We are the mirror as well as the face in it. We are tasting the pain this minute of eternity. We are pain and what cures pain, both. We are the sweet cold water and the jar that pours. I want to hold you close like a lute, so we can cry out with loving. You would rather throw stones at a mirror? I am your mirror, and here are the stones. ~Rumi

I learned it from a boooooooooook.
~Monty Python

Sometimes Merle just stops whatever she's doing and gazes off into space. I know cats are supposed to see invisibles all the time, but it's still weird. "Penny for your thoughts," I said to her. "A penny? Are you kidding? My thoughts are waaaaaaaaay more expensive than that. Inflation, you know. " "...You've been talking to Dryden, haven't you." "Who, me?"

Millerna and I almost always had breakfast together and usually we were joined by Dryden and sometimes Mr. Rat. Mr. Rat was away on his honeymoon though and Dryden came in every morning with an armful of unsorted mail. One morning he walked in with an even bigger heap than usual and quickly directed most of it to the circular file without opening it. "Oh, lookie here, I might be a winner. ...Yeeeeeah. I can't wait till Mr. Rat gets back. I hate dealing with this stuff." "You know they don't really mean it until the envelope is pink," I said, watching him dump everything but the newspaper into the trashcan. "Right," he agreed. He sat down at the table with us.

Millerna ate the last bite of her eggs and grabbed up her bookbag. "Gotta go!" she said. Dryden grabbed her as she went by and kissed her on the cheek. "So which holiday is it today?" she asked him. "Huh?" "You kissed me. It's a holiday?" she said. "Uh..." Dryden was caught off guard by that old game he had played with her. If today was a holiday, he had no idea which one. "It's Thursday." I said, rescuing him. "Oh, yes. Thursday! That's one of my favorites. Bye y'all!" said Millerna and she bounced out the door. Dryden shook his head sadly at me and picked up his paper again. I let him get some coffee and breakfast into him and then I said, "Oh, dearest brother-in-law?" "Yeah?" "I've got some news that's not making it up through the usual channels." "Oh?" He looked up from his paper. He knows the kind of news I can find. "You know those rumours from the Basram border? Well, some of my contacts aren't reporting in, and the few that are say..."

Weeks went by and Millie's continual mourning petered out somewhat. But not completely. She would seem absolutely fine for days at a time and then I'd find her somewhere, sobbing her heart out. I hadn't realized it before, but I've never really been friends with a woman, or at least a woman has never felt free to soak my shirt with tears. I should probably feel honoured, but what I feel is afraid. I'm not sure I know how to do this right... And indeed, I went right ahead and did it wrong. I pulled the tail of my shirt out and wiped her face with it. She opened her eyes. "What is this?" she said. "What are you doing?" "I'm going to have to change my shirt now anyway and I didn't have a pocket handkerchief. I'm an optimist," I said. She started laughing. "Oh, man. I wasn't trying to be funny," I said. "You're Dryden. You don't have to try, you just are." She wiped her eyes on my shirt again. "How many minutes have we missed? A lot?" "92," I said. "You got a spare hour and a half?" "Always," I said and just buttoned my waistcoat over my sodden shirt. Later. We adjourned to the library and she sat on my lap and kissed me, the first proper taste I'd had of her in weeks. It was like offering a forkful of caviar to a dragon; I almost ate her nose off, but she didn't seem to mind. She said, "I wish I had known you before. You know, before I had to marry you." Had to. Ouch. "Mmm." I mumbled into her mouth. "You might have hated me and had time to call off the wedding." "I might have liked you and kissed you lots." "That might have been worse." "Why?" "I kissed you the first opportunity I had last year and then you hated me," I said. "Uh... I didn't actually hate you." "Yeeeeeeah. Riiiiiiight. ...Well, I'm glad I was sent away. Those years were really good for me. I learned a lot that I would never have learned at home. Lots of it was great fun." "Eh? You were sent away? You didn't want to go?" "No." Ooops. Hell, here it comes. "Well, why?" "Uh... After I gave my consent for my father to arrange our betrothal, he... uh... caught me staring at you one day... and he was afraid I would try to take advantage of you. You were only 11." "You wouldn't have touched me." Wow. She sounds pretty sure. Oh, Millie! I said, "Oh, never! But unfortunately the shining purity of my heart was completely overshadowed by the lecherous look on my face." She studied me. "...Yeah, yeah, I see what you mean. You do look like a lech." "Maaaaaaaan! There's just no point in fishing for compliments from you, is there." "Well, a very pure lech." "Oh, sod off, why dontcha," I said and squeezed her tighter. I love you, I love you, I love you...

