Poem 5 - The End
Title: Poem 5 (High D'Haran Love Poetry 13/13) - The End! The Epilogue!
Author: Alsike
Fandom: LotS
Rating: Rish?
Pairing: Berdine/Raina
Disclaimer: Not mine, and as always the poems belong to Catullus.
Word Count: ~850
Summary: Mord'Sith have no ease in love. Well, not much, but some.
Raina let out a long pained moan as her body, small and muscular, moved on the thin leather mat, back arching, head tilting back. Her skin was flame hot, even exposed to the chill night air. Berdine pressed a quick kiss to her neck, under her ear, and felt the quiver as Raina came to release. Raina tugged on her braid until she leaned down close enough to be kissed.
“No blood,” she said softly.
Berdine nodded. Her lover was never anything but fierce, yet this time it had started with lazy touches as Berdine had finished her watch and slipped into the bedroll, fingers questing under leather, gentle nips and long wet kisses. It was unlike anything Berdine had experienced before, but she had done her best to return the favor.
“I…” She sighed. “I have been broken by you, and you will not claim me.”
“I have been broken as many times by you.”
“Then you are mine,” Raina said briefly, but firmly. “And I belong just as much to you.”
“I will claim you.” Berdine nuzzled into her cheek. “You are mine. And I belong to you.”
Raina bit her lip, her expression worried, but still determined. She leaned in, biting lightly at Berdine’s cheek. Berdine nipped hers in return, and the tension faded away.
“White leather tomorrow?” Berdine asked softly.
“Unless you wish to shame me.”
“I will never wish to shame my mate.”
“Good.” Raina curled around her fiercely and protected her with the heat of her body.
* * *
After the fight with Sinnach the rumor made its way around the temple and most of the city that Mistress Berdine had taken one of the Mord’Sith from the Mountain temple as her mate. Laughter and cruel comments were the norm. Cara and Hally moaned enough about it in private, but they had the right, since they drove the noses of anyone they heard talking about it into the dirt.
Cara just couldn’t understand why on earth one would ever take a mate, and wrinkled her nose as if she smelt something bad whenever she thought of it. “How can you be so comfortable? If she’s a Mord’Sith you can’t trust her, and if she isn’t, she isn’t worth wanting.”
Berdine had just smirked at this, mainly because Cara was still sporting a rather emphatic black eye as a result of Raina’s training. “I think you’re jealous.”
Cara scowled, and slouched next to her, until Raina came in. Then she straightened nervously. “Mistress,” she greeted her, abjectly. Berdine cuffed her head.
The Lord Rahl seemed rather amused by the whole thing. “Really, Berdine? Wasting your white leather on a female?” He stood with his pelvis outthrust as if to demonstrate the better option.
Berdine schooled her expression to not appear utterly disgusted by him. She faked a smile. “I believe your ancestress, the Lady Morrigan Rahl, took a woman as her mate, a Mord’Sith, if I have not misread the texts.” Berdine never misread the texts.
Lord Rahl looked annoyed. “That story is apocryphal.”
“The wizard Verm has extensive quotations of their letters in his work On Res Historica.”
Berdine probably shouldn’t have pushed it. She was certain it was his offense at her disputing his words that was behind Raina being promoted to head of the Basilisk squadron and sent on quite a few long, risky journeys.
But she came back, confident and successful, with a sly grin and a warm gaze for no one else. And Berdine was satisfied with that, for now.
* * *
“What are you reading?”
Berdine glanced up from her book. Raina dropped her sack of supplies inside the door and started unfastening her neck guard, greeting her with an easy smile. “Love poetry,” Berdine said wryly.
Raina laughed, dropping the guard on her sack and moving to sit on the bed so Berdine could unfasten the lacings on the back of her dusty, battle worn leathers. “Incorrigible.”
When her leathers had been stripped off, she leaned back, resting her head on Berdine’s shoulder. Berdine traced her nails through her hair, absently loosening the braid. Raina sighed, nuzzling into her. “Read to me?”
“Certainly.”
Berdine read, but before she had finished a page, she heard Raina’s breathing level out and the soft whistling from her nose that indicated she was asleep. She smiled, running her thumb along sleek hair, and, unashamed, kissed the top of her head gently.
“Sleep well, my darling.”
* * *
Let us live, my dear, and let us love,
And let us count all the whispers of severe old men
As worth a single penny!
The suns can rise and retire:
For us, the occasions of light come but briefly,
And night is one perpetual sleep.
So give me a thousand kisses, and then a hundred,
Then another thousand, then a second hundred,
And then another thousand more, then another hundred,
Then, when we have made so many thousands,
Let us confound them, so that not even we know,
Nor can anyone who envies us do us evil,
By knowing the number of our kisses.
