The Lowlander Pt. 01

She thought she could smell the fresh linen scent of Jem's sheets.

Sighing, Hanna moved away and seated herself on the porch with her feet dangling off the edge, listening to the faint sound of the rushing water in the distance. Dawn was fast approaching; the roosters at the base of the hill sent up their salutations as sunlight threatened to break over the horizon.

Hanna closed her eyes and leaned against the corner railings of the porch, feeling a welcome breeze waft over the hill.

Sleep claimed her almost instantly.

*

Hanna had to praise Jem's skills of evasion. She'd somehow managed to successfully avoid Hanna for 2 full days, despite Hanna's attempts to corner her at first chance.

But what Jem didn't know was that Hanna was a skilled tracker and she always found her target.

Finally, Hanna thought to herself as she watched Jem trek a path into the woods. Perched on a high, curving branch, Hanna watched in the quickly dimming sunlight as Jem walked up to an old tree with massive buttress roots.

Her posture was ramrod straight, fingers curved on the hilt of her sword as she listened for signs of danger.

Hanna froze on the branch, her breath catching in her lungs in case Jem heard her. Her palms dug into the bark of branch as she tried her best to hold still in a crouched position.

Then, at last, Jem crouched at the base of the tree and leaned back against its massive trunk, stretching her legs out in front of her. She slowly ran her hands over its thick roots, her lips moving as she spoke. Hanna dipped her head low to get a hint of what Jem was saying, but she was much too far.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, Hanna switched to a sitting position on the branch, watching Jem's face closely. Her features were relaxed, open, as though she was speaking to someone she cared about.

It was how she'd spoken to Hanna that night after... after they'd been intimate. It was how she'd looked as she'd held Hanna close in the darkened room, kissing the mark she'd made on Hanna's shoulder.

Hanna shivered at the memory, her fingers rising to trace the almost-healed scar. She'd been haunted by Jem's soft touch, her laugh, the little lines that formed around her mouth when she smiled.

Under the exterior she presented to the world -- the "Commander" that everyone knew -- she had a quiet soul and a loving touch that Hanna doubted many knew about. Hanna desperately wanted to feel that person again -- to know that she was the center of someone's world. To know someone wanted to touch her as badly as she wanted to touch them. For someone to take control for a little while.

Hanna watched quietly from her vantage point as Jem moved to a kneeling position and bowed her head in prayer. She placed two fingers to her lips and placed it on the leaf-covered woodland ground.

Hanna frowned -- was this a lowland tradition she wasn't aware of?

Jem stood again, brushing the stray leaves off her britches. Then she turned to leave. Except that she didn't take the route she'd taken into the woods. Instead, she walked towards the large tree Hanna was seated on.

Hanna's breath caught as she paused momentarily at the base of the tree before looking up. Their eyes locked for a second and Hanna raised a hand in an awkward wave of greeting.

Jem only shook her head and walked away.

Hanna didn't need a mirror to tell her that her cheeks had heated to a rich cherry red at getting caught spying. But she'd been so quiet -- how had Jem known?!

Sighing, Hanna scaled the branches and landed on the woodland floor with a slight crunch of leaves under her feet. She'd already taken two steps towards the large buttress tree before it occurred to her that she could be intruding on Jem's privacy.

Hanna bit my lip, considering. Yes, she wanted to uncover Jem's secrets but she didn't want to cross any lines.

Even so... this was just a tree in the middle of the woods. How private could it be?

Hanna hesitantly made her way towards the behemoth of a tree and stood where Jem had. Something glinted in the dim sunlight and she bent low to get a good look at it.

Hesitantly, she brushed stray leaves with her fingers and unearthed a gleaming gold plaque that was scratched with age.

Tom and Celene Gideo

Warriors of Goldhurst

Beloved Parents

It wasn't a plaque... it was a warrior's gravestone.

Hanna's fingers traced the word 'Parents'... were these people Jem's parents? Were they buried here? Had they passed together? How young had Jem been?

To her surprise, she felt tears at the corners of her eyes. The words, "I'm sorry" stuck in her throat. To lose both parents at once must have been an unspeakable blow for Jem, no matter her age.

Hanna looked over my shoulder. She wanted to run to Jem and throw her arms around the stoic Commander. But before that, Hanna gathered leaves around the plaque again, hiding it from marauding eyes.

