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Demesne Patron EX SS 8 - Mikon Wants…
🕑 Added 2021-09-25 05:40:33 +0000 UTCA gentle wind blew from the river, making Mikon's skirt flap a little as she walked with Erzebed—she said call her Riz, but Mikon liked her full name—along the borders of the darkness, keeping company as she'd offered that first night. Try as he might, Lord Rian couldn't keep Erzebed company every night. Sometimes he was just too tired after working making her Bindership's new bed, weaving cords in a pattern he had obviously seen but never actually done himself. Sometimes it was because he had to go around talking to people, finding out what they needed, or mostly just reassuring them that their work was appreciated. Sometimes it was to have a discreet, quiet word with someone who thought no one would notice that while he could understand their frustration or tiredness or anger or need, doing what they had done would not be tolerated. There was always something, after all.
He did try to be there, and it wasn't like she didn't enjoy his company, but…
Well, sometimes one had to put aside their desires to attain… other desires.
Lord Rian was busy that night, and as a result it was just the two of them. Umu, reliably dedicated Umu, wasn't there. After all, without Rian, what was the point? As a result, it was just the two of them, standing watch on the 'outside' border of the wall of darkness her Bindership had begun to raise around the laundry area every night. There really wasn't much to protect against, but her Bindership had ordered it, so there Erzebed was. To their left, they could hear the splashing of water, the occasional shocked scream of some being surprised by a sudden cold gust, the laughter of children, the sounds of mother, aunt and sisters telling them to take a bath or else they'd get sick, and the firm, authoritative voice of Karina telling the other children to behave because they had work to do tomorrow.
Mikon sometimes had to wonder if Binder Lori—and she had finally become used to being able to think of the Dungeon Binder as someone she actually knew and not just a name and string of titles—believed that men became lust-filled brutes at the sight of womanly flesh and children. It would certainly explain a lot. Her Bindership never said it, never accused anyone of anything besides being idiots in general when she was impatient with them, but it was hard not to notice the pattern.
No one seemed to be doing anything idiotic that night. There were the usual people sitting under the aqueducts to cut the wind and cuddling for warmth, but they seemed content to stay in place, enjoying an end to the day's work and no horrible prospects coming after them in the days to come. Under the light of the moons—the blue, pale, storm and red moons were all out, filling the world with their different lights—with the wind in their hair and their lazy walking pace, it was almost romantic.
A pity her companion didn't seem to realize that.
"You don't have to keep walking with me," Erzebed said. She swung her arms when she walked, moving with an aggressive confidence. She walked like… well, a militiawoman, confidently claiming her own little demesne with her arms.
"I said I'd keep you company so you didn't have to be alone and I meant it," Mikon said, her hands behind her back, a languid smile on her face as she enjoyed looking at what little she could see.
"You're up to something, I know you are," Erzebed accused, giving her a sideways look. "I don't know what, but you are."
Of course she was.
"Why can't I be nice?" Mikon said, her smile unchanged, innocent and teasing. "You're not a terrible person, and I don't think I am either. Why wouldn't I do something nice for you?"
"You know why," Erzebed said pointedly.
"That has nothing to do with keeping you company," Mikon said. "Is my presence so objectionable? I mean, you've sat next to me so many times that I thought we got along well enough."
Erzebed exhaled. Loudly. "Well, don't think this means we're friends," the militiawoman grumbled.
Mikon just smiled. "So, how was your day so far?"
Erzebed sighed, tiredly running her hand through her hair, a darker shade of pink than Mikon's own. "We should be done building soon, so we'll finally have houses again. A few of us are thinking of going hunting tomorrow, get some more meat. Lord Rian will probably let us, since he'll want the down for that thing he's having you make for the Great Binder… "
Mikon nodded, listening to Erzebed unburdening herself. While the militiawoman had many friends, many were militia and apparently just talking about your frustration wasn't something one just did unless there was booze involved.