I walked into my sitting room and found Dryden squashed into a loose gangly ball on my little tiny couch. Large bits of him poked off the edges of the cushions, but amazingly, he was fast asleep anyway. I shook his shoulder. "The pages are looking for you. Hordes of them. They seem frantic." He opened one eye. "Yes, I know. I'm hiding from them. That's why I'm in here. I'm avoiding work and trying to have a nap, and the pages keep knocking on my door." "Oh. Sorry I woke you up then." "S'okay. I really ought to go back now." He sat up, very ungracefully. "Owww! You need a bigger couch!" I watched him pull his bandana out of his loosened ponytail, start to tie up his hair and then give up. I said, "I wonder ....how long it will take for you to recover from your injuries." "According to the doctor, I have recovered. I don't hurt everyday. He said this is just my reaction to stress now. He said to avoid stressful situations. Yeah, right. Let him be Regent." "So, what is going on? Why are the pages looking for you?" "There's a delegation of beastpeople in the north wing saying that thugs are waltzing across the Basram border and offering our unlucky furry countrymen the opportunity of indentured servitude. Refusal nonnegotiable, obviously. I've been avoiding them for hours." "Why? What are you going to do?" "Well, I'm not taking any action until Eries comes back and gives me a complete unbiased report. Preferably with maps. I'm hoping a nice quick un-uniformed ambush with a few anonymous-looking ships can solve the problem without an international incident. However, I can't think of any more polite excuses to explain to the delegates why I haven't done anything yet. I'm-pretending-it-took-me-five-days- to-read-your-ten-page-report- because I-don't-quite-trust-your-info is SO not gonna fly. Aaaaaaagh. They're gonna eat me alive." "...Waaaaaaaait a minute. Five days? Eries?" "Yah. Eries put on a disguise and went to go get me some info." "That was the errand she said she was off to? You're using my sister as a spy!?" "Well, I wouldn't say I'm using her; I'm employing her. Besides, she's a natural. And she prefers the term independent researcher." "What if something happens to her!" "Naaaah. She's smart and fast and a princess. If she gets caught, which is exceedingly unlikely, she'll tell them to ask for a ransom and I'll just buy her back." "Dryden! You have no shame!" "Nooooo... but I do have the money to buy some should I ever need any. Ah, c'mon, Eries LIKES being a sp- an independent researcher." "How much more family do you think I have to lose!? If anything happens to her, I'm never going to speak to you again!" Dryden looked surprised that his attempt at jocularity hadn't worked. "Eries is an adult and she volunteered. She was the best person for the job." "She's my sister! You should have asked me before you let her do this!" "Why? You haven't come to a meeting in months; you're not interested in this stuff. When? You're either at school or with your friends. I hardly ever see you and when I do, I don't want to talk business!" I took a deep breath and replied, with words I shall not repeat here. It just got more heated from there. We argued for a half an hour and we didn't get much resolved except that maybe Dryden and Eries ought to keep me up to date with breaking developments. Afterwards we sat in silence for a while. Dryden looked more depressed and exhausted than he had when I'd first come in. "...I hate this. I want to go home," he said.

