Can you do a fluffy story of the apprentice making dinner or baking bread with Asra?
Sorry for the wait. This was a fun request! Kipling loves cooking meals and trying out new recipes, especially if she has someone to help her. Enjoy!
~ 1K words
****
Kipling woke up from her nap to the smell of garlic sizzling in oil. As she lifted herself off the sofa, her hand wandered into her hair. Great. It was a mess. Of course she forgot to tie it back before falling asleep. She took a few seconds to fluff it out and smooth over the problem areas, knowing that Asra wouldn’t really care either way. He knew a thing or two when it came to the bedhead struggles.
Kipling met Asra in their cozy kitchen.
“Mmm. Is that stir fry I smell?”
Asra looked up from the stove. He shot her one of his warm smiles that he only saved for when they were alone. “I just started it up. Did you enjoy your nap?”
Kipling nodded as she approached him from behind. She wrapped her arms around his middle and leaned her cheek against his back. “Thanks for letting me sleep. I needed that.”
She felt his lean muscles flex under his shirt as he reached for the bowl of chopped onions and tossed them in with the sizzling garlic.
Kipling heard the smile in his voice as he said, “Trust me, even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could have woken you up. By the way, can you help me with the rice? You know I can never remember how much water to put in.”
Kipling laughed softly as she released him. “Asra, it’s the same every time. For every cup of rice, add twice as much water. A little less if you want firmer rice.”
Asra nodded. “Of course. Of course.” Then he paused and stared at the ceiling in contemplation. “And . . . I forgot again. Strange how that always happens.”
Kipling and Asra carried on with their light banter as they worked on the rice, beef, and eggs for the stir fry. When it was time to add the carrots, Kipling could not find any where they usually kept them.
“Asra? We’re out of carrots.” She said with a pout. She hated going without at least one hearty vegetable for a meal like this.
Asra shrugged like it was no big deal. “I can turn everything on low while you run down to the market.”
The thought of going back out made Kipling recoil internally. Unless it was for a special occasion, she really tried to avoid social interaction after a certain hour.
As if sensing her discomfort, Asra offered with a tilt of his brow, “Or you can grow some carrots right here.”
A few weeks ago Muriel had shown Kipling how to use magic to speed up the growth of certain plants. But she still wasn’t totally confident that she could pull it off on her own. Plus, when Muriel was demonstrating the technique, she had been more than a little distracted by his . . . assets.
“Um,” Kipling self-consciously tugged on the ghost lock by her temple, “I don’t know. They might come out mutated or something.”
Asra dialed down the stove and turned towards her. Pulling her in by the waist and touching his curly brow to hers, he said, “Kipling, it’s all going to the same place. Our stomachs don’t care if your carrots come out looking like gnarly starfish.”
Kipling chewed the inside of her cheek in uncertainty until Asra kissed her forehead. Apparently that was all she needed to find her confidence. Suddenly determined to rescue their dinner, she shook Asra off and went to go find an empty plant pot. She had dozens of them in their little plot out back. Once she lined the pot with some soil, she brought it into the kitchen and tried to remember everything Muriel taught her.
“Ugh. It’s not working,” Kipling groaned after a few failed attempts.
Asra approached and said, “What’s the problem?”
Kipling shook her head. “I don’t know. Something’s missing. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Hm. Maybe I can help.”
Kipling didn’t expect Asra to take her by the chin and pull her attention away from the little pot of soil. He tilted her head back as he threaded an arm around her waist and hugged her against him. Though his hold on her was strong, his kiss was lithe and supple.
Kipling momentarily lost herself, forgetting about the damn carrots along with everything else in the room. She followed the currents of magic passing from Asra to her. He deepened the kiss so she could chase them further.
Then with a sigh and a contented smile, Asra released her. All she had to hold onto now was the concentration of lavender tones in his hooded gaze.
Kipling exhaled. “Thanks a lot. You expect me to be able to focus after that?”
Asra’s smile only grew more confident. “Just try it one more time.”
Kipling was not amused as she turned to the pot and started over again. With a deep breath, she initiated a stillness within herself, within her thoughts as she sank her fingers into the soil. Those tingling charged particles from Asra’s lips sparked again along her skin. Like a tiny lightning storm, they traveled and flashed from her head to her fingertips.
“I . . . I think I did it!”
Kipling and Asra both bent over the pot as she dug out the result of her spell. They were definitely carrots and thankfully, they weren’t shaped like starfish, but...
Kipling giggled. “They’re purple!”
