Nor Wit nor Reason Can My Passion Hide

An attendant left a new dress at the door as the sun was starting to lower. She hadn't an idea on what to wear to her dinner, but his dress was sent with a note from Durai. The note read: "Waiting not too patiently for tonight. I hope you like the dress."

She unfurled the folded dress and the beauty of the designs and softness of the silken fabric took her breath away. It was sleek and black with gold embroidered floral designs very much like her Healer's mark. The gesture made with this detail was incredibly romantic, and she smiled widely. The fabric had the same alluring heaviness that she had come to adore, and every detail of the gown made the meticulous attention to detail apparent.

She put the gown on right away; she couldn't contain her excitement. The neckline was considerably lower than even the low neckline she was slowly getting used to in the palace. Her face turned white because she knew this was dangerous...for both of them. And there were very loose, short bell sleeves on this dress, and she wasn't used to having her arms so exposed. Her skin got goosebumps as a breeze blew in. The cut of this dress was even more form-hugging than her previous outfits. She knew that this was an insanely seductive dress designed very intentionally. She stopped at her reflection in the mirror as if making some kind of decision.

She knew what was proper, but she knew what she wanted. She knew that people would talk, and she tried very hard to care about that. But she didn't; not enough to stop. Not enough to keep her from going to the small vanity in her wash room to put extra detail into decorating her hair to fall in lose waves around her exposed arms and add the paint of vivid plants to enhance her facial features. Not enough to keep her from walking through the doors of her room and walk the hall to temptation and almost certain wickedness.

…..............

Before she even came to the front of the intricately decorated doors to Durai's room, the doors seemingly on their own opened before her. The sun outside had just barely started to disappear beyond the horizon in the west, but the front living quarters were completely dark. She tried to be brave and show confidence, but she stepped inside slowly and timidly. The doors closed gently behind her.

She realized that the darkness of the front living quarters wasn't complete, but there were candles giving off beautiful glows. Many candles all over, and she was able to see quite well with only a moment's adjustments. She saw no one amongst the furnishings and flickering candlelight, but she did see a brighter glow towards another set of rooms and moved towards it.

It wasn't a room, but it was an outside foyer filled with many creeping, flowered vines along the walls, other bushes of vivid flora in bots along the patio, and furnishings. Her eyes widened with delightful surprise at the view. His view was not like hers of the rising sun, but his outdoor faced the sun's setting. The dying light that flirted with night was so incredibly beautiful painting the clouds with pink and orange and deep gold. A more beautiful sight couldn't possibly be dreamed.

Althea felt Durai come up behind her before he spoke a word. "I don't believe I've ever had my view this beautiful," he whispered in a deep voice that penetrated deep within her. She closed her eyes and tried to compensate for her heart in her stomach making her legs week. Was this what swooning was? She felt his hands slide down the length of her long hair and run his fingers through the full waves of it. He too closed his eyes to relish the sensation.

He had watched her intently for this past week. The way she walked was almost like a glide; people could even mistake her for an Enchanter with her weightless grace if it weren't for her dazzling mark wrapping about her ankles. He was always fascinated by the Healer's mark. No other people Magically gifted had a physical manifestation to brand them like the healers did. And of all the marks he had noticed and marveled at over the years, hers was the most vivid, the most stunning, and the most intricately alluring. He watched as she worked with the Queen's brother, how she innocently wandered the castle to slowly learn each room and hall, how seductively she ate her food (though she wasn't doing so intentionally), and how she seemed to exist in music. Every time she spoke, every time she breathed, he heard music and was under her spell. In every action she was sublime, and he longed to discover more of her. Even more than knowing, he was tremulant over the promise of the journey of discovering.

And deep in her being, she yearned to be discovered.

..............

Of course the food was delicious and the setting sun painted light of sublime poetry over the scene of their meal in the foyer. They hardly even remembered the automated act of eating. There had been no awkward small talk to cover the moment in pretense. In the past week they had done nothing but talked. They talked at meals, talked on their walks, and talked before parting to their separate rooms. The more they had talked and swam in each other's words and thoughts and intellect, the more they knew now that this moment together and finally alone was not a time for more of the same.