It wasn't much, but it was all Mikon had, so she went with it. They walked, and Mikon listened, nodding and making sympathetic sounds, the she kept her replies to a minimum. She heard about the lack of ladders and how they weren't a priority, since everyone knew how to climb and there were stairs already completed. How much it ached to have to keep a plank still while someone with a saw cut it so it would slip into a joint and lock in place. There was a diatribe about people who could just measure and cut on the ground, why did she have to be the one to hold it, she could have been doing something else, why didn't Malobi do it, he was taller and he was just standing around…
At one point, Mikon gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder after a particular vehement diatribe about a lack of ladders—Erzebed was still very annoyed about that—accompanied by a sympathetic, "that sounds very frustrating". Her arm hadn't been rebuffed this time. Sometimes it was, when Erzebed was in a mood or feeling competitive. There'd be a glance, a pointed look, and Mikon would have to politely step back for the rest of the night, and maybe until breakfast.
As Mikon listened and nodded, trying to decide when would be a good time to try moving her hand to the other shoulder, a part of her couldn't help but note she was still very bad at this. Her experiences with flirting had mostly consisted of telling boys, the occasional girl, and—once she had reached her womanhood—men who should know better some variation of 'no', in increasingly less polite ways.
She felt a bit more sympathetic to those boys and girls now (though not to the men, many of whom had been twice her age).
The few times she'd said 'yes' were not helpful (especially since they obviously hadn't lasted very long) in helping her understand in hindsight why she'd done so, beyond 'they were nice', 'they weren't pushy' and 'they didn't only stare at her chest'. Those weren't helpful. She'd never stared at Erzebed's chest once!
She closed her eyes before they went below the neckline and nodded in agreement as Erzebed complained about sawdust going down her neck and back. That didn't sound like fun, not at all. Yes, the one who did it was definitely an idiot. Ah, it had gotten into your eye too? Terrible, simply terrible…
Occasionally, the militiawoman would stop her ranting to stick her head through the barrier of darkness, checking if people were still bathing. No one was sitting in the basins of warm water, thank goodness, but a few were taking their time, occasionally pouring hot water on themselves to stay warm. The water seemed endless, another sign of her Bindership's power and grudging generosity. Was this what it was like for the people living in the centers of demesne? In the Dungeons and Cities near them? She'd seen other wizards do such things before, but their magic had been small. Limited. Afterwards they'd been wheezing like a grandfather climbing up the stairs…
They continued their walk, and Erzebed continued her tirade. The seemingly constant jabbing of elbows, knees and shoulders in the shelter where they had to sleep until the new houses were finished. There Mikon's sympathies were more heartfelt. She remembered those days, sleeping in the shelter. The constant light that wouldn't change no matter the time of day or night, and could only be covered by a lid some of the carpenters made and somehow put on the ceiling. Her Bindership's neglect, not caring to snuff out the lights when it came time to sleep. The fireplaces that needed wood, creating competition to have their children sleep as near the fire as possible.
A gust of wind blew, and Mikon took the chance, moving her hand to wrap around Erzebed's arm, pressing against her for warmth. The militiawoman glanced at the arm and smirked at her. "What, you're cold from the warm summer breeze?" she said, tone mocking.
"J-just surprised," Mikon sad, even as the tenseness between her shoulders and the shiver running through her betrayed her lie.
Erzebed smirked and shook her head. Then, to Mikon's dismay, gently untangled their arms and—
Mikon blinked as she felt Erzebed's arm go over her shoulder and pull her close. The hand was rubbing up and down her shoulder and bicep a bit roughly, but it was strangely warming. And the rest of the arm was rubbing over her upper back. "There, you feeling better?" Erzebed said, looking a little smug.
Mikon hesitated, then leaned in. "A bit warmer, yes. Thank you."
"You sure you don't want to go back inside? I think they're nearly done."