Not the rusty purple like the ones that grew in the wild. These carrots were luminous and enchanting, much like Asra’s eyes. They were so attractive that Kipling would usually hesitate to chop them up and throw them in a pan. But she was hungry and as wondrous as this vegetable looked, she wanted to eat it.
Asra, who shared that sentiment, did not hesitate to clean them off and chop them up. Then he turned the heat up on the pan and sauteed them in with the onions, beef and other sauces. They both watched on in amusement as the glowing carrots dyed the sauce and the onions the same color.
They ate their dinner on the sofa, musing over how Muriel might react to Kipling’s new trick. Asra shot her another teasing grin as he casually held up his fork and twirled a glistening carrot chunk.
“So, I was thinking . . . what color do you think these would be if it was Muriel you kissed?”
Kipling was too hungry and exhausted from the spell to properly sass him back. So she picked a carrot out from her bowl and tossed it at his face.
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Vulpes Animus ~ In which a humble gardener takes a luxurious bath...
~ 1.2k words
cw: soft lemon 🍋
Catch up on the Gardener Saga
Kipling had never had a bath like this before.
She was up to her neck in water so hot that it soothed. And thanks to all the oils she poured in, it left her skin and hair slick and heavily scented. As she submerged her entire body in the deep drum, she wished Asra was there to massage the soap into her hair. Her dark textured curls, laden with moisture, pooled and stretched all around her. They unraveled from tight coils to long spirals. Only water could create this effect. As soon as everything dried, her hair would return to its free, unbothered state.
As Kipling came to the surface and stopped just so her nose was above the water, she wondered if Asra’s bath was going as well as hers.
It’s hard to believe that he’s right on the other side of that wall.
She looked out of the paneless window below at the palace grounds and then out at Vesuvia in the distance. The domed buildings and towers covered in mosaic tiles efficiently hid most of the ramshackle architecture and quilted corridors.
From this vantage point, she could start to understand how those who never left lofty perches like this could become one among the vain courtiers who were so out of touch with the rest of society.
Kipling closed her eyes and tipped onto her back. Though the room was warm from the steam of the bath, the parts of her body that met the air felt colder than the rest.
Within seconds, her sensitive nipples created armor against the chilly breeze.
Once again, Kipling’s thoughts took her back to the magician. And then further to the thought of his smirking mouth closing around one of her excited nipples.
Her hand wandered to that very spot. The other drifted between her legs. The scented oils eased her fingers’ journey. Kipling’s spine arched as she synced the circular strokes of her thumb over her nipple with the rhythm of her other arm.
The heat of the bath combined with her efforts made her perspire. Kipling kept Asra in her mind. She shut her eyes and made herself believe that he was in the bath too, touching and fucking her with his long, deft fingers.
“Oh!”
Kipling came, but it wasn’t as intense as she would have liked. She submerged herself a few more times, washing off the internal judgement that lingered long after the small climax. Though she had known of Asra for months, she reminded herself that they technically only met an hour ago. She wondered how she could be so eager to sleep with someone in such a short time.
The real question is, who wouldn’t want to sleep with Asra?
Asra was the kind of handsome that one only read about in storybooks. Plus, he was intelligent, magically gifted, and one of the friendliest people she’d ever met.
The more Kipling thought of how much of a catch Asra was, the more she realized that there could be no way he was a bachelor. He was too damn perfect.
Kipling sighed. All of the heat and the oils were starting to make her feel suffocated. She climbed out of the bath, dried herself off, and put on the sheer slip that opened down the front. She noticed how its teal and gold design really complemented her skin tone. It gave her a suspicion that whatever outfit was waiting for her in the bedchamber would be of similar design.
Kipling took a few more minutes to apply the oils to her hair. Though she didn’t have her usual spread of butters and creams, what Nadia provided would get her through the rest of the afternoon. After evenly distributing the oils and removing any pesky tangles with her fingers, Kipling gathered up her towel and made her way out of the bath chamber.
To her surprise, Asra emerged very shortly after and joined her in the corridor. Kipling noticed how his entire face was several shades redder than normal. She would have assumed that it came from the hot bath if his body language wasn’t so stiff and his eyes weren’t darting every which way.
“Kipling! How was your bath?”
Asra’s sheer robe revealed much of his slender frame, but Kipling still felt at ease walking the palace halls with him.
“Very relaxing. I enjoyed myself.” She flashed him a contented smile.
Instead of returning it, his face sobered. “You hair . . . it looks so different.”