Instead, they read each other silently, something that would appear awkward or utterly foolish to those outside the world of their trades. If they had done such an act in the presence of the court's nobility or even the Queen or her brother, they would be utterly confused while feeling inexplicably exposed and embarrassed. They spoke without speaking and heard without words. They reached out with their bodies unmoving to read the world deep in the other's eyes. They extended their aura to mingle in the air with the aura of the other. He discarded his veneer of nobility to let her enticing intensity come into him and fill every part of him. She let go over her doubts, her hesitation, and her social propriety to let in the sensations of his palpable earnest hunger.

They didn't even remember getting up from their meal and coming inside into the darkness and candlelight, but they were there still reading each other sitting within the reach of an outstretched arm together.

Durai extended his hand with his palm facing upward. A stream of softly glowing light seemed to be born of it and dance and bend in streams of blue and green. And from the light's bending, beautiful ballet an object appeared. Durai took the object in both hands and the light blew away into the air leaving behind the scent of rain. It was a thin, glimmering necklace made of a delicate golden chain and a pale not quite blue but not quite white stone intricately shaped like the flower of her Healer's mark.

"Angeltite," Althea whispered in breathless delight.

"The rare, resplendent gemstone of Healing." Durai stretched the chain wide and leaned into her to fasten the necklace behind her neck. She breathed deep his scent and felt his heat, and he breathed deep all of her in the act as well. She was like the earth alive in the awakening blossom of spring, and he bowed his head in agony.

"Althea," Durai began. He rarely called her by name; he usually said "My Lady" in his noble propriety. Hearing her name in his voice was like a drug, and she didn't know how much more she could take. "Althea, I want very much to kiss you. Not any small kiss either. I'm not asking for a gentle flutter before speaking goodnight. I want to KISS you, Althea. I want to kiss you deeply. But," He stopped for a moment as if in battle of some great torment, "I'm surely afraid." Althea looked at him both confused and exasperated; she too was in great torment. He brought his face inches from hers as his hands slowly left behind her neck and made their way down her bare, exposed arms slowly.

"I'm afraid, Althea, that if I kiss you now. I'll never stop. Not tonight, not ever. What would you think of me then? Could I even bear the scorch of your light without burning?"

He didn't wait for an answer or reaction from Althea. He barely waited for the completion of his own sentence. He took her deep in his arms and didn't merely kiss her, he was consuming her. His arms embraced her completely and explored every inch of her back. She smelled of flowers even so far as tasting them in her lips. Each second within their embrace with their lips together was like sparks from fireworks at a festival. The more Durai had her, the more he wanted more, the more he desperately needed more.

And his fervor was matched in her. Her surprise at his speed lasted less than a moment as she participated fully in their dance. Durai's hands behind Althea clenched fistfuls of her dress, and he moved closer pressing his chest into her. He could feel her shallow, excited breathing which only spurred on his passions more.

His parted hungrily inviting hers to do the same. They were no longer two mouths kissing and two bodies caressing, they were merging their very souls in a heated, lustful surrender.

Durai broke away as if in great pain. His chest was heaving in breathlessness, and he watched the rise and fall of the revealing contours of her chest do the same. "I want you," he nearly panted, "so much."

"But…"Althea said grateful in a way that he broke off the lustful swelling of their passion before she was forced to. "But we can't. Not now. Not yet."

Durai clenched his eyes shut happy that she understood so he didn't have to explain, but also in agony over the sudden cessation of coming so close to every fantasy he had since laying eyes on her in that modest hut.

"I know," she said. "Me too. Before I can't control myself any more, I better leave for my bed." Oh God! The mere mention of the words shot fire into her deeply and sensually, and Durai let out an honest moan that surprised him. She didn't rise to go, and he didn't rise to escort her. They sat there suffering together wondering if being wicked would be so bad.

After what seemed like an eternity, they rose together. They walked automatically to the door and exchanged parting words in place of a farewell kiss they knew would be the end of them.

Though neither would hardly sleep that night, they both dreamed of promising tomorrows and fantasized of what they both decided they had to have. The night was cooling unseasonably and wrapped their bodies in a welcomed cold. What had they unleashed?