ONIUM | Open Novella Contest 2020

Chapter 13: Come at Me

Quinnley glowered in her saddle as she rode a sturdy black and white mare behind Vivian. She crossed her arms and huffed, leaning against her full saddlebags in protest.

If their time in Midest's marketplace was a date, it ended badly.

First they had argued over how to get to the Royal City. Quinnley wanted the ease of proper roads while Vivian preferred the safety of the forest. Since she was the most experienced out of the two, the princess won the argument.

Next they argued about Quinnley's choice of travel clothing. The girl insisted on wearing skirts and dresses instead of something practical like breeches. Apparently it was an insult to her womanhood to suggest she wear men's clothing. Vivian threw her hands up in frustration and gave in.

Apparently, the choice in horse was the last straw between them. When Vivian put her foot down as the financier, Quinnley settled into the silence of her childish tantrum.

The princess was almost glad for the silence, still trying to understand why she was so drawn to Quinnley. She wanted the girl in ways she had never wanted another before, man or woman.

As the day began to wane, and Vivian stopped to set up camp. She busied herself gathering wood and settling out her bedroll while Quinnley watched on. "Surely you don't expect me to do yours too," chided the princess.

The other woman slid off her horse and prepared her own belongings, as far away from Vivian as possible. When she was finished, a dagger thudded into the ground at her feet. "What is this for Ian?" She asked.

"I'm not going to be able to plan unless I know what skills you have, how you handle situations. You say you survived alone on the streets, yet you are hardly capable of taking care of yourself unless you can manipulate others. Did your Gift spoil you that much?"

The witch bristled at the accusation. "I don't need to know how to wield a knife, I have my staff."

Vivian crossed her arms. "Your precious staff is too unwieldy to take with you. A knife is less noticeable and more useful in close combat. You did want me to get you into the palace without attracting attention. I won't help knowing I'm sending you in there defenseless."

"I have my Gift." Quinnley was being stubborn.

"The magic you have no control over? You can't trust your Gift to protect you every time."

"Fine," Quinnley said, feeling chastised. Anger laced her tone as she pulled the knife from the ground.

"Come at me." The princess's confidence was annoying Quinnley to no end.

The witch attacked, aiming right for Vivian's side, only to find herself stumbling on the ground with a short stick touching her neck.

"Dead," Vivian said.

Quinnley whirled in anger, lashing out at her opponent blindly. Her blows were wild and powerful, but not one reached it's target. Each dodging step Vivian took was fluid and confident. She touched Quinnley with a stick in between her slashes, repeating the incessant word 'dead' in her ear.

Frustration bubbled just beneath the surface as Quinnley dropped her dagger and marched over to her staff. She was going to show Sir Ian that she was not someone to be messed with.

Vivian quirked an eyebrow at the change in weapon. Even holding the staff Quinnley didn't look confident, only angry. Her eyes glowered as a cute but determined pout crossed her features.

"Come at me," Quinnley mimicked, taking a weak stance.

The princess pounced, the stick's tip aimed at Quinnley's wrist. A sharp smack would teach the girl a lesson without injuring her. It was much less harsh than Vivian's own first dagger lesson had been.

"Braclum," Quinnley whispered a short protection charm, throwing Vivian backwards onto the ground by an invisible force. The Gifted girl placed on hand on her hip, smiling haughtily as the princess picked herself back up. "And you said I have no control."

"Is that how you survived the blast and the fall from the inn in Midest? I thought it was some miracle."

Quinnley shrugged, glad to have stripped Ian of his confidence. "I kept a little to myself just in case."

Vivian eyed the staff warily as if just realizing how dangerous a Gifted truly was. "I still think you should carry a dagger and know how to use it. It's too easy to rely on one method to protect yourself. A smart enemy will figure out your weakness soon enough. Don't forget that much more powerful Gifted than yourself were killed."

The witch's eyes narrowed in anger. "Care to try and best me, then?"

Vivian's expression remained neutral, then suddenly she was inside Quinnley's open guard before the girl even had the time to think of casting a spell.

Quinnley stumbled backwards to try and create space between them. Her skirt got tangled in her legs sending them both tumbling to the ground, Vivian on top of Quinnley as the stick in Vivian's hand rested on her collarbone.

"Dead," came Vivian's breathless whisper, the first to realise the position they were in.

The witch blushed furiously and tried to get up but Vivian was having none of it.  "Did you vent enough to stop pouting like a child? " The princess asked. "This is never going to work if you won't listen to me and keep acting like a child. It is not a game."

Quinnley was speechless as she eyed the princess's serious face, the scar underneath her eye drawing her gaze to Ian's softer jawline and the hard line of his mouth. The temperature between them skyrocketed, causing both to sweat for reasons that had nothing to do with sparring.

The princess's breath hitched as Quinnley's tongue flicked out to wet her lips. The action broke a dam in Vivian's self-control, and she leaned forward to claim what her body wanted since that first night in the Baker's Dime.

Sparks flew when their lips touched, igniting a passion that made Quinnley tangle her fingers through Vivian's hair. The princess tired to pull away, only for the other girl to trail kisses down her neck.

Quinnley soon became the more aggressive of the two, pulling her sparring partner down to smash her lips against Vivian's hungrily as they hugged each other in an unbreakable embrace.

The kiss was languid and deep, each exploring the other with a give and take that curled Vivian's toes. She didn't know it was possible to feel so complete and lost at the same time.

Quinnley's tongue slipped between Vivian's lips, drawing a moan out of the princess that she quickly stifled. Did men moan? The sound didn't bother Quinnley, whose hands began to wander as she tried to deepen the kiss.

Vivian pulled away with reluctant self control, reminding herself that no desire was worth her identity being revealed. She captured Quinnley's hands in her own, gently placing them together before standing.

Quinnley touched her red lips in awe, all of her previous anger lost to lust. "You're a man," she whispered in disbelief.

Vivian ignored the comment, hoping it wasn't some dig about Ian's maturity. She retrieved her dagger, focusing in its familiar weight as she tired to control her breathing. Vivian touched her own lips in wonder. She was falling too fast. The princess craved the girl's touch as much as she was fulfilled by Quinnley's awkward antics and misplaced trust.

All of her father's lessons on the subject left her completely unprepared for the pleasurable energy that hummed in her veins. She was no stranger to intimate acts, learning and imitating them was part of her training as a female chaos agent. Kissing and touching her father's men was nothing compared to kissing Quinnley.

Unspoken feelings hung in the air between them, both understanding the dynamic of their relationship had again changed.

"We can't do that again." Quinnley said after a while. "I'm sorry Ian but I can't return your feelings. The personal reason I told you about. Its a person, a person I'm in love with."

Shame quickly followed the girl's statement. Vivian hadn't meant to pounce on the other girl like some uncontrollable beast. She knew firsthand how frightening unwanted intimacy could be.

"I see, I apologize for my forwardness." The princess ground out as her heart sunk to the ground.