Written August 10th 10:37 PM

The prospect of taking on a mission that required numerous weeks spent at sea filled Ailith with excitement. The First and Last hadn’t had much luck on boats, necessarily (Ailith still had nightmares about drowning in a sea of spiders) but the change in scenery was always appreciated. A dwarf named Groundhammer showed the group around The Disaster’s Mistress, ending with the sleeping quarters below decks. Ailith’s attitude towards the whole sea-voyage thing got decidedly worse when she realized they would be sleeping with the rest of the crew. In a big room. In hammocks.

She shot a look at Feyra, unsurprised to see the other woman staring at the hammocks with a look of distaste on her face. It wasn’t that they couldn’t sleep in hammocks, gods knew they had slept in stranger places before, but they had both gotten so used to the luxury of sharing a bed while at Feywinda’s – it felt strange to go backwards. Ailith sighed. It’s only a couple weeks, she told herself.

That night, Ailith lay awake listening to the ship creak around her. There was the odd huff as one of the crewmembers shifted in their hammock, and she was pretty sure Talus was snoring somewhere next to her. The rocking of the ship was soothing, but she couldn’t sleep. Feyra was in the hammock below her, so close she could almost feel her – wait, what is-?

Ailith felt a hand reach through the rope of her hammock and brush against her arm. Before she could respond, the hand gave a tug, swinging Ailith’s hammock slightly. Ailith twisted, peering through the darkness to where she could just make out Feyra’s eyes looking up at her. Grinning, she rolled slowly herself out of her hammock, lowering herself gently until she was straddling Feyra’s hammock, balancing her knees on the outside edges. She braced herself, muscles taut and shaking, trying to stay steady. The last thing she wanted was the both of them falling out and waking up the entire crew; Xiv would never let them hear the end of it.

“You good up there?” Feyra whispered, hands coming up to hold Ailith’s hips.

“Don’t worry, I’m super dexterous,” Ailith replied, letting go of her hammock and bringing her hands down on either side of Feyra’s head.

“Oh, that I know,” Feyra teased. Ailith gasped and squirmed when Feyra ghosted her hands up her sides, the touch light enough to tickle. “Shh!” Feyra admonished, fighting back laughter. “We have to be quiet.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Ailith murmured as she pressed kisses along Feyra’s jaw. “For one of us, at least.” She grinned wickedly against Feyra’s pulse-point as the other woman stifled a groan. What could Ailith say? She enjoyed a challenge.

Written August 8th 2021 9:12 AM

It was one of those mornings where Feywinda wanted time to herself, leaving Feyra free to wake Ailith up in whatever manner she saw fit. Today, Ailith woke to the feeling of Feyra’s fingernails softly scratching the shaved side of her head. Ailith hummed at the sensation and stretched out, relishing the feeling of a well rested body – no aches, no pains, no bruises. She could get used to this.

“I like your hair like this,” Feyra muttered in the morning light of the room. “It suits you.”

Ailith smirked. She knew Feyra liked her hair like this, she made it evident every time she rebraided it, often getting distracted halfway through and having to start again hours later. “Thank you, love. Want me to do yours to match?” Ailith was joking, she loved Feyra’s hair. If she was being honest, she was a bit obsessed with it. She couldn’t count the times it had featured in her dreams long before they had ever cemented their relationship.

“Actually…” Feyra began, prompting Ailith to rise up on one elbow and actually look her in the face. “No, I don’t want it shaved, don’t worry,” Feyra clarified, rolling her eyes at the scandalised look on Ailith’s face. “But, I was thinking it was time for a change. Would you cut it for me?” Feyra’s hands twisted in Ailith’s hair, her eyes focused on a spot over Ailith’s shoulder.

“If that’s what you want, of course I will,” Ailith assured the other woman, stretching up to press a kiss to her forehead. Feyra smiled, the smile she saved for Ailith alone, and pulled Ailith out of bed. They set up a stool in the garden, and stole Feywinda’s kitchen shears and a hand towel for the job. According to Feyra, human hair helped keep deer away from the plants.

“Yes, dear, whatever you say, dear” Ailith laughed, shrieking when Feyra whipped the towel at her side. “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up completely bald,” Ailith warned, brandishing the shears menacingly.