But by the time she reached the village again, Jem was nowhere to be seen. So she found her sisters instead, who were chatting away with Finn. She sat with them, saying nothing, wondering what she could do to show Jem how much she truly cared.

*

Hanna knelt on the bed, her hands bound behind her back in irons. Kara had placed the key to the shackles in the large chest by the bed, well beyond Hanna's reach.

This was her last chance to prove to Jem that she was here to stay, in whatever way Jem wished her to. She also knew Jem liked control -- not unsurprising of a Commander. Perhaps the shackles would provoke a reaction that her words simply couldn't.

Naked and on her knees in the darkened room, Hanna thought she looked like a sacrifice. The fear of rejection lodged painfully in her heart -- what if Jem took one look at her and walked away? What if Hanna's mistake was so unforgiveable that surrendering everything to the woman she loved wasn't enough?

Her breath caught sharply in her throat as the word replayed itself in her head. Love. She'd known she felt a keen desire and affection for the Commander, but love? Didn't love take time to develop? Or was one intense night sufficient? How does one measure love?

Before she could dwell on the storm of emotions welling inside her, she heard the front door creak open. She held her breath, waiting for Jem to appear in the doorway of the bedroom. Instead, she heard the telltale clink of a sword being drawn.

Hanna grimaced. She obviously hadn't thought this plan through.

"It's just me," she called softly, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

She heard a curse and a clamor as the sword was re-sheathed. Jem appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, lighting the oil lamp by the bed.

Hanna's breath caught as she waited for the verbal tongue-lashing she was sure would follow her intrusion. Instead, as the warm glow from the lamp fell over the bed, she watched Jem freeze as she took in Hanna's state of undress.

"You said you liked me in chains," Hanna offered uncertainly.

She could see Jem's eyes roving her body, from the braid that was flung over her shoulder to the crux of her thighs. Hanna flushed but didn't look away, letting Jem look her fill.

Then Jem took in the mark of her claim on Hanna's shoulder and her eyes hardened.

"My biggest mistake," she said, her words bitter.

Those words -- the first words Jem had said to her since that night -- ran through Hanna like a sword. She raised pleading eyes to Jem, begging her to take her words back. But it soon became clear that Jem meant every word.

Hanna had hoped and wished that offering herself would be enough. But as she stared into hard brown eyes she barely recognized, dread settled low in her stomach. There was nothing she could do to fix this -- the realization was slowly settling in.

Against her will, Hanna's eyes overflowed with tears. She looked away and shut her eyes, hating the tears that fell hotly on her bare breasts.

"I'm so sorry," she said once again, her voice breaking as she tried to fight the tears that made her whole body tremble.

*

Jem saw the tears fall -- real tears that turned Hanna's chest and neck a vivid red. Her words had meant to hurt and yet, perhaps, they had worked too well.

As strong as she tried to be, the sound of Hanna's pain broke her heart. Was she enough of a monster to ignore the woman she loved falling apart in front of her?

It was stupid, she knew. She was thinking with her heart rather than her head -- something she'd been taught not to do her whole life, be it in battle or in love. Sadly, she'd had limited experience with the latter.

But as she watched Hanna's tears fall onto her breasts and trail down the soft curve of her stomach, she knew she'd made a mistake -- and it wasn't claiming Hanna. She'd made the mistake of not listening to what Hanna was trying to say. Why Hanna had returned to Goldhurst in the first place and stayed on even though Jem treated her like a dog.

It was one thing to be angry with someone but it was another to deliberately hurt them.

Jem sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Hanna close, letting the tears fall on her armor instead. Hanna didn't resist. Instead, she tucked her face into the crook of Jem's neck and cried even harder, barely able to breathe through her tears.

"I didn't mean that," Jem said, her fingers wandering over Hanna's back in what she hoped was a soothing caress. "I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me."

Hanna wiped her nose on the feathered edge of Jem's armor, trying to control the flow of tears. Still, her lips trembled as she tried to take a deep breath.

"You don't think I'm a mistake?" she asked, looking into Jem's eyes.

Jem shook her head. "The night we shared -- it was special. More special than I allowed myself to feel. But you left..."

"I had to." Hanna sniffled. "I had no choice."

Jem sighed. "I suppose I know that."

"I've been trying so hard to make it right," Hanna said between sobs.

Jem took a deep breath. "I know."

"Please say you forgive me," Hanna pleaded, trying to catch Jem's gaze.