She snorted. “Just wait. It’ll be a mess again by the time tea is over.”
Some of Asra’s seriousness dissipated. “If by a ‘mess’ you mean a natural halo of untamed beauty,” he gave her a pointed look, “then I am looking forward to it.”
Kipling laughed as they approached the door to their designated rooms.
“See you there,” she said, letting herself inside. It came as a surprise when Asra’s arm shot out and blocked the door from closing.
Kipling blinked up at him. “Asra?”
He appeared to be struggling to find the right words. “Could I, perhaps, walk you to the parlor once we’ve finished getting dressed?”
Cheerfully, Kipling said, “Oh, of course! We did plan to sit together, didn’t we?”
“Yes. And,” Asra glanced down and then back up again, “Kipling, I wanted you to know that . . . you were on my mind just now. In the bath.”
She wasn’t sure why Asra would ever tell her this, but it brought so much heat to her core. The silence between the two of them stretched on. The magician bit his lip and looked down at the floor.
“My gods. That was . . . so inappropriate. You’ll have to pardon me. I don’t seem to be thinking straight today.”
He started to pull back from the door.
“Asra, wait.”
Kipling rested a hand on his chest and urgently gripped the collar of his robe, pulling him towards her. They both stared at the bold placement of her hand. Kipling relaxed her fingers so that her palm was spread across the surface of his right pectoral.
“I . . .” She shook her head, not believing what she was about to say. “While I was in the bath, I was thinking about you too.”
They reestablished eye contact.
Then Kipling took a long breath before asking, “Do you have a girlfriend?”
A series of emotions passed over Asra’s face. “Uh – no. I do not.”
Just to be sure, she asked, “A boyfriend or . . . ?”
He looked off to the side. “Not that long ago, I did. But we’re done.”
Finally, Kipling removed her hand. “Okay. I was just curious. I’m . . . going to get dressed now.”
It took Asra a moment to realize that he was still holding the door open. He backed out of the nook and apologized. “Right! Right. I’m so sorry. I’ll go get changed too.”
Kipling watched him shuffle off. Then she closed the door and leaned against it. She didn’t start getting dressed until her heart stopped trying to beat its way out of her chest.
This fic came about when I discovered @forgedarcana and their apprentice Malon Almasi! It didn’t take long for me and my own apprentice to fall in love with this sweet gremlin. Take a look at how they first meet!
~ 2200 words
A Stranger Aura
In which a humble gardener meets a feral wanderer… .
Despite how unpopular it would make her among the other merchants, the innkeeper was determined to smoke out her communal fireplace by the end of the afternoon. She was convinced that it was the only way to purge her establishment of the family of bats that had taken residence there.
Kipling Bronne absorbed this information along with other gossip highlights as she arrived for weekly upkeep. She had eleven storefronts to cover. Her potted arrangements were looking a little more overgrown than usual. Some even had leaves that were glistening with sap. Not poisonous or uncommon, but also not particularly appealing to the city dwellers as they went about their errands.
Kipling took in the sorry state of her plants and groaned internally as her mind generated a lengthy to do list. She really had her work cut out for her.
The block was busy that day. And so was Kipling if anyone took the time to notice. Yet it kept none of the gossipy merchants from interrupting her often and baptizing her ears in the latest scoops whether she invited them or not.
“Kip, have you been by Little Brother’s yet?”
Little Brother. The innkeeper, who happened to be large-boned, robust and a widow, but nicknames were sticky, stubborn things. For the fourth time that morning, Kipling heard about Little Brother’s pest control problem and her radical solution.
“I mean, don’t you think that’s inhumane, Kip?”
Kipling briefly turned away from her work to offer a look of consideration. “I think Little Brother’s customers are tired of hatchlings wandering from the nest and falling in their soup.” She also thought the other businesses thrived off the innkeeper’s unhappy tenants, but she plastered a smile over that little sentiment.
As the day dragged on, the interruptions did not slow down. Kipling could only rely on her familiar’s steady chittering and encouraging ear nibbles to keep her focused as much as possible.
However, as the gardener worked her way further down the street, she noticed that her pygmy lemur grew more and more antsy. Taro was already a lively companion. Add a dash of neurosis on a day like this and it really sent Kipling’s nerves spiraling.
“Taro,” She finally huffed, “what is the matter with you?”
Taro whimpered and bounced around Kipling’s ankles. Usually she could tolerate the lemur’s sporadic bouts of mania, but it was very hot and she wasn’t in the mood. Work was tedious, and the damn shop owners kept bothering her, and —
“Kipling! Might I have a word?”
