My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  "Caught a fast ship," she shrugged, then those umber eyes burned hard into Rosie's, "and I had good reason to get back fast."

  "I trust your mission ended well," Rosie asked, nearly pinching herself to keep professional. No doubt that was why the servant was sent skittering ahead as a warning. Did they have so little trust in her to maintain her composure?

  Anjali, part time ambassador and occasional assassin nodded. "It did." Another problem finished, permanently. Good.

  "And..." Rosie paused, her eyes darting up and down Anjali's beautiful face. She'd gained a new scar across her nose a few months back, but it was healing quickly until only a soft tan remained in its place. "Did you speak to your...contact?"

  The assassin winced, but her head began to slowly sway. "I did. She wasn't ecstatic to see me again, but...she didn't run me out of the village on sword point either. So...good news, I guess." Anjali absently reached down to the sword hanging on her hip. It was more for show than anything, the assassin defaulting to daggers when she was working. But a sword told people that the person carrying it was important. As if the golden necklace sporting rubies the size of fingernails and her fine, wool and silk clothing weren't enough of a tip off.

  For a beat, Rosie stared deep into Anjali's eyes and she returned the favor. A thousand unsaid words passed between the two women, Rosie aching to ask her about how her talk with her mother went, and also comfort her knowing that it couldn't have been easy. Coughing snapped her away, courtesy of the servant who remained to act as chaperone.

  "Thank you for your report, Ambassador," Rosie said with a tip of her head.

  Anjali placed her hands upon the grip of her sword and smiled, "My Majesty."

  A few of the visiting gentlemen chuckled, nearly everyone finding Anjali's honorific for the Princess humorous -- as if she confused two due to her native tongue. But Rosie knew the truth and she secretly smiled inside her fluttering stomach at it.

  "Gentlemen," Rosie clapped her hands, "how about a tour of the gardens? They're lovely this time of year!"

  * * *

  Hands shredded apart the buttons on the back of her dress, a warm palm scooping against her flesh and struggling to try and cup her ass. Rosie's lips refused to leave the sanctuary of Anjali's perfect mouth. She already had to forgo two months without them, any longer and they might whither away. Both stumbled through Rosie's apartments, emptied quickly with a single sentence: "The ambassador has returned."

  "Anjali," Rosie moaned, her lover making quick work to undo what took three handmaidens twenty minutes to cinch on. Her dress popped open fully at the back, all it needed was the princess to wiggle her arms out, but they were too full with the woman she missed incessantly.

  Her beautiful assassin lapped her tongue against Rosie's bottom lip before placing a quick kiss to her chin. Suddenly, Rosie's body shuddered as she realized she walked backwards straight into the side of her bed. "Oh, dear," she tried to steady herself to keep from falling when Anjali shrugged.

  Wrapping her hands around Rosie, Anjali hefted her up high and tossed her onto the bed. The entire time Rosie was laughing to herself, her short hair flying in the wind before she crash landed into the luxurious padding below. Laying back, Rosie watched Anjali pacing before her in anticipation, those glittering eyes honing in on the white skin of her shoulders that she exposed. Maker's breath, she ached to wrap her lips around Anjali's, to trace her fingers over the warm and dark temptation of her entire body.

  "Sapheela," Anjali moaned, the woman bending over and knuckle walking closer to Rosie. The princess squirmed in anticipation and rose up, her hands sliding through the assassin's knotted hair. When Anjali was fully straddling her, she paused and brought her forehead against Rosie's.

  "I've missed you more than..."

  Rosie placed her finger to Anjali's lips, "Not now. Later. I don't know how long the palace gardens can keep a bunch of men distracted."

  "Right to the begetting," Anjali snickered. She took a kiss from the depths of Rosie's soul before brushing her lips near her ear, "This is why I love you."

  Wrapping her hands around the back of Anjali, Rosie struggled to find the damn hidden buttons to free her from her blouse. She ached to cup Anjali's breasts in her palms, to tease her until the woman was squirming in delight. Anjali seemed to be of the same mind. While her lips plied apart Rosie's, her hands began to tug down the dress.