"Where's home?" I asked, a bit relieved to be talking about something else. I think I sort of won the argument; why do I feel so unhappy? "A nice little airship stocked with books I haven't read yet, crewed by an Erzulian chef, nothing to do and absolutely no pages at all," he said. "No pages?" "I have tried and tried to explain to the pages that I do not want to be disturbed when I'm having a nap, but they just don't get the concept. It's either a cultural thing, or, more likely, the nasty little monsters know they have job security. Your Dad was not at all pleased with me when I fired his photographer." "Um... Dad's dead. They're our pages. You can fire them all if you want." "Oh, yeah." He rolled his eyes at me. "Wow. Something to look forward to. I'd laugh evilly if I wasn't so tired." I smiled but didn't laugh. It was occurring to me that throughout our fight Dryden had never resorted to the kind of language that I had. Not only was he nicer than me, he fought fairer. Oh, boy. What the hell kind of a princess am I? He sighed. "I gotta go," he said and reached for his glasses on the coffee table before us. I seized his hand and he turned his attention back to me. "When is Eries supposed to return?" I asked him. "Tonight." "You sure?" "...I think so. She's got backup, you know. If anything goes wrong, Eries will signal and the crew of the Crusade will crash the party waving their sharp shiny things... which will blow the element of surprise for later, but..." He shrugged and winced. I ran my fingers over his lumpy knuckles. He was wearing his wedding ring. He mostly wore it when he was doing Regent stuff... I said, "You know, you're right, I haven't seen much of you lately. I miss you. And I woke you up, just like the nasty little monster pages." He looked a question at me. "Let me see if I can put you back to sleep. If you can actually sleep on this pintsize sofa, it oughta be easy." I stood up, still holding his hand and led him across the floor. He looked back uncertainly at the door to the hall. "...But I... I have to-" "-No, you don't," I said and pushed him by stages flat down onto my bed. He looked a bit happier to be horizontal, once he got there. I jumped up next to him, pushed him over onto his stomach and began kneading his back. Dryden did not relax. He said. "...Whenever I take action with insufficient information, things blow up in my face. Good intentions don't get me half as far as good research. I knew Eries wasn't telling you what she was up to, and I suppose I should have told you... but I would have accepted her offer to do this job even over your protests." "She's that good at sp- ...getting information for you?" "Yes." "Oh. ...Well, I'm definitely not getting all the info I need. I've thought my princess lessons were a bunch of useless crap all along and now I'm sure they are. I'm quitting them as of this second. Instead I'll go to meetings with you, and if you and Eries get up to things I don't like, then I'll give you both a piece of my mind and if you all don't find it very princess-like or diplomatic, then you'll just have to deal. What do you think of that!?" There was a shadow of a smile on his face. "That suits me very well, actually." "Shut your eyes." "You expect me to sleep through this? How will I remember it then?" "Shush, you," I said. I pulled his shirt up to knead his bare skin, but my hands didn't slide as well as they had over the thin cotton of his shirt. Hmm... I said, "I have some sweet oil. It's supposed to be for the windburn I always get when riding, but it'd work for this..." "Sure." "We'll have to take your shirt all the way off." "Okay, " he said and pushed himself back up. I tried to pull his shirt over his head, but that didn't work too well. "Ow, ow, ow," he said and pulled it back down. He brought his hands up to his little white pearly buttons, but then frowned. He looked around. "Hey, where are my glasses?" "You left them on the coffee table. Here, I'll do it." I unbuttoned his shirt, slid it down his shoulders and went to go find the sweet oil.

When I returned, he had laid down again on my bed with his feet poking a little off the end. I sat down next to him, poured oil on my hands and over his back and worked it slowly into his shoulders and neck. There were still a few faint scars visible on his back. I pressed them gently. "How does that feel?" I asked him. "Harder," he said. Well, all right then. I suppose it's been plenty long enough for those ribs to heal. I pressed harder, leaning into him, searching for tense muscles. They were easy to find, great knots of them. I kneaded them and he sighed. I pulled his closed hand out from under his chin. He let his arms go limp and let me stretch them out beside him. I rubbed oil into his elbows and up and down his arms, and he smiled. I massaged his hands and pulled my fingers over his knuckles and fingertips and he shut his eyes. I wanted more to touch, so I undid his sash and pulled his habayah mostly off, which left him wearing only knee length shorts and sandals. I poked my hands up his shorts a ways and worked my way down both his legs. Then I took off his sandals and rubbed his long narrow feet. The oil sank into them instantly so I slathered them again and again. "Dry skin," I said, "You oughta wear socks more." He didn't say anything; he was breathing slowly, deeply, smiling slightly, eyes moving under his closed lids, dreaming. He was also drooling onto my pillow a bit. Hehehe! I swung my leg over him, sat on his rear end, and pressed my hands into his lower back. After a while he said, "Mmm," and then he blinked and opened his eyes. "Am I dreaming?" he said. "No, but you were a minute ago. Go back to sleep." He laughed but didn't go back to sleep. "Nuh-uh. ...That feels incredible, Millie." A bright green eye regarded me over his shoulder. I concentrated on the last tight remnants that I could feel in his neck and lower back and he groaned happily and shut his eyes again. "So what were you dreaming about?" I asked him. "Oh, you were giving me a backrub. It was... just like this actually, only..." "Yes?" "Um. I was facing up." "Well, we could do that." "No, we couldn't," he said. "Why not?" "Uh... Your touch is very...stimulating. You don't want me to turn over right this minute." Oooh. Eries's party... "Yes, I do!" He looked at me over his shoulder again for a long moment. "...All right." He turned under me so I was still straddling him. There was large bulge in his shorts. I looked at it, looked at him; he was looking at the ceiling. I reached for the bottle of sweet oil and poured some into my hand. I sat down on the bulge in his pants and began rubbing oil into his chest. "So how did I do? Does your back still hurt?" I asked him. He seemed to be biting his lip to repress a grin. "My back feels great. Most of my aches are all gone." "What did I miss?" He looked at me for a while, then he thrust his hips up, bouncing me into the air, so that I landed, hard, on his erection. "That bit, " he said. "Oh." I giggled. He bounced me again, and I wriggled a bit and kept massaging his chest. "Hmm." he said, "I guess it's my move now." He reached down and untied the drawstring on his shorts. "What are you doing?" I said.