The inquiry snapped Taro out of her neurotic rain dance. She scrambled so fast onto Kipling’s shoulder that it made the gardener sway on her feet.
The newcomer steadied her and asked if she was all right. Clearly they were not going to leave, so Kipling affected yet another friendly smile and said, “Can I help you?”
The shopkeeper wrung their hands and threw a glance at the intersection off to the right. Kipling followed their nervous gaze, but saw nothing amiss in the throng of passerby.
“Don’t you see that?”
Kipling narrowed her eyes. “See what?”
The shopkeeper steered her gaze with their finger. “That. Coming back this way right now.”
Taro chittered again with sudden urgency.
Kipling saw what the shopkeeper was talking about. A Vesuvian to be sure, but walking with a strange gait, like a cross between a raptor and a toddler. With a walk like that combined with those bright, shifty eyes, it had the potential to put people on edge.
“I don’t know what manner of vagrant she is, but she’s been prowling the intersection for the past three days.” The merchant threw their hands in the air. “I can’t figure out what she wants! She won’t buy anything. Whenever someone tries to talk to her, she barks. Once she even hissed at me!”
Kipling fought to stifle a laugh. Yes, the lurker was odd, but otherwise she seemed harmless.
“I’m not sure why you’re telling me this.”
The shopkeeper fixed her with a desperate gaze. “I was wondering, would you mind maybe just seeing if you can get through to her? Make her go away? Or encourage her to buy something at least. Anything would be better than haunting the crossway like this.”
Kipling tried to think of a polite way to decline when Taro suddenly bolted from her shoulder.
“Taro, no!” She hastily threw her work tools in her satchel and took off after the purple lemur. It was too hot and crowded to be chasing anything, let alone something so small and fast. And what do you know? Her familiar was headed straight for the wild eyed vagrant.
Taro was already coiled around the wanderer’s shoulders by the time Kipling caught up. Thankfully they were off in a spot outside of the foot traffic. It was shadier there. The road tapered off into a more natural setting. Further in were clusters of trees and beyond that a sparsely wooded glen.
As Kipling approached, she was able to get a better read on Taro’s new friend. The closer she got, the more she was confronted by a rather unique aura. Gauzy and yellow – a feral essence. Almost exclusively so. Rare for a Vesuvian. Most tended to be elementals or some manner of seer.
The limbs of the stranger’s magic stretched far, but flailed from a lack of practice. Kipling wondered if the carrier even knew what she was capable of. The stranger was now letting Taro groom her and . . . grooming the lemur in return.
Taro was not the kind to jump on people she didn’t know, so Kipling wasn’t really sure how to go about this. Not only did she have to ask for her familiar back, but she also had to find a way to tell the stranger to run along – that she was scaring the poor shopkeepers.
The stranger and Taro carried on, only vaguely aware of Kipling’s presence. That was okay, she still hadn’t worked out the details of what she wanted to say. Plus she was still studying the vagrant and weighing her appearance against the presence of her wild aura. She was tall enough that Kipling had to look up, which happened often because from her point of view everyone was tall, no matter what was considered standard.
Kipling registered skin that was baked by sunlight and colonized by an army of freckles. Lastly, the stranger had a youthful mop of dark hair and a scar on her lip that gave the illusion of an errant fang. Kipling wouldn’t have been surprised if the shopkeepers had dismissed it as such.
Despite Kipling’s proximity, those bright eyes kept flitting about, fixating on pretty much anything and everything.
“Uh,” Kipling was about as close as she dared to approach. “Hi. Sorry about that.” She gestured to Taro. “She doesn’t usually jump on people’s heads.”
The stranger regarded her briefly, so fast she almost missed it. “It’s okay. Taro is really good at finding ticks.”
Taro chirped appreciatively.
Kipling blinked. “How . . . ? How did you know her name was Taro?”
The wandering gaze settled. “She told me.” She said it like it was the only natural answer.
Given her sunny aura, Kipling wasn’t surprised. She narrowed her eyes at her familiar, but relaxed her shoulders a little. “What else did she tell you?”
The stranger giggled. “That you’re called Kipling.” Then she shot out a long arm. “I’m called Malon. Or Mal if you want.” The way she pronounced her own name came out like a yawned mewl. It made her wonder if that’s why the shopkeepers mistook her for something primal.
