't do anything much more difficult than sleep on the hard ground once in a while. They're not uncommon, men too. Ride into town, show off a bit, move on before someone asks you to do something difficult like clear up a nest of Carvers or something."



"Apparently not," Tara shrugged, skewering the last slice of baked potato on her fork, "my Sergeant - well, he's assigned to me while I'm instructing - actually knows her a little from a campaign his unit was part of last winter. According to him she's got a noble commission, brevet-captain, and she spent three months leading some of their best scouts on hit-and-run expeditions when they were scouring the eastern highlands for demonic beasts."



"A *real* adventuress," Willow mused, "well... I bet that helps catch the attention of the noblewomen."



"So is she forgiven for giving your girl a look-over at the opera?" Tara joked.



"Well," Willow said, making a show of considering it, "I guess... so long as she's just looking. Besides, there's no denying you are eminently look-over-able. It's a real word," Willow protested as Tara giggled.



"I seem to remember she thought you were worth a look too," Tara grinned, "on which I happen to agree. A lot more than a look, in fact."



"Agree with her you may," Willow smiled, pushing her empty plate aside, "but you're the only one who gets more than a look. Do you happen to fancy a little more than a look?"



"I said a lot more," Tara replied, standing up and coming around the table, "and yes, as a matter of fact, I do." She faced Willow, giving her her best sultry smile. "Is my Willow amenable to being more than looked at?"



"Your Willow is amenable to anything you please," Willow replied, lightly biting her lower lip and ducking her head to look up at Tara through her lashes. "Looking... or anything else."



"I had an idea this afternoon," Tara leant down to whisper in Willow's ear, "why don't you go get comfortable, and I'll join you." Willow turned her head to steal a quick kiss, then sauntered over towards the bed, glancing over her shoulder now and then. Even as Tara gathered up the plates to put outside the door, Willow could feel her eyes on her. She took her time undressing, making a show of undoing the laces on her tunic, sliding her skirt slowly down her legs, discarding her bra, then sitting down on the soft bedspread, arching her back as she slipped her underwear off. By this time Tara had put out most of the candles, bringing the room's lighting down to its usual comforting night-time glow. While Willow pulled back the covers, slowly slid her legs up onto the bed and stretched out, her eyes never left Tara, who disrobed with more than a little elegant teasing in her motions, and how she chose to tantalising reveal glimpses of herself before finally shedding her clothes completely.



"These," Tara said, picking up the pair of spheres Willow had left on the mantelpiece when she returned from the afternoon's study, "they're quite safe?"



"Um, yeah, perfectly," Willow said, her brows furrowing in confusion. Tara sauntered over to the bed and knelt down beside it, bringing her face level with Willow's.



"So if I were to touch this one to my lips," she said, holding up a sphere, "and this one," she caught the other, hovering a few inches below the first, "to yours...?"



"I'd... it'd feel like you were kissing me," Willow said, comprehension dawning on her.



"If I were to hold this one... here," she touched one sphere to Willow's hardening nipple, "and this one...?" she slowly brought the other to her lips and kissed it.



"Ooh," Willow exclaimed softly, "I felt you..."



"You like?" Tara asked gently.



"I like," Willow nodded, grinning broadly.



"So," Tara breathed, giving the spheres a quick tug apart to separate them, "if I were to..." One hand disappeared down, beneath where the edge of the bed cut off Willow's line of sight. Her eyes went to Tara's, and she watched as she licked her lips, as they parted slightly, as she let out a faint sigh that turned into a smile. She raised her hand again, opening it like a stage illusionist who had made a card disappear by slight of hand, then rose slowly, looking down at Willow as she stood tall, proud and naked. The sphere was nowhere in sight, but Willow, breathing in heavy, aroused sighs, knew exactly where she had put it.



"Now," Tara whispered, elegantly lifting a leg over Willow and settling onto the bed, straddling her, "if we..." She held up the remaining sphere, and even before she had brought it all the way up to Willow's face she darted down and pressed her lips against the smooth metal. Tara let out a startled gasp, as if Willow had truly, intimately kissed her, and Willow was elated to feel on her lips an echo of the warmth and wetness she knew was within Tara.