  With a sigh, Rosie let her hands fall off of Anjali in order to yank the damn dress off her. But her lover slowed in getting her naked and began to place a kiss to the top of her chest -- right into the indent at the bottom of her throat. Anjali hummed as she tasted Rosie, "So sweet."

  "So are you," Rosie moaned, her nose burying into the top of Anjali's head.

  Her assassin laughed, "I was on a ship for three weeks. I doubt it very much."

  "You are to me," Rosie insisted, taking in a deep whiff of the woman who owned her heart.

  "My Sapheela," Anjali murmured, her fingers curling over the dress' bodice. Slowly, she tugged it down, her lips pressing petal soft kisses to the tops of Rosie's breasts. Maker's breath, it felt wonderful. Each gentle touch of her lips was preceded by the awaking thrum of her knuckles dragging down the dress. Right before exposing her fully, Anjali paused and nestled her chin in the middle of Rosie's cleavage.

  Her umber eyes stared deep into Rosie's, and she whispered in Rivain, "I adore and worship every inch of your body."

  Rosie curled her hands around Anjali's head and answered back in the same tongue, "And I yours."

  With a great smile on her face, Anjali moved to tug down the dress, her lips following in place.

  "Whatcha doin?!"

  Both women dashed apart at the curious and innocent voice that nearly screamed in their ears. Rosie bundled her dress up higher, clutching it tight to her chest while Anjali rolled off her and nearly off the bed itself before she paused and looked back.

  Big brown eyes blinked at the side of the bed, her tiny nose hidden in the bedspread as she stared up at the princess doing her best to calm the erratic thrum of her startled heart. "Are you wrasslin'?" she asked, squaring her shoulders as if she should leap onto the bed and join in.

  "No!" Rosie shouted, "No, we're...uh," she looked back to Anjali who was staring at the far wall.

  "Hi Anji!" the girl shouted, a hand raising up to wave at the assassin.

  Snickering a moment, Anjali turned back and returned the wave. "Hello Lizzy."

  "Can we play? Mummy, I want to play!" her tiny hands bunched up the bedspread, attempting to drag it towards her.

  "That's..." Rosie tried to slow the beat in her jaw as her daughter remained fully unaware of what she snuck into. "Lizbeth, are you supposed to come into my room unannounced?"

  "Yees," she said, bouncing back and forth on her feet.

  "Lizzy."

  "No," she grumbled, her head turning down before her brown eyes darted towards the door. "But it's open. I can come in then." Blighted hell, she cursed to herself, not again. What was it with her and doors?

  Clearly finding it humorous now, Anjali began to snicker, her laugh causing her shoulders to tremble. Rosie wanted to prod her in the back and insist it wasn't funny, but...maybe it was, a little. Reaching over, Rosie curled her hand around her daughter's runaway hairs. There was always one small section on the side that stuck nearly straight up unless a great amount of paste was used. Demon horns, Rosie's father liked to call it, which Lizzy found hilarious.

  "Can we play, Mummy?" her daughter was back to her original question, putting on her best begging face.

  "This isn't really a great time," Rosie began, before Anjali interjected.

  "Why don't you go play with your father?"

  "He's...he's not here right now," the princess explained to her lover. Anjali caught her eyes a moment and shrugged. The comings and goings of the prince consort were none of her business as she kept on insisting.

  "But," Rosie reached over to scoop up Elizabeth and tic
kle her sides. Her daughter giggled and twisted to try and escape, while Rosie finished, "I bet you could get Pampy to play with you."

  "Pampy!" her daughter practically shouted. Her mother was fine, but when it came to someone to play with Pampy would always win. "Bye Mummy!" Lizzy cried while dashing headfirst out of the door. It swung forlornly on its hinges, failing to latch.

  Anjali snickered as she stood up to close the door properly and lock it. "Will the King not be busy?"

  "For his grand baby?" Rosie scoffed, "He used to gum up the works of the monarchy for us but for Lizbeth he'll all but throw Ferelden into chaos if she asks."

  After locking the door, Anjali pinched into her nose. "She's grown so much since I last saw her."

  "Like a weed. You should see Cailan's too."

  "Haven't they only been married a few months? How can there already be...?" Anjali began before she paused, "Ah, you mean the...what was the term you used?"