Kipling smiled. “Hi, Mal. You can just call me Kip.” As she shook Mal’s hand she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do more – hug this feral being or simply give her a bath.
Taro whined in protest as Kipling pried her from Mal’s curly mop. “So, I have to ask. What exactly are you doing out here?” Not happy with the way that came out, she added, “I mean, is there a reason why you keep going back and forth along this street?”
Mal’s gaze was back to wandering, and this time she was sniffing the air. “Do you know what panic dreaming is?”
Bewildered, Kipling said that she had never heard of it.
Mal gave a curious grunt. “Hm. I’ve been wondering why it’s so loud over here.” And when it seemed that her answer was not going to evolve beyond that, Kipling tried a different approach.
“Are you,” she paused, trying to choose her words wisely, “looking for food?”
Mal grinned and reached for Taro. “I can find my own food. See?” She extracted a tick with ease and popped it into her mouth.
For a moment Kipling was struck with disbelief, but it didn’t last long before she burst into laughter.
“That is . . . impressive.” And she meant it.
Maybe it was the heat or the boredom of the day’s tasks, but Kipling found Mal’s atypical behavior strangely liberating.
Even though she had Taro back, she wasn’t ready to leave. And she noted that Mal had chosen to stay where she was though there was nothing holding her back from prowling the storefronts again.
Kipling paused in her thoughts. The stores.
She sobered and said, “Mal? Could you come with me? I think I might know how to help you.”
When Mal cocked an eyebrow at her, Kipling reached for her hand and added, “With eh . . . the noises you’ve been hearing. Panic dreaming, right?”
At that Mal relaxed and wordlessly allowed Kipling to guide her through the intersection. The shopkeeper that had asked for Kipling’s help watched on with eyes that begged her to quit leading Mal further and further into the plaza. But she ignored all of the judgemental stares until she reached the door of the innkeeper.
“Little Brother,” she called once they were inside, “I think I found the answer to your pest problem.”
Kipling’s instincts were right. Mal’s feral aura was strong enough that it gave her the ability to not only communicate with, but also draw animals to her. She was like a beacon for the colony of bats in Little Brother’s chimney. The whole market was completely awestruck as dozens of bats teetered across the cobblestones on all fours, marching blindly in Mal’s wake towards the woods. Kipling and Taro followed close behind, careful to watch out for any strays that might wander off in the wrong direction.
Once they reached the shade of the trees, the bats opened their eyes and properly flocked to a small, but conspicuous cave. When Mal and Kipling caught up with them, Mal strolled into the cave and peered around.
“Didn’t know this was here until they showed me. Cool.” She made herself comfortable in the mouth of the cavern, almost as if it belonged to her. Kipling also noticed how Mal’s aura seemed more relaxed than before, tamer even. Her gaze still traveled, but in reflection as opposed to fruitless searching.
Kipling held Taro against her chest and scratched behind her ears. “Aren’t you coming back? I’m sure the shopkeepers won’t mind having you around now.”
Mal shrugged and shook her head. “Nah. I like it here.” She exhaled. “It’s quiet.”
Kipling didn’t feel right about leaving her new friend here alone in a cave of bats and who knows what else.
“Do you have any plans for dinner?”
Swinging her bare feet and bobbing her head to some imaginary drum, Mal pointed to the ceiling of sleeping bats and declared, “I’ll just have whatever they’re having.”
Kipling glanced up and grimaced. Crickets and cave worms? I don’t think so.
But she realized that she wouldn’t get anywhere with the mother hen approach. So she tried another.
Kipling gathered Taro close and whispered, “Guess what we’re having, girl? That’s right! Glazed salmon. Your favorite.”
The mere mention of the dish activated Taro’s excitement. Kipling knew that Mal wouldn’t be able to ignore the lemur’s projection of all of those sensory delights.
For once Mal stopped wiggling her toes and looking around. She went absolutely still and fixated Kipling with a gaze so direct and an energy so concentrated that it practically tickled.
“You’re really going to feed me?”
Kipling granted herself silent applause as she nodded and held out her hand. Instead of taking it, Mal popped to her feet and rushed forward.
Kipling squeaked as Mal fastened a pair of wiry arms around her and hoisted her off the ground.
“The bats,” she said, “told me to thank you.”
Kipling suddenly became aware of Mal’s scent of lingering campfires. It stirred some sad ache on the inside when she sensed the solitude underneath. She surrendered to the embrace, leaning her head against Mal’s and breathing in more old firewood.
“You did all the work. I just showed you the way.”