Author: Alsike
Fandom: LotS
Rating: Rish?
Pairing: Berdine/Raina
Disclaimer: Not mine, and as always the poems belong to Catullus.
Word Count: ~850
Summary: Mord'Sith have no ease in love. Well, not much, but some.
Raina let out a long pained moan as her body, small and muscular, moved on the thin leather mat, back arching, head tilting back. Her skin was flame hot, even exposed to the chill night air. Berdine pressed a quick kiss to her neck, under her ear, and felt the quiver as Raina came to release. Raina tugged on her braid until she leaned down close enough to be kissed.
“No blood,” she said softly.
Berdine nodded. Her lover was never anything but fierce, yet this time it had started with lazy touches as Berdine had finished her watch and slipped into the bedroll, fingers questing under leather, gentle nips and long wet kisses. It was unlike anything Berdine had experienced before, but she had done her best to return the favor.
“I…” She sighed. “I have been broken by you, and you will not claim me.”
“I have been broken as many times by you.”
“Then you are mine,” Raina said briefly, but firmly. “And I belong just as much to you.”
“I will claim you.” Berdine nuzzled into her cheek. “You are mine. And I belong to you.”
Raina bit her lip, her expression worried, but still determined. She leaned in, biting lightly at Berdine’s cheek. Berdine nipped hers in return, and the tension faded away.
“White leather tomorrow?” Berdine asked softly.
“Unless you wish to shame me.”
“I will never wish to shame my mate.”
“Good.” Raina curled around her fiercely and protected her with the heat of her body.
* * *
After the fight with Sinnach the rumor made its way around the temple and most of the city that Mistress Berdine had taken one of the Mord’Sith from the Mountain temple as her mate. Laughter and cruel comments were the norm. Cara and Hally moaned enough about it in private, but they had the right, since they drove the noses of anyone they heard talking about it into the dirt.
Cara just couldn’t understand why on earth one would ever take a mate, and wrinkled her nose as if she smelt something bad whenever she thought of it. “How can you be so comfortable? If she’s a Mord’Sith you can’t trust her, and if she isn’t, she isn’t worth wanting.”
Berdine had just smirked at this, mainly because Cara was still sporting a rather emphatic black eye as a result of Raina’s training. “I think you’re jealous.”
Cara scowled, and slouched next to her, until Raina came in. Then she straightened nervously. “Mistress,” she greeted her, abjectly. Berdine cuffed her head.
The Lord Rahl seemed rather amused by the whole thing. “Really, Berdine? Wasting your white leather on a female?” He stood with his pelvis outthrust as if to demonstrate the better option.
Berdine schooled her expression to not appear utterly disgusted by him. She faked a smile. “I believe your ancestress, the Lady Morrigan Rahl, took a woman as her mate, a Mord’Sith, if I have not misread the texts.” Berdine never misread the texts.
Lord Rahl looked annoyed. “That story is apocryphal.”
“The wizard Verm has extensive quotations of their letters in his work On Res Historica.”
Berdine probably shouldn’t have pushed it. She was certain it was his offense at her disputing his words that was behind Raina being promoted to head of the Basilisk squadron and sent on quite a few long, risky journeys.
But she came back, confident and successful, with a sly grin and a warm gaze for no one else. And Berdine was satisfied with that, for now.
* * *
“What are you reading?”
Berdine glanced up from her book. Raina dropped her sack of supplies inside the door and started unfastening her neck guard, greeting her with an easy smile. “Love poetry,” Berdine said wryly.
Raina laughed, dropping the guard on her sack and moving to sit on the bed so Berdine could unfasten the lacings on the back of her dusty, battle worn leathers. “Incorrigible.”
When her leathers had been stripped off, she leaned back, resting her head on Berdine’s shoulder. Berdine traced her nails through her hair, absently loosening the braid. Raina sighed, nuzzling into her. “Read to me?”
“Certainly.”
Berdine read, but before she had finished a page, she heard Raina’s breathing level out and the soft whistling from her nose that indicated she was asleep. She smiled, running her thumb along sleek hair, and, unashamed, kissed the top of her head gently.
“Sleep well, my darling.”
* * *
Let us live, my dear, and let us love,
And let us count all the whispers of severe old men
As worth a single penny!
The suns can rise and retire:
For us, the occasions of light come but briefly,
And night is one perpetual sleep.
So give me a thousand kisses, and then a hundred,
Then another thousand, then a second hundred,
And then another thousand more, then another hundred,
Then, when we have made so many thousands,
Let us confound them, so that not even we know,
Nor can anyone who envies us do us evil,
By knowing the number of our kisses.