"You've already taken off most of my clothes. I want you to see the rest of me." "But-" "-Hey, if you're scared, you can run out of the room." "That's not fair. Where am I gonna go? This is my room." He looked up at me then. "...That's true. It seems I am willing to risk your displeasure on this one point." And he shoved his loosened shorts down his hips. I sat back onto his upper thighs... and looked. "Well, you haven't run away. That's something anyway. Are you displeased?" he said. "Um... um... Well, I was curious." "Sooooo? What do you think? Any Royal Pronouncements?" he asked. "It's... very pink. My favorite colour, " I said conversationally. He laughed. I went on, "Can I ...touch it?" "It would be my pleasure. Literally." I reached out and ran my finger down the length of his erection. All the formal medical names crowded into my head. Glans: the dictionary definition says nothing about the sandwashed silk texture. Testicles: the diagrams don't show the shiny curly hair. And there's definitely nothing in any of my books about how curling your hand around the shaft causes it to engorge even further. Dryden trembled under me and in my hands. I need some better books. "This all right?" I asked him. "Yes, yes!" He grabbed the pillows from my bed, piled them underneath his shoulders, so he was propped up and could watch me easily. "How about some sweet oil?" he said. "Okay." I poured more oil into my hand and then froze. "Um." "What?" "How do I do this?" "Just touch me! Please!" He swallowed and tried again. "Stroke me. Up and down." Right. In a minute. I explored him with my oiled hands. The triangular cross-section was surprisingly attractive. I peeped in the little oval slit in the top, ran my fingers over cleft it was seated in, over the ridges of his glans, down the subtle veining along the shaft. Very pink. So pretty! ...Right... Up and down. He smiled and watched my every move. I blushed and bent so that my hair hid my face, but he didn't let me get away with that.

After a few minutes he said, "A little tighter?" "Like this?" "Uh-huh." He rocked his hips gently into my moving hands. It took me a minute or two to find a rhythm with him moving too, but when I did, he started moving faster and moaning. After another few minutes he said, "You have me ready. Will you... will you take me over-" "-Yes! But tell me how." "Okay." He wrapped my left hand's first two fingers and thumb around the base of his penis. "Squeeze," he said. "Yeah, just like that. Now move your other hand as you were before...Squeeze a little harder. Yeah. Now don't let go and don't stop and go a little faster. Yes... oh, god." He grabbed my knees and thrust into my hands. I didn't know where to look; his penis, throbbing and twitching and spilling all over my fingers and onto his stomach was fascinating, but so was the expression on his face.

"Stop," he said, but then, as I began to open my hands, he clapped his hands over mine. "No, don't let go yet, just stop moving." So I held his penis, felt it twitch a few more times, watched him relax back against the bed as his breathing slowed down. Finally he let go of my hands. "Oh," he said, "That, that... Kiss me." He grabbed my shoulders to pull my mouth to his. "My hands are all sticky!" I said, not knowing where to put them on him without making a mess. "I don't care," he said. He pulled me down and kissed me warmly. I kissed him back. Squish.