But Jem couldn't say the words. They stuck in her throat like she was trying to swallow a fucking boulder. How could she tell this woman that the moment she'd jumped out the window had felt like her heart had been torn from its chest? That she hadn't changed her sheets for a week just so she could fall asleep with the scent of roses in the air? That she'd cried herself to sleep every night but not before reliving the moments they'd shared?

That Hanna's leaving had confirmed what she'd thought about herself for the longest time: that no one could ever love her.

"I..."

Hanna looked at her expectantly.

"Where are the keys to the shackles?"

Hanna blinked. Then she blinked again. Her lips parted as though she was about to say something, but she decided against it and sat away from Jem, her shoulders sagging.

"It's in the chest," she said instead.

Jem retrieved the key and unshackled Hanna, letting the chains coil on the floor.

"I should go," Hanna said, sliding off the bed and reaching for the clothes that were piled neatly on the writing desk. As she reached for her undergarments, Jem's words stopped her.

"Stay."

Hanna looked over her shoulder. "Why?"

"Just..." Jem paused. "Just stay."

Hanna let the garment drop from her fingers. She watched as Jem unstrapped her armor, lifting the heavy leather over her head and setting it on top of the chest. When she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to unstrap her boots, Hanna said: "Let me."

She knelt on the bearskin surrounding the bed and worked on the ties. Jem watched her, her heart filled with such a powerful surge of emotions that she had to remind herself to breathe.

Hanna stacked the boots at the foot of the bed and looked up when she felt fingers in her hair. Their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity, a wealth of insecurities, hesitance and longing passing between them. Then Jem tightened her fingers and Hanna stood, stepping between Jem's spread legs.

Jem laid her head against Hanna's bare breasts, inhaling the scent of her skin, just as she had that night. Hanna's fingers stole into Jem's blonde locks, holding her there, relishing the familiarity of her touch.

"Stay the night," Jem whispered against Hanna's breasts.

A small smile creased Hanna's lips as she nodded. "I have nowhere else to go. I came back here for you, Jem."

Jem sat back, letting the words sink in.

Hanna lifted a knee onto the bed and straddled Jem. Jem's broad palms instinctively cupped Hanna's waist, holding her in place.

"Is this okay?" Hanna asked, slipping her arms around Jem's neck.

"Yes," Jem said quietly.

Hanna leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Jem's generous lips, sighing at the familiar contact. Jem kissed her back, pulling her closer such that Hanna's breasts were plastered against Jem's undershirt. The coarse cotton brushed against her sensitive nipples but Hanna only pushed back harder, wanting -- no needing -- to get closer.

The next second, her back hit the bed and Jem's form hovered above her. Hanna entwined her legs around Jem's waist and pulled her down.

"I've been dreaming about this," she whispered.

"You have?" Jem asked, pressing tiny kisses to Hanna's collarbone.

Hanna nodded, tucking stray locks of hair behind Jem's ear. "Every time I close my eyes, I feel your weight on top of me, your hand on my throat, the taste of your skin on my lips.

"Every night, I'd fall apart when I thought about the way I left you behind."

Hanna cupped Jem's cheek.

"I don't think you understand how much you mean to me."

Jem swallowed. Yes, she did. But she simply couldn't bring herself to say it. Was it self-preservation? Or ego? She wasn't sure.

Instead of responding, she kissed Hanna, her fingers wandering over a soft thigh and curved hip. When her fingers dug into Hanna's bottom, she pulled back just enough to hear Hanna's low moan echo in the room. That made Jem smile.

Her fingers moved upwards and cupped Hanna's breast, her thumb moving back and forth in rapid succession -- less patient, more demanding than she'd been their first night together. Hanna's body struggled to keep up with the change of pace. Slow and unbearably unhurried was something she was used to. This urgency, this intense need to feel connected in the most primal way, was something else entirely.

Hanna's back arched as Jem's fingers plucked a sensitive nipple, rolling it non-too-gently against her callused skin. Hanna felt sweat beading along her hairline as the sensations took over her body. All she could do was hold on to Jem's nape and trust that she wouldn't drown in her own gasps and moans.

When Jem's kisses reached the patch of curls between Hanna's legs, a rush of red covered her chest and neck.

"I don't --" she started to protest but the look in Jem's eyes silenced her in a second. Hanna's thighs trembled as Jem's fingers parted her nether lips, her eyes holding Hanna's hostage.