“Oh please,” Feyra scoffed, “like you’d be able to live with yourself if you ever cut off all my hair.” Ailith put a hand to her chest in mock indignation.

“You wound me!” Feyra was right though, there was no point in denying it. “Now sit down and let me work my magic,” Ailith instructed, stretching out her fingers. Feyra sat with a laugh, going still as Ailith carded her hands through her hair, working out the knots and tangles she found there. Ailith slowly got to work with the shears, tongue poking out between her teeth as she concentrated. She had always cut her own hair, side shave excluded, and it really wasn’t very complicated, but she didn’t want to fuck it up.

She drew back some time later, admiring her handiwork. “Well?” Feyra asked, squirming in place. “Will I do?” Ailith turned Feyra to face her, her hair now swinging at her shoulders. There was still a slight wave to it, a bit more noticeable without the additional weight pulling at the strands. Ailith found herself staring, seeing Feyra’s face differently now that there was less hair for her to hide behind.

“You’ll do,” Ailith confirmed, cupping Feyra’s chin and bending down to steal a kiss.

Written August 6th 2021 8:53 AM

Ailith had almost forgotten how grimy and sore she was until the moment Feyra led her upstairs and started drawing her a bath. She had dragon turtle blood covering almost every inch of her, the sticky substance solidifying her hair and cracking when she flexed her broken hands. Feyra puttered around the bathroom, mumbling to herself as she checked the water temperature and gathered towels – the big, fluffy kind that Ailith preferred. Ailith just stood in the middle of the room, eyes glazed over, as the adrenaline and tough facade fell away, leaving her trembling with exhaustion and pain. She tried to undo the buttons on her shirt, but her hands were trembling too much to get purchase.

Feyra must have heard a hitch in her breath, because suddenly she was at Ailith’s side, eyes wide with concern. “Please…” Ailith whispered, voice hoarse and unsteady. She didn’t like asking for help, she didn’t ever want to appear weak, but this was Feyra. “It- Everything hurts, please-” Ailith broke off as tears started to fall from her eyes, choked off sobs wracking her body. Feyra hummed in response, laying her hand over Ailith’s chest as the other woman curled into herself as if she could shield herself from the pain. A murmured word in an arcane language Ailith’s mind was too exhausted to translate brought much needed relief from the pain in Ailith’s chest, the bones broken by Elijah’s beating setting properly.

Ailith let herself be undressed, eyes unfocused as Feyra moved her limbs for her, peeling the disgusting mess that was her clothes off her and dumping them in a heap on the floor. Only magic was going to get those clean again. Feyra manoeuvered Ailith to the tub and helped her into the hot water. Ailith let out a low groan as she sank in up to her chin, relishing the feeling of the dried blood flaking off her skin. Feyra didn’t join her – instead, she spent the next half hour washing Ailith’s hair, working the strands until there was no trace of blood left. Feyra moved washcloth after washcloth down Ailith’s body, letting Ailith rest boneless against the side of the tub, eyes closed against the onslaught of thoughts running through her mind.

There hadn’t been much time to think immediately after the fight. There was too much to do – confront Jack, debrief Thatcher, make sure everyone was okay. Now, as Feyra continued washing the evidence of the day off her body, Ailith let herself reflect. She had held back with Jack, after learning about his betrayal. Truthfully, two punches to the face wasn’t nearly punishment enough in her opinion. Telling Thatcher had been a business-like affair. Yeah, she had died, but that was part of the job, right? Gasping, choking for air that wasn’t going to come, looking into the eyes of the man whose only mission in the afterlife was to hunt you down and kill you, knowing the love of your life was watching as he snapped your neck- all in a days work. Detachedly, Ailith noted that although she was no longer sobbing, silent tears were still coursing down her face. Feyra wiped them away, her own eyes glassy with unshed tears. Ailith knew she needed to check in with her, that they needed to have a conversation about, well, everything. But she just didn’t have the energy.