"Mmmm. ...Let me go find a washcloth." I bounced off the bed and ran into the bathroom, ran right back out. I wiped at his chest and stomach. "So are we consummated now?" I asked him. He lay there, watching me and smiling. "Uh... I'm not sure... Consummation implies intercourse, I think. But this does count as sex." I wiped my hands uselessly on the very sticky washcloth. "Really? Are you sure? I didn't even get to take off my clothes." "Oh....Oh, dear! Perhaps we should-" "-Can we wait just a bit on that?" I said. I kissed him again and went back to the bathroom with the washcloth.

*




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Soooo, idiot, why do you suppose she's hiding in the bathroom?
Oh, god help me. What do I do now?





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*

I turned on the tap, and stuck my hands into the stream. I think I stood there for a long while, hypnotized by the water running over my still hands. Finally I shook myself awake and looked up. How utterly delicious! I grinned at myself in the mirror. Hehehe! Oh, boy!

When I came back out of the bathroom, Dryden was dressing. He had fetched his glasses, buttoned his buttons and was putting on his habayah. I watched him tie his sash and felt strange and disappointed, though I wasn't sure why. He wasn't looking at me. He said, "I... uh... should probably go... placate those delegates." Oh, no! Did I leave him out here by himself too long? Is he thinking that I was staying in the bathroom because I wasn't happy, that I regretted my actions? I put my arm around him. "That's too bad. I don't really want to be parted from you at the moment." His chin snapped up, he stared at me. "...Uh...Would you like to come with me? I'm sure that meeting Asturia's Crown Princess would distract them from the fact that I have avoided them all afternoon." He watched my hand creep up his shoulder. Oh, for God's sakes, what does he think I'm going to do to him? "Sure, I'd love to go. After you introduce them to me, we should feed them dinner. It'll be more difficult for them to give you a hard time if they've got food in their mouths. You taught me that. And we can play footsie under the table." He closed his eyes in relief at my little speech and then bent and kissed me on the lips. Much better. I could not name the day- or hour or minute- when my happiness was yoked to his, but I found myself content to be so bound. "You have sweet oil in your hair," I told him. "Do I?" he said, smiling. "Can I brush it out for you? And put up your hair?" "Um..." "Won't take but a minute," I said and pushed him back towards my bed. "Okay." So I brushed his hair, and he fiddled with his glasses and attempted to talk. "So... um... Can I... um... I mean... are we... hmmm." "What? Just say it!" "Er. Well... I'm trying to figure out... exactly what the state of our relationship is now." "You mean... regarding sex." "...Yes. ...Do you want to sleep with me now?" "You mean, do I want to sleep with you and have intercourse and get our marriage properly consummated? Yes." "Really? All right!!" Why is he so easy to love? Too tall, too skinny and he dresses weird, Dryden's nothing like ...what's-his-name, the guy with the sleeves and the poofy hair... but he is smart... "You won't be sorry. I'll make you very happy," he said. ...and, of course, arrogant. Probably because he's usually right. Although I'm already happy. But some arguments aren't worth having. "I have no doubt, darling." I kissed him again and jumped off the bed. "Well, shall we go deal with these delegates now?" he asked me. "Not quite yet," I said. I dropped my trousers and pulled my shirt off over my head.

I dropped my bra on his lap. My cute little pink panties joined the pile on the floor. I think he stopped breathing. "I can't very well go meet important delegates in my scummy school clothes, now can I?" I said and I opened my closet and picked out a nice formal dress. Hehehe. I put it on, sans underwear. "Okay. Now I'm ready to go." "Aaaaaaagh! You are such a tease!" "You want me to quit it? I could put some underthings on, if you prefer. " "No. I'm just saying. You are such a tease." "Yeah, yeah." "...And you sound like me." "Funny that. Anyone ever told you that you have an infectious sense of humour?" I seized his hand and pulled him out of my bedroom. I don't think he wanted to go.

I listened to the delegates talk all through dinner, which Dryden had told me they would enjoy, since they'd already told him everything two or three times. When dessert (ooh! strawberry ice!) came around, one of them reciprocated and asked me what I had been up to lately. I said, "I helped take out an appendix today! The incision was only this big, but the appendix was about so big and totally covered with... yes, well, nevermind." Unlike Dryden, I have to try to be charming. Grossing out the dinner guests did draw all the attention away from Dryden for a bit. None of them noticed when he excused himself to go talk to a beast girl who had signaled to him from the doorway. They talked for a while, very intimately and I began to feel a bit jealous. I watched Dryden whisper in her ear then and she peeked around his shoulder and stared right at me. I stared back. Then she laughed. It's... it's... She tore off a long fake ear and waved it at me and then she disappeared down the gallery. Eries. Oh my god!