The only light in the room seemed to dim as Jem and those wonderful fingers became the center of Hanna's world. She felt the thrum of Jem's fingers against her button, light and wonderful, and cursed aloud. She thought she heard Jem laugh against her mound but she could've been wrong.

Then she felt the insistent pressure as Jem entered her with two fingers. Her breaths came out in pants as she clasped the cotton sheets, twisting them under in her palms as she held on for dear life.

But this time was different. Those fingers -- those wonderful, talented fingers -- didn't move. Instead, she felt the cool air of the room caress her button before it was replaced with a wet heat.

Hanna's back arched as the foreign sensation shot straight up from her sex and disengaged her rational mind. She knew she was saying something but she couldn't fathom what it could possibly be as Jem laved the pink nub with the flat of her tongue.

She glanced down. Jem's mouth and nose were buried against Hanna's mound -- the image of that alone, coupled with the constant barrage of sensations, almost drove Hanna over the edge. She reached down and buried her fingers in Jem's hair, whether in encouragement or for the selfish need to reach her peak, she didn't know.

And then she felt Jem's fingers move. In and out in a simple rhythm she'd used before... except this time, her tongue flicked insistently against Hanna's core. Jem's fingers hit every sensitive spot in Hanna's sex and she could feel every muscle contracting around the invading fingers.

*

Jem wanted to watch Hanna fall apart under her tongue, her whole being ached with need. But she didn't want to lift her head even a fraction, taking her tongue away from the delicious spot she'd found to side of Hanna's pink button. So she relished in the sound of Hanna's strangled moans, the feel of Hanna's fingers pulling tight on her hair, and the thighs that clasped around her head like a vice.

She felt the rush of wetness against her fingers and the tightening of Hanna's core. She basked in the sense of satisfaction that came over her -- the need to please her woman, to claim her in the basest way, finally sated.

Jem licked her lips as she pulled away, needing to catch every drop of Hanna's essence on her tongue. When she withdrew her fingers, Hanna's thigh muscles twitched involuntarily.

"I can't feel my face," Hanna said, her voice low and drowsy.

A pleased smile curled Jem's lips as she wiped her fingers on a towel and pulled Hanna against her side. Hanna's breaths slowly steadied against Jem's skin.

"How did you do that?" she asked Jem, her gaze slowly beginning to focus.

"Do what? Give you pleasure?"

"Drown me in it." Hanna pressed a kiss to Jem's collarbone.

"If you have to ask, then you're out of practice."

Hanna frowned. "I was never in practice. You're the only woman I've ever been with."

Jem froze. "What?"

"I was in a coven for ten years, Jem. I don't know why you're surprised."

"I assumed you explored as a youth, as most of us do."

Jem's frown only got worse as Hanna shook her head.

She took a deep breath before she asked, "So, that night, when you tried to seduce me... it didn't matter if I was a man or woman. I could've been anyone and you would've tried it anyway."

"It wasn't like that..."

"Answer the question," Jem demanded through gritted teeth.

A long silence eclipsed them.

"Yes," Hanna finally said, her voice quiet.

Jem was off the bed in a second, taking her warmth with her in the rapidly cooling room. She found Hanna's clothes on the desk and threw the pile across the room. Hanna didn't move to catch them.

"Get dressed and leave."

"Jem, please just listen. Don't shut me out again."

"Leave!" The shout shocked Hanna into silence for a second. Jem was truly furious; the veins on her neck stood out prominently. The same neck Hanna had longed to kiss just moments before... still longed to kiss.

"You claimed me, Jem." Hanna's fingers rose to trace the mark on her shoulder. "Where would I go? My life is bound to yours."

Jem crossed her arms over her chest. "You're free to do as you wish. I have no desire to have a deceptive witch for a mate."

Hanna sputtered. "A deceptive witch? I've been trying to be honest with you since I returned to Goldhurst yet you seem to want to focus on the one mistake I've ever made my whole life."

"I don't want to hear this. You will not be shunned in Goldhurst; my people claim multiple mates. You're free to do as you wish."

Hanna felt the first spark of anger blossom in her chest. Her eyes narrowed. "As are you?"

A curt nod.

Hanna slid off the bed -- her movements slow, graceful, predatory.

"You will not touch another," she said with finality, her face red with anger. "If you do, I'll run the both of you through with my arrow. You are mine. And mine alone."