  "Early ones."

  "Better than illegitimate bastards, for certain." The assassin found their whole dancing around Cailan's coming into marriage with a few kids rather hilarious. Bastards were bastards as far as she was concerned. But bastard or no, any of the King's grandbabies were welcome with open arms and often while he sat on the ground and let them climb all over him.

  There was only one legitimate baby so far, Elizabeth -- second in line to the throne. Though Rosie...

  Anjali painted on a smile, her lips pecking against the back of Rosie's hand. Slowly, she worked her way across the princess' stubbornly clothed arm. It was silly, but it lightened the mood a bit after their unexpected interruption from reality. When her assassin reached Rosie's shoulder, she paused in her kisses and laid her cheek right against the princess' neck.

  "This was not how I pictured my return going," Anjali sighed, her breath waffling against Rosie's neck.

  "Children can," she sighed and shifted, "make things more difficult. No doubt. Tell me about your travels. What all did you see? Your letters are so deceptively cryptic at times..."

  "Because," Anjali cupped against her princess' cheek, "I prefer watching your eyes light up when I tell you in person."

  Rosie snickered a moment as she leaned closer. Her warm breath lanced across Anjali's slack lips a tip away from hers. "Though, when it comes to rather illicit matters you are exquisitely poetic."

  Those pillowy lips she'd dreamed about while laying in her lonely bed lifted in a smile. "You're not so bad yourself, your majesty. Some of the things you write, I'm amazed your quills don't start on fire."

  "It's why I have to store them in water just to be safe," Rosie whispered, leaning closer to fall back into a kiss, when Anjali suddenly sat up.

  "Wait, I do..." She dashed to the bag the assassin dropped mid-astride the princess. Rosie sat up on her knees to watch a few filthy shirts, a pile of socks, and a book all scatter onto her bed. "I have something for you. I don't know how I forgot, I was practically giddy to show you."

  "You? Giddy?" Rosie smirked. That seemed impossible from her cool assassin, but there was a hint of a blush churning upon her deep brown cheeks.

  "Ah," Anjali gasped as she pulled up a box perhaps a foot long and a few inches deep. When she lifted up the lid, it was Rosie's turn to gasp. Her fingers parted down the jet black cylinder that felt smoother than glass -- the knobby end swirled to form the head as it slightly curved inward.

  "What's it formed from?" Rosie asked, gently lifting the phallus out of the box and twisting it in the light.

  "Obsidian, with gold inlaid around the base there," she pointed towards the bottom. It wasn't just inlaid, the gold was carved and poured into the stone to bring alive a beautiful scene of a pride of lions surveying their dominion from beside a flat topped tree.

  "This is...beautiful," Rosie smiled, partially afraid to touch something so exquisite with her bare fingers. "All of the phalluses you find are."

  Anjali drew her fingers around it and plucked the newest find into her hand. With a wicked smile rising to her lips, she slid astride Rosie and stared right into the princess' eyes. "It has to be. Anything that dares to touch something so pure, so perfect, so...mesmerizing," she rifled her hand up Rosie's skirt, her fingers darting from the tops of her thighs right towards the princess' knickers. With a flick, Anjali tugged the edge aside and let her finger dip inside. "Nothing less than beautiful will do."

  Locking her hands around the back of Anjali's head, Rosie tugged her right to her lips for a kiss. She tasted of the sea, of all the miles that sat between them for far too long, of the promise of her return and how she -- and only she -- could string Rosie's body like a symphony. "I love you," she whispered, clinging tight to Anjali.

  "Okay," the woman paused in her kissing and leaned back. Her umber eyes stared deep into Rosie's, that were now darting around the room in confusion. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. I really want to try out your gift," Rosie began, but Anjali sighed and dropped it into the box.

  "Sapheela, by the shifting of the winds, I know when something is weighing on you. Your eyebrows begin to twitch like a mouse's nose."

  "What?" Rosie slapped her forehead, "They do not."

  Anjali snickered and sat beside her long time lover, "No, but you gave yourself away."