Well, she's back. And I guess her info was good. At least, I got to watch Dryden light the fuses on several plans he had set up in anticipation of Eries delivering what he needed to know. The delegates were VERY happy.

It was late evening when we finally escaped. Walking down the hall together, knowing what I was about to do, I must admit I still felt really awkward. I'd imagined hot passions suddenly sweeping me away, not this determined nervousness. Oh, well. When Dryden guided me past my bedroom door and through his door, I assumed it was because he didn't like the way his feet poked off the end of my little bed. That's not what he was thinking at all. I watched him dig under his big four-poster bed for a box which he then presented to me. "What's this?" "Birth control. I like being prepared." He had this stuff all ready? Just waiting to be used? "What's wrong?" "Well, it's not very romantic..." I said. "But... Marlene and your mother... The women in your family seem to have delicate constitutions. They die when they have too many children or when they have children too young. You seem very strong and healthy, but I'm not going to risk losing you. I think we should wait until you're at least 24 or 25 before we have children. ...So... um... condoms?" I sat on his bed holding the box and swinging my feet. "Till I'm 24? Wow, that'll piss off Parliament." "I piss off Parliament every other week; it's your turn." He sat down next to me. "Hehehe! Yeah. I'm not disagreeing. I think you're right. ...Now what? I have absolutely no idea how to do this." "Uh." He swallowed. "I have a book with pictures of various sexual positions. Want to see?" I nodded. He leapt up, ran a finger over the books in a nearby shelf, pulled one out and handed it to me. I flipped through it. It was filled with paintings of pretty couples frolicking in interesting ways amidst swirling draperies and odd surreal-looking plants; it was very intriguing, although... "Oh, come now, that's not physically possible, is it?" I said.

"Um. I don't know. We should probably start off with the easy-looking ones at the front of the book." I flipped back to the beginning. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dryden move his hands to his lap and casually press down on the interesting little tent effect appearing there. Neat! And then I realized I was outright staring. And Dryden was smirking. He uncovered his lap. I wrenched my gaze back to the book. "So... which one?" "Page four," he said. I flipped pages. Page four was a picture of man sitting down with a woman sort of sitting or kneeling over him. "From what I've read, this is a particularly nice position for a first time. The woman has to do all the work, but that means she also controls the speed that everything happens. It's less likely to be uncomfortable for her." "You did research on this?!" "...I like being prepared." "Yeah, you've said that before. I'm beginning to think maybe that IS romantic." I took another look at the picture on page four. Yup. I can do that. "Okay dokey," I said and started unbuttoning my dress.

* * * *

Perhaps the people in the painting had more style and grace what with the plants and the draperies, and okay -so what if I did accidentally slingshot the first condom across the room, but I was persistent and Dryden pulled a bottle out of his box of supplies and graciously greased me up and we eventually managed a close approximation of the picture. "Hey, we're not virgins anymore!" I said. My nervousness had fled. "...um...uh... Yeah!" Dryden seemed enthralled by the sight of our joined bodies. "So what do you think?" "I... uh.... well......I......I....uh....." "Hmmm, you sound a tad incoherent. Do you remember your name? How about the date? How many fingers am I holding up?" "Oh, haha, real funny. Shush, you; I'm enjoying this. Just- just give me a minute." I grinned. Dryden tells me to shut up so sweetly! "How many do you want?" "What?" he said. "How many minutes do you want?" "...All of them," he said seriously. I laughed. He clasped me to him. "Oh! Oh, do that again!" "Do what?" "Laugh." But I was too distracted to obey. There was still maybe an inch of lovely pink penis visible between us. I pressed myself down and made it disappear. Then I rolled my hips against him. Oh, boy. What a bummer that I'd been a late bloomer! I could have done this months ago! ...Well, maybe not. Dryden grabbed me round the waist then and held me still. "Wait, wait!" he said. I wiggled in his grasp but not as much as I wanted to and he didn't let go. "Why?" I almost whined. "No pain?" he asked me. I looked up at the concern in his voice. "Uh, no. No hymen. I am a virgin, though. ...I mean, I was a few minutes ago." "Oh. All the horseback riding?" he said. He believes me! Yes! And don't think he would care even if I hadn't have been anyway. "Uh... yeeeeeeeah." I found it very difficult to lie to him under the circumstances even by omission. I told him the truth. "Or it could be that I played with myself constantly," I said. I wasn't that late a bloomer. He laughed and I understood why he'd liked it when I laughed. Oooh! "More and more, it becomes clear; you are the perfect woman for me," he said. He loosened his grip on me and let his hands wander. I flexed my knees. How nice to find another use for the honking huge thigh muscles I got from riding. I moved up, I moved down, I moved from side to side. Dryden was beginning to tremble. Oh, not yet! I stopped moving. "Noooo!" he said "Five!" I said to him. "Is that how you rate me?" he said, sounding disappointed. "No, that's what I want to do next." I picked up my new favorite book and showed him the picture that had caught my eye when I'd first looked at it. Oooooh, five.... "Ah." he said and then as I pulled myself off of him, he said it again... with feeling.

