Dark waters swirled around Ceonbura as she fought to rise to the surface and escape into the air. She did not know which way was up, only that whichever way she tried to move the water pushed and dragged her in a different direction. Tossed about in the darkness, wishing she had learnt to swim better than she had, she eventually gave up, letting the current take her wherever it wished. In that moment beams of light filtered through the water and a figure appeared before her, reaching out both hands to cup her cheeks. The water fell away without a sound and Ceonbura found herself on a small green island in the middle of a vast, endless body of still water. She breathed slowly and deeply for a long moment as water dripped from her, and as her heart rate calmed, the figure before her materialised into a shorter woman with curly golden-brown hair, hands still cupping her face. Pushing up onto the tips of her toes, the pretty woman pulled her face closer and kissed her.
Ceonbura’s eyes opened. She was in a comfortable but unfamiliar bed, warm and thankfully not wet, and wrapped in numerous blankets. She was also, confusingly, alone. Ensuring that her blankets were tightly secured to conceal her nudity, she propped herself up to look around for Honeymist. She was nowhere to be seen in the cosy little bedroom, but a noise from the other room of the cottage suggested she was through the closed door.
A smile spread across Ceonbura’s lips as she recalled the day before. The picnic in the ruins overlooking the lake, sharing the last of her supply of Rohirric Mead. The swim in the lake, with Honeymist easily outpacing her, giving her encouragement and advice.
The kiss.
Ceonbura lay back down, her eyes closing as she remembered gentle hands tidying her hair, then holding her face, and soft lips pressing against her own. She remembered Honeymist’s arms wrapped around her as they rode to her cottage. Then the embarrassment at not having a dry change of clothes and having to sit eating supper wrapped in blankets as her clothes dried. She replayed their final conversation, where they confessed their feelings for one another. Feelings that Ceonbura still was not sure she fully understood.
The way her stomach felt like a wild horse was bucking and kicking in it as though to throw a rider whenever she saw her. The warmth that flooded her face whenever Honeymist smiled at her. The way she felt her mind melt at any touch. How she felt capable of doing anything so long as she had support from Honeymist. The desire to help Honeymist chase her dreams and see her succeed. It was overwhelming.
She had never felt this way about anyone and had never thought she would feel anything like this for another woman. Every story she had heard had been clear that love, attraction, romance, whatever she was meant to call what was she was feeling, happened between a man and a woman. It had never been spoken of as happening between two women. She had not even known women could feel attracted to other women in that way. Sure, she had been able to appreciate the way women looked, same as everyone, but this was different. It was so much more intense.
As she lay there in bed confused by the unfamiliar emotions, she did know one thing for certain. She wanted to see Honeymist and make sure she was well. Sitting up properly she saw her clothes laid out before the hearth where they had been left to dry before the fire the night before. Double checking the door was closed with a glance, she hurriedly pulled them on before stepping through to the other room.
Honeymist looked as good as she always did as she set down the final touches of a breakfast and Ceonbura felt the horse racing around her stomach at her smile. She radiated warmth, comfort, and positivity and Ceonbura wished she could stay there with her all day.
They shared a quick kiss, and Ceonbura could not stop the blush from rising in her cheeks. They sat down to eat, a process much easier than the night before as she did not have to keep one hand clutching blankets shut around herself. They talked, and Ceonbura assumed flirted, as they ate. When asked why she had been up so long, Honeymist assured her that she liked to sit outside in the quiet hours of the night which assuaged some of her worries that something was wrong or that she had caused a problem. They arranged a day to see each other again which did a little more to ease her concerns, even if it felt like it was too long till then.
Ceonbura was sad to leave but knew that all good things must come to an end and that it was for the best. They both needed time to process what had happened and spend some time doing their own things and that was fine and proper. She also knew that she would not stop thinking about Honeymist till they saw each other again. Her silky soft curls of golden-brown hair, the tenderness of her touch, the intoxicating smell of flowers, the look in her eyes as she said that she wanted Ceonbura all to herself. It would be very hard to pull her mind away from Honeymist in the coming days.
They shared another kiss as she departed, and Ceonbura rode away, looking back at the cottage on the edge of the dark forest until it was no longer in sight. She did not know the area well, so followed the path north to a road travelling east to west. Knowing she was west of Bree, she turned right and soon enough the tall hedgerow that encompassed the town was ahead of her, and not long after that she was back at the Prancing Pony Inn.
She tipped her saddle bags out onto her bed and had a moment of horror and embarrassment in the privacy of her own room. A bundle of dry clothes had fallen from the bag onto the bed. How had she forgotten that she had packed a change of clothes? Of course she had packed them! She had known she was going swimming and taken them just in case. She stared at the small bundle on her bed as she tried to understand how such a critical piece of information had left her mind.
“I don't think I'd have anything you can fit, but you can wrap yourself in a blanket, if you want?"
The memory of the words spoken by Honeymist came back to her. The blush that had spread on Honeymist’s cheeks and the look in her eyes as she had suggested it, and the implications of it had kicked any thoughts from Ceonbura’s mind. She had been left struggling for thoughts and words with bright red cheeks and a heart pounding like the hooves of a galloping horse. Any memory of spare clothes had left her in that moment. The embarrassment of sitting wrapped in blankets for an entire evening hit her anew all at once, and she was left feeling like a fool.
A stupid, love-struck fool.