"Oh," Tara gasped, "oh baby... oh Willow... It's... I..."



"Tara?" Willow asked softly, "is it okay-" She was cut off as Tara practically lunged at her, devouring her mouth in a searing, heart-racing kiss. Her lips and tongue moved with such passion, such single-minded desire, that Willow felt as Tara's kisses were all over her, inside and out, caressing every inch of her body.



"So, you like too, huh?" Willow murmured when Tara finally came up for breath.



"Oh," she moaned, kissing Willow's cheeks, "oh Willow baby, I like so much..."



"Then I guess," Willow said, managing to sound at least a little teasingly nonchalant, "I know what you'd like me to do with this?" She brought her hand to Tara's and took the sphere from it. Tara stared at her hand, then let out a great, sensual sigh and stretched herself out full-length on the bed, her head resting on Willow's chest, her lips tasting her breasts and nipples as she writhed slowly, too aroused even to keep still. Her eyes followed Willow's hand as she lowered it, rolling the sphere down her chest and stomach, her quick, shallow breathing a reflection of the sensations of warmth and silkiness she felt moving down her body.



"Oooh," Tara purred, "smooth..." Willow grinned at her, taking in the length of her body with her eyes, her back arching, her legs slowly moving back and forth, pressing her hips against the sheets. Tara turned her lidded gaze back on Willow's face as her hand passed her waist, and it was with Tara staring into her eyes that Willow gently parted her nether lips, slipped a single finger into herself a little way, and then tucked her thumb behind the sphere in her palm and nudged it forward.



Between its modest size, smooth surface and the abundance of moisture glistening on Willow's sex, it was no effort at all to slip the sphere between her folds and into her channel. She had to fight to keep her eyes open, to hold onto the erotic spectacle of pleasure overtaking Tara's face, as she filled with the sensation of her lover within her, not a part of her, fingers or tongue, inside the hollow of her sex, but Tara's warmth, Tara's wetness, the tight clenching of her muscles and the silky smoothness of her core, coexisting with Willow's own centre, as if a part of her. With a trembling hand, Willow slipped a finger into herself, and nudged the sphere deeper, settling it where it wouldn't immediately push out as her inner muscles worked.



Then she did close her eyes, her last glimpse being of Tara doing the same, and she knew from what she felt within that the last gentle nudge had pushed the sphere to the same place Tara held hers. It was no longer a foreign sensation she felt, but something so close to the pleasure radiating from her own sex that it seemed to Willow that she and Tara had merged, that they were both feeling the sensations of a single body, a single core of love feeding them both. Gathering herself, controlling her ragged breathing, she essayed a quick squeeze of her muscles, and was instantly rewarded by the sound of Tara's gasp of delight, and the feeling, within herself, of her lover's answering spasm of pleasure. That in turn sent another wave of pleasure through her, drawing another moan from Tara as she too experienced it.



"Oh gods," Willow gasped, "oh gods, this is... oh baby you feel so wonderful."



"I feel you," Tara moaned, her head resting on Willow's shoulder, hot breath flowing across her neck, "I feel you like I'm part of you... I... oh goddess... I-I can't keep myself... can't hold on... for long..."



"Tara?" Willow asked, hugging her. "Do you...?"



"Yes," Tara said at once, "yes, I want to feel you... all the way... everything, my love."



"Everything," Willow agreed, as Tara's hand moved down between her legs. Tara shifted, her other hand moving beneath herself, and then, at the same time, both sets of fingers found their destinations.



"Oh!" Willow exclaimed, jolting as Tara caressed her clit, while within her she felt the effects of Tara's attentions to her own sex, the squeezing, the incredible heat and wetness, climbing, soaring.



"Willow," Tara chanted like a mantra, "Willow... Willow..." Willow knew - from her voice, her breathing, the trembling in her form, and from the echo within herself - that she was very, very close. She herself was seconds from climax, but a need overtook her, to give Tara more.



"I love you," she moaned, her hand moving to cover Tara's between her legs, holding Tara's fingers to herself, the pressure on her clit setting her off. As the wave of heat crashed within her, as Tara cried out in ecstasy, she felt the answering climax, felt Tara respond to her pleasure, and Tara's pleasure become a part of her own.



