《Level: Zero》Volume II, Chapter 4: Alone Time (Part II)

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"Winter is half over," Elin said.

Walter stoked the coals on the hearth, and Elin balanced a tripod over them. She hung a pot of water to boil. For a moment, the sounds of Walter raking the coals, water boiling, Elin chopping vegetables, and the cold wind outside filled the room.

Elin liked her new kitchen. The previous owners invested upgrades into the buildings of the property. Cobblestones paved the floor, and the countertop was spacious. She wanted to hang dried herbs on the walls, stack barrels and pots of preserves on out-of-traffic flooring, and stock the pantry. She wanted Walter's stomach to growl when she cooked. Eating at Camp Wolf was a starkly utilitarian ordeal, and she desired to undo that experience. They still waited for the grain ark and a quern-stone delivery, though Elin doubted she'd have time to bake bread.

Elin started to speak, after gathering a breath, but it stopped before it passed her vocal cords. She sighed and restarted.

"Do you know what Heart's Herb is?"

Walter yawned and glanced away from the orange fire on the hearth. The heat blanketed him and, combined with the short daylight hours, caused sleepiness. "No, sorry. What's that?"

The heat on her cheeks increased, and Elin guessed they glowed. She could feel the pulse in her neck. "It's... it's nothing."

Why am I so nervous? I've already touched his manhood, and I know how it works now. Is it this much of a difference between that and completing the act? Surely not. Queen Margaret's stories don't detail such apprehension!

"Where did Sister Lora and Laira go?" Walter asked.

"She's visiting Priestess Evelyn, to relay our invitation. They'll be away until tomorrow."

"I see," Walter mused. "We have some alone time, then?"

"Mhm."

As usual, lunch proved to be a modest and light distraction, and Elin regretted not roasting mutton. The vegetable porridge didn't fit the upcoming occasion.

"I have a surprise for you," Walter said.

Elin's heartbeat slammed against her ribcage like a hammer upon an anvil. She forced herself to rationalize away her anticipation because there's no way Walter figured out her intention. Unless he did? "What is it?"

Walter buckled up his gambeson, took her hand, and led her outside. Questions bubbled up, but the sudden mood silenced her, and she reminded herself not to ruin it.

Unwilling to dirty her armor while cooking, Elin changed into her tunic. Her bare feet crunched ice-crusted snow, immune to the frost. When she looked ahead, she noticed Walter's previous footprints. He secretly prepared something. The sun slipped below the horizon while they ate, and only residual light remained.

Several subsidiary buildings supported the main house, one of which Elin familiarized herself with was the spring house. Neatly cut stones built its walls, and an iron gate secured its door, creating a durable structure. It housed and protected their source of potable water, a natural spring. The building next to it she hadn't explored yet, but Walter's previous bootprints led to it.

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The proximity to the spring house clued her in. It's a bathhouse.

Walter removed a candle and flint and steel from his pocket. With a single click, a spark landed on the wick, and, after a few breaths, the flame flickered to life.

"That's impressive," Elin raised her eyebrows, "Not even I could do that."

"I thought you might like that, I've been practicing. You did say men should be good with fire?"

You can't do something like that with just practice, you simply got lucky. I won't complain.

Walter extended his hand and led her inside. He spread his candlelight to several other prepared candlesticks, and a soft glow increased in the room. The tilework was masterful. Each corner of the room represented a different stage of bathing: undressing, scrubbing, soaking, and preening. Elin noticed the barrels of prepared water and the pre-stacked wood in the fireplace. Walter held the candle to it, and it quickly turned into a crackling display.

"Walter," Elin said, "this is a pleasant surprise..."

"You looked disappointed when you had to fight alone, so, I wanted to show you, I appreciated your hard work."

"If that is so, then I will keep the barn filled to the brim."

Walter chuckled, "One of the hardest things for me adjusting to life here was the lack of daily showers. Let's make a regular thing out of it."

"It's not that they're not, we're not barbarians, it's only..." Elin said, "Our circumstances beforehand were difficult. When I was a child, I remember--" Elin's voice trailed off. She tried to stop the memory, but it finished despite her. Priestess Evelyn often scrubbed her hair when she was still small enough to kneel in a barrel, while she hummed. Elin's cheek twitched, and she squeezed her hands together.

They relaxed when Walter put his hand on hers, "The past isn't in here, it's just the two of us."

He says the right things, from time to time.

After warming the water, Elin let Walter undress her, and then helped him. Bathing protocol dictated scrubbing after, so she sat on a bench, and Walter lathered up her hair.

"It's hot," she said. "It's nice though, don't cool it down."