Millerna liked number five -a lot to go by the noises she made- and then she wanted to try another. I was happy to oblige, but... "Hmmm... This is supposed to be the old standby. You'd think it would be easier." "You're trying to do it with no hands and you're too tall. That's the problem," she said. "Too tall for what?" "Gimme that! Oho. There we go. Guess you're not too tall after all."

"Didn't think so. In fact I think we got this one just r-r... oooh!" She moved under me and it was suddenly obvious why this one was the old standby...

"Hey! Hey! Enough of this one!" "What? I'm like six strokes from coming! Just let me-" "No! I want to be on top now. Roll over." Being that close to coming must make me stupid or something; I actually argued with her about it. "But- but you already-" "-Yeah, well, I'm the girl. I get to go twice. Twice for every one of yours. It said so in the back of that book. ...Sometimes more than twice." "...I've looked through that book 50 times and I don't remember that." "Uh... It was written really, really, really small?" "Ya don't say. You are such a bad liar. Admit it. You just can't get enough of me." "So true. Roll over!" she commanded in her princess voice. "Yes, ma'am." I rolled over.

"I do get to have my way with you, though, right? Eventually?" "Ye-e-e-ee..." Oh. Another inarticulate moment for her. Lucky girl. "That was a yes, right?" I said. She collapsed over me, panting in my ear. "Eh? Yes, what?" I asked her. "...Yes. Yes, sir." "Oh, goodie. I can't wait." "Yes, you can. Yes, you did. All yours now," she said. All mine? I do not need to be told twice. I rolled her back over and pulled her hips up to mine. Mine.

All mine. Oh, I love the sound of that. All mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mmmmmm............

"Okay, I like number 4 and 5, you just gotta love the simplicity of 2 and 3, 16 is pretty fun and I'm very much looking forward to trying out all these others, too, but I still think you'd have to rip your limbs out of their sockets in order to perform number 37. What do you think, Dryden?" ".........." "Yeah, well. I guess I'll ask you later." We have all the time in the world. I pulled the covers over us, curled up against his side and shut my eyes.

How interesting to pee in the morning in someone else's bathroom. Dryden had had someone install another sink and a higher counter next to the original ones. Another mirror, too. I might have looked in Dryden's cabinets, but for all that I'd slipped out of bed so quietly, I'd left the bathroom door open and my tinkling had woken him up. "Hi!" I said when he walked in. He caught me up, set me on the edge of the sink, insinuated himself between my knees and kissed me, which seemed to be his version of good morning. Assumptive, arrogant bastard. And right, too, dammit.

"So are you going to sleep with me in my bed from now on?" he asked. "Um....Yeah, I gue- Um. Yes. Definitely," I said. "Well in that case, maybe we should move the bookcases covering the door between our rooms, eh?" "...You knew about that!?" I had completely forgotten. "Darling..." "Right. Of course you did." "I'll go make the pages move them right now." "...Uh, couldn't we do it?" "Yeah, but why bother when we have hordes of lazy pages?" "It'd be... more discreet." "...You don't want people to know? Were you planning on carefully mussing up your bed every morning? What have you got to hide? We're married!" "Oh, all right. I guess it's stupid to act like... Okay. Whatever." I wiggled out of his grasp and went to look for my clothes. He followed me out of the bathroom a minute later, sat on his four-poster bed and watched while I tried to find my underpants. Oh, yeah, I hadn't worn any. Duh. Dryden went on with our conversation. "Whatever, you said.... Wonderful! Shall we go down to the market right now and buy multicoloured condoms and a liter of lube?" "Dryden!" "Still shy, eh? No problem, catalog shopping it is! I luuuuuuuv brown paper packages tied up with string! Let's get lots of naughty toys!" "Dryden! I'm a princess!" "...So?" he said. I glared at him. He reached under the bed, pulled out a sheaf of stapled papers, flipped through them and handed them to me. I read the sheet he'd pointed to silently. I swallowed and read it again. "Um. Okay. Fine. But I'm not opening that package at the breakfast table with Eries!" "Woohoo! Woohoo!" He bounced up and down on the bed. Flop, flop. Oh, my.