"Willow!" Tara howled.



"Tara! Oh goddess," Willow exclaimed, "oh my goddess, oh! Oh... oh Tara... lover..." She shuddered her way through a strong aftershock, which with the same pleasure from Tara had almost the strength of another climax in itself. As her core slowly, very slowly, settled and calmed, she drew Tara to herself, enveloped her in a hug, and kissed her as if she was intent on achieving by pure passion the same kind of joining that magic had just given them.



The kiss - deep, probing and intense - ended only when Tara shifted her hips on top of Willow's, and both gave a little involuntary gasp as the spheres within them tugged gently, finding their partners close enough to link. Tara pressed a final kiss to Willow's lips and sat up a little, sliding her hips down over Willow's thighs. With a luxurious sigh Willow felt the small sphere slide out of her, and parted her legs to let it fall into Tara's palm. With a gentle motion Tara drew its twin out of herself, and set the pair on the bedside table as she lay back down, cuddling around Willow, submitting most willingly to her embrace.



"That was..." Willow began, searching for the words.



"Beautiful," Tara finished in a soft, devoted whisper.



"Beautiful," Willow agreed.



"You're always beautiful," Tara went on, "always... every touch, every moment... I don't- That was a wonderful experience," she said, "but I don't want you to think there's any experience you can't give me on your own."



"I know," Willow assured her, "it was very, very good, but nothing's better than just you and me, making love. We don't need anything else."



"That said," Tara smiled, nuzzling into Willow's hair, spread out on the pillow, "do you get to keep those?"



"I think so," Willow said, lifting her head slightly to give Tara a grin, "they're not actually useful for anything in the workshop, and Myrreon gave them to me... I'll ask him, but yeah, I think we get to keep them."



"Good," Tara said firmly. "The utter, complete perfection of making love to you," she kissed Willow's neck, "may be all I *need*, but there's nothing wrong with a little... magical experimentation?"



"Not at all," Willow agreed, "variety is the spice of life, after all. And I'd like our life to be nice and spicy."



"Mmm, my spicy sorceress," Tara murmured, slowly kissing her way across Willow's shoulder, then starting down towards her breast.



"Ooh," Willow smiled, "you like what you taste?"



"Always," Tara said, her voice muffled against Willow's skin, "now lie back... I'm hungry."

[FIRESIGN]

Absolutely excellent, as usual! And the spheres? Very interesting - I'd like to know where I can get a pair! hehehe!



Keep up the great work!



-Cin aka FIRESIGN

[Lt Sticks]

*repeat last reply as is too incoherent to truly think of an adequate feedback*

A fire in my heart, reborn from the ashes...just call me Phoenix


I'm Under Your Spell, nothing I can do, you just took my soul with you...

JediBites.Com Forums

[Grimlock72]

Given that everybody is going to comment on those spheres (bit like a remote controller egg, heh.. but dual-action... smart people over there in Duncraig :-).. I'll do the rest



I like how sweet they are to each other, this time Willow getting breakfast and waking Tara in a pleasant way . I could soooo imagine Willow hopping around with glee of a neat plan/picknick she had thought up.



It's good to read that Tara gets along as a teacher. I predict she'll be rather good with recruits since she's very patient. Must be a very large training area if they can line up so many people and still practice shooting from horse-back as well. Shooting a bow without preparation might be a usefull skill but at that likely range a sword/knife might be more usefull ??



Heh, had to smile when Willow was talking about Zan and Ocean. Obviously she likes to think about stuff like that, to figure it out I guess.



Now why is it that I guess a proper use of those spheres pretty much the minute Willow showed them ? Must be me I suppose .



Grimmy

--
"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[justin]

That was a great update



The spheres sound very interesting. The way they work sounds a lot like quantum entanglement, but on a much larger scale. If they could just solve the range problem then they could be useful for communications. Maybe they could use a relay.



The picnic scene was very sweet. It's good that Tara's settling into her job well.



I'm curious about what Ocean is.



Looking forward to more

Postel's Prescription: Be generous in what you accept, rigorous in what you emit.