Choices - Part Two ~ Prompt #34 Winifred
Title: Choices - Part Two
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse and pre-canon)
Characters: Winifred, Hrothbert (Bob)
Prompt: 34. Between
Word Count: 642
Rating: PG
Summary: Winifred makes another choice and shares a kiss.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files don't belong to me.
Notes: This follows Choices, timed to the same day. Calan Haf is explained here. :) And thank you to cyloran for looking things over.
***
Winifred moved through her garden slowly, stopping here to pluck away a dead leaf and there pulling out a stem to make way for new. After a time, she fell into a rhythm, her worries and confusion beginning to recede. She wished not to dwell on the very brief conversation she'd had earlier in the day.
She wished not to think where her heart was taking her.
Later, about to enter her home with a bundle of flowers, she paused in the doorway and reached up to run a fingertip over the dried hawthorn branch stuck crookedly into a clump of roof thatching. Gwerith had decorated her small croft for Calan Haf nearly two months ago--on May's Eve--and she'd left this one branch to appease the girl. That the 'lovely Sorceress' would not be interested in divining her sweetheart never occurred to the child.
Winifred was content to be alone. It was easier that way. With a shake of her head to push away wavering certainty, she stepped over the croft's threshold.
"Winifred?" a voice called some distance away.
She stiffened, breath catching in her throat, not daring to look. He had followed?
Go inside! Bar the door! Pretend I am not at home!
Her body refused to follow her mind's advice.
And then the scuff of a boot heel against hard packed earth announced his presence behind her. "My lady."
Too late. And she did not, would not, hide from anything or anyone. She turned to face him, bidding him speak with an inclination of her head only, features smooth of any betraying emotion, an errant breeze blowing a lock of raven hair across her cheek and against her lips.
"I want-- I need-- tell me, Winifred, what shall I not make you regret?" Hrothbert asked, stepping close enough to touch.
There. His voice was gentle once more. She could have withstood arrogance.
She was nearly undone.
The Council's machinations be damned. She'd chosen not to betray him for a promised chance to gain favor. He was, by his own actions and interests, on the outer fringes of wizard society. And now so would she be (more than ever) in choosing to side with him. She disliked politics at any rate.
He meant something else altogether, however. Winifred took a deep breath, choosing once more, eyes searching for his. "Losing my heart."
She trembled at the risk she was taking.
He whispered, "Look at me." And she knew what he was offering.
Blue eyes tinged with violet met hers and she fell into them, much too late to turn away. In the space of a moment, she knew him, the soulgaze sweeping away any lingering barriers. She knew his doubts and insecurities, strengths and weaknesses, understood his pride, saw him stripped of finery or any trappings of power, saw into a heart tender and easily broken, felt his burning, unquenchable thirst for knowledge. The furthest corners of his soul were laid bare; and just when she thought the intensity, the intimacy, were unbearable, the connection broke and she sagged against him, heart thudding, wondering what her soul had revealed in return.
"Never will I give you cause for regret, Winifred," Hrothbert said so forcefully, so intently, that she straightened with a blink. "Never," he said again, soft and low, fingers slipping through her hair and lightly brushing over her cheekbone, sparking a tingling rush of pleasure like wildfire under her skin.
"Kiss me, then, Hrothbert," Winifred replied, for that was all she wanted now--to feel his lips against hers, to taste him, touch him, hold him.
With a groan, he gathered her fully into his arms and kissed her with such tenderness and passion--and she him--that the bundle of flowers fell, forgotten, from her grasp in a shower of petals that fluttered away on the wind.
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse and pre-canon)
Characters: Winifred, Hrothbert (Bob)
Prompt: 34. Between
Word Count: 642
Rating: PG
Summary: Winifred makes another choice and shares a kiss.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files don't belong to me.
Notes: This follows Choices, timed to the same day. Calan Haf is explained here. :) And thank you to cyloran for looking things over.
***
Winifred moved through her garden slowly, stopping here to pluck away a dead leaf and there pulling out a stem to make way for new. After a time, she fell into a rhythm, her worries and confusion beginning to recede. She wished not to dwell on the very brief conversation she'd had earlier in the day.
She wished not to think where her heart was taking her.
Later, about to enter her home with a bundle of flowers, she paused in the doorway and reached up to run a fingertip over the dried hawthorn branch stuck crookedly into a clump of roof thatching. Gwerith had decorated her small croft for Calan Haf nearly two months ago--on May's Eve--and she'd left this one branch to appease the girl. That the 'lovely Sorceress' would not be interested in divining her sweetheart never occurred to the child.
Winifred was content to be alone. It was easier that way. With a shake of her head to push away wavering certainty, she stepped over the croft's threshold.
"Winifred?" a voice called some distance away.
She stiffened, breath catching in her throat, not daring to look. He had followed?
Go inside! Bar the door! Pretend I am not at home!
Her body refused to follow her mind's advice.
And then the scuff of a boot heel against hard packed earth announced his presence behind her. "My lady."
Too late. And she did not, would not, hide from anything or anyone. She turned to face him, bidding him speak with an inclination of her head only, features smooth of any betraying emotion, an errant breeze blowing a lock of raven hair across her cheek and against her lips.
"I want-- I need-- tell me, Winifred, what shall I not make you regret?" Hrothbert asked, stepping close enough to touch.
There. His voice was gentle once more. She could have withstood arrogance.
She was nearly undone.
The Council's machinations be damned. She'd chosen not to betray him for a promised chance to gain favor. He was, by his own actions and interests, on the outer fringes of wizard society. And now so would she be (more than ever) in choosing to side with him. She disliked politics at any rate.
He meant something else altogether, however. Winifred took a deep breath, choosing once more, eyes searching for his. "Losing my heart."
She trembled at the risk she was taking.
He whispered, "Look at me." And she knew what he was offering.
Blue eyes tinged with violet met hers and she fell into them, much too late to turn away. In the space of a moment, she knew him, the soulgaze sweeping away any lingering barriers. She knew his doubts and insecurities, strengths and weaknesses, understood his pride, saw him stripped of finery or any trappings of power, saw into a heart tender and easily broken, felt his burning, unquenchable thirst for knowledge. The furthest corners of his soul were laid bare; and just when she thought the intensity, the intimacy, were unbearable, the connection broke and she sagged against him, heart thudding, wondering what her soul had revealed in return.
"Never will I give you cause for regret, Winifred," Hrothbert said so forcefully, so intently, that she straightened with a blink. "Never," he said again, soft and low, fingers slipping through her hair and lightly brushing over her cheekbone, sparking a tingling rush of pleasure like wildfire under her skin.
"Kiss me, then, Hrothbert," Winifred replied, for that was all she wanted now--to feel his lips against hers, to taste him, touch him, hold him.
With a groan, he gathered her fully into his arms and kissed her with such tenderness and passion--and she him--that the bundle of flowers fell, forgotten, from her grasp in a shower of petals that fluttered away on the wind.