Eventually, Ailith’s thoughts stopped circling and utter exhaustion set in. She lost count of how many times Feyra had to drain and refill the tub as the grime from Ailith’s body soiled it again and again. At one point Ailith must have dozed off because Feyra was now carrying a tray full of food into the room, setting it on a stool nearby. Ailith hadn’t even noticed her leave. She didn’t have the strength left to lift her arms to the food, and to be honest she didn’t have much of an appetite anyway. Ailith knew Feyra would make her eat, caretaker that she was, and if she was being honest, getting fed in a warm bath sounded lovely. She closed her eyes again as Feyra got undressed and loaded both sets of clothes into a basket to be dealt with later.

Finally, Ailith felt the water slosh against her as Feyra slid into the bath across from her. She opened her eyes a crack, watching the redhead wash her own hair, the strands turning as dark as her own. Feyra caught her watching and said nothing, just reached out a hand to Ailith and pulled her gently closer. Ailith turned slowly, so as not to spill any water, and let Feyra tug her backwards until her back was flush with Feyra’s front. “Don’t worry, nin mel. I’ve got you.” Feyra’s voice was soft in the silence of the room as her fingers worked into Ailith’s muscles, undoing the knots and leaving Ailith feeling like jelly. Ailith leaned her head against Feyra’s shoulder, a small smile breaking free when the other woman dropped a soft kiss to the top of Ailith’s head. They stayed that way until the water cooled and Feyra helped a grumbling Ailith out of the tub, bundling her in a towel and scrubbing at her hair. Ailith wanted to weep all over again at the gentleness with which Feyra was handling her, like she was something precious and fragile. Feyra was the first person in Ailith’s life to treat her with such… reverence.

Satisfied that Ailith was warm and cozy, Feyra pressed another kiss to her chest, right above her heart. “Im mel cin,” Feyra whispered, her breath warm on Ailith’s skin.

Ailith laughed softly, on the verge of tears once more. “I know,” she answered in kind. And she did know. She knew with her whole heart that she was loved. The feeling was liberating.

Written August 3rd 2021 10:33 PM

Ailith was a city girl through and through, there was no denying it. She didn’t particularly like the forest, it was too fresh, too monotonous, too full of annoying creatures for her. What she did like though, was Feyra. And Feyra flourished in the woods.

They had been at Feywinda’s cottage for a couple weeks now, and Ailith had never seen Feyra so content. Everyday was spent traipsing through the nearby trees, trapping animals, cutting wood for the fire, fishing in the pond out back – all chores Ailith participated in begrudgingly, but not Feyra. Feyra was thrilled to be involved in any of it, was always ready to listen with rapture when Feywinda spoke about life in the forest or how best to cultivate the land. It had gotten to the point where Feyra would often give Ailith a soft kiss before slipping out the door before the sun had completely risen, leaving Ailith to burrow deeper into the blankets, content to sleep in until mid-morning. Ailith had lost track of how many mornings she spent training while Feyra and Feywinda were out gods-knew-where doing gods-knew-what.

Ailith supposed it should have bothered her, and maybe it would have if it wasn’t clear on Feyra’s face just how much she was enjoying it. She would bound into the cottage where Ailith was making breakfast and regale her with everything she had seen and done, and Ailith would listen with the fondest look on her face. It was rare for Feyra to talk this much and Ailith wanted to absorb as much of it as she possibly could, even if she had no idea what Feyra was talking about most of the time. Ailith wasn’t lonely by any means – Feyra might spend every morning and most days with Feywinda, but the nights were when Ailith got her all to herself.

They spent every night making up for lost time, learning each other over and over again. Each night was different, which thrilled Ailith. Sometimes Feyra was quiet, wanting nothing but Ailith to take charge and take her apart slowly. Other nights, Feyra was commanding, directing Ailith with precision. It didn’t matter which Feyra Ailith got each night – she was happy to oblige. On the mornings Feywinda wanted to be alone, Ailith woke to Feyra tracing her tattoos – the ones running down her arms, the webs tracing up her legs, the tree branches spread across her back. Those mornings were Ailith’s favourite.

Dangerously, Ailith had started letting herself dream again. She envisioned a future where she could give Feyra this kind of life. A life spent outdoors, beholden to no one and nothing. One day, she thought. Maybe one day.