Hot Days and Hotter Nights Ch. 05

Though Salamacia had proven herself to be a hardy person, enjoying hikes as well as sparring matches and exercise, she carried a trait that was stereotypical for women - a love of shopping.

Sena wondered why on earth her wife thought she needed more things. Though Sena had never lacked for anything she needed back on the Silver Isles, her family seemed almost like paupers compared to the lifestyles she'd seen of the various family members of House Aracon. It'd been only almost a week, but Sena already had a very good idea of how the dragons lived, and now, since she was an Aracon by marriage, she was now technically a dragon, and apparently expected to live like one.

"Salamacia, I don't see why we need all of this!" Sena argued quietly as she sat on a chair of upholstered gold fabric as Salamacia finalized an order from the owner of the furniture shop. Surrounding her was various pieces of completed furniture, and more in varying stages of completion in the workshop in the back. She and Salamacia had walked through this workshop while Salamacia pointed out this or that, a design she enjoyed, what color and what kind of fabric to upholster the furniture with, what kind of wood, and what kind of finishing touches needed to be applied.

In her estimation, there was an ample amount of furniture in their apartments, not just for them, but a good amount of guests should the blonde woman decide to have a private party or gathering. "Is this meant as a gift?" she asked. Salamacia smirked as she jotted her signature on the work order, and the old man retreated before she turned back to Sena.

"Why, certainly it's a gift. To us."

"I don't understand, are we getting rid of the furniture in your apartment?" the dark-haired woman queried.

"You will see," Salamacia replied cryptically. "Come along, we have plenty more shopping to do."

Deep ones, preserve me, Sena thought sourly.

o0o

"Though your Silver Isle clothing may be appropriate for some occasions, you do need to present a proper image of a member of House Aracon at certain occasions," Salamacia said as she examined several bolts of varying shades of red and materials. She might have passed some of her dresses to Sena to borrow, but the younger woman simply did not have the figure to fill out such dresses. It was almost comical that despite being the one closer to the designation of 'wife' in this relationship, Sena's figure was almost boyish, especially when attired in more casual and hardy clothing.

The young woman in question looked as if she would rather be anywhere else than this place, and didn't seem to give one single fuck about the pretty accessories the seamstress had waved in front of her - lace, ribbons, gold or silver thread, and other things that women liked to accent their dresses or hair with.

"A practical woman, hmm?" the middle-aged woman observed, putting away these fripperies. "There is something to be said about modesty, and it's usually good." She offered Sena a smile before showing her several dresses. "Which one do you like best?"

Sena pointed to the simplest of the dresses, a dark gold one with dagged sleeves and a narrower skirt. The woman turned back to Salamacia and grinned a little. "Well, at least you won't be given as much grief as your cousin Jaime, eh?"

The two of the laughed, and Sena glanced at them with some confusion.

"Oh, you met him and his wife last week, remember?" Salamacia asked. Sena nodded. "Well, remember how she was dressed?"

Sena paused for a moment before she gave a brief nod. "I recall she had a lot of jewelry, and her dress had more gems and embroidery on it than I'd ever imagined possible."

"She goes through dresses like others go through tissue paper," the older woman explained. "Then she will tear up the dresses she doesn't want anymore so that no one else can wear them." Salamacia rolled her eyes.

"At least she keeps me in business," Bertrande replied sagely as she set the dress of Sena's choice aside to look at again later.

"Don't you already get enough business from the rest of us?" Salamacia shot back. Bertrande gave her a cheeky smile. A distant cousin of the current Aracons through a bastard child of a sister of a long-dead lord, Bertrand showed none of the trademark physical features of the noble House. However, the stout, dark-haired woman had a keen business sense and a borderline ruthlessness that Salamacia could not help but admire. She'd turned her mother's modest tailoring business into a prosperous business, and did brisk business with many of the residents of Dragonslair. The members of House Aracon looked after their own, and despite Bertrand not being an official or recognized member, she still had the protection of Dragonslair, something gained not through mere blood ties, but through a proven work ethic and quality of product.

"Does a dragon ever have enough?" Bertrand shot back, and Salamacia chuckled.

"Point made. Shall we get back to my wife?"