"You can feel it? I would have thought your resistances would block it. Maybe you're voluntarily forgoing your savings throw."

"That's good to know, for later."

"Why's that?" he asked.

Elin refused to answer, and Walter didn't pressure.

When they finished soaping and rinsing each other, they eased into the bathtub. A faint cloud of steam rose from the surface. Elin could sense the cold outside struggling to permeate into the bathhouse, fought off by the fire. For now, the heat comforted them.

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With her back settled into his chest, Elin felt the rapid beating of Walter's heart.

So, he's nervous, too. He figured me out. Or, he knew all along and was waiting for me.

"Are you going to tell me what Heart's Herb is?" Walter asked.

"It's a rare and expensive ingredient," Elin's voice caught in her chest, so she tried a roundabout approach to explain. "It's for women to consume. You stated you were worried about pregnancy, so we avoid the deed, directly."

"Yeah?" Walter's voice was slow, a contrast to his pulse, "Is it birth control?"

"Yes." Her voice squeezed a whisper out. "I only have enough for one night, and I don't know if I can obtain more. We have to make the most of it."

While his hands didn't stop dripping water on her shoulders, he held his breath. When he resumed breathing, his hips stirred against her backside. "We should leave the bath before the water chills. We still, uh, have a bed to try out."

She jerked her head into an inelegant nod.

They dried each other. Walter's touch changed at the news. His hands petted her slower like he wanted to feel her more than dry her. When she attempted to leave the bathhouse nude, Walter offered her tunic. She refused it. Though she kept it clean, it was stained, and she refused to wear it. Walter, out of necessity, fumbled on his gambeson. Since she maintained his armor for him, with much more effort than her own clothes, it still looked newish.

The cold night was dark, and the coals in the kitchen hearth faded to a dark red.

"I will need only a moment to prepare the herb," Elin cleared her throat, "Please wait for me."

Powdering the dried herbs took several careful moments because Elin's hands trembled. Once mixed in water, she lifted it in the dim glow and stared at the wooden cup.

There's no going back after I drink this.

She gulped it, too quickly to taste it.

Now, Walter can do as he likes.

They shuffled upstairs, in the dark, to their waiting bed. The closer the bed, the sharper the cold. Once at its side, Elin's skin prickled with goosebumps, and she shivered.

My defenses really are dropping, to prepare. I haven't felt this naked before Walter since the Pilgrim's Folly. This is how it should be. Water boils to fire, and air seeds the earth. He's given me so much, his levels, and even his life, once. I know the scales are gone, but I should try to balance them, at least. If I had them now, this would be so much easier.

Behind her, Elin heard Walter's armor drop to the floor, and another rash of goosebumps covered her. The winter cold bit her skin without impedance now. She grit her teeth to prevent them from chattering.

After a rustle of fabric, Elin knew Walter's underpants were removed.

Then... Then I should turn around and embrace him. Don't get frightened, this is your only chance. This is a man that ripped a lightning bolt from the sky. He crawled back from the dead to return to you. If he doesn't deserve you, then no one does, and no one else does.

Elin commanded her hands to move, and they barely obeyed. She faced him in the dark and slid her arms up his back.

Walter shouted in surprise, "Holy! Fuck! You're freezing!"

What?

Elin's snickered, and her laughter increased uncontrollably. Time and again, she pranked Walter like this, yet, in her worry, she did so accidentally. When he tried to pull away, she clung to him tighter.

"Shit! Don't get closer, woman! Ack!"

Between gasping laughs, she said, "No, I need your warmth! Share it with me! I'm freezing too, and you have to hold me anyway!"

"I'm so going to get you for this!" Walter grunted, "I swear you're gonna pay!"

Her laughter rolled on until her ribs hurt. Elin's cheek steadied on his collarbone. Right now, with her heroic strength reduced, he could push her away, but he tolerated the distress to hold her.

"Can we please get under the covers?" he said.

"I don't know, this is nice," she teased.

"Oh, hell no," he muttered, lifted the blanket, and pushed her in. She giggled as she landed in between the sheets. When he climbed in, she nestled into him.

"Goddamn it. The bed's as cold as you are. Hurry and warm up!"

"Walter, please, don't make me laugh anymore. I can't breathe!"

They panted to catch their breaths.

She slid her hand down his abdomen, and the muscles tensed as it passed. Finally, the two stopped shivering. His arm wrapped her and pulled her underneath. During these intimate times, she clasped her thighs together, now his body pried them open. Her skin flushed with their mixed warmth.

When the pressure started, she arched her back and buried her head into the pillow. She groaned, and her jaw clenched.

"Elin, do you want me to stop?"

She hooked him with her calves, "No. Go. Keep going."

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