Indeed, the sounds of children and much of the splashing were gone, and only a low hum of conversation was left. From the occasional splashes and the swish of toweling, those remaining would likely be done soon.
"If you're only going to be here for a little bit longer, no need for me to go. I can stay until then. It's not like we have to wake up with the sun."
After all, there were no quotas to fill, no rent to pay… yet. And despite her threats, her Bindership seemed intent on delaying its return for as long as possible.
"Yeah, it's great," Erzebed agreed. In the dim light of the moons that her eyes had adjusted to, the other woman's gaze looked distant. Perhaps recalling her own unpleasantness. "I don't need to take orders from colorbrains anymore."
Mikon reached up and patted the hand on her shoulder in sympathy. Yes, her Bindership could be a little… strange. But her mind was sharp and clear. Jagged, with strange angles and thorns, but not colorbrained at all, to hear the things she and Rian talked about. Another sign of her neglect, that she didn't care they heard so long as they didn't try to talk to her unless spoken to.
They walked back and forth in front of the darkness a few more times in semblance of a patrol as the sounds of splashing gradually still, and there were no more sounds but the water flowing into the basins of the laundry area.
Erzebed leaned in to check, and Mikon bit back as sigh as the arm slipped off her shoulders, the hand she'd been stroking idly pulled from her grasp. "Well, that's it. No one else there," the militiawoman reported. "Job's done for the night."
Mikon couldn't help herself. "Do you think anyone waits for the women to get done bathing so they can sneak in there to, you know, while no one can see?"
"'Fuck', Mikon. The word you're looking for is 'fuck." Erzebed glanced sideways at the wall of darkness, completely impenetrable to their eyes. Then she turned away with feigned disinterest. "Not my job, not my problem," she declared with just a hint of finality.
Mikon blushed and hoped the other woman thought it was for the explicit language and not… actually, she was probably safe either way. She shrugged. "S-see you tomorrow, then," she said, trying not to sigh.
"You know, you really don't have to keep me company, Mikon. You really don't."
"I meant at breakfast," Her smile teasing as she crossed her arms. "Or are you not going to sit with us anymore tomorrow?"
"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Erzebed narrowed her eyes at the perceived challenge.
"Then I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then." Her tone was light as she winked
The northerner snorted. "I'm going to sleep before someone steals my blanket." She turned away, hesitated. "Good night, Mikon. Thanks for keeping me company."
"Any time," Mikon said, watching her go.
She let her gaze drift downward. No, never the chest. The other end, however…
On impulse, she headed for the Dungeon, still brightly lit even at night. Her Bindership's power seemed inexhaustible. How long before their humble hill was hollowed out into a true Dungeon?
Judging from the fact everyone ate on the first floor and Mikon worked on the second, probably a while yet.
She found them down there, spinning thread. Umu was using a spinning wheel, making thread with practice born of years. It hadn't taken long to get used to the fibers extracted from ropeweed, and already she and the other weavers could spin it as quickly as any other fiber.
Rian was using a distaff, clearly trying to keep himself from using both hands to handle the thread. His gaze was intent, even as he swayed slightly from tiredness. His spindle began to turn the wrong way, and he was just barely able to arrest it with Umu's warning, flushing in embarrassment as he did.
For a moment, Mikon considered joining them. Sitting next to Rian, showing him how it was done, forcing Umu to either seethe or sit closer as well…
She shook her head and headed for her family's house, hoping none of her cousins had grabbed her pillow and blanket to use for themselves. Or at least wouldn't put up much of a fight when she came to pry it off of them.
Mikon decided she'd do it another night. She had time, after all. She might be bad at this, but she was learning. She had incentive to learn. While her experiences with flirting had mostly consisted of dealing with boys, the occasional girl, and older man who should know better, she did know that the firmest refusals she had given were towards people who'd been too pushy.
She couldn't be pushy. She wanted this too much.
Mikon went to sleep, remembering that warmth over her shoulders.
