With equal grace

Isa stared at the crouched boy. Taking in the sight. The sun rays caught his honeyed curls, giving them a hint of cherubish mischievousness. Her discernment was only reinforced by the charming twinkle in his eyes and that sweet, disarming smirk of his. The girl decided the only way to repay his endearing attempt of flattery was one in kind.

Her legs bowed outwards with unpracticed grace as she gripped the edges of her cloak to fan it out either side. The clumsy attempt at fine, courtly etiquette was not lost on her beloved. That twinkle in his eye had morphed into one full of ravenous passion. “Mine lord, while your expression may have been uncouth, I cannot admit to being unswayed~”

A deep growl came from Magnus as he eye-fucked his cherished. While his own rise was less smooth than his wit, the feral intent radiating from him set Isa’s core ablaze. “Good. Would the fair maiden wish to be escorted to her ship~?” He stayed where he was, though his own cloak was proffered enough that she could slip in close if she so chose.

Isa could not help but huff at his teasing, noting to take vengeance later. She chose not to deign him with any more words, silently walking up to, then against him as his arm and cloak settled over her. The richness of his musky scent had her immediately nuzzling against him, her nose burying against his armpit. After a few moments of indulging herself, Isa pulled back enough to start walking back to the faering with Magnus. Though his trousers were baggy enough, let alone adding in the padding from his no doubt sweat infused smallclothes, she could see he was tenting from her own display of need.

His gait hampered by a mighty spear, their jaunt back to the skiff was slow and measured. Isa kept her teasing to a minimum, only brushing her hand across his tent twice ‘on accident’, but she knew they should not linger on these foreign shores. His own gropes of her side were equally tame, especially after a sharp break of wood reminded them of the dangers of the unfamiliar forest.

She was relieved to see the faering untouched, pulled into a position for easy departure by Magnus during her scouting of the forest edge. His diligence never wavered, even under threat of her teasing. They stopped at the riverbank, glancing out onto the soft rush of water that would take them to the fabled sea of black. Not that it really was, of course, but nevertheless it was an apt name at times. Stormy at times and Isa vaguely recalled something about the cardinal direction of north being represented as black. Rather grim, she thought.

“So,” Magnus began, gesturing to the faering. “It turns out you did miss something, mine own.” The firm grip on her shoulder made sure to soothe his lighthearted jest.

Isa felt a fool, her cheeks flushing with warmth as she spied the obvious thing she had indeed missed on her adrenaline and grief-fueled inspection. There lying atop the furs were the detached mast and sail. A small, pithy thing really, but advantageous nonetheless. It must have been buried underneath Magnus, she mused. As if summoned by her thoughts, the boy kissed the top of her head.

“Don’t feel bad, I almost missed it too! I would not have noticed it if I had not been thinking about… you know… and how we could make it work on something so small~” His playful smirk returned, enflaming her cheeks with that naughty wink of his. Lightly punching his shoulder, Isa turned to look at the forest again.

“Do you think we should wait any longer? Forage some more food…?” She knew he would say no, and she knew it was inadvisable, but someone needed to ask it.

“We should not be more than a day from the port where we were going to resupply. I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Alright.” She flashed a dazzling smile at her betrothed. “Should we set up the sail now or wait until we are back on the river?”

The boy paused a moment, weighing the pros and cons. He took a deep breath, the wind playing with both their curls. His were light and bouncy, not pulled down by decades of growth like Father’s had been. Hers fluttered in the wind, golden filaments sparkling like dews of honey. “No,” he finally spoke, “I think it best we leave now…”

The way he spoke, so authoritatively, had her both on edge and yet comforted at the same time. A quick glance back at the forest, somehow darker now, gave her the shivers. She nodded her assent, quickly climbing into the skiff and setting about moving some of the pelts around so they could both sit on a bench. With a grunt, Magnus shoved the faering back into the cold grip of the river, hauling himself up with ease. Dozens of small diamonds glistened across his now soaked outfit.

After making sure they were roughly in the middle of the lazily flowing river, Magnus set about putting up the sail with Isa’s help. She did not have the strength he did, but she was able to deftly loop the thin ropes where they needed to be. A quiet had settled between the two of them, both absorbed in their work until at last it was complete. Their speed, although not increased by any order of magnitude, did pick up modestly.

Isa pulled out her pouch of dried vittles, silently chewing on some berries as her beloved caught his breath across from her. Her stormy blue eyes traced him up and down. From his cute curls to his covered feet. She felt his gaze as he cracked an eye open, his body having leaned back to rest on his hands gripping the sides of the faering. Magnus did not say anything. He did not need to.

Isa put the food pouch away, gently wiping at the juice-stained saliva on her cheek. A pinch at the tip of her finger, one by one until the glove came loose. She leaned forward, feeling her budding bosom be weighed down by gravity. A captivating sight if the growing tent in Magnus’ breeches was any indication. Arching her back, Isa moved closer to her lover.