It was getting late and Kipling wanted to go home. She attempted to disentangle herself so they could leave this creepy cave, but the beast whisperer had other plans. Kipling made another ungraceful sound as Mal spun around and hoisted her onto her back. Taro made herself comfortable on Mal’s head and chirped authoritatively.
Mal said as she marched forward, “Kip, you should get some rest. Taro can show me how to get there.”
It hadn’t occurred to Kipling that the shifty-eyed vagrant had picked up on her fatigue. She was tempted to say that she wasn’t tired, but she had a feeling that Mal would know better than to fall for that.
How about some good times with Asra in his Oasis? He must have all sorts of magic at his fingertips there to make things more fun and interesting 👀 Like perhaps some temperature/texture manipulation? Hmm?
Soooo this was actually a collaboration with @apprenticealec ! Make sure to show her some love. Our apprentices had a lot of fun celebrating Asra’s birthday in his tropical oasis ....
*Not quite a lemon, but still on the acidic side! Enjoy!!!
****
When Alec and Kipling asked Asra what he wanted to do for his birthday, they were both surprised to see him shrug and say, “I just want to spend time with you two.”
Alec laughed, slinging one arm over his shoulder and the other around Kipling’s waist. “Love, all we do is spend time together.”
“Isn’t there anything special you want? Somewhere we could go?” Kipling asked, holding Asra’s hands in hers.
Asra thought for a moment, pursing his lips. “I don’t think we’ve all been to my Gate together before. Why don’t we go there?”
Kipling’s brown eyes met Alec’s blue ones as they exchanged a secret, not-so-innocent smile. Then Alec joined hands with Kipling with Asra’s at the center. “Let’s go!”
Once they reached the magical realm, and felt the soft ground of Asra’s oasis under their feet, the three of them raced each other over to the pools, kicking up water in all directions. Shrieks of laughter echoed through the air around them as they abandoned their clothes. Soon enough, they were all soaking wet.
“Asra, let’s play a game!” Kipling said, wrapping her arms around his hips. She let her lips fall into a small pout and Alec mirrored her, standing on Asra’s other side and holding onto his bicep.
Asra laughed, turning to press quick kisses to both of their foreheads. “What did you have in mind?”
“What about Marco Polo?” Alec suggested.
“Hm, really?” Asra raised an eyebrow, studying the two of them closely.
Kipling nodded, dark hair bouncing around her face. “Yeah! Please?”
A fond smile spreading across his face, Asra went to respond, but Alec interrupted him with a finger to his lips.
“Don’t you want to know what your prize is if you catch both of us?”
Asra’s eyes glinted in the light, and he quirked his mouth up slyly. “Oh, I didn’t know there’d be a prize. Go on.”
Kipling shot Alec a look and cleared her throat. “I thought we weren’t going to tell!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Alec laughed, stepping away from the other two, deeper into the water. “She’s right, Asra. I guess you’ll just have to find out. If you win, that is.” Slowly she sunk down until her head was the only thing floating above the water, her long hair fanned out behind her.
Asra rolled his eyes and sighed, but his grin never faded. Kipling snuck a kiss to his cheek before running into the water after Alec, giggling. “Okay, now, no peeking!” she called.
“And no using magic to find us either,” Alec added, giving him a pointed look.
Asra said with affected innocence, “You really think I would do that?”
“Yes, you would!” they chimed.
With a chuckle, Asra closed his eyes and stepped further into the pool. Once they were sure he wasn’t peeking from under his white eyelashes, the women seperated, careful not to disturb the water around them.
“Marco!”
“Polo!”
Asra cocked his head towards Kipling, who squealed when he lunged for her, just missing her hand. Alec covered her mouth to hide her laugh, but Asra still heard her, and turned his attention her way.
“Marco!”
“Polo!”
It was Alec’s turn to jump back, and taking a deep breath, she swam under him, between his legs. His fingers just missed her hair, and she joined Kipling on the far side of the pool, the two of them trying and failing to be quiet.
“Marco!”
“Polo!”
Alec and Kipling held their breath, and this time, Asra moved slowly, straining his ears to catch the sounds of their voices. As the cool water flowed around him, he had an idea. Heat poured from his fingertips as he ran them through the water, and suddenly the pool transformed into a hot spring, steam rising into the air.
“Oh!” Kipling couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips, and Asra used that moment to strike, a cheeky grin on his face as his hands reached out and grabbed – nothing.
