Melt Ch. 03

Requests for meetings, meals, excursions filled her days, from a dizzying array of sources. Some seemed genuinely curious about life in the North, some her clothes, some her speech, some her knowledge.

In short, all seemed generally curious about her.

Initially she was guarded in her answers, cautious against revealing anything that might be of value, determined to emulate her father's stoic demeanour in the presence of those who were not part of the house.

But the enquiries she received remained polite, sometimes bordering on the inane. She almost longed for a question troop deployments, corn supplies or combat tactics, so she could proudly declare "I, Alicia, will not comment on such matters."

She began to relax after a while, even becoming fond of some of her acquaintances. Marianne, in particular, she felt -- hoped - was becoming a genuine friend, even though she could never quite shake the feeling the Veresuran girl was consistently amused by her on some level.

She hadn't seen much of Vivandrian or other members of the main house. They -- again, seemingly - kept to themselves mainly, and though she was dining with them every week, the conversation was the same inanity that she had become accustomed to.

It was very different to her life in Rivalt, where she had been more involved in decisions, and felt at the heart of matters. Here, despite having enough to fill her day, she felt extraneous, purposeless. Letters from home wouldn't arrive for months, and she didn't even have anything particularly of note to say when she sat down to try and write.

And then there was the belt.

She'd learned to adjust to it, in the main. Keeping herself busy, long walks, dancing practice and tasks kept her mind busy, and if she focused on them she could place it out of her mind.

Mostly.

Some nights the memories crept back, and the more she tried to push the thoughts away the more the tingles ran all over her body, caressing, pinching, depriving her of sleep and projecting images onto the inside of her eyelids.

One night Marianne invited her to the water baths after a dinner, again seemingly -- always seemingly, but maybe at this point that was paranoia -- offhandedly.

Alicia controlled her reaction, but inside her heart leapt. She'd long been curious about the water baths - they were a famous element of life here, said to be the jewel of the Veresuran palace; pools of various temperatures, in natural caverns carved into elaborate ornamentation.

She knew they were somewhat restricted in use, and she hadn't wanted to press on exactly how one gained access -- partly stubbornness, partly out of fear it would precipitate an unwanted invite from one of the elder relatives of Vivandrian, which would mean either rudely refusing or exposing her belt.

Still, she weighed the pros and cons. She was never going to be allowed to visit them solo. Marianne was the person she had felt closest to, and if her goal had been to embarrass her she'd had opportunity after their ... nocturnal escapades.

It didn't seem like there would be a better opportunity, so she agreed.

And partly -- she wanted to talk to someone about the belt. In some ways, it almost felt like a test of Marianne too -- was everything here a ruse? Or were they truly friends?

The entrance to the caverns was guarded, but they were waved through, both known enough. Inside it was mercifully empty -- they'd come at a late hour, though it seemed that servants were not common within.

Then came time to disrobe. Alicia tried to appear as nonchalant as possible. She felt Marianne's eyes on her, as the robes fell away.

"Admiring the craftsmanship?" The airy tone Alicia attempted to affect cracked slightly, betraying her.

There was a pause before Marianne replied.

"Not from over here," in her lilting tone, and Alicia felt a wave of tension break within her. She giggled.

"It's something members of our house wear before their betrothal when warded overseas." It wasn't technically a lie, but the omission was known to both. No-one from the house had been warded in living memory.

Marianne cocked her head. "Can you take it off?"

"No. It is well-crafted though, and easy to clean."

The questions ended, replaced with a quiet silence -- that lasted only until they entered the bathing areas.

The caverns were not ... cavernous, but what they lacked in size they made up for in ornamentation. The ceiling was low, and at times almost a crawlspace, dotted with stalactites and stalagmites merging floor to ceiling and back again.

These pillars had been carved and chiselled into reliefs, and there must be hundreds of them filling the caverns. She approached one, marvelling at the amount of detail that had been packed into the carving.

On one, vines adorned the pillar, twirling around the thicker top and bottom halves and making a slight connection in the middle. On the top, the Veresuran Sun symbol burned out from the dark red rock, and below a Veresuran female contorted her naked from, promising but not providing revelation.

"It's exquisite." The words came out despite herself.

"Yes," Alicia stated simply.

She paused, and then the familiar mirthful side awakened. "Though there's less naked women in the men's chambers."

The waters were perfectly warm, and she felt her muscles melt into them.

"You know," she said sleepily "it fascinates me how the heraldry is so casual here. In Rivalt, and Gast, it's an item of such pride. Here it can be emblazoned on armour, but also seems equally at home baked into bread."