"Of course." Bertrande turned back to Sena, showing her some more dresses in varying styles. Some were for winter, others for summer. Inevitably, Sena would select the plainer and more modest dresses.

"Come now, Sena! Live a little! And besides, you're going to want more variety in your wardrobe, especially come summer."

"What do you mean?" Sena asked.

"Summers can get quite hot in the Southlands, and you're going to want to dress accordingly." She picked up one of the dresses Sena had rejected. It was a silk dress without sleeves, the hem ending halfway between the knee and the ankle.

"That looks more like something you sleep in!" Sena said, staring at the garment. Salamacia had to bite back a smirk as she imagined Sena in such a garment, showing off her arms and lower legs. Many women within Dragonslair, lady or servant alike, would wear such garments, with little or no sleeves, their ankles visible. Common sense overrode strait-laced modesty in such weather, at least for most people.

"I can assure you, many women dress more skimpily when it gets really hot. Trust me, you will be glad for such a dress come high summer."

With Bertrande in obvious agreement, Sena could only surrender. Maybe there's hope for you yet, Salamacia thought as they continued discussing the items Bertrande or her assistants would make for Sena.

"And what colors would you like?" Bertrande asked.

"I like green," was the automatic reply.

"Of course," Salamacia replied dryly. Sena glared at her.

"Well, I could make some things in red, and others in green. I understand you're from House Teuthi, are you not?" Bertrande asked, pretending to ignore the friction between the married couple. "So I am sure that a couple of formal dresses in green and blue would be more than appropriate," she said. It was common for a noble woman to have a few dresses and other garments in the color of the House she had been born in, especially if she was acting as a representative at gatherings.

"Yeah, that works for me," Salamacia said with a shrug. "But I want to see her in lots of red, too!" She walked over to a bolt of flame-red silk, one of her favorite colors. "This is such a lovely color." At that comment, she saw Sena wince.

"Come now, you should have known this was coming," the blonde woman chided her lightly. Sena glared back and crossed her arms, and Bertrande remained tactfully silent.

"I don't like the color," Sena replied.

"Maybe I don't like green and don't want you to have any green clothes," Salamacia shot back.

"Then I'll just wear gray!"

"Ahem." Bertrande stepped forward. "First, why don't we see how the color looks on her?" she asked, motioning Sena over to where the bolt was sitting. For a moment, it looked like Sena was going to be as defiant to the other woman as she was being to her wife, but she rose from her seat. Bertrande pulled up some of the loose material and held it up to the young woman's front, the fabric ending just below her chin.

"Tut-tut, this color simply won't do," Bertrande said, shaking her head. "She simply does not have the complexion for it, the red makes her look washed out!"

Salamacia stared at her wife, seeing the truth in the seamstress' words. The bright red made Sena look dull in comparison, robbing her pale skin of what little color it had. However, she would not conceded defeat so quickly. "She is a bride of House Aracon, and must be represented accordingly," she stated with an imperious wave of her hand. If Bertrande wasn't there, she could swear that Sena would probably have growled at her.

"I understand, and I think I have just the right shade." With that, Bertrande located a couple of dresses or loose swatches of fabric. The first color she held up to Sena was a deep burgundy color, with just a touch of purple. Its effect was almost the opposite of the flame-red, and even Sena seemed to... well, if she didn't like the color, at least she didn't seem to hate it, either.

"Well now, that is a stunning color on you!" Bertrande stated. Sena glanced at the mirror, and nodded slowly.

"Cooler shades of red for you, then," Bertrande stated, testing out a few more shades of red against Sena, draping them along her chest. Sena offered no argument to this, and though it was obvious she didn't care much for this sort of activity, she cooperated for the rest of the session, pointing out preferred styles and fabrics but listening to Bertrande's advice.

After the appointment, the pair walked back to their carriage, a servant trailing behind them with a couple of dresses and some silken smallclothes.

"That wasn't so terrible now was it?" Salamacia asked as the pair settled into the carriage.

Sena crossed her arms, staring at her blankly.