"Are you sure you're older than me? You're acting about five years old," I said. "Don't be silly," he said, which was totally the pot calling the kettle black. "This is my my wife had sex with me, said she'll sleep with me always AND play with naughty toys with me dance. Only grownups may do this dance. Woohoo!" "Uh-huh. Performed to the tune of woohoo, woohoo, I see. So what does your my wife loves me dance look like? Is it any more dignified?" "Nope. Same thing. I'm not much of a choreographer." He stopped bouncing up and down then and shoved his glasses -which had almost slid off the end of his nose- back up. "Um... do you... I mean, did you actually say that you love me?" "Um... not yet." A faint frown preceded his poker face. "...Is that no, I haven't said it yet... or- or no, I don't lo-" "-I love you! I love you lots! Heaps! Have for a while." "Oh. I love you, too." "So. No jumping up and down?" "Maybe in a minute. I'm enjoying this now." "You want me to shush while you enjoy it?" "You can't talk while you're kissing. Come here." I obeyed and one thing led to another and... well, I guess the hot passions suddenly sweeping me away that I'd been hoping for, that was simply something we'd had to work up to. Yum.

Had enough yet?

For the moment.

Dryden licked his finger, ran it over my nipple, watched it swell, licked his finger again and applied it to my other nipple. He seemed to be timing it carefully so he could get them both to stand at the same height. "Now this..." He nudged the right one again. "This I shall not be able to stop myself from making poetry about." "Will it be bad?" I asked. "It shall be god-awful. Right up there with my choreography. Oh, well."

We'd missed breakfast by a mile and I didn't feel like moving. May as well just wait for lunch. I reached up and took Dryden's... our... picturebook off the headboard and flipped through it. "Hey, that was number 7 that we did just now! Six down; 36 more positions to try out. And frankly, I think our number 3 needs practice." "Now!? You're gonna kill me. Aren't you sore yet?" "Nah. And I have it on good authority that you are a lot tougher than you look." "Hey, I've told you before, Mr. Rat is a liar. And you're insulting my looks." "No, I'm not. I like your looks." "...Is that all? Such an expansive turn of phrase you've got there." "I like the way your hair glints red in the sun and gets even curlier when it rains. I like your silly knobby knees and the freckles which go so nicely with your stupid grin. I like your elegant cheekbones and your eyebrows which go so nicely with your sardonic smirk. Yes, that one. You've got range to your cuteness. I like that." He giggled. "Tell me more about my eyes." "So are you a pirate or aren't you?" "Now, see, if I say yes you'll be horrified, and if I say no you'll be disappointed. My best and wisest course is to never ever tell you and just let you wonder." "Aaaaaaaaaaw!" "Live with it, darling." ...I can do that.

Next: Epilogue Four Minutes Intro to Escaflowne Chapter One: Unseasonable Weather (Card Zero) Chapter Two: Letter to the King (Page of Cups) Chapter Three: A Kiss is just a Kiss (Knight of Wands) Chapter Four: Visions of Roses (Ace of Wands) Chapter Five: Practice makes Perfect (Deuce of Swords) Chapter Six: Walking Wounded (Eight of Cups) Chapter Seven: Four Minutes (Eight of Swords) Chapter Eight: Foundation (The Hanged Man) Chapter Nine: Horseplay (Deuce of Cups) Chapter Ten: Lessons Learned (Deuce of Coins) Chapter Eleven: Keeping Time (Strength) Chapter Twelve: Wind and Water (Ace of Cups) Chapter Thirteen: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. (Four of Wands) Chapter Fourteen: Reader, I... (Epilogue) Dedication & Webliography Goodies for You! (Wallpaper) Award! Didodikali's Lemonade Party (Links)