  Growling, Rosie piled her hands in her lap, "I hate when you do that assassin spy stuff on me. It's bad enough with Myra around." Silence fell with Rosie fuming mad but as much at herself as her love.

  "Please, Sapheela," she pleaded, "talk to me. I promise I won't bite. Though you can bite me later, if you wish."

  Rosie snickered, wishing she could be doing that instead of dredging up what'd been sitting in her heart for some time. "I adore Lizzy. And so does everyone else."

  "Truly? I swear it was but a few months ago you were threatening to sell her to a dalish tribe for screaming nonstop during dinner."

  Screwing up her eyes, Rosie shot out fast, "I want to have another baby."

  "Ah," Anjali tipped her head down to her chest. "That would make some sense. It has been many years since her creation. I assume you and your accomplice of a husband have already..." she waved her hand through the air and grimaced, "done the deed to continue the line."

  Rosie shook her head vehemently, "No. Of course not. I wouldn't without telling you. Without your..."

  "Without my approval," Anjali sighed as she rolled her head back and forth on her neck.

  "I wish I didn't need him. I wish I didn't need a him, but," Rosie collapsed into her lap feeling terrible. Elizabeth was already four and people were asking. Shouldn't she have a sibling? Got to have a backup just in case. But more than all the pointed questions, Rosie wanted to have another. Wanted to have a baby, to feel herself swell with life, to teach another how to walk and talk. To tickle tiny toes and snuggle with a small body on her chest.

  But it wasn't easy making Lizzy. Having another go would be...Maker take her, but she feared it'd be even more awkward than the first time. Which actually took eleven times. Oh, she counted, as -- she feared -- did Anjali.

  "If I could make a baby with you, I would in a heartbeat," Rosie murmured to her knees. She wouldn't cry she told herself, but she felt miserable about it. About putting all of this on the woman she loved, on herself, even on the man who agreed to be her husband in name and nothing more.

  A hand smoothed up and down her naked back, reminding Rosie she was still half dressed. She sat up and stared into Anjali's watering eyes. "It's a shame magic hasn't figured that one out yet."

  "Perhaps if I asked Myra..."

  Anjali puckered up at that thought, "The babe is most likely to come out with tentacles for arms if your sister has a hand in it."

  "She's a bit more focused than...all right, you do make a good point."

  The soothing hand slid up to curl against Rosie's shoulder and tug her against Anjali. Solid as the very foundation of Denerim, Anjali didn't shift for anything while supporting the princess, but she could crack. Rosie feared wha
t would happen if she were to ever break.

  Lips pressed into Rosie's hair, a palm tousling the tresses around. "I love you, Sapheela. Beyond measure. Beyond anything my wandering heart thought was possible. And if you wish to have a baby, then...you should have another baby."

  "Really?" she whipped her head over to her love. Rosie expected the answer to be a firm no, the fear growing to such that her want for a baby would eventually wear away the woman she loved. "If you're saying that for my sake..."

  "Of course I am. I do not wish to breed you out like some mare in heat. But I want you to be happy. Children are...I know they are your life."

  "So are you," she pressed a kiss to Anjali's cheek, her fingers curling to follow the twist of the tattoo around her eye.

  "And that is where I wish to remain. With you, for as long as I can. Plus," that wicked smile returned a moment and Anjali's eyes darted down Rosie's body, "you are beyond beautiful when you are pregnant."

  Her cheeks lit up at that thought, Rosie trying to cover them away. She certainly didn't feel beautiful, everything aching, her stomach surpassing her feet. If anything she was a whale that found itself yanked from the ocean and plopped upon the castle walls.

  "Your lips swell, your stomach softens even more, and your breasts..." Anjali drew the tips of her fingers under Rosie's straining bosom, "I need not extoll about them for another dozen or so pages."

  Rosie let her hands canvass Anjali's more taut form. It seemed cruel to even try to compare the two, her assassin keeping in shape so she'd walk back through that door and never facing a pregnancy to completely alter everything. But while Rosie panted for the muscles just below her soft curves, Anjali seemed to only care for Rosie's padding. At least it worked.

  "So, I should speak with Frederick and..."

  "Yes," Anjali interrupted, pinching into the bridge of her nose, "but leave me out of it this time."