"I know things take time getting used to, especially a new home, but why do you have to be so sour? Can't you just enjoy the things we have to offer you? Have I not made good on my word of providing for you?" Salamacia said, trying to not sound too nagging. It seemed that every time she made some progress with her wife, there was something to take them two steps back.

Sena's expression softened just a bit. "It just seems so... unnecessary, all these things. Why do I need so many dresses? Or silk underwear?"

"So you have lots of nice things to choose from!" Salamacia shot back with a smile. "And silk against the bare skin is a quite lovely sensation. It's true that the Dragonslair is quite... lavish. But life is meant to be enjoyed! We value hard work, but we also value pleasure. What's wrong with enjoying life? Besides, all the things we buy... that money supports other people and ensures that they can have a good life as well. Betrande and her seamstresses can feed their families. The furniture-makers, the architects, the artists, the cooks, the servants... thanks to our wealth, others are comfortable. Plenty of gold pours into our coffers, but a decent amount of it pours back out to benefit others."

"I... hadn't thought of it that way," Sena replied quietly, a pensive expression coming to her face.

"Now will you let me spoil you and buy you nice things?" Salamachai shot back lightly, a grin on her face.

"You can buy me all the things you want, but you won't spoil me!" Sena shot back.

Salamacia smirked. "I think that's a fair compromise, but only if you promise that you'll at least try to enjoy them."

At that, Sena smiled just a little, and nodded.

o0o

The greenhouses had become a favorite place for the young Water Mage, and Sena found herself soothed by the presence of the plants, and the moisture she felt in the air.

She lightly ran her fingers along the large petals of a red and pink flower. The Silver Isles did have some flowers, but the harsher climate prevented such plants like this from existing, and Sena had to admit that she did find beauty in these brightly-colored flowers. Almost every color of the rainbow seemed to be found within the variety of flowers that grew within Dragonslair, and her favorite was a flower called the morning glory, which climbed along the trellises in shades of blue, indigo, and even violet.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" she heard Salamacia's voice call out gently, and she turned to see her wife. The tall blonde was clad in leggings and a tunic, with a leather breastplate and arm guards. Her hair was pilled back in a braided bun, though a few strands had worked themselves loose.

"Uh... hi. How was your practice?" Sena asked.

"It went as usual. However, I have an idea. Have you ever considered taking up a sword?"

"What? Me?"

"Yes, you." Salamacia smiled. "I think you'd do well with a lighter sword. Perhaps a sabre, or an estoc."

"A... what?"

Salamacia laughed, though it was a good-natured laugh, not a mocking one. "These swords are lighter ones, which would suit you well. You're small and fast, and I doubt the kind of sword I prefer would suit you."

"I think you're right," she replied, recalling Salamacia's prized sword. It was of the finest steel and almost five feet in length. It felt heavy to Sena when Salamacia had given it to her to examine, but the older woman handled the weapon with ease. It was not the one she used for practice though, preferring to use practice swords with dulled edges when sparring with a partner in the arena. Sena remembered the various swords lined up against one wall, of differing lengths and thicknesses, some made of wood, others of metal. "But... me, use a sword? How did this come to you?"

"Why not?"

"Because..." Sena was about to say that in the Silver Isles, war was left to the men, and it was seen as unnecessary for a woman to learn how to use a sword, though some might learn how to use a bow and arrow or dagger. That was rare however, and mainly for hunting, which in itself was considered a masculine pursuit.

"Because that's the Silver Isle way, is it?" Salamacia countered.

"And this is not the Silver Isles, you don't need to tell me that," Sena shot back.

"Haven't you ever been curious about it, though?" Salamacia asked.

"... Maybe," Sena shot back. She'd had it drilled into her head from a young age, that traditions existed for a reason, and that there were masculine and feminine pursuits because there was an obvious difference between the sexes and that men were better suited for feats of strength while women were suited for caring. Even after seeing that the gender roles were not so tightly defined at Dragonslair, it was hard to forget two decades of living and following certain mores.

"Remember when I chased your brother around with a wooden sword?" Salamacia asked with a grin.