Alicia smiled. "We don't see it so much as a herald, I think. The sun gives us everything here." She paused, and looked square at Mary-Anne. "I say this to you, as a friend. I think perhaps we are lucky. The sun makes our lives easier, perhaps, that in the North. It provides us warmth, so there is less need for shelter. It grows our food, so there is not so much pressure to harvest. Life is, perhaps, less complicated."

"Perhaps we should conquer you," Mary-Anne teased "lax, lazy, sun-loungers!"

"Ah! Ah!" Alicia mock-cowered. "Spare me this Northern wrath! I am just a poor, defenceless, litt-"

Alicia's hands had come down, and the sentence was interrupted by a deft flick of water, splashing it into Marianne's giggling face.

They stayed there, alternately conversing and simply relaxing into the water, until it began to prune at the extremities, before making their way back out to get dried.

She looked at Alicia's body, as she dried it. She'd been so focused on anxiety over the belt, and then wonderment at the carvings, that she hadn't had time to really focus on it before.

It was sensuous, in that particularly Veresuran way -- tanned skin, full breasts, and dark hair. Rather than the curves being focused on the breasts and butt alone, they seemed to flow through her entire body.

The familiar tingles began to return.

"Here" Marianne turned as she spoke, causing her to quickly throw her eyes down. "I'll dry your back".

The touch was gentle, exploring, running down and around, carefully removing the moisture from her body.

"Your skin is so beautiful," Marianne purred, behind her. "You're a lucky girl."

Alicia blushed, hard. The tingling intensified.

She'd never thought about sexuality. It wasn't discussed in Rivalt. The importance to her was the political union, and she knew she'd eventually need to be married off to secure the House.

Thusly, her virginity was precious, and she understood this.

But what about girls? Could they just ... enjoy themselves together? Was that so bad?

The yearning between her legs was an active distraction now, and her breathing began to become laboured. She tried to steady herself.

She thought back to the night in the woods, the memories stronger and more vivid now they were indulged. Alicia's face, partially obscured in the dark.

"Were you serious?" she asked. "That night, in the woods? Would you have ..."

The question tailed off.

And then suddenly, it was like a jolt of hot ice through her spine as Marianne traced her finger across it.

"Yes" she whispered softly, both answering and not answering the question.

Alicia turned, brittle, but saw an unexpected tenderness in Marianne's eyes. Which was joined by a raised her hand, touching her cheek in a gentle caress.

Alicia closed her eyes, acquiescing to the moment. She knew it was perhaps unwise, but the loneliness of her time here broke her will, a dam releasing a pressure she had not fully acknowledged was there.

Marianne stepped forward, and she could feel the hot breath over her lips, the warmth of her body. The hairs on her body stood on end. She moaned, softly.

As if taking it as a signal, Marianne's lips grazed hers, softly. She opened her mouth, and they moved in.

The warmth, connection, and vulnerability she felt were mixed with tension and ... desire. Raw, unmitigated desire, physical and emotional.

She reached out, touching Marianne's breast.

Marianne took her hand, gently, and brought it down, down to beneath her legs. Alicia felt the soft, wet opening, and her eyes awakened in kind.

Her heart was hammering in her chest. She halfway wanted to pull back, to stop. It was Marianne's eyes that stopped her. They were soft, full of desire, but also somehow vulnerable. Her concerns melted away, ice under rays.

The problem was, she didn't know what to do. Marianne seemed to read her uncertainty.

"Like this" she whispered, softly, so softly. And slowly, gently, took Alicia's hand in her own, and began to massage her flower with it.

Alicia watched, enraptured, as Marianne's eyes widened sultrily, body arching. She loved the ability to make her friend feel like this, and the effect it was having on her. She could almost feel Marianne's arousal combine with her own, a cloud of desire.

She didn't know how long they moved, but it was over too soon. Marianne stiffened, gasped, and clenched on her fingers. She watched, enraptured, as Marianne melted into her hand, then slowly returned, leaning into her, her body at peace.

Alicia had none. She wanted it. She wanted that. Marianne looked at her. And then down, at the belt. She looked back, eyes apologetic.

Alicia bit her lip. There was nothing to do.

Marianne traced her finger up and over the metal of the belt, slowly, languidly.

"I'm sorry" she whispered, and Alicia felt the surge within her at the finality of those words. A deep, subdermal frustration.

It stayed there, burning. It burnt as they clothed, silently. It stayed low as they walked in silence back to her room.

But when Marianne took her hand, squeezed it softly, it built. And then when she kissed her lightly on the lips, it exploded.

Marianne gave her a quick, conspiratorial smile, and squeezed her hand, before turning and walking away.

Alicia walked slowly, deliberately into her room. She lay face down, put her head into the pillow, curling her fists into balls. She wanted to scream, to beat the pillow, to do anything to release this frustration, but knew from long months the futility of it.

So she lay there, prone, for what seemed like an eternity, until sleep took her.