Their voices came from behind him. Somehow they were just as far away as before. Pouting, Asra tried again. “You two are really making me work for this surprise, aren’t you? Marco!”
“Polo!”
Asra resisted the strong urge to try to find them with his magic, and instead let the temperature of the pool drop, sucking all of the heat back into his hands. Both Alec and Kipling gasped this time, but one was far closer. This time, Asra threw both arms out and was able to latch onto one giggling, squirming Kipling, who laughed as he pulled her to his chest.
“Got one!”
“That wasn’t fair!” She cried, and Asra opened his eyes slightly to look at her, hair wet and clinging to her face.
“You never said I couldn’t use magic at all,” he teased, and she sighed, shaking her head. Turning his attention back to their lover waiting in the pool, Asra closed his eyes again. “Marco!”
“Polo!” Alec answered, and both Asra and Kipling could hear her teeth chattering from across the water.
Asra tapped his chin, smirking. He let the water around him and Kipling heat back up, and heard Alec whine, aching for the warm water.
“Oh, doesn’t the water just feel so good over here, Kipling?”
“Definitely! So warm.” Kipling laughed, watching Alec’s eyebrows furrow together, stubbornness keeping her away.
Asra stretched one hand out towards where he thought Alec was. He smiled. “Aren’t you cold, Alec?”
“Sh-shut up!” She pouted, cold, wet hair draped over her shoulders. She didn’t want to give in, but it looked so relaxing, and her fingers were starting to feel numb.
“Hm, suit yourself then,” Asra said, pulling his hand back, but he felt the water shift around him, and knew that Alec was right in front of him.
He reached out slowly, and once he felt his fingers graze Alec’s wrist, grabbed her and pulled her into the warmer waters. She instantly melted against him, wrapping her cold arms around his waist.
“Traitor,” she said, giving Kipling a half-hearted glare.
She shrugged. “Guilty.” Then she smiled and snaked one arm around Alec and the other around Asra. Once they had all sufficiently warmed up, Asra looked between them, raising an eyebrow. “So, about that prize?”
Kipling and Alec shared a look. “Close your eyes!” Kipling said, and Asra pouted.
“Again?”
“Trust us,” Alec said, tightening her grip on his waist.
With a hum of agreement Asra let his eyes slide shut, keeping one hand on each of his lovers’ backs. Alec glanced at Kipling, and when she nodded, they both leaned forward to kiss a corner of Asra’s mouth, their lips meeting in the middle. He sighed happily, digging his fingers into their skin, pulling them closer.
Alec left Kipling to pepper kisses across Asra’s face as she moved slightly lower, pressing soft kisses to his neck and shoulder. Asra started kissing Kipling back, cupping her chin to keep her still, while his other hand traveled up Alec’s back to bury in her hair.
When they all finally pulled away from each other, their eyes were hazy, and Alec laughed, leaning to kiss Kipling’s cheek.
Asra arched a pale eyebrow at them both. “Why are we stopping all of a sudden?”
Kipling stifled a giggle. “Maybe we can continue this somewhere we can get more comfortable?”
Asra’s hands coasted down their backs, past their waists. “Oh yeah? Did you have a certain place in mind?”
Alec tapped her chin. “Oh, I bet we can come up with something interesting.”
Combination of #6 and #26 (A Kiss of Relief + Tending an Injury)
This request came from @forgedarcana. The apprentice Malon belongs to them!
***
Mal and Kip are hiking in the woods when Kip sprains her ankle after sliding down a cliffside. Thankfully, Kip is okay when Mal finds her.
“Ow. Ow. Ow.” Kipling closed her eyes and flinched as Malon hovered over her injury.
Mal looked up at her and sighed. “Kip, I haven’t even touched you yet. You have to relax.”
Kip tried, but she did not like pain. She peeked open her eyes to see that Mal was still studying her bruised ankle. Kip didn’t think it looked all that bad, so then why was Mal…?
“Mal? Are you shaking?”
Kip leaned forward as much as she could without disturbing her ankle and took Malon’s face in her hands. Mal’s freckles glistened under a wet sheen.
Kip hummed softly as she attempted to dry her partner’s face.
“When you took that fall,” Mal’s words came out strangled, “I thought you were...”
More tears replaced the ones that got away. Kip used her palms to level Mal’s face. She matched her wet, mossy green gaze with her steady brown one. After taking a moment to admire Mal’s colony of freckles, Kip whispered, “Listen to me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Mal drew her fingers up along the gardener’s arms until they rested on the backs of her hands. She turned her face into one of Kip’s palms and breathed in deeply, sealing in the scent of saltwater and tea tree oil.