"How could I forget?" Sena shot back. She remembered that day well. Her family had stayed at the Aracon compound at Dragonsport, a major trading hub where much of Southland's trading and commerce was done. It was where she and Salamacia and the rest of the family had landed after returning from the Silver Isles before taking the last leg of their journey up to Dragonslair. Riho's youngest brother was the governor of this city, and current head of the household there.

Back then, there had been several children of Aracon, including Salamacia and her brother. Salamacia had been thirteen, while Sena was eleven.

Sena's own brother and one of the Aracon boys were sparring and wrestling, and there were several other boys, of both Houses, watching and cheering them on, waiting their own turn to show off their strength and skill.

Both boys sparred fiercely, but the squid overcame the dragon, much to friendly cheers and jeers from both sides. The golden-haired boy took his defeat gracefully and slunk out of the ring to let a new challenger take his place.

That challenger had been Salamacia, who took the sword from her cousin and stepped to face her opponent with confidence.

Sena remembered how her brother had laughed at the prospect of facing a female opponent. At first, he had outright refused to fight, saying how it was not proper for a lady to fight, and that a man of honor should never strike a lady.

At this, Salamacia let out a string of expletives and taunts which drew out laughs and hollers from the Aracon boys, and shocked stares and muttering from the Teuthi boys. Sena remembered her own jaw dropping as she heard this kind of language from the lanky blonde girl.

Before her opponent had a chance to respond, Salamacia lunged forward with the wooden sword. Despite her opponent's valiant effort, Salamacia bested him, much to the shock of the Silver Isle boys. Sena remembered the surge of admiration she had felt for Salamacia, and the surprise she had felt at that. Now, a decade later, she was able to better understand that feeling. Salamacia had proven to the Silver Isle boys - more than once, as she'd challenged the other boys in turn - that just because she was a woman didn't mean she was weak or retiring. Sena slid out of her reminiscence, and refocused on after that day her wife.

"Oh goodness, the boys were practically shaking in terror around you," Sena said with a rueful sickle. "I will admit I enjoyed their... slightly improved behavior." Indeed, after Salamacia had bested the Teuthi boys that had dared to rise to her challenge, Sena noticed an almost indiscernible humility to their behavior. Having been raised in a culture where it was taught that men were superior in physical prowess to women, it had been an unexpected lesson for the boys of the Silver Isles. Their perceptions of women, if not shattered, had been at the very least been shaken somewhat after being defeated personally by a girl.

"So why not give it a try?" Salamacia asked. "If you like it and show aptitude for it, then we can continue from that. If not, no loss."

Sena was silent for several moments, warring between what had been inculcated in her for as long as she could remember, and the opportunities she was now being given in her new home.

"Very well, then," she finally said after several moments of silence. She suddenly found herself on the receiving end of a fierce hug.

o0o

Multiple strands of hair had worked free from Sena's braid and stuck to her sweat-plastered brow after she'd removed her protective headgear. With a small huff, she wiped the locks from her forehead before letting a servant take away the wooden sword she'd been practicing with.

Sena was no stranger to physical activity. She enjoyed hiking, and preferred walks to sewing or weaving, but the drills that Salamacia put her through exercised muscles she hadn't known existed. Salamacia had put her through the paces, showing her lunges, thrusts, and parries so she could learn how to move with a sword.

Salamacia removed her own headgear, her face becoming visible once the metal netting was lowered. Another servant came forward to take away the headgear and sword before Sena felt hands on her, undoing the straps of her leather armor. She lifted her arms, complying with this endeavor, catching her breath as she was freed from the confines of her protective gear. When the servant was done, she was left in a simple gray tunic and matching pants. They were a bit too big on her, but they'd been loaned from her wife.

A cup of water was offered to her, and she gratefully gulped it down. Salamacia dismissed the servants with a wave of her hand before approaching the younger woman.

"You did very well for your first day," the older woman said as she looked down at her lover. Sena blushed a bit at the praise.

"You really think so?" she asked shyly. In the Silver Isles, praise was seen as something to be given very sparingly, if that. Humility and modesty were traits that were emphasized for men and women alike - though of course, like the world over, these traits were more valued for women than men.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." Salamacia reached up, running a finger along her jaw, and Sena couldn't help but shiver a bit in pleasure. "In due time, I am sure you will be able to give me a good duel."