[Odin Sphere] How Blood Flows
Title: How Blood Flows
Fandom: Odin Sphere
Pairing: Gwendolyn/Oswald
Rating: Light NC-17
Wordcount: 801
Notes: Spoilers for the end of the game.
Summary: Some first times can be difficult for people like Gwendolyn and Oswald.
In Gwendolyn's mind, love and sex were not related. Love was pure and fierce. Love had let her reclaim herself. Sex was a duty she had dreaded, for none of her fellow Valkyries had seemed to enjoy their demotion to wife, and she had been subjected to enough ugly leers to think of it as a dark and dirty thing.
Oswald was not followed by such issues, but still he was little better: he barely knew what sex was. It did not matter to him, so long as he had Gwendolyn.
They spent some weeks in the new world, alone together, sleeping next to each other, without ever asking each other for more. They had fought to save the world for each other's sake; what more could a little touching add to what they had?
But some things, they both knew, were a part of both love and sex. The overlap left Gwendolyn a little unsettled, but mostly warm when the nights were cold. She loved lying at her husband's side; she loved the kiss they exchanged each night before retiring to bed. She loved him, and everything about him, and that meant his body as well as his mind and his heart. Sometimes, when they exchanged that lovely kiss, she felt a strange warmth. Sometimes, it spread through all her body.
Both of them could only hold out pure and chaste for so long. Eventually, the idea crept into Gwendolyn's head: perhaps pure and chaste was not such a good thing after all. Perhaps it was not the relief she had once thought it was. Perhaps the relief would come when she slipped from her armor and pulled Oswald from his, and then--
And then what?
Then, she decided, they would begin to try to bring a child into the reborn world. It was best to think of it that way for now. She wasn't sure yet how else to think of it. Could it truly be something she would enjoy for its own sake? Then again, a part of her thought, that was a silly question. This was with Oswald. She would enjoy it, because it was him.
They still had not managed to rebuild a home for themselves. They were too busy traveling, seeking other survivors and investigating this new world. But they'd recently found a comfortable cave, and Gwendolyn set about making it more comfortable. It did not occur to her to bring flowers, but that was all right, since it would not have occurred to Oswald either. She only made sure that there was a comfortable place on the ground big enough for both of them, and then some. She was not sure how much space they would need.
Oswald returned from gathering food just in time to see her finish spreading the moss and leaves. "Gwendolyn," he said in shock. She turned to look at him, and she knew by the hesitant expression on his face, by the red that colored his cheeks, that he understood what she wanted to do. They had become good at understanding each other.
"If you are not ready," she said, "we need not do a thing. We can sleep again tonight in peace."
"No," he said. "'Tis time we knew each other this way."
She took his hand and drew him to her.
The strangest part, she decided as they carefully removed each other's armor (as they had done for many nights now; but this time they also removed the shifts underneath, and that was not something they had done to--no, with each other before), was the blood. She knew blood would spill when he pressed inside her, and she was ready for that, because spilling blood had been her life once, and it was only appropriate that it should follow her a little now. The strange part was how blood pulsed within them. She was not used to blood behaving so strangely within the body--how it rose to her cheeks and flowed between his legs, all the while never staining the ground.
She looked into his eyes, and she could see he was uncertain and confused as well--and oddly hesitant. "Gwendolyn," he whispered. "This will hurt you."
"I have chosen this," she said. "If pain could sway me so, I would not be at your side now."
He lay her down, or perhaps she sank down to the ground and dragged him with her. She could no longer tell the difference--
--and then, for a moment, she could not tell the difference between the pain and the pleasure. He started to pull away as she winced, but she held onto him. "I want this," she said. "Oswald."
"Then," he said, fumbling for words, "let us proceed."
It sounded romantic enough to Gwendolyn. She gratefully proceeded.
Fandom: Odin Sphere
Pairing: Gwendolyn/Oswald
Rating: Light NC-17
Wordcount: 801
Notes: Spoilers for the end of the game.
Summary: Some first times can be difficult for people like Gwendolyn and Oswald.
In Gwendolyn's mind, love and sex were not related. Love was pure and fierce. Love had let her reclaim herself. Sex was a duty she had dreaded, for none of her fellow Valkyries had seemed to enjoy their demotion to wife, and she had been subjected to enough ugly leers to think of it as a dark and dirty thing.
Oswald was not followed by such issues, but still he was little better: he barely knew what sex was. It did not matter to him, so long as he had Gwendolyn.
They spent some weeks in the new world, alone together, sleeping next to each other, without ever asking each other for more. They had fought to save the world for each other's sake; what more could a little touching add to what they had?
But some things, they both knew, were a part of both love and sex. The overlap left Gwendolyn a little unsettled, but mostly warm when the nights were cold. She loved lying at her husband's side; she loved the kiss they exchanged each night before retiring to bed. She loved him, and everything about him, and that meant his body as well as his mind and his heart. Sometimes, when they exchanged that lovely kiss, she felt a strange warmth. Sometimes, it spread through all her body.
Both of them could only hold out pure and chaste for so long. Eventually, the idea crept into Gwendolyn's head: perhaps pure and chaste was not such a good thing after all. Perhaps it was not the relief she had once thought it was. Perhaps the relief would come when she slipped from her armor and pulled Oswald from his, and then--
And then what?
Then, she decided, they would begin to try to bring a child into the reborn world. It was best to think of it that way for now. She wasn't sure yet how else to think of it. Could it truly be something she would enjoy for its own sake? Then again, a part of her thought, that was a silly question. This was with Oswald. She would enjoy it, because it was him.
They still had not managed to rebuild a home for themselves. They were too busy traveling, seeking other survivors and investigating this new world. But they'd recently found a comfortable cave, and Gwendolyn set about making it more comfortable. It did not occur to her to bring flowers, but that was all right, since it would not have occurred to Oswald either. She only made sure that there was a comfortable place on the ground big enough for both of them, and then some. She was not sure how much space they would need.
Oswald returned from gathering food just in time to see her finish spreading the moss and leaves. "Gwendolyn," he said in shock. She turned to look at him, and she knew by the hesitant expression on his face, by the red that colored his cheeks, that he understood what she wanted to do. They had become good at understanding each other.
"If you are not ready," she said, "we need not do a thing. We can sleep again tonight in peace."
"No," he said. "'Tis time we knew each other this way."
She took his hand and drew him to her.
The strangest part, she decided as they carefully removed each other's armor (as they had done for many nights now; but this time they also removed the shifts underneath, and that was not something they had done to--no, with each other before), was the blood. She knew blood would spill when he pressed inside her, and she was ready for that, because spilling blood had been her life once, and it was only appropriate that it should follow her a little now. The strange part was how blood pulsed within them. She was not used to blood behaving so strangely within the body--how it rose to her cheeks and flowed between his legs, all the while never staining the ground.
She looked into his eyes, and she could see he was uncertain and confused as well--and oddly hesitant. "Gwendolyn," he whispered. "This will hurt you."
"I have chosen this," she said. "If pain could sway me so, I would not be at your side now."
He lay her down, or perhaps she sank down to the ground and dragged him with her. She could no longer tell the difference--
--and then, for a moment, she could not tell the difference between the pain and the pleasure. He started to pull away as she winced, but she held onto him. "I want this," she said. "Oswald."
"Then," he said, fumbling for words, "let us proceed."
It sounded romantic enough to Gwendolyn. She gratefully proceeded.