“I know,” Mal sighed. “It was just scary. I was scared, Kip.”
Shifting a little to get more comfortable, Kipling asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Mal glanced up from Kip’s palm, catching her off guard with that verdant gaze.
“Yes.”
Kip tipped up her eyebrows in question as Mal drew closer. “Stay absolutely still.”
It sounded like something Mal would say before tending to Kip’s injury, but that’s not what was happening. Mal uncrossed her legs and pulled Kip between them while she bathed her lips in fresh tears and slippery, slow kisses.
When Kip turned her body to sink against Mal’s, her ankle throbbed in protest. Kip ignored it, letting her hand wander to the back of Mal’s head where short curls claimed her fingers like roots to the soil.
Every now and then Kip would tighten her grip, as if to remind Mal that she was here to stay.
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1. Which character(s) is your apprentice romancing? What attracts your apprentice to them?
Currently just Asra! Though.... Kip does sees potential with Muriel, Nadia, and Valerius
Asra – Yikes. What attracts Kipling to him? Literally . . . Everything. She’s very weak for magicians in general. Especially powerful intellectuals who know what the hell they’re doing with their magic. Even though Asra has a lot to brag about, he’s not arrogant at all and cares more about the people in his life than gaining power. And physically, she finds him just hnnnnn . . . just freaking attractive, okay?
Muriel – His connection to nature. Kipling’s secondary is green magic and it’s something that she would like to develop further. He seems to be a pretty private person with a big heart, and Kipling feels like she can relate to that. And those green eyes? She has a hard time looking away.
Nadia – First impressions? The Countess is drop dead *insert every possible synonym for gorgeous.* Still...at first Nadia came off way too snobbish for Kipling. But after spending time with her, Kipling was able to understand the walls Nadia puts up and why. Turns out they have a lot in common when it comes to their fears and insecurities. They’re currently good friends (Nadia’s the only one who has been a shoulder for Kipling to cry on).
Valerius – Kipling honestly doesn’t know why she would ever dream of romancing this arrogant peacock bastard. Maybe it’s because of his dumb pretty braid. Maybe it’s because he plays hard to get. She has a feeling that if she ever got the chance, she could knock him off his high horse.
2. If your apprentice was a romanceable character in The Arcana, what would their route be like? (Feel free to be as detailed or as vague as you’d like.)
When it comes to Kipling’s brand of magic, she’s the last of her kind. One of the reasons she’s in Vesuvia is because she fled persecution in her homeland because of her magic. But as her magic manifests more and more, she needs to find a way to control and understand it. She never really had a mentor to guide her and everyone who knew anything about grey magic is gone now. So all she has to rely on are ancient texts. Her route would involve seeking out a sunken library and uncovering these ancient texts. Kipling’s internal conflict would deal with coming to terms with her heritage and overcoming the fear of being targeted for her unique powers.
3. How does your apprentice take their coffee? Do they even drink coffee? If not, what do they drink instead to put pep in their step?
Kipling actually prefers tea (of all sorts. She can talk about tea forever), but she drinks coffee on the days she’s working because it’s a more effective energizer. She likes a lot of cream and just a dash of sugar.
4. If your apprentice was attending a potluck, what would they take as their contribution?
Kipling would probably make something based on a recipe from her island. Something easy like fried plantains or peas and rice. She’d also bring a dessert like coconut tart or guava duff. Yum!
5. What are some of your apprentice’s minor and major fears? What’s the best way to comfort them when afraid?
Major: a general fear of failure / not being good enough. She deals with it on a daily basis, but it can be pretty crippling at times. She’s also afraid of someone finding out about her powers and hurting someone close to her because of it.
Minor: Forgetting important things related to her plants / job. Unknowingly offending people.
Honestly, Kipling feels a lot better after talking about her fears. She knows that a lot of her concerns don’t have immediate solutions, but talking it out helps her rationalize with whatever she’s feeling. Also hugs. Long, snuggly Hugs are very good forms of medicine in her opinion!
15. First response: “Uh, Asra? I see a bed for me, but where are you going to sleep?”
Later: “Asra, is this your idea of spooning? Babe, I am cold . . . oh, that’s much better.”
19. I’ve actually got a playlist in the works! A lot of the music reflects Kipling’s nurturing side, some reflect her relationship with Asra, and the rest are about water / the ocean because she’s an islander at heart.
